After Sweetie left, I drank a nervous beer and chatted with Q, and then it was time to go downstairs for pictures. E told me she was doing a Wal Mart run in a little bit and asked if I needed anything. Chocolate-covered strawberries, maybe? I laughed and said no thanks and told her again how adorable she was. And if we needed some cute food, I’d brought cupcakes.
While I’m walking down the stairs with a near-stranger to have my picture taken in his basement, a few words about being submissive. Most of the appeal of submitting, most of the intoxication of it, comes from trust. With Bill, that wasn’t it. It was more of a helpless feeling, like I couldn’t get away if I wanted to, and also he scared me/turned me on so much that it turned my brain into a test pattern. Fun, but not trust. With Sweetie, there’s mountains of trust that comes from knowing each other so well for so long, and plus it’s just kind of easier for me to trust a woman.
Walking down those stairs, I felt closer to the trusting-a-guy that’s been my goal for a while. It was just a simple matter of listening to my body telling me I was safe, or pure physical intuition. So even though it was kind of a scary/awkward situation, I relaxed into it, and it felt like a relief.
While Q set up the backdrops and such, he asked if I could find the entrance to the secret room. (Of course there’s a secret room…) I looked around and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary besides the table of various safe-sex things left over from the party and some lovely framed photos of people in various states of loving hurt. He said, “When there’s a secret passageway in a movie, how do people get in?”
Oh! The bookshelf! All I had to do was take one book off the shelf, just like in Scooby Doo! When I moved that book and the doorway opened, I was flooded with delight and optimism. It was seriously one of the best experiences I’ve ever had.
This was the room where we’d do the fire portraits later, he explained. It’s probably pretty close to what you’d imagine a secret room would look like. There was a massage table, a tool rack on the wall of paddles and various other spanking implements, loops on the wall to attach people to, and (for photography, I guess) a lot of outlets. And, offering a smile of encouragement, was big poster of Bettie Page dressed to kill in red leather and smiling like my heart’s desire. So happy to know about this room.
Author photos didn’t take long. I’d dressed in sort of a librarian-ish outfit—pencil skirt and a cute black and white cardigan, my favorite ribbon necklace. Also, fishnets and heels for no particular reason. I liked it when I took off my glasses and he told me I have beautiful eyes. Things started to get less author photo-y when I was standing in a doorway that happened to have a pair of bondage cuffs hanging down. He asked if I’d like to get in them and I was like “Um, yeah!”
They were fur-lined. “I like my subs to feel comfortable when I torture them.” It was hard to imagine feeling tortured, I was so darn happy. I never do too well at looking trapped and helpless because I’m generally so pleased about being restrained. I tend to have a big smile across my face when I’m in situations like this—not that I’m in many situations like this!
Next: A riding crop in my hand, submissive position number one, some musings about some spankings.