Is it too much?

I mentioned earlier about the list I was sent and instructed to fill in and the sheer horror that possessed me when doing so. However as the months progressed and the number of times we could meet increased, we were speaking everyday. It was so different, so new. I mean he just got me. I could tell the man anything (even that I have a slightly disturbing knowledge of serial killers), and at no point did it feel like he just accepted it, he liked it. He liked me.

This in turn inspires confidence to tell him that my opinion on some things had changed. To tell him about the beautiful detailed fantasies I was having at night. Fantasies that I’d have never dare speak of before. Dreams of being used, of being whipped. Dreams of being broken. Now I’m not about to sit here and say to you that I woke up one morning and decided I loved pain. What I am telling you is as your experience grows and you drop all the walls you have naturally built through passed experience and natural inhibitions, you start to realise things about yourself, things that have always been there you just never understood them or how to express them.

With regards to my growth however I am going to speak mainly about masochism as this is a part of me that I believe has grown the most since I entered this world with him. The greatest gift he gave me was the access to my true self. In any important relationship be that with a lover, a family member or a best friend you will notice that things change. Probably why girls think if they spend so much time together their periods will sync. Sorry.. Off topic, but what I mean to say is embrace it! Embrace yourself, do not hold back because you will only regret it. 

Now, every time we have played together it has been a memorable experience and I always take something away with me, but one particular scene sticks with me, as the first time I really started to accept that I was some what of a masochist. I had just been punished because I could not remember all my positions.. seriously, I have THE worst memory ever. I was on my knees and rope was keeping me in a very compromising position with clamps on my nipples and rope cutting into me as I moved. The wand (vibrator) pressed against the rope brought pleasure along with a need to move which brought pain. Amidst these sensations new elements were added to amplify the pain and I heard him say four words… Is it too much? It was in that moment that I realised it was not too much, not at all. I loved that it hurt, I wanted it to hurt more and he delivered. That is the short hand version of the scene but as I said that was the first time I had acknowledged that I enjoyed the pain. Speaking with him now, it’s the first time he realised I enjoyed pain and he could develop and grow his sadistic desires with me. It was a special moment we shared together.

I will speak more in detail about masochism in a later post, this post was just about my journey into acceptance. My coming out as a masochist not to anyone but myself and to him,

Be the imperfect version of yourself

I don’t want to make this blog to speak only about one person but you will hear about “him” a lot because he is pretty much my entire book in this journey and even if I am only a chapter in his, I’m sure we would both agree it has been a pretty amazing section so far.

This first instalment is more detailed than the others will be, purely because it was like losing my virginity all over again and it is an integral part in my journey and my discovery of myself. The first time we met, the first time we played. Really this blog will be about a lot of firsts. On my account. 

CONTEXT.

Helpmediscover is now friends with “him” . Email … has sent you a message. 

Technically strangers but we really didn’t seem that way, the conversation was constant. I flirted, a lot. I acted confident, I mean I knew my pictures were half decent, but this did not strike me as the type of person who wanted half decent. I needed substance (see what I did there).

As the conversation progressed I received a list, a check-list he asked me to fill out and to ask him if there was anything on there I did not understand. Next joke. I googled at least 60% and asked him about 10%. Come on Emily get your shit together. Whilst at the time I couldn’t even define half the terms let alone imagine doing them I am so glad I filled something like that in when I started because when I look now at myself and I see some of my biggest “KINKS”, some of the most dynamic parts of my personality are things I could not even comprehend,

I’m rambling, so we agree to meet and that is really where the on-line meets the reality. My façade of typed induce confidence was about to come shattering around me and all I had to exude said confidence was a corset. We agreed to meet at my place, we did discuss the option of a coffee shop.

Please note, if you are meeting someone for the first time,

it is always a good idea to meet in a mutually agreed safe place, 

Not everyone is as sane as us, 

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THE MORNING OF. 

I’m walking down the street like I own the place, eyes focussed, strutting, smiling. Not a come talk to me smile, more a, yes I’m amazing and so self-absorbed smile. Because I was feeling rather amazing that morning. I was finally going to meet the first man I had ever felt the need to try for. The first man I had ever found myself wanting his attention and approval. So naturally when he had asked me the night before what I would be wearing there was only one option. SLUTTY , CORSET AND MY HIGHEST HEELS. His text that morning confirmed to me that he was as excited as I was, there was a word at the end of the text, a word that would have usually sent me running to the hills but with him grounded me. Princess. 

Cue doorbell.

This is it. Push up boobs, quick serious mirror conversation, check scooby doo is hidden from sight and we are good to go. Or we would have been had I not just opened the door and pretty much fallen on my face – yes literally. He might not have fallen but I did find out recently he was also nervous, so while I was worrying about putting him off and making a bad impression, it seems “this beautiful ‘nilla girl” hadn’t been all bad after all.

And there really is another lesson hidden here. Be yourself. Because even if being yourself makes you an undignified clumsy oaf it means you both start off with the truth. And hey, falling over is definitely a good ice breaker.