Doppelganger

I went on a blind date while in the UK. I met him online, and we chatted freely. We talked on the phone and really got on. So we arranged to meet in a pub local to me. I texted him asking what drink I should get him if I arrived first. He said ‘Pimms’

‘Are you serious?’ I asked.

‘Oh yes’ he replied.

I let it pass and as it turned out, he got to the pub first. I walked through the garden to where he was sat…a single guy in a pub garden on a Wednesday night kinda stands out as waiting for someone. He was attractive but there was something about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It wasn’t that I felt unsafe. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to him, I was.

We chatted about allsorts of thing and then he started talking about his love of a certain type of car. Then it hit me.

Suddenly I was very aware of what it was about him that felt wrong.

He was the spitting image of my Dad the day he married my mum.

Coffee with a (unknown) Married

Going by the name of amazinggirth he got my attention. We chatted online for a few hours then I wrote, ‘fancy getting a drink?’

We talked about allsorts; kinks, a love of shoes, a distaste for water sports, food, drink and of course the reason for his user id. I never thought to ask the question, Are you married? because my profile clearly says No Married Men please.

So you can imagine my surprise and level of pis*edofness when we met for a drink at a local pub and he started telling how it was lovely to met someone who got him, unlike him wife.

I was polite, he was attractive, but the whole time I was thinking about the only personal rule I have that I actually stick too. No Marrieds.

An hour passed, we said goodbyes in the car park, he tried to kiss me on the lips, I turned to present my cheek. As I said, ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, but it be won’t happening again because I don't play with married men.’

He got aggressive and spat, ‘I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned my wife. We would have been fu*king by now if I hadn’t’. Then he stalked to his car and I thanked my lucky stars for an escape.

Expelled

The Literary Schoolboy is being expelled before he really had a chance to enrol in the lessons I could teach. He stood me up on Saturday.

I did however take advantage of the free time and sat in a café on Darling Harbour, watched the boats sail in and out under Pyrmont Bridge and read the entire March edition of Madison.

...and I think I've found a house big enough for me to have a playroom.

The Wanton Whore - part two

I had lunch with the little slut yesterday. The merest suggestion earlier in the day meant that he was sat opposite me in the beer garden wearing pink lacy ladies panties under his shorts. Frankly, pink is disappointing as a jezebel would only wear red.

Chocolate Day

Yesterday was Valentines Day. I know you already knew that, but I felt I needed to remind you. Not sure why. Maybe because it passed for me, yet again, as a fizzler day. Nothing happened that would remind me it was a day for lovers.

I did have another first date, he met me in Reactor Rubber as I was on my lunch break and I wanted to purchase myself a pair of latex gloves. As it happens I also got some stocking too which he loved. The look of me trying on the gloves meant that just a twitch of my talc covered toes had him on his knees cleaning it off for me. We had lunch afterwards and he jumped every time I said anything remotely dominant. It was lovely…I can see the Rubbermaid and I having heaps of fun.

The evening was taken up by dinner and drinks with a girl-friend. Haven’t seen her for a while but we had a gossip catch up, she told me all about her love life…and I shared mine, including some pictures of the Wanton Whore. She had a laugh over those as we were walking though the park towards the train station.

I was in bed by 11.30, alone.

Tales of Serial First Dates

Over the last few days I’ve been busy. With life (been given 60 notice on my place so gotta move), with work (several project on the go) and dating.

I haven’t seen any action since Mr Clingfilm (who incidentally is available again and I nearly had to chop off my own finger to resist mailing him) but I have had a few first meetings.

First there was a naughty school boy, not the one from this entry, but another. This one liked to read passages from books at me down the phone and then be punished for errors in pronunciation. He would then spank himself. We had a date for lunch on Friday. He called me at about 10 to say he couldn’t make it. I was understanding and told him to drop me line later. I haven’t heard from him since. I think the reality and fantasy came a bit close and he got scared. Shame he had a cute bum.

Friday evening turned into date night after a brief conversation on Messenger with the IT Geek. We met for a drink in a suburb midway between us and chatted all night. It was lovely. At no point did I have the desire to push up against a wall and shag him senseless, but I found him very attractive and I think we could have a lot of fun together. It’s highly likely he’ll be at Hellfire on Friday.

Saturday I was house hunting in my best walking shoes (croc thongs) and scruffy jeans and shirt. It was trashing down with rain, I was wet and cold. I got a call for The Builder. Could we catch up for the first date that we’d been trying to have for weeks, and did I mind that he just come from work? Who was I to judge I didn’t even have make-up on. I found a seat at in inside café (I was bloody freezing) and waited. He arrived and he was filthy but he had just come from work. We chatted, drank tea and I nearly missed my next house viewing. It was lovely plus it was a good job I had to be somewhere or I think I would have taken him home for a little afternoon delight.

Meanwhile…since Tuesday last week I’ve been sending humiliation text messages to my online slut. Telling him to perform tasks and sending my photographic proof. I now have some of the most pornographic images I have ever seen in my yahoo inbox and if I need a giggle I just open one of his emails or send him a text. God love him, he loves being verbally abused.

So, I’ve been having fun but no games…watch this space.

What The...?

I’ve had a busy few day on the dating front, so please forgive the mind dump that happened today. But I have one final tale to spin tonight.

On Friday after work I had a first meeting. And because I felt like getting out of the city I drove to meet him. It was only an hour, so not to bad. I had agreed to meet him in the local pub. I’d told him that I would wear a grey top with sparkles and black jeans.

I got to the place and did a quick change in the car, new top, stilettos and red lipstick by MAC (that does not come off, ever). I walked to the door, passed the local smokers, they watched me. I looked through the door and turned right back to my car to change my top back to the orange cotton shirt I’d had on at work all day. I was overdressed wearing lipstick, let alone high heels and a spangly blouse.

The guy turned up wearing thongs and board shorts. We chatted for a while before he asked if I’d like to go home with him to meet the wife?

What the …?

Turns out he was looking for a third. Well Honey…That AIN'T me!

He brought a six pack to take home then walked me to my car. He seemed disappointed and confused when I said, ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, but I really don’t think we could play together.’

Remote Domination

I’ve had a desire to be submissive for quite some time. I think this comes from trying out most play on myself before I use it on another. I’ve wrapped myself in cling film (glad-wrap) bound my breasts, used spreader bars, used a riding crop, flogger and paddle on my backside, I’ve also dripped candle wax on my thigh and belly to mention just a few. But although I get an idea of what these ‘feel’ like I’ve never really had the feeling of being truly submissive.

Last night I got my first taste. A while ago I met a Dominant man on the internet. We’ve emailed and chatted online. Last night I called him after I sent him a picture of my legs bound in bondage tape while I was wearing stilettos.

He told me to call him Master, so I did, with difficulty at first. He told me attach the collar I had recently purchased to the bondage tape around my knees, which I did. Then he told me to stand up. This action lead me be bent over with backside in the air. He told me to touch myself, through the gag I was wearing (at his instruction) I told him my knees where too tightly together. He told me to push my hand in. I did…I was wetter than I had been for a very long time. After I failed to call him Master he told me he wanted to hear me spank myself. He heard it and told me I had been a good girl and that I could sit down again.

He rang off after only twenty minutes…and I know knew what it felt like to be sub. Will I cope as well in person?

The Panty Sniffers

A couple of years ago I started chatting to a guy on messenger who had a predilection for ladies underwear. Unlike so many he had spoken too before I didn’t call him nasty names when he told me, he was stunned. We still speak. We’ve never met, but that could because he lives on the other side of the continent.

Anyway, his particular fetish ‘causes him a little heart ache because it is rare that he find a lady who will stand to have a guys nose buried in her pants, especially after a day of wearing them. I have sent him a pair in the past, accompanied with a little note about what I did while wearing them. He loved it, or so he has lead me to believe.

I thought he was a rarity until recently when I met another, here in Sydney. And this one I actually met. I won’t be seeing him again though because he was very short and had a girlfriend that he failed to tell me about.

Chopsticks and Sharp Knives

I have just got back for a lunch date. Only the date, he didn’t turn up.

I have a rule, I don’t give out my phone before I have met someone. Too many freaks out there. But he has email and IM. So why, if he knew he wasn’t going to turn didn’t he say something? And if it was truly a hideous (or even minor) accident then he has managed to do something that has never happened to me before.

He stood me up!

When I returned to the office, I composed this email in word…what do you think, press send?

'So my sushi lunch was great...teriyaki chicken, some sashimi salmon, miso soup and a green tea.

The company was rather lacking until the guy filleting a king fish in front of me decided to make conversation. Did you know, but on average a sushi chef spends 3years just making rice before he’s even allowed near a fish?'

The Rules

I’ve been giving serious thought the last few days as to what my rules should be when looking for a sub. But I decided to start at the beginning and think about what it is that I look for when I first meet someone who wants to worship at my boots and what are the common mistakes they make that turn me off.

Then I was cruisin’ some of the blogs I read on a regular basis when found the submissive man had been speaking to a Domme about the very same thing, so below is a combination of her insightful answers and mine;

1 - showing up to a first meeting without having made a effort looking like a scruff bag
2 - showing up after me and therefore not having a green tea waiting
3 - being unable to conduct a platonic and pressure-free first meeting
4 - not paying for the first date (a coffee or cuppa)
5 - not answering my question, or giving me a question back
6 - trying to initiate any conversations about sexuality without waiting for me to bring it up first. I want to have that conversation it usually means I’m interested in having a second date
7 - not taking no for an answer
8 – bad manners, table or otherwise
9 – not complimenting me on how I look
10 - balking at a preliminary task
11 – talking back
12 – not being able to have a conversation or stimulating me intellectually

And I like her last one, so I’m going to use it for my own;

13 - being anything other than the balanced, sane healthy man I want for a sub

The Banker

Had lunch with the Banker today. I really can’t see it going anywhere near the bedroom, but I think we could be mates, oddly I think he agrees. I didn’t feel any chemistry. He’s predominantly dominant and so am I, so it could be very fiery if not downright awkward.

Ohh and he's mostly gay.

Back to the drawing board.

The Corporate Suit

I had another first encounter yesterday, my third. Now, they always say third times a charm and all that, but I never believed them until last night. This time I had ventured to arrange a date with a guy several years younger than myself, a guy with a thing for feet.

I arrived at the bar a few minutes early (the taxi had managed to get all green lights) so I ordered myself a drink, propped myself on a bar stool and waited. After about five minutes and EXACTLY on time he arrived. He apologised that he had just come from the gym and wasn’t wearing a suit. He looked amazing in jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Dark hair, slim but muscled body and taller than me, even in three inch heels.

I was halfway through my drink, he waited until I had finished before going to the bar and buying himself one and another for me. We talked about politics, sport, the royal family, the trivia night that happened to be going on around us and several other things including his past relationships. After an hour, both of our emergency phone calls happened (mine from ‘a friend in need’ his for ‘work’) and we decided to call it a night. He drove me home, told me he was playing at being a lawyer and that he really wanted to do other things with his life. He walked me to my front door. Then he kissed me gently. I kissed him back. He was nervous and so was I.

I wanted to open my front door, throw him against the wall, rip all his clothes off and shag him senseless. But I have a rule…never on a first meeting.

I think it’s sensible, but last night I could have kicked my own arse for letting him get away.

PS. He's been emailing me all day and my butterflies have hatched. But I'm still not counting the chickens.

The Barman

My second date from a dating site happened on the 22nd. He had maintained that he worked in the hospitality industry and I had chosen not read too much into it. He was a little older than me, but that wasn’t a worry.

After two hours of his company though I was exhausted. He had no conversation. I started every thread and ecked out every piece of information I could. I discovered all sorts of things about him that were undesirable including that he was a smoker. His profile said he was not. So I told him smoking was a deal breaker, I was being kind I could have mentioned the;
>Lack of conversation
>The extra extra padding
>The fact he didn’t buy me a drink
>That he lived with a flat mate
>His lack of transport
>That all he could talk about was the bar work ( he doesn’t even clean his own pipes)
>That he hasn’t read a book since leaving school
And list goes on…

And when he asked why smoking was such a problem I told him his spunk would taste like an ashtray. He looked confused as I waved goodbye.

The Project Manager

I had my first coffee on the 17th October with a lovely man who likes ladies in boots. I didn’t wear boots to the date because it was two in the afternoon at a café.

We chatted about a few things, his likes, his wants then my likes, my wants and my new washing machine. He told me I was just what he imagined a Domme to look and be, not too skinny and not too fat. That’s always nice to hear. He also told me that I was very comfortable to be around but he imagined I could be very tough.

Then I told him my situation, you know, separated and new back in the scene, vanilla ex etc. He then said, ‘I’m a similar situation, my partner is vanilla.’

My Partner…A Partner! Didn’t he think it would be a good idea to mention the partner before making a coffee date with me? I asked if he had tried to get her interested. Yes he had, but she wasn’t interested and though wearing boot in bed was freaky. We talked about his situation more and I found out what I wanted to know. She didn’t know he was going outside to play.
I finished my drink and he offered to walk me home. I said, ‘You can, but you ain’t coming over threshold.’

He did walk me home. He was a gentleman. He did admit to requiring the toilet during our short walk and I let him. He was in my house less than five minutes and after he had left I checked something;

He’d put the loo seat down, lid and all.