Over the next week, I get into a stride with both of my jobs. At the office, I work out a new dynamic with David, still being my usual self but holding back on some of the jabs, some of the banter, where the meaning could be a little dubious. I don’t want to be thinking that way around him in the day.
At The Red Room, David comes three times a week. Every time, he chooses something new, tests it, tests my reactions. I don’t refuse a single time. I find that I haven’t wanted to. He still hasn’t touched me again, not with his hands, instead using all the toys, whips and ropes available to him. I also restart my sub regiment of aftercare, ointments, electrolyte drinks, the works, anything that helps me recover faster, and help me to avoid anymore ‘squirmy’ moments at the office.
I no longer
