Today was all about my session with Mel, and my need to vent.
Firstly, I was waiting obediently, as ever, and at least this week I wasn’t late, and as I stood in her hallway with my coat over my shoulder I heard a noise – but not in time. I sort of half put the coat over the important bits just as the guy I had seen last week came out of the elevator. There was no getting away from the fact that I was naked, and for some reason saying “I’m just playing a prank on Mel” seemed like a good idea. He smiled, seemingly relieved (but surely he didn’t believe me?), opened his door, took one last glance at me (with the important bits covered) and then said “Hope it goes well” and went inside.
It was quite a thrill and I was bubbling with excitement when I told Mel one of her neighbours had just seen me. She just said “Good” and I went inside, took my boots off, and we went to into her little office.
She put the “posture corrector” on me again. I don’t know if I’ve described it properly in the past but I found a picture of the kind of thing Mel puts me in:
Except I don’t look like that, of course. But it’s hard not to feel sexy when you have to stick your chest out the whole time.
Mel asked me how it was going and I think I kind of had to vent, because I said I wasn’t sure where this was all going, how I was extremely frustrated, and I said I didn’t know why I was following her rules anyway. Then Mel said if I didn’t want to come I didn’t have to. Except I didn’t want to stop either, I just wanted to let her know what I was feeling. She said that I was the only one holding my potential in check, and if I just took the first few steps forward the rest would be easier.
I tried to tell her that if the office found out about photos of me on the Internet (because she had seen the ones from the holiday too) then it could damage my prospects. She just said “but they probably won’t, and it might not,” and if I was that worried about it then I should just give up now, go back to wearing underwear and be clothed all the time, and just fit in.
It was quite a heated discussion, and the most annoying thing about it all is that she’s actually right. But then if I didn’t want to stop seeing her, and I didn’t want to post more pictures of myself, then what could I do? I said I hadn’t touched myself for something like six weeks now, and hadn’t orgasmed since that time in the café over three weeks ago, and I just wasn’t sure I could go on. I blurted out that I’d do anything, but I just needed more time, and Mel, like she was some kind of guru, said “Time is the one thing we can’t make more of.” I think I kind of hate her sometimes!
Then Mel took out her phone and took another handful of pictures of me sat in the back restraint thing, and said I had to add those to the post too! She said it was just going to get harder the longer I left it.
Then she changed the subject and talked about work. I found it hard to concentrate, because I was kind of angry with her, and I also wanted her to touch me before she sent me home, so the conversation was kind of vague. She asked if I had a plan for how to move into this corporate tax world I wanted to move into, which I didn’t, and I hadn’t done much about, but I was going to have lunch with Jo again soon. She said I couldn’t just rely on other people to make things happen for me: I had to do it myself.
Then the session just suddenly ended. It had been over an hour, and Mel unfastened my collar and cuffs, and I was so angry about everything that I’d given up hinting about anything else happening.
I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight running it all through my mind.
Kara Bryn 