Since we didn’t go to the street food market near Waterloo station during our visit to London, thanks to the far right march, Funiculosus suggested that I come back to his for breakfast (which he was making for tea for him and his partner).

Back at his, it didn’t take long before he asked “would you like me to rope you?”

“Hell yeah!” Was my enthusiastic response.

He went and fetched his ropes. I undressed down to my socks and pants (remember, I’m British, and “pants” to me means underwear). Almost always I am near naked when tied because the rope feels best next to bare skin. I always wear socks and pants because Funiculosus gets turned on by underwear and socks.

Today, the ropes were a little moist because he’d been treating them with wax. The scent was incredible – if they could bottle it, I would be wearing it every day like cologne.

Funiculosus used the chest harness that he’d learnt for when we start trying suspension. It feels wrong to say “as usual”, but that is what it is: the experience with him is sensual and caring, full of touching, holding, and caressing – flesh and ropes both.

He led me to the sofa, where he lay me down and just held me for a while. It took longer for me than usual to reach subspace, but I was there – calm and peaceful. He was too. The bondage soothing both of our spirits.

After a while, I asked if he’d bind my legs too. The complete immobility is – words fail me! I have used “peaceful” and “calming” so much that I fear their overuse.

We did some breath play. He breathed into me and I relaxed my own lungs so that I was full of his air, then he was full of mine as he drew me out. Uniting us into a single being.

I put his hand over my face, and he controlled my breathing. He knows how long to hold it because he holds his own breath as well. If he didn’t remove his hand, I would suffocate – but I know with certainty that he will release me before it feels too dangerous.

He unbound me, and then told me to close my eyes and stand in the middle to the lounge. I was completely naked.

Then the pricks of the pin-wheel on my skin. Gentle in some places, harder in others. The sensations were incredible! Just that perfect mix of pleasure and pain, salt and pepper to my senses.

He told me to open my eyes and looked at me. “You’ve gone,” he said, meaning that I was in subspace heaven.

It couldn’t last, though – his partner was coming home soon and it would be too strange for us to still be playing when he got home from work! Besides, Funiculosus was cooking us both tea! A full English breakfast!

After his partner got home and was debriefed on the happenings in London – he had been very worried – Funiculosus started cooking. His partner showed me the photos from their recent trip to France (it was very beautiful). I suppose this is he and I connecting on our own – no third party to mediate. It felt good – and reassuring – that things are good between us all in our strange configuration!

After tea, they drove me home – an hour there and back again – because they didn’t want me on the train on my own with a bunch of drunk and stoked far-right protesters looking for somebody to punish.

I am indeed blessed in this friendship.