Kate's Exhibitionist Journey
Chapter 12 - Kalamazoo
In which Kate tries to find answers to her growing exhibitionist needs from a daring new place, and finds herself getting into new nude situations.
I sat in my car at the end of a long, secluded driveway, staring at the red door of the house in front of me. On the other side of that brightly coloured door was...actually, I wasn't quite sure what awaited me. All I knew was that there was a woman called Veronica. Or, to give her full working title, a woman who liked to be called...Mistress Veronica.
Gulp!
In my quest to take another step on my journey, to take my unforgettable experiences from my nude holiday even further, I had called the number that Nicole had given me. The number for a...professional? A...mentor? I wasn't sure how best to describe her. Either way, a woman that had helped Nicole to explore her own desires for submission, and one that she felt might now help me explore my exhibitionist side. And, after my attempt to try my hand at nude hiking resulted in my nerves getting the better of me and sending me home clothed and frustrated, I had picked up my phone with a quaking hand and given Veronica a call.
I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting from my first interaction with a, um, lesbian domme. But what I'd gotten was a polite and formal conversation. One that had the same sort of vibe as if I'd been booking a dental appointment. Sort of. The woman on the other end of the phone, who spoke with a warm American-tinged accent, had asked me several cursory and friendly questions about me and my...situation, explained some details about her approach to an initial 'session' and her promise of complete discretion with her 'clients'. Then, after a discussion around time slots and payments, I was booked in. Oh god.
Oh wow.
And then came the questionnaire. Oh dear. Even the questions had made me blush. It was an anonymous and seemingly generic online form that she sent to new clients, as often they felt unsure about going into too much detail over the phone. Which was something I could understand. I hadn't gotten close to telling her everything about my own journey. And all she needed me to send back to her was my final results, not my specific answers. Still, she said that the results would guide our session, so I spent forever making sure my answers were as accurate as possible. No matter how embarrassed I felt doing it.
The questions seemed to cover everything. My likes, my dislikes, my wants and my needs. Some were simple yes/no/sometimes questions. Did I like to be tied up or restrained (Yes!). Did I like more extreme levels of pain outside a playful spanking (No!). Did I like to be in complete control when I was in the bedroom with a partner (Sometimes!). Did I like to be seen when I was naked (Oh god, yes!). Would I be willing to try anything once (Oh god, no!). Did I get aroused by feelings of helplessness and submission (Oh god, erm, sometimes...?). And so on. Other questions had to be answered on a scale from 1 to 10. My interests in role play (7) or embarrassment (5) or bondage (2) or exhibitionism (10!). And still others on different sliding scales. My preference for expressing my desires on my own initiative versus being pushed into pursuing them. My interest in exploring my needs in a group versus with an individual. Even my preference for women versus men. And so on.
I forced myself to be truthful, blushing all the way. Even though, if my experiences on holiday were accurate, I was sure I was responding with a flurry of confusing and contradictory statements, I stayed true to my own feelings, regardless of how personal it got.
At the end, I was presented with my results. And I was relieved to see that they were largely as I'd expected. I was, according to this online questionnaire, a happy 87% exhibitionist and only 8% masochist. That definitely felt like it was the right way around. Beyond that, I was a whole range of other things. I was 71% submissive, 68% vanilla (which I was a
little
offended by), 43% pet(?), 31% experimentalist(!) and a healthy 0% voyeur. I definitely liked to be seen to be nude, not the other way around. Satisfied that I wasn't revealing some facet of myself that I wasn't comfortable with ('vanilla' accusation aside, though I was sure that part would warn her off trying to make me do anything too extreme), I emailed my results across.
And that was that. I hadn't heard anything else back from her since, aside from a brief text message yesterday to confirm my time of arrival for my session. And here I was.
Her home was just outside London, on the way towards Nicole's part of the Cotswolds. Which made sense, if she had used her...services as well. It was a large detached house, standing alone on the outskirts of a small commuter town, set back from the main road at the end of a gated driveway. From the outside, it looked entirely normal, like any other house out in the countryside like this. Which, I conceded to myself, is exactly the sort of place I'd choose to build my BDSM dungeon in if I was in this line of work.
I suppressed a sudden gulp at the reminder of what might lie in wait inside. I knew I'd been clear in my awkward phone call with her, and with my questionnaire results, that I hadn't wanted anything too 'severe'. But also, I really had no idea what to expect. Would she stick to what I wanted, what I'd asked for? Or was the whole point of a...session like this to relinquish my control, to test my limits, and my boundaries? And therefore, would she actually try to push me towards the things I'd insisted that I didn't want. Was I planning on a playful afternoon in the nude, but about to get an evening chained up in her dungeon? Oh Kate, I thought to myself, what are you getting yourself into this time?!
I knew I couldn't wait here forever. And at this point, I couldn't really even turn and drive away. She knew I was here, because I'd had to be buzzed through her front gate. I was only delaying the inevitable while I was sitting inside my car like this.
Come on, Kate, I told myself. You've come all this way, answered all those questions. And besides, what else are you going to do? Put on your hiking boots again, and then go and chicken out of another nude hike?
With a nervous sigh, I got out of the car. Just as I began to walk towards the door, my phone began to vibrate, startling me. I took it out of my pocket, wondering if she was calling me from inside, impatiently asking what was taking me so long. But it wasn't her. My eyes widened as I saw the name that was lit up on the screen.
Lara!
I stopped, rooted to the spot. With everything else that I'd been doing, I'd completely forgotten that we'd exchanged numbers back on the nude beach. I now remembered how I had played up the idea that I lived near to her, out on the coast. And I hadn't driven for three hours from my London flat in order to get nude on a random beach. Just to save face.
Oh no. She probably wanted to grab a coffee or something. She'd talked about wanting to stay in touch, how she was struggling to meet new people since she'd moved out there. Oh, Kate, and now she was trying to meet up! Because you'd said you lived nearby! All because you couldn't bring yourself to admit the truth!
I couldn't answer. I just watched the phone insistently vibrate in my hand, before it eventually went to voicemail. I buried it back in my pocket and sighed. That would have to wait for later. One thing at a time, Kate. I walked on. My concerns about Lara's call allowed me to forget some of my worries about my upcoming, ahem, session, and I rang the bell before I even realised what I was doing.
The red door opened almost immediately. Again, I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting. If I was going to be greeted with a woman fully kitted out in a skintight leather catsuit, ten inch heels and carrying a sturdy bullwhip. Instead, Veronica, or Mistress Veronica, or whatever I was supposed to call her, was a much less terrifying sight. She was tall, with chocolate brown, almost porcelain features and jet black hair tied back in a bob. I guessed she was in her mid 30s. She wore a smart suit jacket, bright red blouse (to match her door?), a tight knee-length skirt and dark stockings. All things considered, she looked more ready to attend a business conference than she did to tie me up in her basement and paddle my behind.
And yet, I instantly felt something inside me. A little tingle of arousal. The way this prim, perfectly attired woman was already towering above me brought back memories of my holiday, when I'd been haplessly under Nicole and then Maria's imposing gaze. And while neither had been dressed like this when they had done it, they had both carried the air of confident businesswomen from their day jobs. Oh god, had Veronica somehow gotten that from the results of my questionnaire? Had my results somehow informed her that I had a helpless weakness for strong women in business attire? Was that my kink?? Or...was she just wearing the catsuit underneath it? Ugh,
calm down, Kate!
"Ah, you must be Kate," she smiled at me as I gawped at her soft features.
"Y--Yes," I managed to stammer back, suddenly feeling some very familiar butterflies in my stomach, "I'm, um, sorry I took so long..."
"I get it," she replied in her soft American accent, "I find that people like to take a moment before they come in for the first time."
I mustered a nervous smile, as she gestured for me to walk in. Feeling more nervous than ever before, I silently crossed the threshold and she closed the door behind me.
