The picture shows the inside of a hidden compartment in my briefcase. It contains important accoutrements for the hidden life I lead.
To borrow from Chekhov, in a passage that sparked an earlier post:
I have two lives: one, open, seen and known by all who cared to know, full of relative truth and of relative falsehood, exactly like the lives of my friends and acquaintances; and another life running its course in secret
Delving into this compartment is part of the ritual of crossing from the open life to the hidden.
The money? £1,000 in crisp £50 notes, sealed in a plastic envelope, exactly as it came from the casino. I won it playing poker; one vice providing the means for me to enjoy the other.
The Pill. That’s Cialis. It’s known as the “Weekend Viagra.” I hate that I take it. I have no need to tell you about it, but it’s as much part of my truth as the canings and nipple clamps. My need for this medication shouldn’t bother me; I take a heart regulator known to cause such problems. But I’m a man and I can’t stop it bothering me.
The cord. I like to have my cock and balls tied; the tightness, the way the blood rushing to my genitals pushes against the rope. I might use this myself, or give it to a Mistress if she hasn’t arrived with something similar.
After the session I’ll restore these items to the hidden compartment and become once again “open, seen and known by all who cared to know.”
The Sinful Sunday prompt is RESHOOT. In a recent post, a story, about the lead-up to a session, I used an image of a pile of cash in an envelope. This image re-shoots the cash but with the added information that comes from the cord and the pills.
More, though probably less medical, sin here