It’s about ten PM in early November 1998 and I am on nights off. I have a bottle of Syrah Rosé, something I developed a taste for on a recent trip to America. I also had an obscenely large piece of stilton cheese for which now I would be gripped at by Victoria for its impact on my health! To go with the cheese I had a box of Carr’s water biscuits and some rather nice apple chutney that my mum had recently made. This then was my supper.
It’s the first of six nights off after having just done a run of eight. I’m a nurse and work nights in a busy CCU in the centre of London. First nights off I find are never good, you get up early so you can actually sleep that night and get back to some sort of normal day time routine for your days off, but feel like you drank 20 pints. Only those who work nights really know how it feels.
So feeling as I did and with not much else to do I am at my computer in a chat room that is BDSM orientated and more unusually the room owners have based it in the UK, so most of the people in it are British. Chat rooms are real places in the virtual world of the internet and provide a meeting point for people with similar interests. My interest is I am a sexual sadist. I am not really taking part in the chat, just idly watching the lines of text scroll up the screen, my attention being more centred on my cheese and wine.
My attention was suddenly taken by a woman who joined the chat with a vitriolic outburst about her family and the pain in the arse that they are for her. People say hi to her, some obviously know her and so ignore the rant. I though am intrigued by this outburst enough to be motivated to try and engage her in an open conversation in the room, only to be ignored. My interest is piqued though; I break a chat room rule and privately message her without first asking permission.
I actually get a reply back which is not a ‘bugger off’ and we engage in conversation. My profession makes me a listener and I let her do most of the talking, offering prompts when the conversation seems to be drying up. She tells me she is 21 and has not long finished university with a degree in life sciences. Her major problem though is she lives at home with her parents and they tend to treat her like she is 12 not 21. Their biggest complaint being the excessive amount of time she seems to spend on the internet. Having not realised that she has grown up and needs a life of her own and the days of watching TV soaps with her mother in the evening are long gone.
Victoria, her real name which after much prodding I got out of her, along with a photograph she tells me that she has only very recently become interested in BDSM. It has though been a dark thought in the back of her mind, aggressively suppressed for a good many years. Only to have been allowed to become an interest after she discovered that she was not abnormal and there were other people out there who shared the same thoughts that she did. Some actually more bizarre than hers, I laughed telling her she would be surprised by what some people got up to.
Over the next couple weeks we chatted a lot, leaving messages and emails for each other, learning about each other’s life. Most interestingly we discovered that we actually lived not far from each other. I had broached the idea of our meeting fairly early on after discovering how close by we were and kept over time coming back to it, until quite unexpectedly she suddenly agreed to take a day off work in the week and meet up somewhere.
We agreed on a motorway services near to both our homes. This may seem bizarre, but they are very public places with lots of people around and hence relatively safe places to meet. As we both had photographs of each other and knew what cars we drove it was fairly easy to find each other in the car park. We went into the restaurant and sat there talking, drinking coffee for a considerable length of time.
My first thoughts though on meeting Victoria are perhaps a little politically incorrect, but given the mutual interest we shared they were important. I had told here to wear a relatively short dress and I followed her into the services thinking to myself that is definitely an ass I want to flog. She also had a low cut top on which when we sat down with our coffee showed considerable cleavage and gave me all sorts of ideas about what I would like to do with her breasts given the opportunity. I also found her very attractive which added considerably to my interest in her.
Eventually I suggested that we went and found some where a little more private to go and ‘talk’.
For Victoria’s perspective please see her book on Amazon Kindle, “Unconventional Desires” by Victoria Louise Sadler
Unconventional Desires 