Country Hottie provided some views and skews on the roleplay.

He’s moved the venue to his house, presumably to shift the balance of power even further his way. The premise is that he is putting his house on the market and I will make an appointment to appraise the property as the local real estate agent’s rep. The only other guidelines are to dress as professionally as possible in clothes that won’t be lamented if they’re destroyed. Anything that happens during my inspection remains locked firmly inside his head.

The date might be a few weeks away: I need a couple of framing questions answered so we can be in role from my first phone call and I don’t know his availability for next weekend. My period’s also due the following weekend. I know out on the streets that assault doesn’t wait for bodily cycles, but fantasies are hygienically-modified worlds of desire: we slap instead of punch, bite instead of break, ravage instead of damage, and I have no qualms about pre-editing the elements over which I have control.

I wish it was now. I’m in what seems to be a pre-depression mindset of darkness around my heart and being insulated from life but hypersensitive and prone to crying deep inside. I’d like to ask him to have the Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ cover of ‘The Carnival is Over’ playing during the most harrowing of whatever happens, but I’ll be in his hands by then and will only have control of the soundtrack in my head.