To London.

And so, with the gloomy weather nothing less than fortuitous, I led my gang toward their shadow. Or rather, I ensured my retiring colleague, Eve, led the meditation for in light of my fervent desire to go play with George, I felt it proper to explore my own caves and so, quietly folding my hands and tightening my sphincter, I surreptitiously did the meditation.

In short, it was no surprise to find I was repressing the jester, all that is fun and playful and while I may release a little of this in the virtual world, I knew I would be releasing a whole lot more in the club tonight.

So, George met me off the train and drove us to a drink and while regaling me with tales of academic fiasco, not once did he question me as to the meaning of our meeting and I began to wonder if he had the same scandalous intentions as I. Since renouncing his status as head of the history department and replacing it with a passion for international cuisine, George has found a measure of peace. While I had no desire to disturb his serenity, I had every intention of exposing it's sexual expression. After all, we may never have engaged in mutual activity, but I had a full understanding, from every angle, of his every proclivity, and I was rather missing all that. Intimacy, that's it.

However, as we supped and reminisced about our x's, the slow dawning of my specific intention revealed itself and I understood, woefully late, that I planned all this to fulfill a desire to have needles pushed into my nipples. And furthermore, that I intended George to administer them. In the cold light of day, listening to his warm, avuncular voice, I knew I would never ask and so, a drink later, I was done and we left.

Still, I went to the club.

Out of duty and decorum, I entered 'Janice'. I wasn't there for the mechanics so when I sensed a man lingering and ready to replace me, I withdrew. I loitered for long stretches, but however many eyes met mine, I discerned no one of whom I could ask my particular request. In short, I felt shy. I considered asking a woman and certainly any one of them would've agreed, but I wasn't brave enough to ask for what I wanted. It had to be a man and I wanted to look into his eyes as he did it. Eventually, tired of prevaricating, I went straight to the top. Within minutes, I was tied to the wheel and the needles, with precision and great care, were being inserted by no one less than A.M, the owner.

Cruxified and calmed, I went home.