Worst enemy

It’s as no surprise to me
I am my own worst enemy
‘cos every now and then
I kick the living shit out of me

So goes the song. It resonates with me.
Especially today.
The last couple of months have seen me getting hornier and hornier.
Wanking hasn’t helped.
Porn hasn’t helped.
Getting my cock, balls and arse crack waxed yesterday hasn’t helped.
Researching how to modfy latex fetishwear hasn’t helped.
Reading Kalya Lords’s contribution to Masturbation Monday cetainly hasn’t helped.

And most of all, today, what hasn’t helped is revisiting an old pipe dream. An old project.

A while ago I designed a rubber catsuit for myself.
I got it made. (Not quite the one in the link above, but an evolution of it.)
It was so nearly perfect.
For one reason or another I found myself needing to modify it myself, which I have only recently started to get round to.
In the process I’ve ended up going back to my drawings.
This inevitably lead me back to the female counterpart I imagined. The disign I could never quite get how I wanted.
The design that would have me and a partner dressed in matching rubber. The sweetest, skin tight, shiny union.
And I finally figrued out how to make the design work for her.

Up until yesterday, her was anyone. Well, maybe not anyone, but not someone. Not anyone specific. Just a her.
As of yesterday, she became Her. The maquette became my Wife. Not literally – it’s was hard enough to find a maquette that suited my purposes in the first place, and between the two 2D models I have worked with in Photoshop, neither have figures remotely like either myself nor my Wife. But today, as my new design edged irreversibly closer to it’s final form, I made some changes that transformed the base figure into my Wife.

I made her height the same as Hers, proportionate to mine.
I filled out her figure a little, to make it more like Hers rather than the muscular Size-0 so typical of fashion design.
And most significant of all, I identified the layers within Photoshop – her outline, her skin tone, her outfit’s components, and her outfit’s colours – I prefixed their identifying names with Her name.
I made her into Her.

And in that moment, with not a little reflection on the last 10 empty months, and the future that they inevitably herald, a little peice of my heart shattered.

4 Responses to “Worst enemy”

  1. I’m sorry AM. Sending hugs too.

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