grumpymann
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2004
- Posts
- 144
“Laura, listen I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it I loved it and much as you did.” I gently rest my hands on her shoulders “I just got caught up in it as much as you did.” It all comes rushing out of my mouth of its own accord. “I needed it as much as you did.” When I say this I feel her stiffen. We stand there like that for some time. I have no idea what is going through her mind or her heart. Before I can let her go she turns to me, I see tears in her eyes, those damned eyes of hers.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, listen I think we need to talk but I have to get out of this get up, why don’t you follow me to the dungeon so I can change.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly “Then we can go have a cup of coffee and talk. We never did and I see we both need to.”
I let my hands slide along her arms lovingly. “Yeah I’d like that.”
I follow her to the warehouse district not far from the club to a non-descript building. Following her up the stairs I began to wonder just what the hell I’m doing, I mean how many times do I have to let her step on my heart. Not that any thing she did I can blame her for, but this is getting silly.
She opens the door to one of the set aside office spaces, and motions me inside, it is dark no windows to the outside. I have the feeling of a lager space but say nothing. She steps in and turns on the light.
It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light. I am amazed by what I see.
X racks, chains hang from the ceiling, an array of whips, cats, floggers, and assorted other toys line the wall. With out thinking I walk to the wall and slid my hands across them letting the material cress the skin on the back of my hand. I turn to her, she just stands there staring at me.
“This is sick; there is so much I wanted to say. So much I want to say.” She says as much to herself as to me.
“When have you ever held your tongue with me?” I ask. Then we both look around the room and see where we’re standing and what has brought us here all came flooding in.
I look at her, for a moment it seems that I have said the wrong thing again. But we both laugh.
“Present situation excluded.” I say finally.
“The foremost in my mind is the biggie. It’s the one that all the others hang on answer that one wrong and the rest don’t matter.” She says avoiding looking at me.
“The dead bodies in the middle of the floor?”
“What?” she asks confused.
“Nothing, I’m listening.”
She takes a deep breath to steel herself. “Why?” A simple question with more than one not so simple answer.
“Ah that one, well it’s … complex, and long. Can we sit?” I ask trying to get time to get my thoughts together.
On the couch we sit an arms length from one another, closer than friends and farther than lovers. I turn to her.
“Remember the last night we were together?” She nods. I continue, I let it out. I tell her about the look, her look, the look in general. How it hurt me how I hated it. How in many ways I was disappointed by her of all people giving it to me. How she was the last person I ever expected to let my color affect her.
When I was finish we’re both silent, and the air in the room is pregnant with tension, apprenticing, accusation, pain and anger. Hers and mine. And when she speaks her voice is again a harsh whisper.
“When we first met I was struck by how gentle you were, your compassion and the ease and grace you showed for someone your size. You seemed … submissive.” She gives a little laugh to herself as if there is something funny about it I can’t see. I guess there is. Soon she looks up and into my eyes. But it is only for a second that she graces me with her gaze of bottomless green before she looks away then continues. “I’m not going to insult you, I won’t deny it, in that moment I was scared of you. When I saw how savage you could be I was scared of that bestial side of you. I mean what would happen if it was ever turned against me? That was what put me off that night. So I guess that was the fear you saw, not of what you were but of who you were.” She turns to me again her head down this time seemingly from shame. “But I got over it, and quickly I remembered how far that guy had to go before you exploded. Then… it dawned on me that you may not be as submissive as I thought. I’m a Dominatrix here in this place, it’s a job, the scenes, the beatings and humiliations are a part of it. But in my relationships I’m in control I live the life 24/7 I need the control to be happy. And when I realized you may not be a part of my life I was crushed. The only thing that hurt worse was the call you made to me later. When you said we should be just friends, I knew it was the right thing but it was also a painful thing.”
She takes a deep breath to steel herself. Then turns to me, and looks right into my eyes. Her eyes are filled with pain and misting with tears but she refuses to let them flow. For the first time sense I met her I can’t read what was going on behind those gorgeous green eyes of hers. “I guess I was rattling on there towards the end. So yes the fight affected me not because you were black, but because you weren’t a bottom. So when I saw you tonight I thought I may have had it wrong I thought there may still be a chance for us. But I guess there really isn’t. I’m so sorry. I should have told you, I should have explained it.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, listen I think we need to talk but I have to get out of this get up, why don’t you follow me to the dungeon so I can change.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly “Then we can go have a cup of coffee and talk. We never did and I see we both need to.”
I let my hands slide along her arms lovingly. “Yeah I’d like that.”
I follow her to the warehouse district not far from the club to a non-descript building. Following her up the stairs I began to wonder just what the hell I’m doing, I mean how many times do I have to let her step on my heart. Not that any thing she did I can blame her for, but this is getting silly.
She opens the door to one of the set aside office spaces, and motions me inside, it is dark no windows to the outside. I have the feeling of a lager space but say nothing. She steps in and turns on the light.
It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light. I am amazed by what I see.
X racks, chains hang from the ceiling, an array of whips, cats, floggers, and assorted other toys line the wall. With out thinking I walk to the wall and slid my hands across them letting the material cress the skin on the back of my hand. I turn to her, she just stands there staring at me.
“This is sick; there is so much I wanted to say. So much I want to say.” She says as much to herself as to me.
“When have you ever held your tongue with me?” I ask. Then we both look around the room and see where we’re standing and what has brought us here all came flooding in.
I look at her, for a moment it seems that I have said the wrong thing again. But we both laugh.
“Present situation excluded.” I say finally.
“The foremost in my mind is the biggie. It’s the one that all the others hang on answer that one wrong and the rest don’t matter.” She says avoiding looking at me.
“The dead bodies in the middle of the floor?”
“What?” she asks confused.
“Nothing, I’m listening.”
She takes a deep breath to steel herself. “Why?” A simple question with more than one not so simple answer.
“Ah that one, well it’s … complex, and long. Can we sit?” I ask trying to get time to get my thoughts together.
On the couch we sit an arms length from one another, closer than friends and farther than lovers. I turn to her.
“Remember the last night we were together?” She nods. I continue, I let it out. I tell her about the look, her look, the look in general. How it hurt me how I hated it. How in many ways I was disappointed by her of all people giving it to me. How she was the last person I ever expected to let my color affect her.
When I was finish we’re both silent, and the air in the room is pregnant with tension, apprenticing, accusation, pain and anger. Hers and mine. And when she speaks her voice is again a harsh whisper.
“When we first met I was struck by how gentle you were, your compassion and the ease and grace you showed for someone your size. You seemed … submissive.” She gives a little laugh to herself as if there is something funny about it I can’t see. I guess there is. Soon she looks up and into my eyes. But it is only for a second that she graces me with her gaze of bottomless green before she looks away then continues. “I’m not going to insult you, I won’t deny it, in that moment I was scared of you. When I saw how savage you could be I was scared of that bestial side of you. I mean what would happen if it was ever turned against me? That was what put me off that night. So I guess that was the fear you saw, not of what you were but of who you were.” She turns to me again her head down this time seemingly from shame. “But I got over it, and quickly I remembered how far that guy had to go before you exploded. Then… it dawned on me that you may not be as submissive as I thought. I’m a Dominatrix here in this place, it’s a job, the scenes, the beatings and humiliations are a part of it. But in my relationships I’m in control I live the life 24/7 I need the control to be happy. And when I realized you may not be a part of my life I was crushed. The only thing that hurt worse was the call you made to me later. When you said we should be just friends, I knew it was the right thing but it was also a painful thing.”
She takes a deep breath to steel herself. Then turns to me, and looks right into my eyes. Her eyes are filled with pain and misting with tears but she refuses to let them flow. For the first time sense I met her I can’t read what was going on behind those gorgeous green eyes of hers. “I guess I was rattling on there towards the end. So yes the fight affected me not because you were black, but because you weren’t a bottom. So when I saw you tonight I thought I may have had it wrong I thought there may still be a chance for us. But I guess there really isn’t. I’m so sorry. I should have told you, I should have explained it.”
