mindmeafterdark

[mindmeafterdark]

Unfinished Business

-After I’d texted Camille, I shifted gears before I could get lost in the fantasy of how she may reply.  There was not time to fixate; I had unfinished business that had suddenly become pressing. 

Maxwell.

My urgency was driven by what seemed like divination. While I couldn’t guarantee my continued interest would be returned, I was banking on fate and needed to liberate myself from all other entanglements.  Though my arrangement with Maxwell was not a relationship in any traditional sense, I knew myself well enough to understand that my evening with Camille had rendered me unable to honor what I had agreed to with Maxwell. 

I neither could or would ignore the commitment I’d made to Maxwell; he deserved proper closure with me, no matter that we’d only shared a single session.

Not one to procrastinate, I dialed his number.  After only an introduction, his demeanor on the phone was already compliant.To his credit there had only been a slight dip in his tone to indicate disappointment but he quickly rebounded on two assurances.  We would meet later in the evening for a second, and final, time. In the intervening hours, I would make some calls on his behalf, so that he might continue with another Dom.  With things set in motion, the weightless way I felt after the evening with Camille began to resurface.

A few phone calls and a couple hours of light interrogations later, I’d found three prospective dominants who were willing to assume ownership of my sub and quickly took to understanding how his needs could be met.  Ultimately, the choice would be Maxwell's to make. 

When I stepped into the shower afterward, I indulged in thoughts of her. I hoped Camille wouldn’t keep me waiting too long on a reply. Perhaps I’d been too forward telling her to leave her panties at home, but I did not live life owing any debt to regret.   Besides, she owned a sex shop and we’d spent some quality time in that partitioned room. She could handle what I sent.  Whether she obeyed… only time would tell.  

My thoughts flashed to the nipple shields she’d sold me.  I already knew, they would only be used on her…or no one at all. Under the hot spray with my thoughts veering this direction, I was on a sheer cliff, teetering on a edge I didn’t have time for, so I stopped. My focus detoured to patience as I toweled off, dressed and finally got on my way. 

=============================================================

The night would be different than my first with Maxwell. He had earned some measure of reward for how he had taken to my change in circumstance, but we were not so established that I could give him everything that could have been.  That would be left to another.  

Maxwell was punctual and this time I opened the door when he knocked without a word. There would be no blindfold; he would see everything coming for him, eyes wide open. For his benefit, I intended the night to be shades and tastes of what could have been.

“Sir.” 

I didn’t acknowledge his address verbally, instead placing my hand on his crown and applying pressure, directing him.-

Knees. 

-No hesitation, he had taken to submission quickly. Maxwell was soon face to face with my hips. I stood there, silently, and observed.  After a few minutes, his lips parted and he started to pant lightly.  I gripped the back of his head by short hairs and yanked it backwards, angling him so that he could see my eyes when I spoke.-

What do you want, Maxwell?  

-He was immediately unsure, timid from his lower station.  He didn’t know what to do with the question I’d just asked. Relaxing my hold just slightly, I watched his eyes flash in front of him before staring back up at me.-

I asked you a question, boy.

-The term alone put him in his place. Not answering was unacceptable. I did not miss how hard he swallowed, nor the shake in his voice as he finally sucked it up.

“If it pleases you, Sir, I want to suck your cock.” His tone was already hoarse and desperate. 

That earned him a smirk, and nearly an arrogant laugh.  I let go of his hair and paced towards my instrumentation, leaving him where he was as I started measuring the floggers on display. His request had been presumptuous but what I had expected. I had placed him on his knees in front of me for a reason.  It was a lesson in the power of suggestion and admission. Selecting a black-and-gold, calfskin flogger from the wall,  I returned to stand in front of him, teasing what he wanted but wouldn’t have.-

I can’t see you properly. Fix that. Now. 

-He understood immediately. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He shed his shirt first and I kicked it out of sight. He started to get to his feet but paused, seeking my approval which was served in the form of a nod. Shoes, socks, jeans and whatever was underneath them were dispensed with. Though they had faded, bruises and marks were remnants of the time we had previously spent together. I used the flogger to remind him of where I had already touched while calculating where fresh stripes would land.-

Did you do as I asked? 

-“Yes, Sir.” He was eager now, walking over to the table at the center of the room and bending over it before spreading his ass so I could see he was wearing the plug.  Striding over, making sure he could hear the clap of my boots with each step, I stepped between his thighs, pressing two fingers against the base of the plug to drive it momentarily deeper.  He groaned.-

Do you like that? Your ass filled and shamelessly on display? 

-”Yes. Yes, SIR.” He corrected himself before I could, but I seized the opportunity to deliver a heavy handed lash across his muscled cheeks.  I briefly considered a gag when he let out the moan, but broke with idea as quickly as it came. Walking to the side of the table I dropped my lips to his ear.-

Will you like it when your new sir has you prone? Do you want to show him how good you can be?

-”Yes, Sir. I want to show him. I want to show you.”

I admonished him with a tsk of my tongue.-

Did I ask about me? 

-”No, Sir.” A backhand lash with the flogger in a diagonal motion across his back, earned flinches of muscles and a pink bloom rising on his skin. Gripping the plug between my fingers, I pulled it free of his tight rim in a swift motion, setting it aside.-

If you want that back you will have to earn it, Maxwell. Understood?

-”I understand, Sir.” Seizing him by the back of the neck, I brought him to a standing position and walked him over to the wall I had already adjusted according to his measurements. The flogger was dropped on a hook before I retrieved a cock ring from my pocket. I took his semi in my hand, watching his face as I slid the ring over his head, down his shaft until it was flush against the top of his balls. His lip quivered and his lashes fluttered, then his dick thickened in my hand.-

Face the wall. 

-He did as he was told and I splayed his arms wide, fastening buckles at each wrist before continuing to the larger collar that went around his neck.-

You are not limited to formal responses from this point forward. You won’t hold back, Maxwell. 

- “No, Sir. I won’t hold back."  

I attached the nipple clamps I had added to the wall before he arrived; I knew they were tight enough when an elicit hiss escaped his lips, and then I tightened them a little more.  I smacked the thick muscle of his inner thigh, knuckles grazing against his balls in a tease.- 

Spread. 

-One word commands left my sub with discretion but not much. His feet moved out and the bar with weighted cuffs on either end were attached to his ankles. It was locked in place

The tip of his dick dripped onto the wall. Time for some…conversation. I pressed against him, my bare chest against his back, rewarding him with the feel of skin and further confinement by my body.-

Listen. 

You can speak. You can moan. You can cry. You can beg. What you will not do is come, not without my express permission.  

-I trailed breath across shoulders broader than my own to speak into his opposite ear.-

If I let you come at all. 

-An audible groan satisfied the sadist in me, and I stepped back.  With Maxwell affixed to the wall, he was at my mercy, right where he wanted to be. Retrieving the flogger, I eyed his athletic ass, proud to know he accepted himself for who he was and what he wanted, even if the world remained in the dark.  It was more than most in his position could admit, many favoring a denial that gnawed at a person from the inside out.-

You presumed you could just suck my cock.  

-A blur of rawhide served as prelude to delivery of the most forceful whip against his skin. He arched into the wall. His nipples stretched tight as his shoulder blades pinched together in a tense display of angled and arced muscle and protrusion of bone.

“Please, Sir.  I want to choke on you, swallow you… please.” 

The naivety of his begging was almost…endearing. I had given him permission but that would not earn him this.  My cock was spoken for, whether Camille claimed it or not.-

No. You will save your throat for your new sir. 

-More stripes across his ass, these ones angrier and closer to red. He was fighting against my denial, choking out words as he realized his helplessness. I got up close to his ear again.-

Doesn’t your new sir deserve that submission? 

“Yes, Sir. He does… but-”  I cut him off, pinching his lips tight between my fingers, shaking my head slowly back and forth.-

I said NO.  

-This time I fetched a studded glove. The studs were smooth and rounded, they wouldn't break skin, but they would leave pretty little diamond welts. I knew he could handle more and Maxwell was about to receive. With my bare, left hand I gripped his dick and squeezed it in my fist.- 

Tell me again what you want, Maxwell. 

-He turned his head in the collar to meet my stare without fear, attempting to bait me with an intentional run of his tongue between his lips. 

"Your cock. I want it, Sir. In my mouth or in my ass. Anywhere. Everywhere." 

This earned a succession of merciless smacks against his bared ass. I let go of his cock as he wailed.- 

Doesn't your new sir deserve a virgin ass to claim? Don't you want to be all his?

-Through gasps I got his compliance as I stepped back behind him, admiring the pattern left on his cheeks.- 

Tell me what you want now, Maxwell. -leaning in, I caught his earlobe between my teeth, tugging hard before releasing it to deliver instruction.-

Speak clearly. 

-"I want to be good for my new sir. I want to be all his to use. To please. To punish. I want to worship his cock when I've earned it. I want to be good." He trailed off on the repetition, sounding broken. I would not hand him off this way.-

Good. Whoever you choose will be pleased. They will be lucky. Do not forget that. 

-Reaching between Maxwell and the wall, I released the nipple clamps from it and freed him from the collar around his neck. I grabbed his hips and guided him back. His poor cock was swollen and pulsing wherever veins were present but his ass was better on display for the taking.-

Do you want to be full again, Maxwell? 

-He moaned before he answered and I ran the gloved hand between his cheeks, teasing circles around his tight hole, applying pressure but not breaching his entrance. 

"Please, Sir. Please…I need it….Please." 

The agony in his voice was something to chew on and savor and I did as I selected his reward: a four-bead, graduated, glass plug. I took my time, allowing the tension to rebuild as I coated the plug with an ample amount of lube. Walking back to where he was I pressed a hand into his lower back, forcing a deeper arch.-

Time to graduate, boy. 

-I wedged the glass between his cheeks and wasted no time easing in the tip. 

"Yesssss. More. Please." He stretched back, physically begging, and I pushed in further until the first bead disappeared inside him. There was less time allowed for rebound as his rim stretched further to accommodate the second. 

"Gooooooood. So good." He was breathless, his voice raspy. He was not trained properly for the fourth, but the third was a possibility.-

One more? 

-An unintelligible string of sounds passed his lips before he managed an actual answer. 

"One more. Make me ready. I want to be ready." The answer pleased me. This is where I wanted him, primed and ready for his new dominant.-

Very good, Maxwell. Breathe. -I circled the third bead, slowly working it inside, and he let go of a high pitched moan as I watched his toes curl against the floor and his arms tug against the restraints on the wall. After a few more breaths, I upped the pace to relentless as perspiration glistened on his skin and down the canal of his spine. 

He started to meet the thrusts of my hand as much as he could in the position he was in. His hips rocked back and up, and my own strokes with the plug became more forceful. He was crying for relief, begging for it and while I had made my decision, I didn't announce it immediately, instead opting to reach between is thighs to give his balls a squeeze…delaying his orgasm while making it decidedly more difficult. As he showed greater restraint in response to the torture of edging, I finally gave the permission he needed.-

Let it go. Show me what you've earned.

-I released his balls and gripped him by one shoulder. His body torqued then tensed.-

Come. -I growled out the order and it didn't take anything else. His body jerked and waved until he had emptied every drop he had to give.  His body sagged. His legs shook. He shuddered as I pulled each bead free from his ass.  Grabbing a towel I released him from the spreader bar, then the wrist restraints and then, without releasing any of the tension, snapped the clamps off his nipples, earning a final yelp. The cock ring stayed. I pressed the towel I to his hand.-

Clean up the floor, Maxwell and then come join me. 

-I waited as he patiently did as he was told before he stretched out on the table. He wore a sated smile while I attended to the wounds and marks, and spoke quiet words of approval. I shared with him what I knew of the other Doms I'd conversed with earlier. His thanks were numerous and he expressed he felt whole.

He had been rewarded, as had I. With compliance. With graciousness. With surrender. 

I no longer needed the control that drove me to the lifestyle, but this was somehow richer and more fulfilling than the prior experiences I'd shared with submissive because I didn't need it. 

I didn't need it because in place of the previous void in my chest, hope swelled. 

Maxwell and I shared a polite goodbye, with assurances he could reach out if ever he wanted advice or guidance. I knew if he ended up in the right hands, there would be no need. He was free now. 

As was I.

On the short walk to my car, I was at last able to check my phone. I grinned. 

Camille had replied.-

[mindmeafterdark]

About Her

-A grin was plastered on my face as I stared up at the ceiling while stretched out on my bed replaying the evening with Camille.  I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt a smile that was rooted in the depths of me. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt...hopeful.

Her company alone seemed to usher in healing. I could feel the open wounds inside of me knitting together even after we’d said our goodbye.  Every laugh, every smile, every skeptical look and arch of her eyebrow, had already diminished the scars left by an unfinished story. 

I was enveloped by Camille’s presence, memories of the love she identically resembled fading into the pages of my history, my focus honed in on the woman in front of me.  There were moments between us where nostalgia whipped like wind, certain gestures and expressions Camille made stealing my breath momentarily before she anchored me back in the present. She may not have known it, but I was lost in her atmosphere, and I did not want to be found.

I’d placed my hand next to the one she had resting on the table, anxious for any kind of contact as I let our fingers brush.  She didn’t retract her hand, which was enough of an indicator she was content to explore whatever it was happening between us. The wicks of chemistry had been lit; the burn was already sure.

I knew she was tired, but our conversation came easily, and she made me laugh. Open and full, I realized I was already transformed. Camille was whip smart, a successful business owner, and a vivacious personality. I would not forget how she shined in the dim lighting of the restaurant, the orange beams cast from the sconces on the wall picking up the sheen of her hair and highlighting the apples of her cheeks.  I couldn’t let her slip away, I wouldn’t. The forward banter we shared may have been driven by sexual attraction, but there was an undercurrent of something more.  Our potential wasn’t imagined and from my vantage it could only be explained as preordained, but I would respect that free will was still in play. 

I hadn’t checked my watch a single time, and unless I missed a discreet action of hers, I hadn’t seen Camille do so either. We lingered in that little Thai restaurant long after our last bites, only leaving once we realized we might be keeping the staff.  We ended up loitering outside, sharing more conversation under the exterior lights, before those too went dark.  

The urge to grab her hand  as we headed down the street was unrelenting, and so I gave in. Our palms came together and I held her hand loosely, providing opportunity for her to pull back if she was uncomfortable, but soon her dainty fingers squeezed mine. My hand eclipsed hers as I held onto it more tightly.  

The walk felt short, and as we found ourselves under the awning of her store, it took every ounce of willpower I could summon not to kiss her. I didn’t need months to decide, or even hours.  I was certain that I was right where I was meant to be, our meeting serendipitous, our fates on the precipice of intertwining. That knowledge added strength to my reserve. Mostly. 

Before I let go, I lifted her hand to my lips, brushing them over the bend of her knuckles while wondering at her thoughts. We had time, not that I would waste any with her, but the kiss was not for then. Not yet. Even if I wanted to bring her home to my bed. I may have been a gentleman but my thoughts were far outside the boundaries of innocence. 

Releasing her hand, I brought mine up, tucking her hair behind her ear and offering her a crooked but wide grin. I told her that I wouldn’t make her wait, that she would be hearing from me before she could decide against it. It had earned her laugh, but what she couldn’t have known was that her laugh owned me. 

It was the recollection of that sound echoing in my ears that had me blissed out in my bed, staring at the ceiling, not sure if I could sleep.

I suddenly missed my sister, Mia, with a ferocity. We’d been separated by circumstance for years, too many timelines between us.  Not only did I want to divulge my every thought on the experience to the only person who would understand the gravity of it, she would love Camille. I knew without a doubt that they would forge a united, spitfire front, giving me greys and testing my patience, but I invited it all with open arms. That would wait, however. 

In the meantime, there was a text to send. I’d promised Camille I wouldn’t make her wait.

Typing it out, I proofread it for mistakes before I’d hit send on the first one.  

“Unplanned as it was, thank you for an incredible night. Looking forward to another. Soon. -Kai.”   

I waited for just a few moments before sending another that would deliver a taste of my predilections.  

“And, Camille, your panties? Leave them home tomorrow. When you go into that curtained room of yours, I want you thinking of me. Rewards await.”

No matter how bold, I would not regret the send. It was only fair for her to know my intentions. What happened next was up to her.-

[mindmeafterdark]

An In Person Hang Up with @OneCheekyGal

Kai:

-The evening with Maxwell was long gone from my thoughts, seemingly eons ago, replaced by something much more enduring, and in a shocking turn, transformative. There truly hadn’t been anything like it since I’d suffered the loss of Cora. I had remained rooted in the past, as much as I tried to run from it, I could never escape the weight of her death. Though there were times my languishing had waned, it was a constant backdrop, training behind me for longer than a lifetime. 

That was until I’d happened to call for an appointment at the Toy Box and reached Camille. Her voice and its every inflection had been identical to Cora’s, my physical and emotional responses had confirmed it. Despite this haunting similarity, I felt unweighted and firmly rooted in the present instead of lost to the past. That was most notable in my expanding interest in Camille. 

Though the sound of her voice had initially initially hooked me, I realized there was something more that was luring me. The conversation may have been ordinary to any observer, insignificant even, but it was nothing of the sort. The underlying nuances may have escaped anyone else, but once her voice had captured my attention, I was entirely engaged. The evolution of her reactions, from distracted to considering to flustered to laughing and finally the abrupt farewell, she seemed to be affected as well. Without having seen her or had any true personal exchange, I was at the genesis of a building attraction, something I thought was an impossibility for me. I’d repeated her name several times during the intervening hours, reveling in how it felt on my tongue. 

And we were about to meet. 

The sun had burned away all cloud cover as the hours passed by or I would have left to arrive at the earliest opportunity. Instead, I had too much time to mull over how to present myself for this second first impression with her. It may have been lunacy to feel such a way before laying eyes on a person, but I was not going to take for granted this rebirth of feeling captivated. I finally landed on a brighter, blue t-shirt and casual slacks as opposed to darker attire. It suited my new locale, especially given the heat and proximity to the ocean. After a shower, a shave, a taming of my hair, and a very light application of cologne, I’d dressed and headed to my car. It was a short drive away and I parked just around the corner from Camille’s shop with five minutes to spare.  I walked up to the door, anticipation peaking, and used the back of my knuckles to knock.- 

Camille: 

*Somehow, as the day moved along, I worked to find a way to put Kai and his coffee voice out of my mind. I filled my day with cleaning every single display that was set up in the shop, straightened and re-straightened bottles on shelves, I even wiped down the water feature wall. The few customers who came through the store in person, I scrutinized the sound of their voice only to end up disappointed when I concluded none of them belonged to him. 

I was beyond curious and as the hours ticked by I began to worry. I didn’t want to lose my cool when he was here the way I had over the phone. At least over the phone he wasn’t able to see embarrassment on my face. I needed to take back control, if for nothing else than to feel like my normal, confident self. 

After checking the clock for the millionth time, I knew that was a lost cause. Time had started off with moving entirely too slow even while I had been cleaning as a distraction, and then suddenly, without any warning, it sped up like it was the white rabbit...late for a very important date. I scoffed at myself for that particular train of thought and went in search of my own white animal. Betty had kept her distance from me all day which was odd for her, then again, she always had been a good judge of my moods and must not have appreciated the energy I had been putting out in my efforts to forget the way a certain conversation had affected me.

Time had ticked down to minutes now, and my nerves had returned in full force. I didn’t like the way it made me feel. In my search, I found Betty curled up asleep on top of my desk next to a sample box of novelty masks that had been sent to me by a company in the hopes that I’d place an order with them. Originally, I had been on the fence about them, but now, as an idea formed, I could see their appeal. 

Choosing the female version, I returned to the front of the store and removed the mask from its plastic, slid the loops over each ear then checked myself out in one of the changing room mirrors. My laughter at the sight of the pink-lipped mouth and black ball gag printed on the front of the mask was immediate and left me feeling more like myself. This was exactly what I needed...there was no way he’d be able to disarm me like he had earlier on the phone while looking at this. 

As I adjusted the wire nose piece to fit better, I continued to laugh. All humour ceased when I heard a knock at the door, because of course he would knock! I had left it open for him, but given the way he spoke, I really shouldn’t have been surprised he was the proper knocking before entering type. 

After one last glance in the mirror, I moved to the door and swung it open with a smile...not that he’d be able to see it beneath the mask.* Hello, Kai? *snorting at myself, I shook my head and stepped aside, purposely not looking too long at him out of fear that I’d lose the return of my normal self.* Of course you are, duh. Nobody else asked for an appointment tonight. Please come in. 

Kai

-Anticipation mounted as I waited for her to open the door and just when she did… muttering about my name, I broke into a chuckle on sight of the mask she was wearing. It was an instant reminder I’d forgotten one, not that I needed it. It had been easier in Texas to roll around without one for the sake of appearances. I couldn’t help but continue to laugh as I stepped in. The ball gag mask commanding my attention for its bold humor.- Camille… I don’t even know your safe word. -dropping my lips close to her ear as she closed the door behind us, I whispered one more word.- Yet.

-Not the best of lines, but not the worst either, at least I hoped. While she finished locking up behind me, or attending to whatever business she had at the door, I had the opportunity for a better look . Her stature would have her tucked perfectly below my chin, just where Cora would fit. Her hair was also the same, rich color Cora had pinned into curls, though Camille wore it straighter, the light catching the nuances of natural highlights. With every detail a piece of the puzzle filled in for my wishful heart. I wanted her eyes… needed her eyes, but I knew no image of her could be complete so long as she wore that mask. Even with part of her face undercover, I was moved by something unseen, an electricity in the atmosphere, something beyond comprehension, but definitely sensed. I was determined, one way or another, to get the full picture before I left. 

As I stood in the store, my eyes scanned the area to see what I could see. The place was impeccably kept, I could even scent the cleaner in the air, though it wasn’t at all off putting like a hospital. From the water feature wall adorned with some suction cup sex toys, to the candid and organized displays, nothing appeared to be placed without thought or careful consideration.  I absolutely loved the idea of Camille owning a shop brandishing all the wares for proper kink, and sexual indulgence. I awaited the attractive proprietor before venturing any further into the store, after all the visit had become as much about her as procurement, if not more.-

Camille: 

*The sound of Kai’s laughter upon seeing my mask was enough to convince me they deserved a spot on my shelves, it had done exactly what I had hoped for, slid me straight into a familiar ease. I was used to making people laugh, I enjoyed it, and I enjoyed the sound of Kai’s particularly when it continued as he stepped inside. 

I had already turned off the OPEN sign so I took my time making sure the lock was twisted into place after closing the door. I was feeling proud as a peacock until he spoke. Thank the gods of kink my back was to him when he made mention of not knowing my safe word. UM WHAT?! That was not a normal thing to say to someone even if that someone happened to be wearing a ball gag mask. And holy hell, his voice was right there. Next to my ear. He had gotten close enough I could just barely smell the scent of whatever cologne he was wearing through my mask.

My mind went completely blank, offline, blue screen of death level inoperable. I was back to the phone call from this morning speechless all over again. Shitshitshit. 

How does a person even reply?! Should I pretend I didn’t hear him? No. Only a deaf person could claim that. And more importantly, since when does Mr. Speaks-Like-He's-From-Another-Time-And-Knocks-On-Doors talk like that? He was nowhere near flirting with me on the phone this morning...wasn’t he? 

So. Many. Questions. Zero answers. I was in trouble. 

Fortunately, as I turned around from the door, his attention was not on me. I took the reprieve to shake my brain back online only to realize...DUH, of course he would know about safe words, everyone and their mother knew what that was. And really, thanks to the 50 Shades of Trash, safe word talk was far from uncommon. Maybe he was just messing with me. I blamed the mask. Definitely was not going to order those fuckers. Absolutely not. 

Control. Where had it gone? I needed to regain it, at the very least of myself and return to being a professional. If that was still possible...Likely not, but I was willing to live in my own delusions for as long as Kai was in my shop. Deciding the shock value of my mask had worn off, I removed it and stepped closer to the counter to set it aside, and in the process, found my cheeky side...not exactly the professional I was aiming for but far better than the bumbling mute I had just been. 

My smile was still in place as I spoke, this time I made sure to take a proper look at his face since my previous avoiding tactic hadn’t worked at all.* Can’t say I remember the last time I had a need for a safe word, Kai. *I held back a cringe at my far too honest answer, I couldn’t take it back now. Not wanting to leave him too much time to interpret that confession, I spoke again.* So...what can I help you find tonight? 

Kai

-Even with my back to her, I could sense Camille’s fluster; I thrived off of it. I liked having such an impact on her, mostly because I had been bewitched by her in the course of a phone call. I could feel her movement, she was closer to me but to my right. My grin widened into a lopsided smile when her confession slipped, providing me insight. I was emboldened, confident, ready to get her out of that mask. 

I turned and stepped closer simultaneously, bringing my eyes up to find hers, and that was when the world flipped end to end. Everything engaged all at once, realization dawning that if my mind was playing tricks that it had executed to perfection. The atmosphere was sparking like a live wire. I stepped even closer.

The world stopped then spun. 

Stopped. 

Spun. 

Blurred out of focus.

Zoomed back into clarity.

My vision tunneled, magnetized to her. Gods...by the air I breathed, her every flawless feature was there. From the warmth of her eyes flecked with mischief, to the sweet bow of her lips with the slightest, unique upturn at their corners and her perfectly auspicious nose, she was the very image of the love I’d lost. I was sucked into the vortex of my past, her name on the tip of my tongue but I would not speak it. The beautiful woman who stood in front of me was very well, breathing, and undeniably of modern times. 

I’d been stricken by the familiarity in her voice, but seeing her identical resemblance, there was no passing it off as the fantasy of a wishful mind and a weary soul. With everything in place, the sight of her ignited a backdraft of reactions, and urges I had to immediately suppress. I did not want our first meeting to end up our last. I wanted to be her last first. My hope had been dismantled when Cora’s soul had dispensed…but now it was as if I could see that I was standing on the precipice of something that defied explanation. 

I was curious. Did she feel anything at all stirring in her bones?  Was I alone in this welcomed haze of déjà vu? I wanted to ask her. I wanted to know. I was fighting my own impatience. My heart stuttered in my chest, beating some erratic rhythm I couldn’t quite call to order, but I found a raspy form of my voice and did my damnedest to call my sanity to order.-

I am quite finicky about this particular item...perhaps you can show me to your stock of nipple clamps? 

Nothing novelty. -a slight command had returned to my tone, praise the Gods. 

Heart. Hammering. 

I was unused to being caught off guard, but I waited for her answer like she was on the cusp of revealing all the mysteries of the universe and a free round trip to the seven wonders of the world.-

Camille: 

*I didn’t know what to make of the silence that followed my question. Was he suddenly feeling shy about what he wanted to look at or was he mulling over my admission and coming to realize my sex life had been as stagnant as a murky puddle on the side of the road. I hoped it wasn’t that. I could work with coaxing out what he wanted to see, but I didn’t think I could recover from the alternative. 

Embarrassment began to burn my ears but before it could creep onto my cheeks he answered and relief flooded the blush, washing it away like a candle being snuffed out in the rain. 

Nipple clamps. 

He wanted to see nipple clamps. I almost laughed. In all my years, I never would have guessed he’d say that. It was a rare occurrence when I couldn’t figure out what someone might ask for prior to them telling me. It was a weird feeling to be taken by surprise like that, but the weirdness gave way to a thrill of the unknown akin to the way it felt when riding a rollercoaster for the first time. 

My lips twitched and I nodded as I moved past him, still keeping a mindful distance while heading toward the room hidden by the heavy black curtain, I spoke to him as I drew the curtain back and tucked it behind a hook.* Do you know what style you are looking for? 

*Moving deeper into the room, I grabbed a few varieties off the display on the wall as I listed the types for him, figuring if he decided upon staying where he was, I could bring them to him to look at, though something inside me I couldn’t exactly identify hoped he’d be curious about what else was behind the curtain, and might want to look at more than just nipple clamps. Not to make a larger sale, but to lengthen his visit.* Alligator clamps, with and without teeth, tweezer clamps, string and bead clamps for longer wear, magnetic clamps, spring tension rings that work with piercings, nipple suckers. Vibrating clamps. 

*I grinned proudly at my variety as I turned around and found he had definitely followed me and was practically next to me, so I used my hands as a table to spread all the styles out for him to inspect, curiously waiting to see which he would be drawn to.* 

Kai

-I couldn’t help myself from following her into the room I knew had been partitioned because of the types of items found there. I was lured to her in a way that failed definition, and was for more than her being a doppelgänger.  I felt like I could breathe for the first time in damn near a century. I looked around the room while she plucked some of her wares to share, impressed that her inventory was definitely quality over novelty, not that her shop was free of those items. It was the balance she struck that I respected. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but my instinct was screaming not to back off. Her scent was… subtle, cherry blossom-esque, earthy, delicately floral and faintly sweet, too. 

I could tell she took care in selecting the clamps she did, my mouth hooking up at one side in a grin as she held them out. I picked up the vibrating clamps, setting them aside on the nearest shelf. I brushed my fingers over the nipple suckers, though I admired their mechanics, I set those aside, too. My eyes raised to hers, noting she was concentrating on what I picked, and I wanted to draw out all the suspense I could. In the end I left the Alligator clamps with teeth, black-tipped tweezer clamps with a weighted chain and… a stunning and expensive looking pair of butterfly clamps. I was not permanently discarding the other options, but I was engaged and had particular intentions that hopefully would result in extending our evening. Lifting the butterfly clamps, they struck a particular cord in this moment with her.-

I’m sure you know that most instruments of pleasure and pain have a history that came before their current use? -grinning, turning the clamps in my fingers, pleased with their weight-

These I have a true affinity for. They were invented by women, Japanese seamstresses, and originally called clover clamps. They were used to hold fabric in place so that the hand stitching was impeccable. I love their simplicity and strength. How the tension increases as you pull on their ends. The way they can bring about pain with a slow burn, like a good whiskey down your throat, is also divinity. 

Now, tell me, Camille, what is it that I set aside you would add back to my selection? -I raised a brow, awaiting her reaction and further insight into what her own taste might reveal-

Camille:

*Never before had I been so curious as to what someone might choose from my offerings. With each item Kai had put aside, I felt a tiny bubble of excitement grow and grow, like air being pushed into a piece of gum. Would it pop all over my face or would I be able to suck the air back in my lungs and control the gum without embarrassment. I wasn’t sure. Most customers checked the back of the packaging where the price sticker was always placed when considering items they were wanting to buy, he didn’t even bother looking. I couldn’t decide if that meant he was trying to impress me or if he actually cared about what he purchased, and that the price wasn’t part of the decision making process for him. 

It was as he began describing the history of a particular set of clamps that I decided his interests were that of someone authentic and not just some guy who thought a kinky lifestyle was the next cool thing to do. I was impressed. The bubblegum bubble in my stomach threatened to blow wide open, stretching dangerously thinner when he asked his question. 

The tone was one of someone who was used to being in control and the subtle command wasn’t at all off putting. In fact, I smiled at him as I sat down his choices, away from the ones he made clear were not to his liking, and moved back to the display wall. 

I hadn’t originally shown him everything I stocked. My initial selection was to gauge his true interests. Now that I had rather safely assumed price point wasn’t a concern for him, particularly after he kept the more expensive items, and discarded the lower end, entry level clamps, I knew what I wanted to show him. I took my time browsing my selection, I knew exactly where they hung on the wall, but if he was wanting to see what I would add to his options I needed a couple steadying breaths before turning back to his scrutinizing gaze. 

I wanted to impress him, now. I wanted my choice to go home with him and earn a place among what I was starting to imagine was a rather extensive collection of items he knew how to expertly wield. And if I was really being honest with myself, I wanted him to remember this appointment tonight every time he looked at this particular item, and be reminded of me. 

As I turned away from the display wall and popped open the packaging, I slid one of the wide flat disks out and held it up. To anyone else it would be mistaken for a delicately designed nipple shield, but I knew the secret it held.* I think you did a great job weeding out the clamps I showed, and instead of putting one back in the pile, I’d add this instead. 

*Returning to stand in front of him again, I reached for one of his hands and lined up the opening of the shield to his pinky finger.* Most people overlook the use of a nipple shield. It’s usually designed for comfort of the wearer and generally chosen for personal expression with all the different types of designs you can get them in. But these ones are different. They can still work with any of the clamps you’ve picked out but…you see this outer ring right here? *I slowly twisted the ring I knew he was watching and waited until he felt the tiny circle of points close in around his pinky finger. Gradually, I twisted the ring a little further to demonstrate the degree of control he could have with them while showing how they could add another layer of pain when combined with any clamp he wanted to use.* 

 Kai:

-She. Was. Stunning. Every reaction she offered complimented mine before it with a remarkable ease. I could sense her anticipation and it only multiplied my own. Her smile held an enigmatic allure, one I was sure came natural and was not practiced. 

When Camille set aside the clamps I’d selected and seemingly the options I’d discarded, the urge to say “good girl” was hard pressed to die on my tongue. I hadn’t taken her for anything less than savvy, but when she turned to go seek something new, the tension in the smaller room stretched like a rubber band, escalating my ambitions. She’d held out, and didn’t that just whet my appetite.

It was in that span of drawn out moments, I became aware my attraction was not to an unfinished past, or a recollection of love.  Time had changed me. Experiences had forced my growth. Modern influence had weighed in on my adaptation. I realized I had shed the Kai I was a near century ago, evolved into a different man, and with that my understanding deepened. It was Camille who drew the man I had become.

My eyes followed her and only her. I wasn’t trying to see what she was looking for, and when she turned away, my staring was unabashed. I blew out a quiet breath on sight of her pert and curved ass, small waist, and the strong shoulders of her petite frame. Her body cinched and swelled in all ways enticing. The opportunity to admire her physical attributes was both a privilege and an indulgence that only served to elevate my attraction. 

She multitasked as she turned back in my direction, opening the packaging while she walked, then revealing what she’d chosen. A sleek, brushed metal, thin disk, simple in design, a nipple shield of some variety. Curious, I raised a brow. Behind her casual words I sensed something more, and she did not disappoint that expectation.

When she took my hand, a surge of blood rushed through my veins as if her touch could conduct electricity. My grin hooked up at one corner as she slid the shield onto the tip of my finger, providing me explanation in a tone of voice that was sensual, and pleasing. When she turned the ring in demonstration, the points pressed into my skin, the biting sensation against the nerve endings of my finger inciting a riot of reactions. 

I was impressed.

I was aroused. 

I was captivated. 

I was admittedly a little smug at her reveal. I wanted insight into what turned her on and she had delivered beyond my wildest imaginings. Not only had she shown me something about her tastes, she had nailed mine. It didn’t matter that the clover clamps may have indicated my own preferences, making it less than a guess. What mattered was that she had paid attention, and what that exposed. My grin widened as my eyes raised, getting caught on another unintentional moment of show-and-tell. In subtle outline, under her green blouse, was most definitely a pierced nipple. My gaze quickly darted to the opposite side to answer my next question. And, yes, she had completed the set. I swallowed a groan, wanting to explore the entire landscape of her mind and body. My eyes finally made it to hers as the ring continued the pinch at my finger, and her hand had not dropped from mine.-

I am thoroughly taken with these. First, I’ve never come across them. Second, they pair with my taste consummately. Third… 

-I paused, knowing what I was about to say was more dirty than gentlemanly, but time was of the essence.-

Don’t you find that far too often the nipples are overlooked as an erogenous zone? 

Camille:

*I had never been one to seek out the approval of another. EVER. Not as a child, or teen, or even as an adult and absolutely not in any of my relationships, platonic, familial or romantic. It just wasn’t who I was as a person. I have always known who I was and had always been content with that. My self-awareness was strong, and stronger than that was my inability to yield to the approval of others. I had always taken the approach of if someone didn’t like something about me, that was their problem, not mine. 

And yet...

With the look in Kai’s eyes as I showed him how the nipple shield worked on his finger, and the way he spoke about them fitting in with his tastes, I felt the bubble of gum explode inside my stomach, leaving behind a desire to seek more of his approval. I didn’t know what to do with this feeling or myself, and so, I continued to stand there, staring into his eyes, listening to him speak in that coffee voice I found oh so irresistible. Until he asked a question I normally would have side-stepped like a landmine because I was still a professional, and knew better than to get tangled up in the inappropriate with a customer. 

And yet…

My head was nodding immediately and my mouth was running away with my agreement before my brain could even find the emergency break.*

OH MY GOD. Yes. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times my nipples have been disappointed in the past. I mean, what is the point of a gal piercing the damn things if she doesn’t want them to be played with?! That alone should be an open invitation, if you ask me! They are not an ornament you put on display on the mantel above the fireplace, never to be touched and only appreciated. And they are certainly not meant to just be looked at because they are pretty! Nipples deserve so much more than to be overlooked. They are not wallflowers. *I ended my single-breath tirade in a huff then laughed as I shook my head, feeling the burn of embarrassment high on my cheekbones.* 

Shit. I did not mean to unpack all of that *my hand moved in the air between us* on you. I’m not apologizing though, because it’s true...I’m just usually a lot better at filtering my thoughts around clients, but damn, if you didn’t hit a sore spot for me. Hell, I have even said those exact words before. 

*As I came to that realization, my eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.* You don’t know any of my exes, do you? *Speaking more to myself, I shook my head and muttered my own reasoning of that away before I went with the next most ridiculous reason on the list of how he could say something exactly as I had myself.* 

I can’t imagine any of them knowing you and not mentioning it to me at some point. Mind reader then. That has to be it. There is no way you could ask a question so succinctly worded that it sounds like I was asking it myself. 

*I was so singularly focused on his question, I didn’t have time to consider all the revealing things I had said, least of all being the fact that I admitted to having my nipples pierced, I could die of mortification over that later, when I was alone like a normal girl would.* 

Kai

-Camille continued to impress and my amusement was instantaneous, expressed in a low chuckle, as she revealed her own frustrations. I was not a spy, nor a friend of an ex, or otherwise positioned to have known how my question would affect her. I had stumbled onto rose gold, which was somehow the color that bloomed in her cheeks, probably at the realization of her disclosures. 

The animation in her features only heightened her beauty, the way her eyes widened in kindred recognition, the way she huffed in exasperation as an exclamation point on a valid argument, and the casual dismissal of her assumed oversharing with a wave of her hand. 

I was taken with her candor and how her thoughts poured out without reserve. There was only one stutter, and not in her speech, but when she referred to me as her client. A fact for certain, but one I was immediately intent on changing. Camille deserved someone who could show her nipples proper attention. By the sounds of her venting, she’d suffered a string of disappointments and lackluster attempts in this department. 

Excitement tightened my jaw and stiffened my cock at the mere thought of an opportunity to show her how good it could be if she were put in the proper hands. My past relationship had been chaste; despite her aplomb, Cora and I had remained fairly traditional. My expanded experience only came after, and was predominantly male-oriented. 

Here and now, I was every ounce the modern man and not at all bound by antiquated formalities. Something cemented in me at the realization. In a world of possibilities that encompassed reincarnation and biologically immortal super humans, we should be unbound, and not destined to repeat the preceding cycle. It was a divergent path, one I would take without hesitation into undiscovered territory. 

I laughed easily, nodding my head in agreement to all she said, laughing more when she suggested I might be a mind reader, if I wasn’t an acquaintance of one of her exes. Comfortable, emboldened, all ice obliterated, I was ready to delve into every point she had left me to answer.-

I’d have a difficult time being a friend to anyone who neglected any nipples so egregiously, Camille. And while I credit your powers of deduction, I am not a mind reader, either. Admittedly, my eye for detail did reveal something before you confirmed it...I am a sucker for pierced nipples. -A sideways smirk hit my lips as I chanced another glance, making sure she caught it. It was well worth the risk of getting smacked to reveal my interest.- 

We do have a problem though, if I’m being upfront. You have everything and more I want to purchase, and I would certainly and solely support your business as a matter of taste. But, you see, I would rather ask you out. -leaning in, I wanted the weight of my inhale and exhale to register- And, if I were so fortunate to have you agree, I’d make sure your nipples were never wallflowers, or adorned with piercings for naught.  -I stepped back, wanting to give her the physical space to consider my words- I don’t want to be a client, if it means a conflict of interest. 

Camille: 

*His reaction to my unsolicited tirade made me laugh. A lot. The formal speech paired with the topic of pleasuring nipples was a dichotomy enough that I almost missed him admitting to already knowing I had piercings. The realization brought some levity back to the moment and I fought hard not to cross my arms over my chest. I felt exposed despite being covered though the smirk that followed his confession left me feeling more empowered than embarrassed, and my grin up at Kai was a genuine one.

The curve of my lips faltered when he spoke of a problem, and my brows knit together as I quickly went over in my mind how things could have taken such a turn for him. I thought things were going perfectly. He liked the product samples I showed and even seemed pleased when I tested the nipple shield on his finger. 

Much like when we had spoken on the phone earlier, he got straight to the point before I could even ask what the issue was, when he was done, my mouth fell open in surprise. He wanted to ask me out?! Not even if I was psychic could I have seen that coming. More to the point, he was willing to shop elsewhere despite liking my product lines  just to prevent any kind of conflict of interest for me. 

I was stunned silent for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the way he had moved in close and spoke low, reminding me of the way he had sounded earlier through the telephone. Except now, I had the added benefit of catching the scent of him and seeing his face and watching the way his lips moved as he spoke. Oh boy. 

I licked over my lips and pulled the bottom one between my teeth as my heart hammered away erratically in my chest. I knew my answer, and I offered another smile to him as I reached out to remove the shield from his finger.* Well. It’s a good thing I am the boss, isn’t it? While I normally say no to these kinds of situations, I’m finding it really hard to follow my own rule at the moment. 

*I slid the shield back into the packaging, closing it then waving it between us a little before picking up the rest of the items he previously said he wanted.* You don’t have to shop anywhere else unless that’s what you want, though I don’t see anything wrong with you supporting my business and us going on a date. *I moved past him, making my way toward the cash register and speaking over my shoulder to him as he followed behind.* I have no doubt with all of these items you are going to buy, my future nipples will be very happy. 

Kai

-I loved her laugh. Adored it. I wanted to record it so I could replay it. Of course, it wouldn’t bear the same effect if I did. It was that it was in reaction to me and its unforced quality laced together by the bell-like tone and uninhibited sound of it. Apparently we were done in the backroom, but I didn’t have time to raise any objections. I had a grin plastered on my face for a multitude of reasons. She had said yes, but it was not that simple. It had flustered her, I had noted it in the quiet that preceded the drop of her bottom lip, followed by the press of her teeth into it before she landed on her answer. She wasn’t done then. She took the shield off the tip of my finger, repackaged it and waved it in front of my face, a silent admonishing for even the consideration of me shopping elsewhere. Finally, there was the admission that I was essentially an exception, worth breaking a personal rule for. I did not take that lightly. I turned on my heel as her petite yet curvy body easily slipped by me. 

I normally did not follow, but she was also an exception for me. She might even succeed in getting me on my knees and under her command, were the circumstances optimal. That was a self-revelation I wasn’t expecting, as I had never submitted or even considered it. Those cards were going to be held close to the chest. For now. 

She earned a laugh that ended on a groan when she mentioned her future nipples being very happy. Even in jest, that told me she was thinking about me in a certain way, I welcomed the innuendo. As I met her at the counter, I had to resist joining her behind it. Instead, I remained a gentleman, ignoring the instinct to behave otherwise.-

Does the fact that you’re ringing me up also mean you’re kicking me out? Early bedtime, Camille? -I wasn’t about to let the night end so easily, but would respect any request she made. While I watched her carefully add up my tab, it dawned on me why she had hung up during her call, I must have flustered her then as well. That small epiphany increased my heart rate. If she felt an attraction just during the course of our discussion, maybe there was more than just coincidence to our meeting. Now, standing in her store, she couldn’t end it as she had abruptly done with our call, but she was giving it the most valiant of efforts with the move to close the sale. Toying with a small vibrator on a counter display, I kept my tone purposely casual.-

And after you answer that, tell me, do you like to be the boss in every aspect of your life? -my eyebrow lifted as I awaited her eye contact, along with her reply.-

Camille: 

*Hearing his laughter behind me when I joked about my nipples had a smile growing on my lips. I couldn’t help it now that he had made his interest in me known. I wasn’t sure that he was finished browsing, however his request earlier had been about nipple clamps, and we had successfully taken care of that. If he wanted something else, he could book another appointment. I had reached my limit of trying to maintain my professionalism while under such a scrutinizing set of eyes. 

I needed fresh air and food and to be out of my shop. It had been quite the day, that was for sure. As I scanned each of the items and set them aside, I gave him his total and pushed the card machine toward him, assuming he wouldn’t be paying by cash, before starting to bag things up. It was customary that I added a few sample items when someone made a larger purchase, and I wasn’t about to let Kai go without his. I rummaged through the box of samples below the counter, choosing the flavoured lube packets and condoms I thought were the best of the bunch as I answered his questions.* 

Yes, I am kicking you out, but no, not for early bedtime. *I smiled as I dropped the freebies into his bag then grabbed one of my business cards, flipping it over to the side that was blank, then grabbed a pen from the cup beside the register that was in the shape of a naked female torso.* It’s been a long day, and because I hadn’t planned on staying late, I didn’t bring dinner with me when I came in this morning. We can arrange another time for you to browse the rest of the shop, if you’d like? I’ll be better prepared then. 

*I lowered my gaze to the business card and wrote my cell number on the back before dropping that into the bag along with the receipt that shot out the top of the debit machine once he had entered his card and PIN. I held out the bag for him to take, and grinned because I had yet to acknowledge his last question. It felt like my answer would be one that carried some weight for him.* Do I like to be the boss in every aspect of my life? Not really. I mean, I am pretty type A with work, but outside of this shop, I’m less so. At least that’s what I like to think. I guess it just depends on the situation, really. 

*Nodding to myself as I finished answering his question, I reached below the counter to grab my purse and fished out my keys. He hadn’t said anything yet, and I wasn’t sure what to make of his silence. I hoped I hadn’t answered in a way he thought was boring like the nipple clamps he’d discarded earlier. Then again, I hadn’t asked him any questions, maybe he was insulted or simply didn’t have anything to say now that he had his answer. I blew out a breath and summoned up my lady balls. I could ask questions, too.* Do you want to join me for dinner? Have you eaten? It will only take a couple of minutes for me to close up. 

Kai:

-I watched Camille’s every move and as I did so, it occurred to me she was literally doing it, an in person hang-up. I refused to display my shock as she filled my bag with various accessory items either out of habit or propriety, slightly stunned. A part of me found humor in her blunt and verbal kick to the curb as it reminded me of my past love, and the spine she possessed. I almost laughed when she said that she was indeed kicking me out, confirming what I had thought. Perhaps I had been too forward...

That thought was quickly quelled and my ego soothed as she disclosed why she was actually booting me, and a pang of upset struck me, as she clearly stayed past closing time at her own expense. I would find a way to make that up to her as I never wanted to inconvenience anyone, let alone someone I was interested in pursuing. While she wrote what I presumed was her number on the back of the business card, I weighed the idea of asking if I could take her for dinner but before I could offer, she answered the question I had forgotten I asked. A grin tilted my lips up on one side as she satisfied my curiosity about her out-of-business preferences and images flashed in my mind...images of her in ways I really shouldn’t have allowed myself to indulge in. 

As she blew out a breath and gathered her belongings, I was about to speak up but she beat me to it, and my resulting smile was full blown. I wouldn’t have cared if I had just finished a six course meal, I would have developed an appetite just so I could take her up on the offer.-

I would love to join you,on one condition...You allow me to buy? - I held up a hand in anticipation of her protest, signaling I wanted to explain.- It’s the least I can do after I was the one who delayed your dinner. You’d also be doing me a favor since I’m just getting acquainted with the area. Aside from those things, if I’m being upfront, I cannot express how much I want to get to know you better, and that is after a mere thirty minutes in your company.

-I hoped she wouldn’t change her mind after my emboldened statement, but something told me Camille wouldn’t have asked in the first place if she was at all hesitant, and her independent spirit and self-assured nature only served to increase my attraction to her.-

Camille:

*I tried not to fidget as I waited for Kai’s answer on whether or not he wanted to join me for dinner. There was something unsettling about asking someone out that always left me feeling...overexposed. Sure he had indicated he was interested, but that didn’t mean he was looking to go on a date with me right away. The possibility of being rejected was still very real in my mind, and as I waited, I bit down on my bottom lip to stop myself from saying anything else. This wasn’t like our phone call earlier in the day where I could hang up on him because I was feeling out of my element and flustered. It was intimidating to put myself out like that even when I already knew he liked me. 

He saved me from too much internal debate on how to react to a rejection gracefully when he accepted and then demanded to pay. I was stunned and began to shake my head as he lifted a hand and continued on, explaining why. Was it not enough that he spent a large amount on products? It felt too much. I didn’t know what to do with that and laughed in disbelief.* 

Please don’t feel bad about keeping me. I was the one who agreed to the appointment tonight, I could have told you tomorrow when you called. *I really wanted to argue about paying for dinner since I was the one who asked him to join me, but again, there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that suggested I was better off not pushing the topic. Just like I could have said otherwise, he, too, didn't have to offer to pay. I smiled lightly and nodded my head.* 

I can play restaurant guide for you, sure. There are actually a bunch of great local places that are walking distance from here. Just give me a couple of minutes to take care of a few things. 

*I thumbed through the key ring I still had in my hand and locked up the register, grateful I had taken care of removing all the cash minus the regular float before Kai had arrived. I'd balance the day’s earnings in the morning. Next was returning to the room Kai and I had been in, flicking off the light switch and making a mental note that I’d have to return the items I’d left on the floor display back to their spots on the wall. Normally I’d pull the black curtain closed but instead left it open to help remind me when I opened for the day tomorrow. Last, I returned to behind the counter and flipped off the rest of the light switches along with the water feature wall, leaving the bubbling to continue behind me, just without its accompanying purple glow. 

When that was complete, I hooked my purse over my arm and gestured to the door. Next to it, I pressed the away function on the alarm panel and unlocked the door, opening it wide for Kai to exit first then followed behind him, sliding my key into the lock and twisting it to secure the door. He hadn’t said anything in the time I took to close up, but now that we were outside, I could leave my worry about being professional inside the shop and grinned up at him.* 

Maybe leave that in your car before we go? And then you can tell me how you feel about Thai food. *I gestured to the bag he still held and laughed at myself as I realized I had just contradicted the answer I had given him before about being bossy in all aspects of my life, but before he could call me on it, I quickly added.* Unless you’d rather take a bag of nipple clamps to dinner with us, it doesn’t bother me any. The staff there know where I work. 

*There was a gleam in Kai’s eyes that I wasn’t entirely sure was from the glow of the neon CLOSED sign that hung above my door, but as he held my gaze so intently, I got the impression he wouldn’t be bothered either. It was a look that left me feeling emboldened enough to grab his hand and lead him down the sidewalk, away from my shop, his car, and into the evening together.*

[mindmeafterdark]

@OneCheekyGal 

[mindmeafterdark]

The Call with @OneCheekyGal

Kai

-The evening with Maxwell was entirely successful and quite...penetrating. I’d not been clumsy, or fumbled, despite the scene being my first in more than a decade. The aftercare he required complimented my own aspirations, without depriving him of anything he needed. I’d swabbed with antiseptic over the punctured tracks on his inner thighs from where the Wartenberg pinwheel had left its telltale marks. I tenderly applied a numbing lubricant that would allow for him to sit on the drive home but upon wearing off, he would be reminded in full relief of the control he had relinquished. I’d helped him dress in loose clothing while delivering affirmations and instructions for him to follow in the coming days. He departed with a souvenir plug, to be used at my command. The relaxed smile on his face before I had sent him on his way was confirmation he had been satisfied by the night. 

I’d returned home lighter than I had arrived and fell into a sleep that was better than any I’d experienced in a long while. I woke with ambition and my grief had been somewhat quelled, enough that I was able to settle into myself. And so the quest for nipple clamps could begin.

An overcast sky lent itself to the idea of stepping outside, which I did, still taking cover in the available shade of my back patio on a lounger next to the pool. I began my search for a shop where I could make an appointment, and the very first to come up in my search had me immediately amused. “The Toy Box” appealed to me for how it spoke to my dual and opposing lifestyles. There was a whimsy about the business name I couldn’t deny. Perhaps I was still riding a rush from the previous evening and a decent night’s sleep. The website was slick and well done, and while I normally wouldn’t mind ordering online, I was craving a tactile experience. 

I dialed the number and put my phone on speaker, hoping I might reach someone on first try. When someone answered on the third ring, I was pleasantly surprised.- I am so pleased you answered, hopefully I will be as fortunate on my request for an appointment. I know your hours end at seven, but I’m hoping you might make an exception for something closer to or just after eight?

Cam

*Early morning was my favourite. The hours spent in the shop taking care of packaging online orders always left me feeling like I’d spent the same amount of time meditating. It was easy. I enjoyed gathering the items people wanted, often I found myself musing over the combinations chosen. Not that I cared to imagine the customer using their products...no. Gross. I much preferred to keep those kinds of images out of my mind entirely, and keep things more in the business lane of the transaction. 

But really...I did wonder why someone would purchase fuzzy handcuffs, cock suckers, and lube... all seemingly innocuous items plus five...FIVE different sized and coloured suction cup dildos. This person had outfitted themselves with a buffet of silicone dicks. My lips twitched in amusement as I arranged the items in a box and tossed in a few complimentary condoms and a sample sized bottle of toy cleaner. They’d be needing it.* Enjoy yourself… *I glanced back at the name on the packing slip and snorted* …Oliver. 

*I sealed the box with packing tape and set it next to the others I had already completed and grabbed the next order sheet when the phone rang. My eyes lifted to the clock on the wall, technically I wasn’t open yet, I could let it go to voicemail. I should let it go to voicemail. Naturally, my inner professional fought with my inner rational thinker and by the third ring, my hand had reached to pick up the phone, answering with less than my usual cheerful voice.* Thanks for calling The Toy Box, how can I help you? 

*My tone may have come off as irritated, but that was largely at myself for giving in. I knew pushing myself in this way could lead to burn out, but I was currently a one-woman operation and worse than answering a call before I opened would be having to return a call. As the voice on the other end spoke, I looked down at the next sheet, moving to grab the items. Admittedly I wasn’t giving my full attention, calls these days largely amounted to asking if we were still open and what hours I was currently keeping.* “...hours end at seven, but...” 

*Huh? I paused my multitasking to give the guy my full attention. What was he saying? He was wanting an after hours appointment? I sighed. Probably too loudly.* Yes, we close at seven. When are you wanting to arrange this for, tonight? 

Kai

-I hadn’t clued in at the initial greeting when she’d answered, but following an audible sigh, the full breadth of her voice was apparent and I was startled to attention. The hair on my arms stood on end and I immediately took the phone off of speaker and pressed it to my ear. I had to get closer, I had to hear her again. In spite of the mild irritation I noted, or maybe because of it, the familiarity was haunting. Whoever this beautiful creature was on the opposite end sounded remarkably like Cora. I needed more of her words, more of her voice, confirmation that the resemblance was something other than a parlor trick of my own mind.. My tongue was temporarily paralyzed but I managed to compose myself to avoid a longer and more awkward pause.- I’d arrange it at your convenience, since I am making a special request. Personal matters would have me there too far past seven to be considered late and I’d rather not waste your time. -I resisted the urge to ramble off more information in the interest of convincing her to say yes. I was in pursuit of her voice and I couldn’t bear a longer wait.-

Cam

*With my full attention being given, I almost laughed. This guy spoke like he was from another time. It felt out of place. This was definitely not a normal “What time are you open until?” sort of call. I was momentarily stunned into silence. How does one respond to that level of conversation? 

Setting the paper in my hand down on the shelf in front of me, I pushed my fingers through my hair and considered his request. My irritation had melted very quickly and in its place was...a slow build of curiosity. What did this guy look like if he chose his words so carefully in what should have been just a casual conversation? 

I’d been quiet too long. I cleared my throat and made a non-committal sound to let him know I was considering his request. He could sweat out my decision while I...figured out...I didn’t even know what. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this disarmed by a couple of sentences, and over the phone no less! 

I replayed what he had said in my head, beyond those peculiar words was his voice. 

It was rich and smooth, a dark roast coffee that, for me, didn’t require any sweetening, though I was certain, given the way he phrased things, he knew exactly how to wield it on others...how much cream and sugar to add to get exactly what he wanted. The more I focused on what he had said, the stronger I felt the edges of a memory that didn’t belong to me being brushed. Deja vu wasn’t something I’d ever experienced with such an undeniable potency. 

Had he been into the shop before? Had we encountered one another previously in some kind of way? I didn’t think so. 

I absolutely would have remembered hearing his voice, and there was no way I would have forgotten his particular brand of diction. The familiarity of it all washed over me in a way that made my skin prick and a single shiver run down the length of my spine with how it pleased my ears. 

Frisson. 

I’d only ever experienced the sensation before with my most favourite of songs. Never when someone spoke to me. There was no way I could overlook this degree of bodily reaction. I was confident we’d never crossed paths before despite that nagging sensation in the far reaches of my mind that we had. 

Definitely deja vu.

I needed to give him an answer, I could dwell and over analyze more later. While I had been prepared to decline an after hours appointment, I couldn’t deny my curiosity to meet the guy who spoke the way he did.* Alright. Tonight will work fine for me. But if you’re not here by 8:30, you’ll have to place your order online like everyone else.

Kai

-Confirmation this was not a delusion came on the next line of words she strung together after her elongated pause. Eyes closed, her words wrapped around me like a blanket I would never shrug off, even in summer heat. It didn't matter what she said, I silently pined for her to say more, and sought a way to extend the conversation. My heart hammered in my chest, echoing in my ears like a drum. My mind may have been embellishing, but it was more than her tone that was reminiscent of my beloved, it swelled with the influence of a personality that was also familiar. 

Achingly familiar.

I was keeping her waiting again, wasn’t I?- 

Eight-thirty will work out… brilliantly. My name is Kai. Do you need my phone number? 

- Can I have yours? I wanted to ask her that, and then dozens of follow up questions. I was internally lamenting my sensitivity to the sun - the fiery star that would keep us apart until nightfall. I was certain I wouldn’t be able to shake the experience when I failed to delay the current conversation. I would be anxious for the hours to burn away… just to hear her again. We’d barely spoken and yet, I felt intimately connected. I wanted to lay eyes on her, curious at how I might be impacted when the image held in my mind did not conform with the silk of the voice that poured through the receiver. Eyes wide open, would she still bewitch me or would the nostalgia dispense? I was keen to find out. -  

Perhaps you would like to know what I’m hoping to procure? 

-I internally winced. I was forgetting the millennium we were in and sliding into the formal speech and vocabulary more appropriate for centuries gone by. I was flummoxed, utterly thrown off balance, yet there was something underlying and deeper, a force that was grounding me.-

Cam

*Still having a few of my wits about me, my eyes narrowed at nothing in particular when he repeated the time and I had to bite my tongue to keep from correcting him. I was clear when I said I wouldn’t wait and had meant it. I snorted at the lie I was trying to tell myself. I already knew I’d wait around if he wasn’t on time, though, something about him had me feeling confident he wouldn’t be late.* 

Just your name will do for now, Kai. *A smile formed on my lips as I looked around my shop, feeling proud of how well I’d been able to keep my shelves stocked amid delivery delays. Even with the increased sales, people weren’t panic buying sex toys the way they had toilet paper. The thought made me laugh as I answered his second question.* No, you don’t need to tell me what you’re looking for, we carry a pretty decent selection, and anything you want that isn’t in stock can be brought in. If that’s the case, then I’ll need your number at that point to let you know when it arrives. 

*I couldn’t believe the rollercoaster ride this conversation had taken me on. From annoyed to stunned silent and straight into laughing. He probably thought I was bipolar or something at the rate my reactions were whiplashing. I needed to get control of myself again. I was a damn professional and was NOT going to allow this guy with his coffee voice to turn me into any more of a mental mess than I already was. At least not while I was still talking to him. Shaking my head in a futile attempt to get my thoughts back on track, I grabbed the order form I had set down and brought it back to the counter with the others, already knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus anymore to fill it correctly when this conversation ended.* Do you have any more questions I can answer before your appointment? 

Kai

-Her voice had held me captive, but her laugh at some secret musing had shot through me like a speeding bullet, ricocheting in my mind. It was as if I heard it only yesterday instead of a near century ago. This wasn't a question of recall. This was a feeling...a ripple through my veins, a vibration in my bones, a stuttered beat of my heart. It defied explanation but I didn't need or even want one. I only wanted to stop time or slow it down. Of course, to make things perfectly complex, I also wanted it to tick by faster.-

Just one question. -rounded to the nearest thousand- Your name? 

-I waited for her answer. Patiently. Impatiently. I wondered how hearing it for the first time might color the revelry I was swimming in.- 

Cam

*Just one more question. Right. I could handle that without any sort of further melt down. But instead of just giving him my name, like a normal, functioning human, I laughed again fully prepared to tell him I had already said it. Of course, as I recalled our conversation searching for when I had given it to him only to realize I hadn’t said it, my laughter died rather quickly. Normally when I answered a call, I’d introduce myself by name, but in my irritated state I had left it out.* Oh. *I laughed again in flustered embarrassment and dropped my forehead into my waiting palm.* 

My name? Here I was preparing myself for...nevermind. It’s Camille. Sorry, I didn’t say it when I answered your call. I was...actually...it doesn’t matter what I was. Clearly I need to find myself another coffee. 

*I pulled my hand down my face from my forehead to cover my mouth as I muttered a soft “Ohmygod”, and stopped myself from spewing other things out all haphazard like. He did not need to know I had compared his voice to coffee. Jesus. I had to shut up and avoid making a fool of myself any more than it already felt like I had.* 

Kai

-I didn't care what elicited her laugh, I would pay handsomely to hear it on repeat, even at my own expense. I'd go broke to be the one to draw it out of her. The experience was turning into an exercise in contrasts, the latest being how it was equally sobering and surreal. I was curious about what it was she thought I was going to ask, but didn't want to fluster her further. We had the evening to delve into more, should I be so lucky. When I finally earned her name, I took in a breath, noting the first initial.-

Camille... -I repeated it back to her, letting it drip off my tongue like honey: slow, thick, sweet, and musky. The name did nothing to break the allure of her voice, and, in fact, roused my curiosity even further. I wanted to say it over and over again, but resisted to avoid the label of a psychopath. I couldn’t risk the sudden cancellation of my just secured appointment. 

Appointment. So sterile. This was more. It would be a bridge too far to label it a date, but my interest had shifted from nipple clamps to something more personal. I had to meet her. See her. How I would suffer these hours in between the now and then.- 

I look forward to seeing you no later than eight-thirty, Camille. 

- Twice was hopefully not too much, even if for me it was hardly enough. I was so lost on her name, laugh and voice I was forgetting politeness.- 

And, thank you for making the exception…

Cam

*Yep. I had been right. He knew exactly how to use his coffee voice on others as evidenced by the repeat shiver that traveled my spine when he said my name. It was entirely unfair to be affected like this. I did not turn into a hormonal teenage girl at the sound of my name being spoken, and yet...here I was... doing just that.  

Good lord. 

This conversation needed to end before I lost my damn mind any further, what with this guy...Kai...going and saying things like he was looking forward to seeing me. Like he was coming to the shop just to see me and not to make a purchase. My insides needed to NOT do that dumb girl flip floppy thing at that thought, he was just being polite. He was being formal. Politely formal. Yes. Because of course I’d be here when he arrived, who else would be here?! 

I really should consider hiring someone again. Maybe I could do that today. And have them be here to help Kai when he arrived. I scoffed at my mental ridiculousness. I was overreacting. I never overreacted. Taking a quick breath, I nodded as he thanked me. Okay...that I could respond to that without showing how much of a mess he had turned me into.* You’re welcome. See you then. 

*I hung up. I didn’t even trust myself to say goodbye like a professional should. I was having an identity crisis that I had to fix before his appointment.* 

What the hell, Cam?! What is wrong with you? OHMYGOD. You don’t get flustered. By anyone. Ever. 

*I scrubbed my hands over my face then looked at the clock. I still had time to go down the street to get a coffee before the shop was supposed to open. Yes. That’s what I’d do. More coffee would put my loose screws back in place. Then I’d be able to focus on work like I always did.* 

Kai

-It may have made me less than a gentleman how I enjoyed the suspense that hung between us as she lost herself in thought on the other side of the line. Was she choosing her words carefully? Was she taken by my voice as I had been intoxicated by hers? Perhaps she was considering giving me her number? 

Wishful thoughts, Mikhail. 

I could not help the speculation. Her voice -Camille’s voice- had been a key that slid into a lock hidden inside of me. It soothed my ailments rather than igniting the longing I’d endured for a near century. I could hardly imagine the effect of personal sentiments paired with the sound of her voice in lieu of these casual formalities. 

Her laugh had lifted me and instilled a hope I had been lacking.

Her name begged to be repeated on a loop for the way it felt on my tongue.

“... See you then.” Click.

The unceremonious end of the call did nothing to dilute what had just transpired. I did, however, have to restrain myself to avoid immediately dialing her again just to say goodbye. That would surely earn me cancellation of the appointment under the “no psychos” clause.  I had to regain my bearings before the evening arrived. I was rife with curiosity, raised by what had transpired in less than a ten minute exchange. 

I imagined she had already moved on, to another caller or fulfillment of online orders or maybe inventory. While I would find my composure, I knew without question she would not leave my mind for the rest of the day.- See you then… Camille.

[mindmeafterdark]

Flight

-My flight to California was both pensive and productive. I’d had most affairs in order prior to departure, but loose ends needed sewing and it passed the time well. I had, a few years prior, purchased a residence that suited my unique needs without requiring major alterations. The outdoor spaces provided coverage ample enough that should I ever entertain, I could do so in broad daylight without raising suspicions or exposing my vulnerability. There was a pool to combat the heat of the region and a permeation of salt in the air courtesy of the ocean breeze. I fashioned myself more suited to the east, but the hedonistic atmosphere and freedom of expression Venice Beach allowed for had made it the ultimate victor.

A stone’s throw away from the residence was a private suite, meant to host submissives whose tastes aligned with my own.  I was exceedingly selective, a perfectionist when it came to the ability to satisfy the submissive’s needs while simultaneously answering to my need for control  lost at the latching talons of grief. It was vital to me, and an unshakeable mindset, that the subs never be selfishly used. This was the primary reason I was careful not to allow submissives the opportunity to form an emotional bond I could not return, and therefore kept those seeking monogamous arrangements out of any recurring rotation. 

As the plane made its final descent, a vaguely familiar and titillating sensation settled into my bones. My exhales, heavy with grief, would soon be soothed by my darker amusements and my less-than-family-friendly expertise. It had been several years since I had engaged in any D/s activity but I could already feel myself slipping back into the mindset with ease. 

Upon arrival, my newly acquired Tesla Model X was waiting, outfitted exactly as requested. To the outside world, my tastes would likely appear overly indulgent and spoiled. I was, however, living proof that money could not afford you happiness, nor could it fill in a cavernous void left by the loss of a soul mate. It was easy to part with and I’d suffer a penniless existence if it meant I could share it with the one whose soul was meant for my own. 

I’d traveled light, with enough clothes to fill a suitcase, my laptop and my keepsakes. First, I made the drive to my place. I unpacked, and allowed enough of a window to take a long shower. When I closed my eyes, I saw her in beautiful relief. An invisible fist wrapped around my heart with an unrelenting squeeze as my too-perfect recall had her voice in my ears, her witty snark on my mind,  and the taste of her lips on my tongue. I knew it would never completely resolve, nor could I detach from it wholly; this was something I would carry for eternity. I shut off the water, the drip of the tap echoing off the marble in the otherwise quiet surroundings. I sloughed off the excess moisture from my skin before wrapping the towel around my waist and walking back into the bedroom, steam trailing behind me. 

I had a seat on the end of my bed and unzipped the laptop case at my side, removing the box and its precious containment, holding it with both hands, as my elbows rested on my knees. I knew I could lose hours focusing on its contents, which was the very reason I had done what I had done. 

Prior to my departure, I had arranged a session with an eager submissive. We had used the advances of modern technology to work out certain details and establish a rapport. Current, worldwide circumstances had left him in dire straits, desperate, a state I could relate to. 

Getting to my feet, I deposited the box in the top drawer of the nightstand without allowing myself to get drawn by its lure. I dressed in black jeans, and a t-shirt, which I’d discard upon arrival at the suite. 

The interior quiet of the Tesla provided the perfect blank canvas for my review of the discussions with Maxwell. To the outside world he was a polished, picture-perfect success story who had made mommy and daddy so proud, and not without merit. He rose to the occasion in a life that had prepared him for college since the time he had been trained to use the loo. He had taken to his studies, excelled, been accepted to every Ivy League school for which he applied. He was athletic, and artistically and musically gifted. With dual concentrations, he majored in law at Harvard and aced the bar exam without breaking a sweat. At the young age of twenty-five, he ascended to the rank of partner for an affluent Los Angeles firm. The final box was checked for his adoring mother when he married a short year later. He married for love, but his young bride thrived in the role of demurring wife, which left him the driver in work, the decision maker at home and very much in control of every aspect of his waking life.

What the rest of the world did not see of Maxwell, he had divulged to me, undressing his exterior image in glorious detail - our initial exchange in trust.  Maxwell was bisexual, but not openly, with the exception of his wife, who wholeheartedly accepted this cloistered part of him. In contrast, the rest of his kin and world at large remained ignorant. 

As his stature grew, his desire to be at the mercy of another manifested with an urgency he couldn’t ignore. Experimentation originally led him to a Dominatrix, but he found reality diluted his fantasy and lacked the heavy-handed approach he craved.  Maxwell was thirsty for complete and total submission, the unexpected and furthermore, the satiation of a long-held urge to hand over control to another man…Though he’d not denied himself, his history with men had been limited to that of a top. 

Our situations were entirely and mutually beneficial. 

I pulled into the garage under the studio, using an internal stairway to access the room. It was not the largest area to work with, but creative use of the space would afford me what was needed, that and a blindfold -for Maxwell- upon arrival. 

I toured the space to get reacquainted, taking inventory and reminding myself how it had been outfitted. I was quick to notice I was lacking a few of my favorite instruments. I made a mental note to procure the missing items as a priority, especially the nipple clamps. They would be missed during this session. I was exceedingly picky about quality and in my choices. There hadn’t been any clamps to my liking when I’d perused the online shops I normally preferred. I was on sabbatical from the lifestyle for such a long period, I hadn’t had any on hand, either. 

I refocused on the evening at my command. Shedding my shirt, I flirted with the idea of a corset for Maxwell and even myself, but decided against it. He needed to feel the hair on my chest when I pinned him, confirmation of masculinity absent any blurring of the lines.  Maxwell did not want to be eased in, I knew without his direct verbalization of the fact. Disclosing his desires in a forthright way would have muddied the relationship we were establishing. It was my responsibility to glean this understanding in order to deliver what he was coming for, I would not deny him a full-throttled introduction. That was not to say there would not be deprivation of any variety involved. He would have to earn my cock and that would take more than an introductory session. In fact, he’d not get the reward of vision during this experience either. 

I was crafting the evening as I set out the items I intended to employ; a couple plugs of different girth, three varieties of lubricant, leather cuffs, cupped blindfold, Wartenberg pinwheel and a dragon tail whip.  Other instruments could come into play as inspiration manifested.

With a quick check of the time, I powered down my phone and took a liberal shot of absinthe from a flask that had traveled with me. I wanted Maxwell to feel the burn of the liquor on my whisper. 

He knocked on time...to the second, just as ordered. I spoke without opening the door.-

Turn around, Maxwell. Close your eyes. Keep them closed. Do you understand?  

-His answer was prompt and without reservation. “Yes, Sir.” He turned. To demonstrate I trusted he had acted on my order, I opened the door, fastening the blindfold over his eyes before guiding him inside, shutting us in and securing the padlock. I stepped back from him, instantly noticing how he sagged at my sudden absence. I let him sweat it out, observing how his posture was begging for my return, watching how he fought against the internal need he couldn’t suppress. 

It was only when I knew his will power was fleeting that I strode toward him, closing in and finally pinning him between my body and the door. With a hard grip on his hair, I turned one side of his face toward me, lips hovering at the shell of his ear. Releasing the hold to work my hands up his sides, raking blunt nails up his ribs with purposeful pressure, while my voice dropped to a dark and lusty octave.-  Your clothes are in the way. Take them off. Immediately.

-I slammed the side of my fist against the door as an exclamation point and released him again. I didn’t miss how he startled at the sound. He was already panting slightly, letting go, and opening himself up to everything he knew I could offer him. Good. Exhilaration flooded my veins as my natural abilities rushed in, and Maxwell was about to be the sole beneficiary of their imminent arrival.-

[mindmeafterdark]

The Leaving

Kai

-The pain, I could taste its bitterness. I could smell its bouquet. I could feel it permeating my every sense. My bones ached as grief became fresh again and I knew my options for relief were limited. The longer I remained amid the anguish of others, the more I absorbed, my bones sponging it up as if they were porous. I wished I could get in touch with Mia, though not at risk of her discovery. She had always been a mooring for me. For as much I was overprotective, she had always been equally concerned for me. In some manners, it felt as though my inability to overcome this well of emotions was failing my sister even in her absence. But … to have loved and lost what I’d had in Cora overpowered every instinct I wished to contain. 

I needed control. I needed blood. Those things had to be acquired with fresh surroundings, where the ghosts of the deceased weren’t haunting the living left behind. I cringed in guilt at the callous and dismissive way the thought crossed my mind. It was an endorsement of my impulse to leave. Over a century of familiarity had brought that unspoken connection to maturity with Mia. When she had left for her own protection it had hit me with brute strength just how much I struggled with the thought of separating. It made us more vulnerable, as we remained the last of our family line and it would be a trophy on the shelve of our purist enemies to extinguish one or both of us. Other families remained, sparse like our own, but nevertheless bound by our progressive ancestry.  Our parents had bred us with hearts for inclusiveness, and it was something woven into my very nature, Mia’s as well.  It was twisted and sick to see it play out on the main stage of the world, to witness the prejudice of humanity and how far its reaches spanned.

That was why dividing had felt dangerous. It had been us against the world, and Mia and I had survived as a unit.  Now it was my time to depart… my heart would not be salvaged if I didn’t recover from the freshly reopened wounds. I was crawling out of my bones and sick with a thirst I couldn’t quench, the inherited pain amplifying my own.

As I planned my own departure, I was reminded of Mia’s stubbornness when she had defended her own. Her headstrong ways were the very essence of our mother, her backbone from our father. Cora had also been whip smart and knew how to dig her heels in, it had been a magnet for my affections. 

Leaving the last place we shared together, myself and Mia, was not easy, and apprehension remained. I knew she could find me, neither of us were anything short of resourceful,  and I knew my options were few. I was intent on working out my grief and frustrations in a way that I’d found nearly a century ago. An anguished sigh left on a painful exhale when I realized it had been a true century since I’d first met my Cora.  And now… in a cruel twist, I had to let her go again.-

[mindmeafterdark]

@OneCheekyGal New Year's Eve....

[mindmeafterdark]

Rewind

-Grief was a living, breathing, unrivaled monster and simultaneously an unfathomable void and it had arrived at the compound a two-headed beast. 

The loss of first @AToxicMind's father followed in quick succession by her eldest son and @WanderingSanity’s husband had ushered into the home a pain so palpable you could not escape its physical manifestations. With the gruesomeness of a jagged knife, the grief had caused a tear in the atmosphere, the emptiness bleeding out into the surroundings and every one of us in them. 

The ripple effects had only just begun. I gave @AToxicMind a wide berth as she dealt with the unimaginable, and silently slipped in to care for @WanderingSanity’s little ones only when sleep finally took her. And then there was Kane, @ToThrowStones, who’d been one of the children I’d been hired to watch over, thrust rapidly into a greater age, a biological response to unwittingly ascending to the position of “man of the house.”

Cracks in my own veneer begin to materialize. I held the threat at bay, reminding myself with a stern internal scolding that this grief was not mine to claim. But that was the thing about grief, like love it abided by no rules. 

It was on an evening of eerie stillness, when I heard her wail… @WanderingSanity’s outward bellow of grief was all too recognizable and sent a sheering chill up my spine, welling the pain I’d endured at the loss of my own love, my Cora. 

The agony was fresh as I was thrust back into my personal wreckage. I was ravaged by grief as if it had just transpired rather than nearly a century ago. There was no escaping it, though it didn’t stop me from running. My legs were moving, I could feel the burn in my lungs yet I felt mired even as the scenery changed from country to city. I was out of my mind, carefully crafted decades of composure and recovery trashed as I relived suffering the premature end of my treasured beloved anew and in vivid relief. 

No matter my attempt to reel in my senses, I was plagued by this revived pain, cursing the excellent memory that had otherwise served me well. 

I was angry with myself for failing to maintain composure so I could support the family that had become so dear to me, but I knew myself well enough that I was aware my recovery would not come so easy. 

I felt especially bad about Penny, who’s wailing would forever cement us as comrades in loss. I understood, thought I’d never impart it on her. Nobody reacted exactly the same, but silently I recognized her pain. 

I knew it wasn’t wise, but as if removed and watching myself from the outside, I shut myself away in my room and immediately regarded the box I could never put away, but probably should have. I would never let her go, not in my heart and not in any way I still held her. Opening the simple wooden box, inside was her sewing needle, a lock of her hair held by a clip she was most fond of and another small box, which I took in hand. My knees weakened before I opened it, and I took shelter at the edge of my bed as I stared down at the ring that never properly adorned her finger.  My shoulders sagged as I let the tide of despair wash over me. I was bitter for Bells’ loss and wanted to curse the fortunes that took her father and son in the equivalent of a breath, the latter of which betrayed the natural order of things. I wanted to scorch the earth for what Penny would endure… the loss of true love and a hope that would carry her into a future that no longer existed. 

I was bound to my pain, and I wished that upon no other soul. I wasn’t fit to be around children in the state I was in, and my complete lack of control was leading me towards my more depraved desires. I needed back to the place where I could behold the memories that made me lighter than air… the memory of Cora’s cheeky attitude, the vision of the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the recollection of her smile that could light up a room. 

I wanted it back… because I couldn’t have her back… and to get there I would need to get gone and time was of the essence.-

[mindmeafterdark]

[mindmeafterdark]

-grunts low @OneCheekyGal- You understand the art of sexuality.

[mindmeafterdark]

@OneCheekyGal Happy Birthday, Kireina.

I love you to the marrow of my bones.

-holds you close to me, not giving an inch but to breathe-

And now... birthday French toast with cherry topping.

[mindmeafterdark]

@OneCheekyGal

“You and I know each other in our bones,”

— Kurt Vonnegut, from a letter to Nanny Vonnegut wr. c. January 1973

[mindmeafterdark]

Hereafter

-Have you ever considered the difficulty of outrunning the sun?

Vampire of my lineage could withstand the rays of dusk and dawn and even cloud covered days but full sunlight was a death sentence. One could imagine how this was discovered.

After Cora's death I found myself out just prior to sunrise every day for a countless number thereafter. I'd wait until the beams would start to singe my brows and then...then I would run. I wasn't so much trying to escape it as I was letting it chase me.

This recklessness is what I thought I needed, this dangerous game of cat and mouse with a ball of fire.

But it turned out to be the exact opposite. 

What I yearned for was to stop the spin of things I couldn't fix or alter.

Control.

That was what I needed and what I found in a way that was least expected.

My darling Mia, though I tried to keep it close to the chest, knew I suffered gravely at the loss of Cora. She knew it steeped my helplessness in the waters of despair. She knew it was the causation of bitter memories resurfacing. The difference with Cora was that my heart had been hers in a way it had never belonged to anyone and she had expired due to something that could not have been stopped, not by anything within my power.

I purchased the shop she had worked so diligently to make hers, stopping on occasion to run my hands through the garments she had tailored so exquisitely, pricking the tip of my finger on the needle she’d last handled - anything I could to feel closer to the love I’d lost.

Had I been left on my own, I’m quite sure I would have found myself drowned and in some figment of actual reality.  Mia would not allow that. Though she did not press on me attending the usual litany of parties, it was on a night in late November she invited me to one of a different ilk. Expectation was dismissed when she suggested I dress in all black attire and noted that likely wouldn’t want to see what she wore under her own overcoat. Her makeup was darker, heavy across her lids and her demeanor serious as we made our way to this event.

It was fashioned at its entry much in the way of a Speakeasy: nondescript and password required. On the other side of the door, however, the atmosphere was immediately and noticeably something different. The lighting was nearly nil, inky darkness broken only by a scarce amount of candles turned low. The scent in the air was a potent mix of beeswax, liquor and a hint of sex, my curiosity was promptly engaged. Mia pressed a kiss to my cheek and slipped away. We would meet just before sunrise and take our leave.

I was quick to discover that this was not at all about revelry of the standard kind of the age. The alcohol was limited to one serving each hour, the costs adjusted so that they still might turn a profit, I assumed, and the maximum set for quite a different reason… control.

With vodka in hand, I begin my mission to uncover what I had stepped into.  Women were dressed in corsets and stockings - only corsets and stockings - and the men were relieved of much external clothing as well. There were various states of bondage and bodies configured like puzzles.

Where had Mia taken me and what exactly had brought her here? I growled at the thought before shaking it away. I could not entertain theories about my sister in this atmosphere.

I wandered and waited for something to appeal to my attention span and the scene that revealed itself as earning the right caught me off guard. Two men, one standing and gripping what looked to be a riding crop, the other without clothing, kneeled before him. I watched as the worn leather of the crop circled the naked male’s lips, apparently a silent signal for him to open his mouth wide. Watching this excited me, my pulse quickened, my canines throbbed and as the man in the dominant position clutched the back of the other’s head and pressed his hard length between his lips, I was seduced by the image.

I wanted to take the place of the man who held the control.

I swallowed my drink, unaware of how much of the first hour had passed, my eyes affixed and unwilling to stray before the culmination of the scene had been realized.

I knew the moment the man caught me watching, though he waited until he had climaxed to crook his finger my way. I raised my own hand, shaking my finger slowly back at him, indicating I wasn’t wishing to be under his charge. He then told the one still on his knees not to move before coming over, and slammed me into the frame of the door with his body, pressing his chest to mine. Though my reflexes were well intact, I didn’t stop him when he kissed me, his stubble rough and welcomed against my mouth, his breath laced with bourbon.

Before he could escape with the victory of his aggression, I disarmed him and flipped our positions, dragging the crop up his leg, a devilish gleam in my narrowed eyes as I met his. I nipped at his earlobe before delivering a warning in his ear, making it plain that nobody controlled me. I was amazed with the quickness I took up this manner, as if I was not a novice but experienced.

Everything engaged in that moment; what I was seeking, what I needed to survive my heartache, and certain other predispositions. It tasted of my history, the one which I shared with Illarian and was colored by the more recent shades of grief.

In theory, though not practice, that was the night I first became what is modernly known as a Dom.

My heart had been sealed off and for decades I was satisfied by my dominant dalliances with male and female submissives alike, though the women were much less in number and could bear no resemblance to my love. There was never an expectation of a traditional relationship, which suited me as my heart would forever belong to another. Nothing had ever compared to the feelings captured during the short time I shared with my Cora.

It was some time in the late nineties the lifestyle I had so chosen began to tarnish of its allure. Though there were many who understood the roots of traditional BDSM, so many, too many participated in the manner one would with a fad. It was no longer so fulfilling, though I didn’t abandon it all together, I became much more picky and process of meeting someone adherent to my old school ways was much more arduous.

It was around this time of metamorphosis I found myself making a hairpin turn.

I felt ancient in my bones, my soul feeling the weight of times gone by, my seriousness set. I wanted to grow… I desired evolution within my own character, how static I had become.

Through a course of combing the classifieds and participating in in depth personality assessments via quizzes, you can imagine my laugh when it was indicated I would work well with children. At first I rejected the notion. At first I blamed the tests I had chosen. But again and again, no matter the creator or specialty of the pyscho-whatever responsible for the content, the results pointed like a compass in the same direction.

This was how I found myself in the surprising career of a nanny, or as more current colloquialisms have produced, a manny.  Before I could embrace the new direction, I went through the process of altering my identity, as was called for every few decades as not to raise suspicions. This is when I changed from Mikhail to Kai, dropping the name rooted in Russian history to something more fitting of the times with a few dismissed letters.

The first of the families who employed me had been of a vampir bloodline. Through word of mouth I had discovered their needs and it made it easier having to provide no explanation for my limitations.

Rearing children and caring for them was a warmer control than my other variety, and the separation from that lifestyle was refreshing. I learned from the children, and lived vicariously through their growth and wide eyes. They brought a lightness to my spirit I hadn’t had since… Cora. Though there was danger in the door this opened, time enough had passed that it transpired without my permission.

Their challenge and defiance often made me laugh, but was never to be taken lightly. Children were for certain headstrong more often than not, and every season of change they went through forced me to expand and adapt. For as much as I may have taught them, they in return educated me.  

In quiet times, when I let my mind seep into the past, I’d take out the ring, the one that would have sat so perfectly on Cora’s dainty left ring finger.  I imagined the life we never got to share… the children we would have had, how I would have attended her every whim and desire with a resolute passion.

Though the imagined memories were as fractured as the reflections of light the ruby ring cast on the walls, there was an undeniable beauty in allowing myself the experience. Though I’d never be able to touch them, there was still a way to behold them.

[mindmeafterdark]

@OneCheekyGal

Blue Lake Columbines, Colorado | by larsleberphotography

[mindmeafterdark]

Renaissance

The 1920s quite literally roared to life, and even for myself, it was difficult to avoid the allure. Consumerism was new, women took their independence by the reins, everyone had radios, movie theatres and dance halls were the thing, not to mention the speakeasies which satisfied the desire to celebrate the times with intoxicants otherwise prohibited. Chicago was one of the pulse points of this new age, perhaps the most infamous of all.

Mia, ever coming into her own, absolutely thrived. She was sought after by suitor after suitor, but was having far too much fun to relent to any kind of commitment. She could have been a starlet, had it not been for our need for discretion. Though I wasn’t prone to dance, I was never far away from the parties; Mia was all that was left of my blood and I would not suffer her loss, or lose myself altogether.

In a raid on one of the joints we frequented, the suit I was dressed in was torn at the sleeve during the getaway. While beads scattered noisily across the floor, and drinks spilled left and right, my only concern was to reach Mia and have us both vacate without delay. When I caught up with her, I could only laugh at her admonishing about my torn jacket and how that there was no time for it to be repaired before the next eve, when we were due to attend a soiree at which she was serenading the party goers.

Less than twenty-four hours later, I would be applauding that abrupt tattering of my best jacket.

Sandwiched between an appliance store and a bakery, the small shop would have escaped notice were it not illuminated. I could see a single dress on display in the window and chanced that its occupant may own the needle and thread that could have me on time for Mia's big night.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed my assumption was correct, but despite the lights that welcomed passers by, when I tried the doorknob, I found it locked. In my desperation to not disappoint my sister, I knocked.

In a moment, my very reason shifted. A petite, dark-bobbed young woman came into my view, her cherry-red lips and attire very much indicating that she was on her way out to some fete. It was her eyes, though, and the cautious smile that left me in a state of buoyancy and hooked me in a way I had never been hooked. For the first time in an age, my normal reserve rippled, and I held up my arm once she could see through the glass. She mouthed through the door that she was closed, but I gave her my best pleading via eye contact. Her perfume wafted through the door when she relented and opened it to me.

I introduced myself as “Mick” a nickname that had come with the times and at Mia’s bestowing, and one that kept my Russian heritage under mask during the Red Scare. My accent had long before been dispensed with, a part of my adaptation that had occurred naturally.

I was not prone to begging but with her I did, and as she fussed with her hair and tucked it behind her ear, I knew she was considering. I would learn this was one of her quirks because that would be the first night of many with Miss Cora Talbot.

When she relented, I set foot inside her shop, immediately impressed despite its size. She had clearly thrown herself into her passion, turning it to enterprise and this only drew me in more. The conversation came easy as she took the needle and thread and repaired the jagged tear with such skill, it would be invisible to anyone who didn’t know it was there. I paid her three times what she asked for, and mistakenly asked if I could see her again straight after. She mistook it as an offer for...other services and did not hesitate to throw her pin cushion straight at me.

Despite my profuse apologies, she lifted her chin and tossed me straight out. She kept the money, and I couldn’t help the smirk that adorned my face as I watched her tuck it into her dress.

It would be weeks before I saw her again, though every party I attended, every speakeasy I visited, had me scanning the crowds for those red lips and shiny, dark hair. Finally, I spotted her. On a night Mia was distracting herself with a gentleman companion to my dismay, there she was, and my heart pounded at the very view of the much needed distraction who was so much more than a distraction.

I had never courted, instead my pursuits had been fleeting and to fulfill carnal desires and blood needs, and perhaps that is why my approach was again uncouth. I’d come up behind her when she was fetching herself a refreshment, asking if I could buy it for her. I caught the way she tucked her hair behind her ear again, before she turned to see who had made the offer.

A blush rose to her cheeks, but I was quite sure the color was due to rage and not anything otherwise. She lifted that chin of hers and walked away with a very pronounced huff and without a word.

It was on our third meeting, a tortuous string of several weeks later that I was finally able to dismantle the offense she had taken to my initial overture. I had seen her dancing, peeks of garter and stockings on reveal as she shimmied and moved effortlessly to the jazz band playing at the hall. Then she saw me.

Her posture changed as she made her way to my table and promptly asked if I was going to continue to be her shadow. Her tone was feisty, which only gave rise to further attraction.

It was my own answer that surprised her, when I pointed to where she was standing, Larisa within the same line of sight, letting a bold lie fall off my tongue by telling her I was watching the girl in blue.

Dejection flashed in her expression in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time frame, but I didn’t miss it, nor did I miss the way she tucked her hair behind her ear as she no doubt sought a snappy retort.

I didn’t wait long enough for her to find that answer before revealing the girl was my sister, pulling out the chair, gesturing for her to sit.

She finally accepted my offer.

I didn’t plummet into love so much as ascended to it; there was only up with Cora. I had never experienced passion or challenge, not in the way she delivered it. She took me out of myself, burned away the fog of my past, and thrust me towards the future with all its possibility.

I wasn’t sure how it would work out, how I would explain what I was, how our lives would weave together in the long term, but those worries were pushed aside in favor of impulse. I purchased a ring, engraved it with her initials and arrived at her flat, waiting for her at the street, like she preferred. The proposal was not to be.

Fear struck me in a way it hadn’t before. There was no reason for her to stand me up, and my gut churned, knowing something was off. I scaled those stairs with a quickness, pounded on her door savagely and then I listened. I couldn’t hear her voice but was met with the sound of a soft cough. I couldn’t stop myself from picking the lock and entering inside.

The smell of illness stung in my nostrils before I found her, my lively, brash Cora, weakened and under the blankets in her bed. I was at her side in a blur, and it broke me to see one of my pocket handkerchiefs in the clutch of her hand, a bright spray of blood stood in contrast to the stark white of the silk.

Ever the comedienne, she quipped about how she wasn’t ready and to give a girl a few minutes before busting through her door.  I pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, my heart lurching in my chest because it felt wrong to take over a gesture that belonged to her.

Tuberculosis. I knew without calling the doctor and so did she.

She begged me to leave as not to become exposed, but I refused, asserting my own stubbornness and vowing to care for her. She of course had no way of knowing I couldn't contract the disease and how I wished I could take her place. I couldn’t stop it… I couldn’t save her. I had… no control.

As she weakened over the coming weeks, I held her in my arms, read to her, did all in my power to offer what comfort I could all while feeling powerless and losing myself to the fog she had helped me out of. The reality of losing her was suffocating.

She took her final breath in my arms, and figuratively I took my own.

This descent into grief was different from all others, from it there would be no recovery. I would not ever be the same.

[mindmeafterdark]

@OneCheekyGal

Photo by Neha Deshmukh on Unsplash