We shared a chance encounter.  It was lunch time.  I sought a place to sit and spotted an empty chair at her table.  She stood behind it and leaned forward.  Her long sculpted dark brown legs extended down from a green and blue plaid mini-skirt.  I couldn’t see her face and I didn’t need to.  Her laughter cut through the din of busy diners like an ancient siren and beckoned me forward. She sensed my presence and turned to greet me.  Her radiant eyes stopped my advance to the point where I almost dropped my tray of food.  Time stopped.  Background noise dissipated.  We took center stage in a dance scene from West Side Story.  The two of us were surrounded by a blur of swirling colors and white noise.  She gestured to the unoccupied seat. “Yes, you may sit here, and in return, you’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you.”  

Leather vs. Lace

  Yes, I sat next to her and, yes, I learned to be her good boy.  She welcomed me to the world of BDSM.  In a very short period of time I reveled at being her eager student.  After all, she was a great teacher.  I soon learned that I knew nothing about BDSM other than shallow stereotype.  Where I anticipated leather, she offered lace. She was a savvy sexual guide and healer.  Lord knows I needed both after two broken marriages.  We met regularly.  In that short period of time she somehow managed to inventory my deepest fears and set me on a path to leave them behind. Expectations and rules were clear.  She showed me exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it.  When I performed to her expectations, I was rewarded.  If I didn’t I was punished.  And when I exceeded those expectations, I was feted with tenderness.  I loved the pleasure I found when I pleased her and embraced the punishment—it was intense, cathartic and finite. Her favorite activity was role playing.  She was my queen, I was her guard and servant.   I was her client; she was my therapist.  Ultimately, she was my dominatrix and I was her submissive. We were a match made in a hidden space far from our daily lives defined by honesty and it worked. At the end of the day, we put the clothespins, cuffs and other implements away, she slept safe and protected in my arms.  With much joy, I felt renewed.  

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