“Love is not consolation, it is light.” Simone Weil
Alex strained against his leather cuffs that stretched his arms to what felt like the farthest ends of the room. He had never been in this room, but then again, Mistress Victoria never used the same room twice. And it would matter very little in the end; Alex knew he would be shortly blindfolded before the real play began.
“Are you ready my pet?” she asked in a low seductive voice, pushing his chin up with a glossy black glove that went past her elbow to look deep into his gray eyes.
Alex’s mind wandered, as it was likely to do these days. Oh, how long ago that voice had turned Alex in to a salivating, depraved boy. And he had been. Mistress Victoria had bestowed a gift onto him that he would never forget: at twenty, not only had she given him his first kiss, she had taken him to bed that same night. The seductress that was natural for Mistress Victoria offered to fill the void that Alex assumed was his need for love. It wasn’t hard to love Victoria: she was gorgeous in the classic way. High breasts that looked gorgeous when thrust upwards in a corset and such a deep vision of cleavage that was nearly hypnotizing to a man who had so very little exposure to women. And lock after lock of long wavy hair.
A smack on his broad, muscled back from Mistress Victoria’s cat-o-nine tails snapped him from his stupor.
“You take too long my pet.” Alex cocked an eyebrow in his mind, forcing himself to squash his emotions.
“I am sorry Mistress. I am ready Mistress.”
“You have been distracted my pet. I will not tolerate it tonight. In fact, I will assure you that you will not at all be distracted if you do not perform up to my standards.” Alex’s eyes followed the direction that she pointed to, a small rainfall of sparks in the darkest corner.
“Look at me.” She grabbed his cleanly shaved face with her gloved hands. Alex reassured her control by looking her in the eyes, but he was very preoccupied with the worries of the possibility of getting electrocuted.
‘I did not agree to this.” Alex twisted in his leather restraints.
“Good.” She smiled. “I want you to enjoy tonight.”
Alex looked over again at Victoria, feeling his safe word hanging on his lips and remembering the words they agreed upon. She had challenged him in moments that he thought he could not possibly go on. But he had been naturally afraid, however, his curiosity had driven him to explore what it was like to completely surrender to know he was safe with her choices for him. Though the experiences were gratifying, they had never quiet been as damaging as the potential of being electrocuted. Especially while blindfolded.
‘Why do we never talk about our sessions?’ Alex wondered, trying to quell the fear in him. He reflected back to a year ago when she had done something similar and introduced him to branding. Explaining the burn scar to the doctors on the base had been troubling at best a few weeks later. Thankfully, Alex had escaped any possible infection. He knew better than to complain about something that could not have been undone, but it did bother him.
John Graeme Alexander White, V, would have done anything to put a billion miles between himself and his spotted past. Victoria helped him with that fact. His father, John Graeme Alexander White, IV, had beaten him senseless as a boy, nearly broken him as a teen. They were poor, so poor at times it appeared that dirt was richer than they were. The richest thing they owned was their name, a long legacy of John Graeme Alexander Whites doing meaningless tasks and barely scraping by in the world. Alex refused to go by the initials that his father so prided himself on.
“J.G. White will make sure you get that order you brought by.” Alex’s first memories were sitting in the grubby lobby while his father worked eight hours at the auto repair shop that employed him. And his father, proud that he had tried to make a little joke by referring to himself in the third person, would then wink at whatever lady who stood at the counter to the auto repair shop with a cigarette hanging off her lip stained with whore red lipstick.
“Just get me my damn car.” The customer would eventually snarl, tossing a few wadded up bills at his father who leaned over the counter. It was the only way he could look at the customers.
Alex was certainly surprised years later when he grew up, that his father had never lost a finger when he worked on cars. The brute was a drunk, all day and all night. And when they got home, Alex would invariably be beaten. Mostly for his existence.
Alex knew he was a very typical stereotype when it came to being a submissive. He had an all-empowering job: an Army Ranger. As he had graduated ago, he had risen through to become a leading sergeant. All the while Victoria had been on his arm, throwing the appreciative looks of a besotted girlfriend. Certainly his comrades in arms had ribbed him. Alex was young, but the only one in his team not married. Though it appeared Victoria was very committed to him, no one really questioned their relationship needing more completion.
But that was not this very moment. Alex knew just by whispering that he had considered using his safe word that he could very well loose his relationship with Victoria. He did not want that to ever happen, but she was demanding so very much from him. And enough of him felt that even hinting at being electrocuted was too much.
Victoria reached for the full leather hood and pulled open the zipper. He stared as the velvet interior approached him, hearing yet another cascade of sparks from the corner, his eyes darting over to the tiny lights in the darkest corner of this room.
“Graceful.” He spat it out the second the velvet touched his lips.
Victoria snatched the mask off his face and stared at him.
“What did you say?” she hardly believed that she had heard it.
Alex took a deep breath and he looked her in the eyes. “Graceful. This is too much Victoria.”
Victoria sneered and rolled her eyes, quickly cutting him down. “Get out. Take your things and get out.”
Alex tipped his head and looked at her. “We need to talk about this, about us.”
“No. It’s over. You know it was going to be over the second you said your safe word. Now get out.”
Alex sat up in his cot with a start. He felt his chest heave. Silently, he threw his legs over and got up, wandering to the bathroom. A soldier on duty stiffened to attention. Alex waved the man off. The dream was always the same. It was an echo of three miserable years ago. He turned on the cold water and pooled some in his hands and splashed his face and bare chest.
‘It’s over.’ Her voice repeated like a broken record. And it pained Alex more than he could describe. Alex looked at his reflection in the mirror. His reflection was sympathetic but could do nothing to ease the emptiness in his heart. Reluctantly, Alex pushed himself away from the sink and headed back to bed lying on top of the crumpled sheets.
Alex stretched on his bed and looked over to the right, knowing it was empty, though his mind wished it were not so empty. He glanced over at the clock. It was only midnight. He rolled out again and then headed down the hall to the computer room. His machine was on waiting for him.
Alex shook the mouse; the screen came up from being in energy save mode. With a couple of clicks, the sleepy computer opened up the program he was looking for and the chat screen came up. A long list of sleepless chatters was already waiting in the BDSM room. Alex hesitated before joining, afraid that he would find the same thing with Mistress Victoria again. For weeks now he had been staring at the chat list, wondering what it could be like to chat with these people, finding perhaps that wide spectrum that he gravitated to. Undoubtedly there would be many people like Mistress Victoria, he was quite sure of that. She had her own group of friends that he had been passed around to when she was bored of him. He had gotten to know all sorts of manners that Dominants had over their submissives.
He scanned the list of chatters: JackofallPain, slv_slut, ass_me_no_qs, gentlelady, Sierra_Master, HardonMaster, Lord_of_slaves. The names were undeniably foreign concepts. Perhaps some of them described the person behind the name, but not always. Alex looked around his computer room and his gaze fell upon his current work, a design for a new school building. It was a three-dimentional drawing that would later be rendered. But for now, the page appeared to be a scribble of lines.
Alex’s eyes darted back to the screen, the prompt asking for his name was still there patiently waiting for him to comply.
Finally, Alex’s fingers reached for the keyboard and he hesitantly rolled his fingers over the keys typing: Lord_of_Lines. The enter key was hit instantly, before he allowed himself to think.
Slv_slut>Greetings Lord of Lines.
Alex paused. He had not expected to be spoken to.
Lord_of_Lines> Hello slv_slut.
Sierra_Master> you are getting better at welcoming E/everyone to the rooms slut. I am pleased.
Slv_slut> :: lowers her eyes pleased her Master has given her praise::
Sierra_Master> Welcome Lord_of_Lines, please, come join us.
Alex paused again, unsure of what he was really watching here. After all it was just text.
Lord_of_Lines> Thank you Sierra_Master.
Sierra_Master> So what brings you on so late?
‘Candid answers or honest answers?’ he wondered.
Lord_of_lines> A woman.
Sierra_Master> A woman or A Woman?
‘What’s the difference?’ Alex wondered.
Lord_of_Lines> What is the difference?
Sierra_Master> Have you never chatted in a BDSM room before?
Lord_of_Lines> I am sorry to say I have not.
Sierra_Master> Are you a Master?
Lord_of_Lines> No, nor am I switch or a submissive anymore.
Sierra_Master> May I ask then what brought you here?
Alex hesitated his response, but what did it matter to these people.
Lord_of_Lines> I used to be a submissive to a woman who I thought walked on water. We broke up three years ago after I said my safe word. I mostly do not think we ever really saw things eye to eye on what was safe and we certainly never talked about it. But even at the end, I am mostly ashamed to admit that I was not a very good submissive to her. I don’t know, maybe I changed in the time we were together.
Sierra_Master> So you have questions?
Lord_of_Lines> I guess so.
Sierra_Master> Well, you’ve come to the right place. Slv_slut is my r/t wife.
Lord_of_Lines> Nice to meet you.
Slv_slut> ::smiles to Lord_of_Lines:: Welcome Sir.
A pop up screen with a link came up.
Sierra_Master> Go ahead. It’s all right, the link I sent you will help answer some of your questions about the online protocol here. It is just fantasy based, but M/many do r/t.
Lord_of_Lines> Thank you for the reading.
Sierra_Master> It is time for U/us to go slut. Be well Lord_of_Lines.
Slv_slut> Yes Master. Be well Lord_of_Lines.
The couple signed off and Alex clicked the link sending him through the millions of data points to one single website. He bypassed all of the usual ‘if you are not a consenting adult, please leave’ notifications.
And he read. He found some simplicity in the way that online BDSM was just what it was, and there were no real expectations. Certainly, something inside of him hoped he could have another relationship, but it was not his intent. He wanted clarity: some sort of salve for the wound of a shattered heart.
-I want to be able to tell myself why I was willing to throw away six years with the same woman.-
He felt his heart harden again. It was going to take some time. And tonight, he was going to start.