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meeting my mistress - part 2
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In the days and weeks that followed, neither T nor myself brought up Mistress R whenever we spoke on the phone. I figured that at some point in the future her and I would cross paths again. After all the goth and alternative music scene I moved within was insular and close-knit in a self-protective nature – so I felt it was inevitable by intention or by accident. Besides I was still unsure what to make of her and what was the nature of her interest in me, if there was any interest. So I left it to fate to decide and dictate when we would encounter again.
Fate decided four weeks later.
I was making my monthly trip to the city to hook up with boyfriend at his place. I would take the Friday off work to catch the early morning train, arriving around noon. I’d then take my time during the afternoon walking the few miles through downtown from the station up to the neighbourhood where T lived. Since I had ample time to kill before he got home from work to let me in, I would spend my afternoon browsing stores I knew along my route, shopping for new music, or books, and, sometimes, a couple of the sex stores to buy new clothing or gear for the upcoming weekend.
I had checked the weather before leaving home, being promised a cloudy but dry late-spring day… only to arrive and step out into the dreary, misty and cold downpour that blanketed over the city. Although I liked to pack heavy, often with a couple suitcases in tow, one filled with my club wear and my gear for bedroom time spent with T, stupid me today did not bother to pack along an outer coat. Wearing my hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans and nothing more to keep me dry or warm, I stepped outside the train station’s main entrance, looking up at the sky as the rain began to hit my face, thinking to myself a long slow, ‘fuck this…’
I looked around to see if there was a taxi waiting nearby, when I heard someone calling my name, the oddly familiar voice of a woman. ‘Hey boy, do you need a lift?’
It was then I noticed the black 1960-era Mercedes sedan waiting at the curb in front of me. Its side and rear windows were smoked black but the rear passenger one was wound down, and there was Mistress R smiling out at me.
She pushed opened the door and slid herself over to the other seat as I immediately scampered towards the car. At the same time, her driver – the same black bouncer from the private club last month – had gotten out, walked around to my side and greeted me now in an almost effete voice, ‘nice to see you again, here let me put those in the trunk for you’ as he relieved me of the burdens of my luggage.
‘Oh poor boy, you’re cold!’ she said, brushing off some of the moisture on my face and hair, as I did my best to quickly warm myself up inside the nice dry, very dry, nice warm, not cold like outside, car. She handed me some tissue to wipe off my wet, fogged glasses. ‘What are you doing here? I asked her.
‘I spoke to T a couple nights ago and he said you were on your way in today. He told me what time your train would arrive so I thought I would surprise and pick you up, is that okay?’ - ‘Yeah sure is!’ as I tapped a finger on the window, indicating the deluge raining down outside.
We drove off and I periodically glanced out the window to get an idea of my bearings and where we were headed to; it seemed to be in the same general direction as where T lived. My curiosity about her also made me discretely check her out, both from an appearance sake but also to try get a read on her personality and body language, whenever her attention was not in my direction. But there was not much to see while squished in the back of the car, as she was wrapped up in a three-quarter black leather coat, with black heeled boots appearing underneath where her long coat ended. Her bleach blond hair was slicked straight back with gel.
‘T said you would have a few hours until he got home, so let’s go to my studio and spend some time together until then – as I don’t want to take away your time tonight with T’ giving me a mischievous look.
‘I don’t know if T has ever talked to you about his and mine history together, before he met you, but I do know that you have quite a special person there. He also tells me that you’re someone just special as well.’
Not sure how to respond, and not really given the opportunity to agree or turn down her offer, and now wondering what exactly was her connection with by boyfriend, I just said, meekly and a little blushed, ‘Why thanks’.
Twenty minutes later spent navigating through the downtown traffic, we end up in an older, tree-lined mixed residential and office neighborhood. It actually seemed a little familiar, I probably had walked around or past here at some point, as it was located walking distance and within the confines of the gay neighborhood where T called home.
The car came to a stop and we got out, while her bouncer or assistant or what role he was for her, I did not know, ushered us inside with an umbrella to shield us from the still-heavy rain coming down. I followed her inside and up a few flights of stairs in what was an old three-story heritage office-block building from the early 20th century, some of it looking like it had been converted into apartments. We stopped at a door, painted dark red with a small black letter ‘R’ made from iron, screwed on to it. As she fiddled with her keys, I noticed there was no suite number on it, then looking around, realising that none of the other doors in the hallway had numbers on them, just her iron R.
I followed her inside into a large corner suite that looked something midway between an art gallery and a living room, with some leather couches and chairs set up in the middle and a personal bar along the longest wall. There are a couple closed doors to some rooms off to one side, and in one corner nearest to the entrance was a desk and some office furniture. My eyes were then taken in by the various black and white framed photos hanging here and there on the walls, provocative nudes of men or women in various poses and stages of undress and exposure.
‘This is my studio office, where I entertain and work from’.
‘Come, sit down… let’s get to know each other better’. As I parked myself down on one of the couches, secretly adoring the feel of the leather on my hands and body, R now seemingly much more relaxed and cheerful this day, stood in front of me and apologised:
‘I am sorry if our previous meeting made you uncomfortable or caught you off at all, that was not my intention, but when I am out at places like that, I have a role, a persona, an act, that I need ot keep up for appearances.’
With that said, she removed her black leather overcoat and walked off to hang it up on a coat rack by her desk, revealing the white high-collar blouse and brown riding pants she wore underneath, along with her heeled leather boots.
I was taken in by her outfit, admiring the view of her from behind as she walked away from me. I then blurted out, ‘do you ride?’
She was momentarily confused by what I asked, turning around to look at me, before it sunk in. ‘Ride? Oh, you mean horses. No I don’t… why, do you?’ – ‘Yes, I did when I was younger and lived far away from all this…’ – sweeping my hands about implying both the location and my current life circumstances.
She seemed amused, now sitting down next to me on the couch. ‘Huh, interesting… I’ll need to ask that next time during questioning’.
Despite her apology, I still felt the awkwardness from our first meeting, so I decided to take the initiative and try break some ice between us:
‘Speaking of your questioning… there is something I really need to ask… what all is going on here? I mean, like back at the club the other night. The hours of pointed questioning. T and D setting me up with you. What is this all about? I feel like there is something everyone else knows is going on – but oblivious to me.’
She straightened up on the couch, turning to look me in the face.
‘Ahh, so T and D have not said anything to you, dear…. well, much like you have a hidden life with your boy T, and your bisexuality and fetishism… well, so too, do I’. Her voice now dropped in pitch with a tone of seriousness behind it, ‘When I am not working my part-time day job, a well-paying job I may say so, I occupy myself working as a dominatrix and madam…’
‘And now that you have come to my attention, thanks to your boyfriend, I would like to try make a place for you as well in my life – and, perhaps, too, in my work.’
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Posted on : Oct 25, 2021
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