[Fiction] Trust/Fall 1.2

If you missed the previous installment, please click here!

It turns out that the human perception of time is relative. Yeah, I know. Not exactly the biggest insight there. We’ve all had good times fly by while those things we would rather not linger: class, dentist visits, etc. take forever. Those two days? They took around two years, minimum. My anxiety used that time to run amok. What would these people be like? What should I wear? What if someone from school found out? Thoughts and fantasies about it occupied almost every moment not spent on class or sleep.

Of course, when the time came it was all rushing and cursing the traffic for making me get home late. Then it was popping in and out of a shower and racing through my wardrobe trying to find any of the outfits I had spent hours planning. Not to mention what I had to do to make my hair actually behave. Somehow though, it all came together. I made it out the door in a style that was both cute and warm: heeled boots, tights, and a cute black dress bundled beneath a scarf and a gray tweed trench coat.

The place really was just a short hop from my apartment. I’m not quite sure what expected from a depraved sex dungeon, but I actually drove right past it at first because it was so unassuming. Sable was tucked away down a little side street in a slice of downtown more devoted to shopping and nightlife than business. It was the only business on that street, but it shared a building with a bar and a darkened, “appointments only” junk shop. The windows were heavily tinted and the name was spray painted on a stretch of wall to the left of the door in a metal album cover style. The only thing that really indicated the place’s true nature was the gaggle of black leather clad smokers crowding the front walk and hovering around patio furniture.

I flushed as I walked to the door, eyes on the sidewalk. I could feel people looking at me, making comments to each other, and I knew I should say ‘hi’, but it was taking all my focus to just tamp down my nerves as I made it to the door. As it opened, a gust of warm air teased my red cheeks and brought the smell of coffee, tea, and spices. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim indoors and begins to take things in: tables, chairs, a long wooden bar; people in groups talking quietly or laughing boisterously; and a small stage space where a person patiently layered rope around an uncertain looking boy. Yeah, either this was it or I’d just walked into a really big coincidence.

“Hey, welcome!”

My reaction got a laugh. I’m told I looked like a deer in headlights. The bartender waved me over with a grin. “Menu’s up there, byob, limited food. House rules over there. Any questions?”

“Yeah, a few…”

[Fiction] Trust/Fall 1.1

If you missed the prelude, please click here!

“Fuck,” I whimpered at the dead piece of vinyl between my legs and my nose curled at the faint smell of smoke. This wasn’t working. A magic wand is a terrible thing to waste, and burning one out seemed a bit more like pointed commentary that I was comfortable with. Fifteen minutes and a cold shower later, it still wasn’t sitting well with me as I toweled off my shoulder length hair. I looked down at the dead vibrator sitting sadly on my bed and frowned. I flicked the switch back and forth and offered prayers to whatever god looks out for single kinky girls. Nope.

Flopping on the couch in a fuzzy blue bathrobe, I stared up at the stucco and thought about my options. School was a no, the less anyone there knew about my personal life or proclivities the better. Bars were…problematic, the kind of things I liked to do were best done sober and not with complete strangers. Personal ads? Nah, that just seemed like a good way to wind up in pieces in the river. “Fuck,” I reiterated with a heavy sigh into wet blonde bangs. Propping myself up on one shoulder I poked the laptop on my coffee table to life and with one finger poked out: ‘bdsm clubs’. Huh. That was surprisingly easy.

I mean, sure, first I had to scroll through a host of sites form the early days of the net, had to break out the brain bleach to deal with loud color schemes, autoplaying metal music, and so called ‘true dom’ bullshit, but in the end? I found a name: The Sable, an address, and a calendar of events. With one of those events, a tea & coffee munch, being held in just two days. I paused as I looked at the event details. Maybe this had been too easy. I think my mind had wanted something more unattainable, something to think about and fantasize over, and eventually give up on. I hadn’t really expected it to be as easy as just, showing up and having a cup of tea. And now that it was, my stomach squirmed a bit as I tried to think of a good excuse. I bit my lip as I stared at the screen. My mouse hovered above a small RSVP button. And I clicked, and began typing an e-mail.

We’ve all got times in our life that we look back on and think: what would have happened had I done this differently? Where would I be had I stayed home? Would things be the same had something different? And its infuriating, because you’ll likely miss the biggest decision of your life when you’re making it. You can only see that sort of in retrospect and then sometimes you’ll lay awake at night and gaze into the dark and entertain: what if? And those thoughts? They terrify me. Because I look at what came from that night, and can’t imagine my life any other way.

[Fiction] Trust/Fall, Prelude

Okay, so I hinted at this on Tumblr a couple months back.

It had been a particularly bad day for people I cared about. There have been too many of those. And on that day, I decided that, in addition to all the dark and twisted erotica, I was going to write something with happy endings. Because people like me and the people I love deserve them. Hell, I was in fact going to go all out and write a romance. But it would be a romance on my terms: kinky and queer as fuck.

The result is a story idea that I’m calling Trust/Fall. Because I work best under limitations it’s going to be released serially (possibly even on a regular schedule if I can get my life together), and no one entry will exceed 500 words.


My love life has always been…complicated. But, like a lot of girls, I always just kinda assumed I’d do my best in life, meet a guy, and somehow everything would work out from there. You know the narrative that gets drilled into society? You find a prince charming, a one true love, someone to spend your life with and it…works out. I realize just how naïve I was to believe that. But I was young, I was in a new city and I felt like I had a whole new life. I thought anything was possible. And it was. Just, it turns out it’s hard to be prepared for ‘anything’.

I’m Zoe Walker, my pronouns are she/her/hers. Back when all this started I was twenty-one and genuinely thought I had my self and the world figured out. Sure, there had been a few hiccups here and there, a minor medical issue or two, and there was a looming cloud of student loan debt. But, all in all, I figured that I was a pretty, confident, and talented young woman. Now, I read that more as ‘self-important little snot’, but you know how time changes all things.

I was on track to get a master’s of public health, and I’d just moved into my first apartment without a roommate. It was a tiny studio, but the fact that it was mine meant a lot to me. I remember laying down on the cushy carpet after I had signed the lease and looking up at the ceiling, breathing deep and drinking in the experience of having a place that I could call home. That lasted for about five minutes before I remembered that I didn’t really know how I was going to be able to pay for it. I had some savings and was able to defer my loans, but up to that point in my life I had relied on my parents a lot. Too much. That…wasn’t going to be an option anymore. I had a work-study lined up with the school, but I could do math. So job hunting was one thing that was going on the to-do list.

Another thing on the to-do list was me. I hadn’t really had the best time dating in high school. And while I’d had a fair amount of sex in college, my partners had always shied away from making that a long term thing. Just as well though, most of them hadn’t really…um…ticked my particular boxes. You see, I like being tied up (actually it turns out I like a whole hell of a lot more than that, but that’s what I knew at the time), and it had been far too long since anyone but myself had had a hand in that. That’s going to be relevant before we’re done.

I guess at this point I should just get on with it. So tempting to stall, to ask whether this is a story worth telling. Actually, fuck it.

Trust/Fall, Chapter One…