[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.