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June 21, 10:00pm
In her dreams,he is with her, because he always is with her. “Breathe, kitten.” She wasn’t an innocent when she first met Him. Awkward, perhaps, and slightly gullible. She did not know what she was getting into when she first said, yes. But she knew this was not the same as her past encounters, and, yes, conquests. So she opened herself, in a way she had not, and said, yes. After that–
He did not use rope to bind her, merely words. But, oh, the power captured in a word! The words stay with her, always. They protect her. She hears them, even when they do not come from him. They are an ever present reminder to breathe, listen, pull back from the demons within her.
* * *
June 22, 8:00am
I wake up,and both he and she are next to me, as per usual.
“Are you ready to continue your training today?” He asks.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he says. “Now. Embrace your submission, Kitten.”
He speaks the word my mind is trained to receive. “Feel itnow.” Warmth spreads through my entire being. I’m a bit stunned how quickly my body has capitulated to his demands.
Instinctively, I push back to fight the compulsion, but my rebellion is short lived. The feeling is not an unwelcome intrusion, but a precious element that flows through my veins. “Now,” he repeats, and my body convulses in a violent acceptance.
They say it is corruption, but she understands that it heals her. She’s absorbed the corruption as vital for her body’s survival. Soothing, calming, as her breath quiets and stabilizes, rocking her into a gentle sleep.
“It feels good, doesn’t it, Kitten?” I nod sleepily and drift off into dreamland even as I hear him issue the same commands to her with a certainty that she will comply much as I have.
When I wake up, they are still with me. His arms are wrapped around me. Her arms are wrapped around me too.How did I end up in the middle again?He leans in and places a breath of a kiss on my forehead. Corruption? Corruption should not feel like a blanket. I would rather his words wrap around me than any soft fleece.
I’m not ready to get up. I snuggle back into his embrace. Laura wrinkles her cute nose in her sleep and follows me into the snuggle pile. Once more, reassured, I fall into a dark quiet, where troublesome spirits wait to visit me with their usual assortment of odd dreams. Stupid dreams. Oh, well, nothing can disturb me tonight.
I’ve had my fill of summer heat. I’m ready for comfy cardigan fall weather. God, I love sweaters! I find them infinitely sexier than bikinis or shorts, or even summer dresses. The way the soft cashmere and knits hug your body, demurely suggesting every curve.
I know, I shouldn’t be talking about the weather. Boring. But people like to talk about the weather. Or else, maybe they feel obligated to do so? My friend once had to stop dating a girl because she could not talk about anything else. Another friend suggested to him that he ought to have asked her if she worked as a meteorologist and, thus, could have had lengthy, intellectual discussions about the matter— but he said, no, she simply liked to talk about the weather. I think she was likely just nervous. My friend can be oblivious when women like him.
It’s been a good summer. Scratch that. It’s been a fantastic, whirlwind summer filled with memories. Why do we, as a species, feel the need to downplay our happiness? Do we worry that others will feel badly in comparison? Jealous? Is it a feminine (I don’t want to say “womanly”) thing? I wonder. I tend to do it myself, often, and have noticed female friends— in particular— do the same thing. But so do my male friends, from time to time. Truth is, I’ve had a fabulous summer and I ought to recognize that, as a matter of gratitude to those who helped make it so. I won’t always be so lucky, of course.
* * *
June 24, 6:00pm
Laura is travelingfor a party that we can’t attend because kids will be with us this weekend. As we drop her off at the airport, he decides to take me on a date. “You’ve earned it, Kitten,” he says, “You’ve been doing a really fantastic job. I’m proud of you.” He rubs my head as I purr in satisfaction.
* * *
June 27, 4:45am
Oomph.That was early than I thought. He did warn me to “wake up early,” but when he unlocks the apartment door and walks in, I’m snoring in a pile on the bottom of the bed. “Good morning!” I say in a cheery voice. You never want to sleep in for an adventure.
He takes my hand and leads me to the car. He opens it up and helps me get in. I love what a gentleman he is. I feel like it’s a bit of a lost art. He opens the door for me, and he walks on the outside of me on the sidewalk. I feel safe and protected, always, even when he isn’t physically present.
We drive, and I don’t know where we’re driving. I know it’s something outdoorsy, because he’s told me to wear comfortable shoes and something I can move around in that can get wet. I do like getting wet.
I put on some music to fill the quiet, because I want something but I don’t want to talk. I love long rides on mostly deserted roads where neither of us feels compelled to say a word.
I don’t keep track of how much time has passed, but I realize I’ve fallen asleep.
“You fell asleep,” he says.
“No, I didn’t!”I totally did.
