Page 10 of Submissive Lies

THREE

I blinked.

I was in the living room of the apartment, sitting in the dark. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

“Goddammit,” I whispered. My frustration here was the implied question behind the expletive: to whom did it apply? Ben, or myself? Because the real issue—the one that had sent me out here to the couch to cocoon myself in the throw and remember that life-defining day from my past—wasn’t something that Ben had created alone. He may have set it in motion, but I was the one who had conceived the lie that had me sitting here thinking about myself with pity and disgust.

I heard a small creaking noise from back in the house. For a panicked moment I thought it might be Thomas, awake and coming to find out where I was. I did not want to explain why I was out here. That was not a conversation I wanted to have yet. I sat motionless for a moment, but silence returned and there was no further sound. I got up, shrugged off the throw, folded it carefully and placed it over the back of the couch. Moving down the hall, I quietly slipped back to bed. Thomas was still asleep, back facing me as I sat at the edge of my side.

He was a good man.

Thomas Kiernan was a good man. I’d known that from the very first day I’d met him.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of whatever shit would eventually come down because of the lie I had dragged him into.

I slid under the covers next to him and he shifted back, pressing against me. I could smell him, that distinctive scent that was him—traces of the body wash he used, the slight tang of the sweat from the sex we’d had. Tears began to well up in my eyes, but I squeezed tight to force them back. I would not cry again tonight. I was determined. Adjusting my pillows, I spooned tight to him.

I lay there trying, but failing, to fall asleep. He deserved better, I kept thinking. I remembered how I’d first met Thomas. The first day I’d gone back to work after the playroom incident.

Somehow, I’d pulled myself together to the point where I believed I might make it through the workday without coming apart. Patched myself up, slapped on clothes that would pass as reasonable work wear, and hauled my ass in. As soon as I stepped out onto the Marketing Department floor, my boss Loren approached me.

“So? Did Ben enjoy your little surprise?” She winked at me with a knowing smile.

I almost lost it then, and I hadn’t even made it to my office. I bore down and smiled weakly, but it was obvious my response lacked the appropriate enthusiasm. It didn’t take long before she was watching me with concern, gently probing if there was anything I wanted to talk about. I avoided it that day, and then the next, but eventually I broke down and accepted her offer. We went out for drinks, and sufficiently lubricated, I filled her in on what had taken place. I kept my story lean, providing only the minimum amount of details. Loren didn’t know of my kink and none of the intricacies of my relationship with Ben. She knew that we were a couple who’d been living together for three years, and from all the limited information I’d shared with her during that time the impression was that I’d been happy. Which, truthfully, had been the case. Leaving out most of the gory details, I told her I’d left Ben because I’d found out he’d cheated on me. She was both filled with indignation and touchingly supportive.

“You are going to get through this and be stronger and better for it in the end.”

“That’s what they say.”

“Jen, I swear it. You have to be one of the strongest people I know. I know you. You will not let this define you nor weaken you. If ever there was a woman I could say has the ‘warrior’ spirit, it’s you.”

Wonder how much of a ‘warrior’ you’d think I am, Loren, if you knew how much I miss Ben? Miss feeling him tying me spread eagle to the cross and then flogging me. That thought went through my head, but only briefly. She meant well, and there was no way in hell I would spring something like my former submissive lifestyle on her.

Loren may have been the first to notice that something had happened to me, but it didn’t take long for others to do so too. Soon, through that wonderful communication medium known as office gossip, everyone knew that my boyfriend had cheated on me and that I was suddenly single. Between Loren and a few other co-workers and friends, eventually the inevitable happened; they started trying to hook me up. I had known it was likely to come to this at some point, and so when it did I was neither upset nor surprised. For each attempt sent my way I begged off, saying that I had no desire to jump back into the dating (cess)pool just yet. And that was the truth. It didn’t matter how great this guy was going to be or how they were sure we’d hit it off. I just wasn’t interested.

“Listen, at the very least, from everything I’ve heard, you’ll get some great sex out of it.”

That had come from one of my marketing co-workers, and while it had been candid and refreshing—and the only one I’d paused to consider—I still politely declined. What I really needed was time. Some time, some space, and a lot of healing. And, God bless them, there was no real pressure. They did what they did because they cared about me and wanted to see me happy. It was sweet, touching, and frustrating all at the same time. Eventually everyone seemed to get the subtle message, and the offers dwindled. At that point all of those things I wanted—the time, the space, the room to heal—I got.

And it was good… until it wasn’t.

I had forgotten one key thing about being in a D/s relationship; the intensity. The absolute passion with which you become connected to the person you’re engaging with. At its core there was one central tenet to most BDSM relationships. Trust. When you had created your own dynamic one of the most powerful aspects of it was how much you grew to trust that person. How much you came to trust your partner to take care of you even as they were doing these things that had the potential to be very harmful, whether emotionally, physically, or both. You trusted your partner to engage in these things and still cherish you, protect you, and look at you as the beautiful, incredible, desirable person you were. Outsiders’ often viewed BDSM as being all about pain—whips and chains, trussed up in ropes, clad in leather or latex. And in any given dynamic those things could be important. But the one thing that held it all together, the glue that allowed people to do these crazy, kinky things to each other, was trust. It was a hard thing to describe, but once you’d had that kind of relationship, it could be hard to give it up for something that seemed less in comparison. Difficult not to despair at the void its absence created and be desperate to have it back again.

That’s where I eventually ended up.

It was nine months after my separation from Ben when the itch grew to a point where I couldn’t ignore it any longer. It came on slowly at first. An ache I felt when I was alone, realizing the silence that surrounded me was no longer comforting. It wasn’t that I’d become a hermit. I’d kept up a social life of sorts both in and outside of work. It wasn’t strictly sexual either, since I had more than enough toys and a vivid imagination to help overcome those needs when they arose.

Still, all that aside, I knew what those pangs were, and I fought to keep them at bay. Loneliness is an insidious thing though. It creeps up on you, taking root in those safe spaces you’ve created. Then it breaks apart the foundation until, before you know it, they are cracking and falling down around you. That’s when loneliness can really do its job. Create the real damage it’s capable of. When it can wrap its tendrils around your thoughts, remind you of what you once had and whisper seductively how horrible your current life is.

-So, this spinsterhood thing really suits you! Could have saved yourself a lot of time and pain if you’d known how wonderful this was going to be before Ben.-

Stop. I don’t need this shit right now.

-Then fucking do something about it!-

My self-loathing loved what I was going through. It was having a field day, and I became ever more frustrated that it showed no signs of letting up. No sign that it would allow me to go back to the peace I’d had immediately after Ben was out of my life.

While my personal life was reaching a crisis point, my work life continued blithely along. I had an upcoming show for which I needed to prepare, but there was one slight twist. Our corporation had recently purchased a smaller company and folded them in under our corporate umbrella. I hadn’t worked with anyone who’d come over yet, but that would change for this upcoming show. We would highlight both lines of products in the booth simultaneously, and I would be getting my first taste of working with some of the team from the other company.

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