Experiencing Amelia

It had rained hard all day and the neon bar signs made the puddles in the street look like radiant paint smudges. Amelia's heart was thumping so hard in her chest that she was almost worried as she walked towards a bar she had never been to, in a part of town she had never visited for a reason that surprised even her. The tip-tap of her heels matched the rhythm of her heart as she made her way up the slick sidewalk.

As much as she was nervous, she also marveled at her own daring. Not even six months ago, she didn't even own a dress much less had imagine herself attending a "kink event". The mere thought of the words made Amelia blush. She'd always known things about herself, had even tried to pursue them, but had never felt free to do so. Now that she was newly divorced, she felt like she had a new lease on life. She was only thirty four, still plenty of time to find a new way, right?

And so she had tried, joining websites, learning what she could online, feeling more and more validated. It was on one of those websites where she had seen this event announced. A simple class for people interested in kink, her kink, submission. It was advertised as great way to meet like-minded friends with zero pressure. She signed up, paid her money, and didn't think much about it until that morning. She wrestled with herself all day. She would not fit in. She would be overwhelmed. She would embarrass herself. Life was short. What's the worst that could happen?

Still conflicted but feeling brave, she had dressed casually that night - jeans, a black blouse, casual heels. After all, she was going for information not a casual hook up. Her plan was to slip in the back and remain as invisible as possible. She just wanted to watch and learn and maybe observe other couples. But when Amelia walked into the backroom of the bar designated for the event, she realized that she had severely misunderstood the nature of this particular meeting. The room was packed with about forty people, almost all entirely men, older men with that particular look in their eye. As she slid along the back wall, Amelia glanced around for a little hiding place but there was nowhere. Pressing her back against the cool brick by the entrance way she tried to gather her bearings. She laughed internally as everyone looked like they were in uniform, dressed just like her in some variation of jeans and black. The few women she saw were in black dresses and comfortably with someone. She knew she should have brought her cousin Sydney who was the only person who knew anything about this kink stuff. Sydney was home visiting from Chicago and would have loved this.

While she felt completely out of her element, she could see a few others looking slightly uncomfortable and that made her feel better. A young couple eyed the room and commented to each other out of the side of their mouths. Amelia smiled remembering those days but also felt a little jealous that they had each other. The only other person that caught her eyes was a handsome guy smiling at the bar. He stood out for two reasons. First, he was the only person in the room not dressed in black. He looked like he had just gotten off work wearing pressed khakis and a light blue button up shirt. Next, he had an easy smile on his bearded face and didn't look the slightest bit uncomfortable but he also didn't look like he was scoping out the room. He was just chatting casually with the bartender.

It was as she noted all this that a tall thin black man in a top hat walked to the front of the room to get everyone's attention. It was the top hat that pushed her off the teetering edge of indecision. As everyone turned to listen, she backed casually out of the room and decided to just pretend that this had never happened. As much as she wanted to learn and explore, she just couldn't listen to a man in a top hat talk to her about sex. It all seemed too surreal. She would go home, undress and watch something suitably mindless to take her mind off this failed experiment.

Her heels tapped quickly towards her car as she pulled her keys free from her purse and thumbed the unlock button on her fob. She immediately knew something was wrong. Her car lights didn't flash to let her know she had unlocked the doors. As she approached the car, she could tell the door was slightly ajar and the window glass smashed. Amelia just stood staring at the wreckage of her vehicle.

"Motherfucker!" She yelled into the night and even stomped her foot like a petulant child.

"Everything ok?" A deep voice asked quietly and she shrieked and spun around into someone standing directly behind her. It was the man in blue that had been standing by the bar inside. His hands immediately sprung out and steadied her and he asked again, "Hey, is everything ok?"

Amelia took a deep breath and shook her head. She smiled politely but took a step back just out of his reach. "Ah, no. It's seems I've been vandalized." Her word choice made her chuckle. "Vandalized and scandalized in the same night." She rolled her eyes and turned to her violated car.

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Ben had been looking forward to the munch ever since he'd moved to the Gulf Coast from DC. He was looking forward to getting out, meeting new people, and, hopefully making some like minded friends. Walking into the little bar, he'd known this place was maybe not quite what he was looking for. They all seemed to be an affectation of what they thought kink was at best or a pallid impression of something they had seen in a porn at worst.

He had come hoping for a community he could sink roots into while he was here, instead he found a meandering meat market. The few people in attendance that were not looking to hookup or simply be shocking, looked as pitifully lost as a child forgotten in a store. He'd parked himself by the bar and made small talk with the young guy behind it. He'd been a bartender through college and could always make himself at home there. The poor guy had no idea what was going and, even as Ben tried to normalize it a bit for him, a man in a goddamned top hat walked up to the front of the room and gave a pretentious clap to get everyone's attention.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me..." Ben murmured under his breath. He turned to the bartender and shook his head, slid cash across the bar and knocked him a salute as he slipped around the edge of the backroom. He saw he wasn't the only one making a speedy exit as he watching a pretty brunette back slowly from the meeting. He smirked and stopped to glance back around the room. Everyone's eyes turned toward the man giving a speech... quite dramatically. Rolling his eyes and pulling out his phone to Google the nearest sports bar, Ben slipped from this unfamiliar world of kink and out into the humid Southern air beyond.

He could tell he was a few yards behind the brunette from the echoing click of her heels on the damp deserted streets, as he scrolled through his phone, queuing up directions to the local pub. He was trying to keep a respectful distance (he didn't want to alarm her, a woman alone in a questionable part of town) but he was trying to make sure she got into her car safely. He was relieved when she stopped a few cars in front of his. He could pass her and make it clear he wasn't a creeper when -

"Motherfucker!"

The sheer venom in her outburst stopped him in his tracks. Trying to see what had upset her so quickly, he strode closer.

"Everything okay?" He asked, realizing how close he was too late, when she started and spun around losing her balance. The faint smell of honeysuckle hit him as her long hair fanned out and he steadied her. "Hey... everything okay?"

She stepped back and gestured towards her car which had clearly been broken into and even though it was quite obvious, she made a clever remark about being vandalized... vandalized and scandalized in the same night.

As she called the cops, Ben pulled up her hood just to confirm (yep, battery stolen) and peaked his head through the broken window (stereo ripped out, everything else rummaged through). He glanced over at the woman pacing back and forth on the sidewalk explaining to the dispatcher where she was, what had happened, and chewing nervously on her bottom lip. He confirmed she had her purse (good, probably most of the irreplaceable stuff was in there) and for the first time really took in this unfamiliar girl.

She was shorter than him but not short. She wasn't thin but not fat, just a symphony of curves from her long neck, to the swell of her cleavage, through to the way her hips flared into a round bottom. Even in the flickering street lights, he saw her hair was dark and long with side swept bangs, she wore fashionable thick glasses which hid dark eyes and a smattering of freckles across pale skin. She wasn't at all what normally caught his eye (his normal girls we petite, willowy thin and blonde) but for some reason he couldn't stop watching her pace the sidewalk.

She hung up the call and cursed again, turned to him and seemed a little surprised he was still standing there. She stopped pacing and looked up and down the street. He could tell she was trying to decide if she should also be worried about him.

He held up his hands attempting to be non-threatening. "I can't just leave you out here by yourself but if it makes you more comfortable, I'll go sit by my car." He pointed to the SUV a few cars lengths down the street. He held out a tentative hand and tried to give a reassuring smile. "Hi, I'm Ben."

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"Amelia". She slid her small hand into his larger, warmer one and felt something. There was just no other word for it. A moment where her soul (did she believe in such things?) lept inside with recognition of a kindred spirit. She furrowed her brow and studied him closer. He was probably in his early forties, tall and, though she wouldn't use the word muscular, he looked strong. He had darkish hair, short on the sides, a bit wavy on top that flowed into a nice beard. He didn't over groom it and she liked that. It was too dark to make out his eyes but she could tell they sparkled.

She held his hand for perhaps a moment too long before he gave it a squeeze and let it go. "Yeah, if you don't mind. I would really appreciate you waiting. This isn't really my neck of the woods." She again glanced up and down the street. There were lots of cars but no people. Amelia imagined they belonged to the kinksters inside the bar enjoying a night of debauchery and the thought alone made her giggle. Ben arched an eyebrow. "Sorry!" She tried to take the awkward laugh back. "This has just been one hell of a weird night."

Ben nodded like he totally understood. "You were at the event, right?" He asked. His voice was deep and rough like gravel. It wasn't a whisper but it wasn't loud. He had the voice that made you want to lean in and listen. "I saw you decide to retreat about the same time I did." He chuckled.

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, not a great introduction." Without a word she followed him naturally towards his car and the both propped on the hood to talk.

"Introduction? Was this your first kink event?" He sounded incredulous. Amelia just nodded. "Oh no, that is very unfortunate. I'm from DC and the scene is, well let's just say, better."

Amelia's ears perked up. He wasn't a newbie, not at all, and she wondered would he let her pick his brain. She wondered if it would be safe to pick his brain...

Before she could open her mouth to ask, he started talking again, "When I got transferred to the Gulf Coast, I was hoping there would be a scene of some kind. So, I suppose, all things considered, I'm grateful to find something here. I was just hoping for it to be a bit more... natural." He seemed to pause lost in the thought and then glanced over at her. Their eyes met and she immediately looked down at her shoes. Eye contact had never been something she was comfortable with. "And, this was your first time? Fuck, that is not at all ideal. I remember my first time. I was so nervous." She saw him glance again. "But you don't seem nervous at all."

She threw her head back and laughed, "Oh well you should have seen me having mini panic attacks all day. I almost didn't come and, fuck," she pointed towards her poor car, "I guess, I was right to want to stay home." They sat in the quiet, humid night both regarding her car. "Besides, I'm not sure it was for me. I was just curious."

"Curious about what?" Ben asked, voice hushed and serious.

"Kink..." She trailed off like it had been obvious.

"No. What exactly? What part of kink? There has to be something specific you wanted to learn about." She glanced at him, met his eyes, glanced away again. The subject felt very intimate to her, only discussed with her cousin Sydney and only in the vaguest of terms. To talk about deep and (sometimes) confusing sexual thoughts with a complete stranger (a handsome stranger) felt weird. But then she realized that's what she had been planning on doing tonight anyway, and even though this conversation felt a bit more personal, Ben was, at least, not wearing a top hat.

"Well..." She began slowly trying to pick her words carefully. "I suppose, I came hoping to find out more about...submission." Her voice caught on the last word and she felt her cheeks flush pink. She felt hot and sticky in the humid air and her hair stuck to her neck. He didn't speak so she cleared her throat and continued, "It's something I've always probably felt but have just recently been able to put into words."

"So you've never submitted sexually to anyone before?" He asked matter of factly like this was a conversation about the movies they liked.

"Um. Not formally." She answered.

"Interesting answer." He rocked back, eyebrow arched. "What do you mean by that?"

Amelia swept her hair off her neck trying to cool down. "Well, I just mean, I've always followed directions well or been the more eager to please. My ex husband was never aggressive or... you know..." Her voice trailed off.

"He never dominated you." He filled in her silence.

"No." She said simply.

"And would you like to be properly dominated?"

She opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again. She tried to put into words exactly what she wanted to say. She turned to answer him and his face lit up with blue flashing lights. The cops had finally arrived.

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Ben waited as the Amelia gave her information to the cop and a tow truck was called to take her impotent car home. He stayed propped on the hood of his own car and just watched this curious girl whom he had just met. It seemed she had grown a bit wild as they'd sat and talked, like she had peeled away the layers of formality. Her hair which had been sleek and long had started to snake into loose waves from the humidity. Her face was expressive as she explained the situation to a rather bored policeman. He thought of how confidently she spoke until it came to sex, kink, submission then her voice caught and quieted. This Amelia was repressed. And she thought she might be submissive? Ben smirked to himself. He would quite like to see what kind of sub she made for some lucky Dom.

The tow truck came and hauled her car away with a rattle of falling glass. The cop asked if he'd like for him her to call a cab and she assured him that she'd get a Uber and thanked him politely. Ben watched Amelia watch as her car faded down the street.

"I know we are still basically strangers but I would love to take you home." He spoke casually and she turned to regard him skeptically. "I mean, I know we are complete strangers but if I wanted to kidnap or murder you, I would have by now."

"I'd hate to inconvenience you." She said, ever the Southern way, making someone's generosity sound like a sacrifice.

"Not a bother at all. In fact, I was going to grab a bite to eat. I'd love it if you tagged along. My treat. I think we have a lot to talk about." He made the offer carefully to keep if from sounding like a date, trying not to scare away this flighty wild woman.

She paused a long time and then nodded. He nodded back and hopped off his car and strode around to open the passenger door for her. When he got into the car and started it up, he asked her about the place he had Googled on his way out of the event. She nodded enthusiastically and again the smell of her wafted towards him. Subtle and earthy. Honeysuckle. She told him it was a bit loud, but the drinks were strong and the food was good. He smiled and took off, letting her give directions instead of his phone. Her voice was warm and her accent was faint most of the time. She pointed out landmarks and interesting things as they drove and even cracked herself up once or twice telling little stories of things that had happened and mostly he was quiet just listening but her laugh, a funny giggle, made him laugh too.

They pulled into the little sports bar. It was a comfortable place, full of casual people, and they both instantly relaxed. Ordering food and drinks, she asked about him. What did he do? How long had he been in town? How long did he plan on being in town? She casually asked about a wife and Ben said he was currently single. She nodded down into her food. The tiniest smile curving the edges of her lips.

Strategically waiting until she had take a bite of her chicken, Ben said, "You never answered my question. Do you want to be dominated? Properly? By someone who knows what they are doing?" He got the exact reaction he wanted. Her eyes got wide and she covered her mouth with both her hands trying to suppress coughing her chicken everywhere. He just smiled and waited patiently, the roar of the bar all around them.

She finally swallowed and composed herself. "Well, I mean, no offense but I barely know you."

Ben threw his head back laughing, his turn to be caught off guard.

"Oh no, Dixie girl, you don't know me well at all. For example, I never told you I was a Dom. And I never actually offered my services, to be fair."

Her cheeks flushed with the subtle correction and she began picking at her food.

"You are absolutely right. My apologies." She said with a subtle mixture of embarrassment and sarcasm.

Someone does not take correction well, Ben mused. He reached across the table to touch her hand gently, just his thumb rubbing gently across the back of her hand.

"Hey hey, no pouting," he said. "I can tell that these things are hard for you to talk about. But you need to learn now, there are right ways and wrong ways to go about any kind of bdsm. Assuming anything is always the wrong way."

"I'm not pouting." She immediately corrected him. "I'm just embarrassed. It was a misunderstanding." Her eyes flashed up at him, dark and fierce and full of sass. It was that insolent look that made Ben shift in his seat, uncomfortably aware of his balls suddenly. Amelia sat up straight in her chair and smirked. "So then, I'll rephrase. Are you a Dom? If yes, tell me about that."

Ben put his fork down and took the last swallow of his beer. Finally, she had asked the right question. He leaned back and settled in. He confirmed that he did identify as a Dominant and that he had been actively pursuing that since he was in his late twenties. He described the path he followed to learning more about "the lifestyle" (finding a community, reading, taking classes, having the hard discussions); his first submissive (a slightly older woman, who with endless and generous patience had taught him the right way to touch a woman to inflict the perfect amount of pain); his bdsm philosophy (which included lots of communication).

As Ben casually talked about the first time he had publicly flogged a woman, he watched her face which was trying to remain passive and unphased but was glowing with a crimson blush. He liked making her blush.