Fish Out Of Water Ch 02 1

I knew it as surely as I knew the earth was round and day followed night.

Yes, people change in appearance over the years, I certainly had, but somehow on an innate level I knew it was him. His eyes met mine and for the first time in forever I felt fear. Fear that he would hate me for the woman I had become, fear that despite everything that had passed between us once, he would turn his back on me and destroy the only happy memories I held dear. Fear that I would disgust him... So I did what I always do in situations in which I didn’t feel in total control, I become Her, the Domina persona so seamlessly melded to the real me that I sometimes wonder if I am even me anymore.

Striding forward I stood nose to nose with him and felt proud that he only shivered slightly at the intrusion,

“Do you see anything of interest?”

He swallowed, and stared into my eyes, my hazel irises shielded by my vivid jade green prescription contacts. He nodded and stepped back. Advancing I pinned him to the wall, our noses touching as I pressed my breasts against his chest,

“Is there a reason that you are staring at me like you are about to review my performance?”

He shook his head slowly, his frame seeming to tighten and lengthen, making him that vital inch taller than I.

A seemingly subtle sign of dominance that I knew too well. Staring up at him, he just held my gaze, his slightly laboured breathing telling me that he found me attractive, intriguing, powerful; his body answering me when I yearned to hear his voice tell me.

Still high from my demonstration, I was fuelled and desperate to fuck, yet seeing Max again after so long, and here of all places, had thrown me very much off tangent. Everything I had ever seen and done in the years since we’d parted seemed to swirl through my head along with memories of the man before me gently kissing me and telling me I was his sweet little kitten .

In that instant I wanted to smack him senseless and kiss him better , make him feel every ounce of pain and hurt as vividly as I had when he left me. In that instant I longed to smack him to the point of bruising, then slowly lick him until he drowned in endorphins.

Every sordid tainted image filtered into my brain seeming to play backwards, until all that I saw was the younger and more familiar Max rather than the man standing before me.

I wanted to hold him, kiss him, hell, I wanted to feel his cock deep inside me, bringing me the same pleasure he had once brought me all those years ago. My body and my brain were slowly shutting down, overloaded. I had to get the fuck away from him, but my sadistic streak kept me pressed against him for just a few seconds more,

“So you liked what you saw and you don’t have any questions?”

He nodded and I realised that I couldn’t take any more. Stepping back, I looked him up and down, taking in the changes that had occurred since we’d last said goodbye. He had filled out, which I liked, his brown hair now slightly peppered with grey.

Where once he had slouched, he now stood proud. I wondered what had happened in the years we’d been apart and what sense of purpose this man before me welded that my Max hadn’t possessed. Far too many questions that would never be answered; I had to end this insanity,

“Then please get the fuck out of my way!”

I turned and strode towards the staircase, intent on getting out as quickly as I could before I said or did something stupid. As I took the first step I felt his hand on my shoulder and I hissed, turning to face the man who should have been my happy ending.

“I’m sorry.”

Two words; two words uttered with such conviction and in such a familiar voice that my knees almost buckled. I glared at him, hating him for keeping me in his view yet desperate to hear more. I wanted to hear him tell me he loved me, words that I had yearned for back then but had never heard. I wanted to hear more apologies, desperate begging pleas for forgiveness for his leaving me when I’d needed him most.

Staring up at him I cocked my head and gave him my patented scowl.

“I’m sorry I stared at you. It’s just...”

He looked so uncomfortable that I found the beginnings of a rare smile grace my lips.

Obviously emboldened Obviously surprised by my abrupt change in demeanour he nervously barked a short laugh, which shot through my body like a bullet.

Suddenly stumbling I quickly tried to grip the banister to steady myself but missed, my legs unsteady. I felt myself fall and as he caught me in unfamiliarly strong arms I felt myself melt into him, yearning for every ounce of that strength to envelop me, if only for a moment.

Holding me close he stared down at me, his brown eyes sincere,

“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head, staring at him wide eyed and, frankly, afraid. I never allowed anyone to have the upper hand yet here I was, held safe in his arms and completely at his mercy. Not once in our history had Max ever been this assertive or, dare I say, masculine, but here we were, me prone in his arms and getting off on it!

“I’m okay. Thank you. If you could just help me down to the door I can catch a taxi home.”

He nodded and swept me up into his arms.

Unbelievably he carried me down the stairs like the closing scene from “An Officer and a Gentleman”. My very own Romantic Hero. Every instinct in my body wanted to fight against him but my brain overruled, revelling in feeling so protected and yet so vulnerable.

As he set me down on the pavementI held him tightly, desperate to cling to him like a vine and never let go, despite hating that vulnerable streak that only Max could force to the very surface.

Shyly I couldn’t meet his eyes, and found myself reverting to my old ways, clenching my hands into fists and twisting away from him, trying to create distance. Staring out at the road, I searched for the yellow light of a taxi in the stygian blackness but it remained as dark as my soul.

Breathing deeply I turned to Max and shrugged, “I’ll wait here. Thank you again for your help.”

He tilted his head and stared at me, a look that seemed to strip each layer of skin from my bones.

“I can’t explain it... it makes no sense...”

I stared back and galvanised myself, standing as tall as I could and summoning every ounce of reserve I had.

“I should explain I guess. I’m not normally this rude to women I’ve just met but you just remind me so strongly of someone I used to know...”

Stunned I stood there, torn between hoping he recognised me and fearful that he had,

“She must have been pretty impressive then.”

He grinned at me and looked me up and down, rendering me useless,

“She was... She most certainly was.”

...

The cafe was nondescript, yet another white walled, green couched franchise. As Max hauled me through the open doors, I heaved the air into my lungs, caffeine and cake and immediately felt at home. You know what I mean, you’ve been there.

Each menu the same, the scent, the pressure of getting your order right without disdain from your barisata. The power of the ubiquitous coffee shop. Dark woods, clean lines and me, the Arch Deaconess of pain in its midst. The irony did not elude me, from Land’s End to John O’Groats, the coffee shop was the same.

It was only me who tainted its sterile surroundings. My fragrant Je ne sais quoi taint fulling the nostrils of the unyet suspecting patrons.

The art-deco clock hanging behind the cash register showed it was now past midnight. Sitting opposite my first and only love in an all night coffee shop in Cornwall wasn’t exactly where I thought I’d be but symbiotically it was where I ended up .

Max refused to leave me as I waited for a cab and because fate is a bitch, no taxi appeared in the 40 minutes we waited.

After only 10 minutes standing in the chilly seaside air, he had chivalrously given me his coat. Despite my inner bitch protesting, I was too cold and too grateful to vocally protest. In silence we stood side by side until Max finally took my frozen hand and tugged me off down the road.

I was numb to the point that it took a few seconds for me to realise his intentions. I then revelled in the warmth of his touch for another long, magical moment before I pulled back,

“What the hell are you doing?”

He looked back and shook his head cheerfully,

“Come on! It’s freezing cold and I don’t know about you but I need a cup of tea. Don’t be a diva!”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed, a deep hearty laugh with a snort at the end. I rarely laugh anymore but I’ve always snorted (So much so that Sarah dubbed me Miss Piggy in my youth).

Max stilled at the sound and stared at me, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes. My skin prickled at his interrogation and I glared at him,

“Did your Mother never tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“She did frequently. But I can’t help it. You just seem so familiar somehow and let’s be honest, no-one else in here looks like you do!”

The coffee shop could have been anywhere but I felt unique. And finding my Max, it felt somehow that we could have been anywhere, the highest end restaurant or any low rent cafe. Our outfits, our demeanours, our personas... nothing else mattered to me in that moment other than the man sitting opposite me, gazing at me with the same burning intensity that I echoed back.

We could have been anyone, anywhere and yet, together, our combined energies seemed to ignite or surroundings. At least as far as I was concerned.

I didn’t need to look around to know that people were staring. In London, no-one pays much attention to anyone else and I can wander through the dark streets dressed in my finest without a worry. To be fair, my Domina outfits of black leather and PVC are utterly tame transposed against the voluptuous sequins and lamés favoured by the drag queens who work near the club, their vibrant outfits made even more dazzling by their vast statures in the 8 inch platforms they favour.

On more than one occasion I have relented to their incessant pleas to make me over and have then stood dazzled by the resulting image presented to me, the highly decorated colourful version of me that could have been. All shimmer and colour, my face a riot of sparkle and sequins and joy, I twirl, revelling in their delighted laughter and praise.

...

Sitting in this Cornish cafe, I could have worn a showgirl costume of yellow feathers and turquoise sequins and still not been as conspicuous as I am now. But fuck them; I have worked too hard for too long to care what other people think. I know in my soul, that if I met their eyes, most would look at me with lust or admiration. Even those who viewed me with disdain would still want to fuck me. Why? Because I am now Her, and She is undeniable.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Pulled from my memories I focus on Max. A mug of tea sat before me, the swirls of steam curling up into the air and I clutched it, almost wincing as the heat of the ceramic met my icy skin.

“This from the man who carried me down the stairs and practically abducted me from the pavement! Don’t get coy on me now!”

He smiled and I felt my heart splinter a fraction, just a tiny chink in my hard won armour.

“Do we know each other? Really?”

I sipped my tea, and used the precious seconds to ponder my answer. To lie would be the best response for the both of us but the truth was a tantalising door into God knew what.

“It depends. Do you frequent high end fetish clubs across the world?”

Max gazed at me and slowly shook his head.

“Have you ever paid £1000 to have a woman beat you into submission and lay prostate against her boots?”

Again he shook that adorably familiar face. I leant forward and held his wide eyes.

“Have you ever pleaded with a woman to take control of you, mind, body and soul and allowed yourself to feel the fulfilment of submission?”

He sucked in a breath and I caught the infinitesimal movement of his head, answering no. Sitting back, I shrugged out of his coat, letting the already shocked patrons see the full extent of my neck to knee latex armour outfit.

Considering the hour and the obvious fact that most of them were sobering up after a night out on the town, their gasps fed my ego and I finally felt comfortable in my new, alien environment. However pedestrian I truly knew it to be.

“Well then my friend, if none of those situations ring true to you then it’s fair to say that we have never met.”

Max sank back into his seat and regarded me, his eyes raking my face. It took everything to hold myself serene, to not let my emotions flicker into life but years of training paid off.

“I can’t say I have ever done any of those things. So I must be wrong. Maybe you remind me of someone I’ve seen in a film or something...”

I laughed,

“I can only imagine the kind of films you watch!”

Max laughed and sipped his tea,

“I’m sure you could!"

I shrugged and motioned to the waitress, ordering us both another mug of tea and two plates of toast. My stomach was churning, a frequent (and still unexpected and unwelcome) side effect of my “performances” and I needed to eat to calm it.

She starred at me, her eyes fluttering from my face to my breasts and back. I raised a brow, ready to throw out a sarcastic aside when she surprised me, stuttering,

“I... err... I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I... I love your outfit. You look like a superhero!”

I almost choked on my tea in surprise.

“Well thank you. Although I was channelling a Super Villain when I got dressed this evening.”

She blushed and I caught a flash of myself in my early days, so wanting to be accepted. I smiled at her, the first true smile since I’d fallen into Sarah’s arms.

“But as long as it’s super, it doesn’t matter right?”

She smiled meekly,

“I wish I could wear something like that. Look like you do.”

I reached for her shaking hand and held her gaze, imploring her with my wide open eyes to focus solely on me, a trick I use all the time to guide my submissives.

“You can my darling and you should. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of you, only what you think of you. Be brave, be bold, be you. Nothing else matters.”

She nodded and started to turn away to place my order,

“One more thing though darling...”

She whipped around, rapt for my next words.

“If you venture into PVC, make sure you liberally apply baby powder first as it’s a bitch to get in or out of!”

Max choked out a laugh as our waitress grinned and darted away.

“That may have been the first honest thing you’ve said tonight.”

I scowled at him.

“You think I’ve lied to you? I wasn’t aware we’ve discussed anything pertinent?”

He shook his head,

“I’m not saying you’ve lied... but watching you interact with the waitress... you seemed like a different person from the woman I’ve been talking to. More genuine, more real. Like that was the real you and the you I’ve been talking to is a character. It’s not a knock, just an observation.”

“Maybe you just haven’t asked me the right questions. Have you considered that?”

He smiled, an honest smile sparking in his eyes.

“You don’t like to lose do you?”

“Haven’t so far so why start now! So ask me... I can tell you are dying to. Based on the lack of taxis in this backwards town I am at your mercy... for now.”

...

I finally crept back to Sarah’s just after six, my shoes in my hand, my breath held as I silently padded into the flat.

My mind was awhirl, foremost in my head the fact that I had to strip all traces of Her from my body before Sarah woke. Unlike Max who had wavered blindly before asking me the questions he wanted to, Sarah would take one look at me like this and move in for the kill. I’d be lying if I said that a major part of me didn’t want that; I needed to share my life with someone other than Jules but my relationship with Sarah was still so new that I couldn’t risk it. Even knowing her ‘literary’ secrets as I did; maybe one day but not now.

Elvis snuffled around my ankles and I tickled his ears, grateful for the welcome. Sneaking around was second nature and I was soon enough myself again, my secret self hidden once again in my suitcase as I padded to the kitchen to fill the kettle.

Waiting for it to boil I stared out of the window, focusing on the sea before me. Infinite, majestic, unparalleled in its ability to rage and still.

As a child I had been fascinated by nature; my Father had loved to regale me with facts about the world around me. “Remember Katie, people make wars but Nature... nature is stronger than that. Earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis... Mother Nature shouldn’t be messed with. Nature can be far more destructive than man could ever dream of. You must always respect the world around you.”

He had passed when I was in my teens, and was still probably part of the reason I held people at least arm’s length, yet I always remembered his musings. Along the way I’d revised them to fit my own ends; nature now was less about the elements and more about people but it remained true. There were things out there stronger than you or me; lusts, passions, peccadilloes, and persuasions, the secrets that drive a man to slake his lusts, and the secrets that keep me in work.

...

Settling on the pullout bed I blew on my tea and had a Humphrey Bogart moment, of all the bars in all the world, Max had to walk into mine. Over the course of the evening I had learnt much about him.

Now married with a small child, he worked for the Royal Mail as an administration drone and hated it. He adored his daughter, somewhat liked his wife and stayed up to the early hours each night writing what he hoped would be the next great novel.

At that I now scoffed, remembering his adoration of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” and never understanding the appeal of a tale about such spoilt brats. At such moments he’d stared at me and I then shrugged, reminding him of the fact that apparently we all have a novel inside us. He’d smile and I recalled how I’d sat beside him years before as he typed, his face scrunched up in concentration as he toiled created his magnum opus, fuelled beyond everything else in his desire to write, to create something greater than he believed himself to be. I would watch him, fascinated, aroused and mildly disgruntled at being so universally ignored but then he would include me, asking me for the right word or spelling. In those moments, I felt more a part of him than when we made love, linked to him on a different level. My body, I have since learnt painfully, can belong to anyone for the right price but only Max could engage my mind. Aside from Jules and now Sarah, no-one else really talks to me, or seems to care that I have feelings or a brain. For each of those quiet moments when he would blink at me, including me on his journey, I felt part of something greater. Something I believed would last forever. Nothing does sadly but seeing him here now, talking to him as I once used to, I almost felt the frozen shards of my hardened heart begin to thaw with the glow of something familiar. Of course, he had no idea now what I was thinking, of who I truly was but as he kept talking I assumed he found me interested; which of course, I was.

As the hours passed and I slowly relaxed I found myself offering tentative glimpses into my world. When he asked me what I did I found no reason to lie. His shock was palpable. I’d smiled and asked him why it should be a surprise considering what he’d seen me earlier do. Why the teasing of one man in a back street pub should be acceptable whilst the flagellation of another with a whip as his limbs strained beneath his bonds should not. He’d stared at me, his mouth open and his breathing growing rapidly heavier.

...

The sun began its ascent and Max paid our bill. I smiled at my waitress, winking as she waved goodbye. Slowly we walked down the road , the scattered streetlights throwing lightness onto certain spectrums of the asphalt road and shrouded others in darkenss. No cars passed at all, our journey together heralded by the spluttering streetlights alone. For a second, I yearned for London, its eclectic ambiance shrouded in the bright lights, no shadows visible as neon after neon shrouded our bodies with whiter than white light. No-one is invisible there, everyone spotlighted by the brightness of the stores, bars and streetlights. And the noise. London is a cacophony of cabs and cars, people and clubs, yet here, even the noisiest of bars barely registered to me. We walked slowly , not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth radiating from each other. He’d stopped , pulling me back as I moved forwards. I slowly spun into his arms.