Neil walked to the restaurant, west on the Bow River pathway. The autumn evening was clear, clean, and cool, and the aspen and poplars were beginning to turn to golden hues. It wasn't far, and he wondered if she knew that. Had she asked him his address? Had he told her? The last weekend's meeting was a blur, a distant happening and he, at times, had wondered if he had just dreamed it. He had done some reading on BDSM since then, and he realized that he had been treated very badly, but had been lucky in that the wounds healed well. If this ever happened to him again, he would seek medical help to make sure that everything healed. No, he thought, he would demand a "safe word" so that this would never happen again. Not with anyone, especially Alena. Alena, such a sweet and gentle name, such a dominant, reckless, and evil woman. He would end it tonight. The chain would come off, and he would be free.
His thoughts raced through him as he walked, the emerald green of the mountain river running in the opposite direction. He wore black pants and a black shirt, and even a black tie tonight. He had never been so bland or bold, depending on one's viewpoint, in his life. As he thought about this, he suddenly stopped walking and said out loud, "Oh my God!"
It was her! He was wearing black. This was her doing. He started walking once again, the restaurant in sight, wondering what was happening to him. He had to get her to unlock the chain, but he suspected he was going to have to pay a price, and the thought of that excited him. God damn it, he thought; this was not healthy; this had to end.
He stood at the dais at the entrance to the restaurant, struggling to get used to the contrast of the darkness of the depths of the vast room with the light of the row of window tables to his right. The room was pleasurably divided into nooks and crannies where all patrons could achieve the feeling of privacy and intimacy. Before the hostess arrived, he spotted Alena in the far west corner at the window, staring dreamily out over the river, a glass of white wine in front of her. He walked towards her, noting once again her exquisiteness, such an absolute stunning creature.
She saw him and smiled, standing up and coming to him, embracing in the middle of the room. There was that smell of her again and his breath left him momentarily, the smell of perfume and leather, the essence of her, the look of her, dressed in black of course. In fact she looked identical to the first time he met her, the little black dress, black hose, black stilettos. Black on porcelain skin, a contrast like shadows on a moonscape, distinct and sharp, cold and hot, sudden edges, beautiful and dangerous. He felt her corset at her waist once again and his heart raced as she thrust into him, kissing his cheek and whispering, "Your outfit pleases me."
Despite his intentions tonight, Neil kissed her cheek and whispered, "I thought it might."
They sat down in awkward silence for a few moments and to avoid eye contact, he stared around the room; it was empty but for them, as it was much too early for the normal evening diners. He brought his eyes back and they locked with hers. God, even her eyes were black on white, he thought, so intense, so powerful.
"Oh God," he said out loud.
"It's Goddess," she replied, as she laughed. He blushed and laughed as well, and the clumsiness faded.
They continued to stare at each other with complete comfort then, but were interrupted by a young server who asked if they would like to have a drink before dinner.
Without consultation, Alena said, "We'll have the Fess Parker Chardonnay please."
The server seemed surprised at her quickness and glanced furtively back and forth between the two of them and then said, "Yes Ma'am." And she swished away.
The awkwardness returned.
Neil began, "So, I don't really know that much about you, you know. What do you do?"
Alena's eyes flashed; he was sure they flashed, "I play with men, sometimes women."
"That's it? That's all you do? Like toys?" he asked, enjoying the sexual play on words.
She cast her eyes playfully upward and responded, "Yes, I guess so...like toys. I play with them until I break them."
"Really. And then what do you do with them?"
She blinked and pulled her head back as if in astonishment that he didn't know the answer, "Then I throw them away and get new ones. Or I keep them in special places for nostalgia purposes."
Neil looked at her in amazement and not a small amount of fear, "I see," he said, "You're a sick woman, you know that?"
