Fish Out Of Water Ch. 01

"Never take more than they request Kate. Never push for more than they can give." Jules' words echoed in my ears as I slowly moved towards the door, Max's body lurching slowly towards sleep, "You are not the end Kate, you are merely the means. You give them what they need but you are not necessarily what they want. And the sooner you realise that, the saner you will be. You can't hold yourself accountable"

I stared back, drinking Max in, remembering the times we'd wrapped around each other, so deeply entwined you couldn't tell one from the other. His body buried so deep inside me, I couldn't breathe from the sensation of fullness. And then I recalled the times he'd sent me away, fearful his flatmate would find me there, unwilling to explain my presence. How he'd laughed as his friends had referred to me as his girlfriend, how he'd pleaded with them to never tell his one true love about his shameful secret.

His little faerie of a dreamgirl may have ignited him then, but I had truly set him on fire tonight. No shame, no fear. He asked and I had answered. He may have felt ashamed of me then, and maybe his angst had set me headlong onto the path I strode now, but nonetheless, together Max and I had shared something deeply fulfilling tonight, something that had undoubtedly changed us both.

Holding myself taller than ever, I turned to him ,naked, resplendent and almost asleep on the bed. Nothing in all my years of debauchery and pain had ever made me feel as enlightened as the few hours that had just passed. I hadn't reached the levels of orgasm that I knew I could, but feeling Max shatter around me; I felt bigger and brighter than I'd ever previously felt. More satiated, more complete. It was a different woman walking out the door from the one who had entered it.

"Just remember Max... if you don't ask... you'll never get. God bless."

As the door hit the frame, I could have sworn I heard him say "Thank you Katie."

...

Sarah cried as I packed; begged me to stay a little longer, promised to take some more leave from work. Even Elvis seemed to beg, his delightfully squashed face looking even more determined than usual. I smiled, petting him and hugging her, promising to return soon. I repeated my new mantra "I am not running away... I am not running away." But I was. I'd fled here at the behest of Jules, the only person I trusted, and found another person who loved me with the same intensity, Sarah. I wouldn't leave it so long again, especially now she knew the whole story.

The morning after Max, I'd crept home and she was awake, pottering around in her robe like an anxious mother hen. One look at my tear streaked face and she was in full on warrior mode, determined to break whoever had made me cry. Never cross a trained Army Nurse who fences for relaxation. I had a brief vision of her piercing Max with her foil, her robe fluttering in the breeze. My brave warrior, my friend. After an age of calming her, I'd foolishly removed my coat and the real fun had begun. Her shock at my attire was almost comical and had I had the energy, I would have laughed. As it was I simply sagged beside her on her whiter than white sofa and sighed. Exhausted and bereft, I told her the truth.

...

Every sordid, splendid juicy detail; not just of Max, but of my life. She didn't even blink and I swear; she seemed to be enjoying it. Even when I changed into my fleecy pyjamas, she sat, still, asking me the kind of questions that made me feel I was standing before a Hague Committee. I answered each one determined to not fear her responses.

So I was some kind of freak, a sexual animal, hell bent of pushing the boundaries. Sarah listened me and didn't seem to care. She never once questioned the things I'd done, never questioned my actions. She asked me how I'd gotten into this life and as I explained she'd smiled, accepting my words as true. I didn't know what I needed but I knew I could give others what they desired, even if it left me wanting. Sarah had hugged me, her soft voice urging me to find my own peace and that was it. No anger, no vitriol, just acceptance. If anyone knew what it meant to sacrifice oneself to give another happiness it was her, and for the first time in years, I felt acceptance.

...

Sitting on the overnight train to London, I felt the relief slowly embellish my skin. Back to Jules, back to the world I knew, yet Sarah's support and belief in me held me close. She didn't find me broken or strange, and her bright-eyed gaze as I'd detailed some of my more extreme activities made me think she wasn't as vanilla as I'd originally believed. She been wrapt as I talked, asking me question after question, genuinely intrigued by my answers. Fascinated actually, wanting to know how it had felt to have so much control. No matter what came next, I had the skill and drive to make my partners yield to me, to give them the end result for which they yearned. Pain, passion, shame, absolution, pleasure, all of which She could give. If I chose to allow her.

And whilst She was the absolute, I was still me; Max had shown me that. I didn't have to draw blood, or urge screams out into the air. I could still bring pleasure even at my lowest setting. He had shown me that I was still capable of feeling.

...

"I think maybe you're done Kate... maybe you've seen and done enough. I could be wrong but if what you've told me is true, maybe you're ready to get out of this life. You cared about him, wanted him to be happy. You didn't even break his skin! Shit Kate, you still love him! This life isn't for you! I hate to say it; hate to let you go but I'm not insane. If you can feel what you did, feel anything ... then fuck! Maybe there's even hope for me?!"

I stared at Jules, hating him for saying it but knowing he was right. It wasn't about pain or control or domination anymore. It was about something more for me, namely acceptance. Of belonging. I couldn't keep chasing the next thrill, the next buzz; I'd be running forever. My evening with Max had proved that I was capable of emotion, of love. Maybe I was capable of being vanilla after all, of fitting in to the daylight hours, of being generic. I didn't know because I hadn't tried it for years. Content to lurk in the twilight hours and dole out my patented dark passion with aplomb, regardless of the vacumn it created in me. Jules hugged me, promising me he'd always be there for me but urging me to try a different path. We both cried, my tears foreign to me as I promised him I'd try.

And Max...

He never made contact, never came down to London to see me. Not that that he would have found me, even if he'd looked for Kate.

I'd like to think I gave him what he wanted, made him brave enough to ask his wife to take him as I had.

We'll see.

...

Monday I start my new job. In an actual office, 9-5 with an hour for lunch. God help me! One of Sarah's friends had a vacancy for an Office Manager and back in the old days, before I relinquished spreadsheets and biros for buttplugs and whips I had been a highly efficient if sexually deprived office administrator. I'm fairly certain she lied through her teeth about my abilities to get me the interview but somehow I landed the job anyway. Fate, as strong as Mother Nature in her worldly ways has offered me something I could never have imagined. Well fate and my tenacious cousin. It seems the sea air agreed with me after all. Sea air, a best friend and the unwavering love of an adorably grumpy French bulldog.

I don't intend to get in touch with Max although there's a good chance we'll run into each other at some point. If that happens, we'll see. I don't want him as a lover but I do miss him as a friend. His words, our talks, those moments melded from weeks ago and years long past, it all reminds me of who I used to be; the girl I suppressed for too long. Being around Max, she floated to the surface and finally I believe that Kate is the powerful force, that She is no longer my guide. Whatever happens next I have to believe that I can handle it. I can give and I can take and ultimately, whatever occurs is mine to decide.

...

Packing for the move had been interesting to say the least. Sarah drove up to help me and we made short work of putting my meagre belongings into boxes. Mostly clothes and shoes and books. After sharing a bottle of wine I opened my spare room and showed her my 'work' clothes, still nervous on some level with her seeing the very worst. Sarah shrieked as she took it all in, the leather, the latex, the straps and harnesses. She ran out and I honestly thought she was going to leave but she shocked me by returning with a second bottle and we drank it as we packed my old life away. I had planned on giving it away but Sarah had wrinkled her noise, pleading with me to put in storage. "Just in case... besides can you imagine anyone wanting a used dildo?!", I'd cocked an eyebrow and we both snickered like teenagers at the idea. I for one knew of lots of people who would but still.

After several hours, two bottles of Shiraz and lots of laughter Sarah blurted out that she wanted to try something on and after several failed attempts at getting her into a latex dress we gave up, too wasted to manage to co-ordinate our efforts. She made me pack a few of my less risqué outfits to take with me "For clubbing!" and we ordered a pizza, sitting and chatting away like we hadn't just spent 2 hours packing dildos and fetish wear into cardboard boxes. It was so normal it should have left me cold but sitting in the remains of my old life I felt free, eager to see what happened next. I'd felt as if I was finally being the young woman I was meant to be, just doing what made me happy without always thinking about someone else's pleasure. Bliss.

...

Maybe I can be vanilla, maybe I can't. Perhaps control is part of my make-up and I'll never be able to escape that part of me. But I should try. And if I can't, I know of at least one place where they'll be open to my style of punishment. If I chose to seek it out. Maybe I will, or maybe I'll try something different. Or just maybe, I can find a way to meld the two halves of my personality and enjoy the simple things in life. I'd truly loved my life in the early years but as with all things, I'd become jaded, sleepwalking through situations that had once aroused me beyond words. Sarah thinks I'm just growing up, entering a new stage of my life. Personally I think she may be right but I also think she's got her eye on my toys. Dirty little minx.

Yesterday I went shopping with Sarah. She looks amazing in PVC and girl can weld a whip. Unsurprisingly she was nowhere near as shocked by our excursion as you'd imagine, in fact she was positively giddy as she touched the tactile outfits and accessories. Seeing her wide eyed admiration of her leather-clad form sent me headlong into a melee of memories, of Jules teaching me how to dress, how to stand. Of how beautiful I felt, how strong, how potent. Jules spent weeks teaching me how to become Her, how to let my natural instincts rise to the fore but Sarah is instinctive.

A confident woman, strong and proud in her own skin. Not needing a man in the least but honest enough to admit her own needs. So she likes to read kink and wants to dress up in latex and leather, what the hell is wrong with that? It's not like she's going to run off and take over my retired Domina crown but that would be A okay with me if she did, she's just embracing her own sexuality. She looks orgasmic and I tell her, frequently and with conviction. Those hill runs have turned her body into a work of art.

And bitch brought her own talc.