Jack

"Don't try to talk yet."

She held me for a while after that, stroking my body and whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

"Ok, you should be good to listen, but you probably still shouldn't talk. Tap me twice if you don't understand something."

She paused.

"What you just experienced was a form of subspace, in this case an endorphin rush caused by submitting yourself to and embracing a certain kind of pain. You did a great job, little sub, and I hope you enjoyed that experience as much as I did.

I started to ask a question, and this time she let me.

"Does this mean that I'm a sub now?" She flashed the cheshire grin I'd last seen when she first captured my submission.

"Only in relation to me."

I struggled to find the right words.

"But... If I like getting hurt, and I like losing power, then I-" She cut me off.

"Look, this is a longer discussion for another time, but you're probably a switch, the same way I am. Or you're a sub who's felt a societal obligation to act like a dom. In which case you'd have spent the last few years lying to yourself, and I would have to punish you for that."

I shuddered as she continued.

"In either case, this place will help you figure it out. The Runaway is where we escape the constraints of the outside world, and become who we're meant to be. If you stick around, you'll find out what that means."

I inhaled her scent one more time, then lifted my head and looked around the room. House music was gently bleeding in from the dance floor in the other room. Here, people of every variety were in every stage of play. From pet play, to violent beatings, to complex rope suspensions. Even so, there was a warmth across the space, a certain comfort the attendees seemed to feel just from being here.

I leaned my head back into Charlie's chest. The rest of the space didn't interest me for now, and the outside world's challenges were starting to creep their way back into my consciousness. But one thing was for sure: I would be coming back to The Runaway for a long, long time.