I didn't press. But I did say I was curious why he had been at the first party. He didn't seem like a theatre aficionado. As much as I felt comfortable in this scene, he seemed sorely out of place.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek as he admitted he'd noticed me at Starbucks and had asked one of my coworkers about me. She'd let out the secret that I was a theatre student and had an upcoming show. And to further assuage my concerns, he said that he was more in his element here than I could imagine.
He asked if I had any more questions. I shook my head, distracted by his dark gaze and lingering touch on my face. We escaped to my apartment where we once more had great sex. And he spanked me until I was putty in his hands.
Jimmy was gone before morning again. It was a week later when he dropped in at work. He insisted on sticking around until my shift ended. He took a seat where I couldn't see him, but I knew he must be watching me—I could feel it—which was a little distracting. And a bit exciting.
The next morning was his same routine. But he'd left a note to meet up for lunch this time. I smiled and felt a little giddy inside.
Could this be more than just a fling? Was I wanting more than that? As much as I'd not liked his disappearances and indeterminable lengths of absence, part of his allure was his spontaneous arrivals and seductions.
Would I see him again? Where and when? If we started dating regularly, would I be as into him?
He convinced me in the end that we should give it a shot—albeit I was over his knee at the time, and he said he wouldn't continue spanking me until I agreed.
I was busy with finishing up the semester, so we only saw each other on the weekends. He introduced me to a secret erotic club, and we became regular patrons. I looked forward to the time with him, even if we were just listening to music so loud you could barely think much less talk. The spankings seemed to relieve a lot of stress on my part, and having sex with him was amazing. Plus, he opened my mind up to the realm of possibilities we could explore within BDSM.
At the end of the school year, the lease on my apartment was up. He suggested we move in together. It would save me money and give us more time together. So I packed up my belongings in my meager studio apartment and moved to his much bigger loft.
CHAPTER TWO
It was fun at first. I got more hours at the coffee shop and took on a summer course, but my evenings were mostly free to spend with him. We fucked whenever we could. There were lots of spankings and new experiences, including some light bondage. Not to mention he paid all of the rent and utilities. It was a good arrangement for me all around.
He never explained the various roles within BDSM and what the significance of each role was. He just said that he had certain fetishes. When I gave him control to embrace them with me, I was being submissive to his directions, which pleased him. I wanted to please him. But I would soon realize that being his sub left me with less control that I'd bargained for. Much less.
Our relationship grew more intense as I entered my final year at the conservatory. I was asking him to spank me harder so I could reach my high. He introduced flogging, which was amazing. Then a riding crop. When he brought home clamps one day, I had an orgasm as soon as he applied them to my nipples. I was in ecstasy. He was more than happy to appease me.
In retrospect, I had made a mistake by telling him that I liked the pain he inflicted. I discovered that his sadistic tendencies far surpassed my masochistic ones, terms I also didn't understand until far later. The memories of those last sessions with him would haunt me for years. I was so naïve.
I graduated and got my degree just over a year into the relationship, not counting the first two months since I had met him. Things noticeably went downhill. It wasn't like the summer before.
I was cast in the chorus line for a new musical. Jimmy told me to turn it down and wait for a lead role like I had in the second play he saw me in. I argued that one didn't start out professionally like that. I had to work up from the bottom. He said he understood more than I knew and dropped the subject.
I ended up quitting my job at Starbucks due to rehearsal times. I'd been afraid to tell Jimmy. Surprisingly, he had been okay with it.
Two weeks before opening night, the director suddenly decided to reduce the members of the chorus line. I was one of the three who were cut. I swear, Jimmy seemed pleased. Now I didn't have any source of income. How was that good news?
I had no proof, but the more I pondered the situation, I think he orchestrated the change that had me cut from the play. Not because he thought I deserved more. But because he wanted me to see that he was in charge.
It took some time, but I found a job with a local improv troupe. It didn't pay well, but it did pay. Jimmy was not pleased that I hadn't asked him first, especially since the troupe performed every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night. Those were his club nights. He seemed appeased, though, when I told him
