But I can be a big idiot who often forgets what his girlfriend is really like. Behind her sophisticated demeanor is a wild woman who has a lot of shit she likes to take out in the bedroom. Sometimes I’ve let her dabble with me. For the year we’ve been together, she’s told me she’s content exploring the submissive side she never let herself indulge for so long.
Then I come to Paris and end up staring at her phone, currently covered in BDSM pictures, articles, and – you guessed it – videos.
I stare at a picture of a man bound and gagged while a woman dressed in hardcore gear paddles his ass and screams something at him. There’s so much anger and relief expressed in one image. It would be fascinating to look at if I didn’t know what it meant in the current context.
The picture disappears as her phone goes back to sleep. I had come in here with the intent of fooling around with her, if she would have me, but now I think I’ll leave a note and head back out for some fresh air. I need to digest what I’ve seen.
Paris is one of those cities where the tourists can be really insufferable. Usually I can ignore it because I’m with a beautiful woman to distract my heart and loins, but for the first time since I can remember, I’m alone. Wandering the streets. Snapping pictures of sites. Thinking about going to the Louvre even though Kathryn and I had planned on going tomorrow.
“No, no, make a different face.” A British woman implores her boyfriend to also change his position before they take their selfie with the Eiffel Tower. “Okay! Time to upload to Instagram!”
This city feels so empty without my girlfriend by my side.
You know what really sucks? I keep thinking about last night. Before my scene with Kathryn. I had been so determined to dominate her to prove a point to myself. And to Martin, the fucker that drove me to that point to begin with.
“You really can’t make her happy, can you?”
Somewhere right now in Paris there’s a man sitting on a bench, grimacing, hands forming fists in his pockets. That someone would be me.
I’ve always known this day would come. The day where I have to face what it truly means to be Kathryn Alison’s lover.
She’s a Domme, fuckhead. Those words play themselves in my voice. The few times I’ve dabbled with the other side of BDSM already felt like enough boundary pushing. I’ve never had the drive to submit like her other subs have. Martin is the kind of guy who gets so off on it he doesn’t know any other way of life. Good for him. Normally that doesn’t mean anything to me. I do things my way, male subs do things theirs.
Some Dommes completely turn to vanilla relationships or go all the way sub. Some become professional switches for fun and profit. Where does Katie fall on that spectrum?
It’s so late back home that I know better than to call. Instead, I fire off a text message.
“Hi. Can you do me a favor when you wake up…? Don’t tell Kathryn, please.”
It’s those kinds of texts to women that can get a guy in trouble. Or hard, depending on what he gets back. In my case, I get something back an hour later, when I’m wandering around a supermarket… the worst place to open my phone to see an image of my girlfriend dressed in bondage gear and smacking some poor sod’s dick.
Once upon a time, I made a promise to myself. That promise was Don’t watch porn that freaks you out, man. Hey, I’m a guy. A lot of guys watch porn. Not as much when I’m in a happy relationship, but once in a while a video crosses your path that makes you go Wow. That’s hot.
I don’t know how I feel about this.
That text I sent earlier went to Eva. She and I don’t communicate much outside of Kathryn’s apartment when we both happen to be there. Our friendly relationship only exists because of Kathryn. Otherwise, I don’t have much in common with her best friend, who is also a Domme… and who doesn’t like me, as far as I can tell.
Anyway, I had asked her to send me any photos or videos she had of Kathryn being a Domme. I had seen her strutting her stuff around The Dark Hour, but I had never seen her in action. Just the occasional leg rub to some naked male sub or drunken cackles while another Domme put on a show for the public’s pleasure. Kathryn and I don’t talk about that side of her very much. I don’t know if it’s because she’s uncomfortable, or if she thinks I’m uncomfortable.