03.

The week passes by like any other before. Torn between three jobs – neither would guarantee Josephine a carefree living. Life is expensive, especially in New York. Her mind always circles around the next bill that needs to be paid and the fear there might pop up any unforseen costs.

Thursday is almost over and her gut feeling reminds her she’s due to leave for the club. He might be there. His friend for sure told him I only visit Thursdays. Why should he come? He seemed not really amused or interested last time. I’m just stupid to think he...well, I’d like to know more.

She rips herself out off that train of thoughts and decides she shouldn’t deny herself the pleasure. Pleasure? Do I really get pleasure out of all of this?! Even the pain is still there – no relief.

***
The tall, very thin guy she just granted an extended whipping creeps towards her black boots and kisses the tips devotedly. His bare back is covered with numerous, flaming red marks. It’s like she carried out all her pent up anger and disappointment on him.

„Mistress, you’ve outdone yourself tonight! I’m not worthy but I thank you, thank you, thank you!“

She wonders for a moment when she met him before. Then it dawns her that he perhaps just sees ‚a’ mistress and not her persona. Still – she’s curious.
„You must have been very bad. I even can’t remember your lousy figure.“
„Oh, Mistress Joséphine, I’m heartbroken! Three weeks ago. You were so delightfully distant, so majestic, so...“ „Alright, stop it! I think I’ve got you.“ The man still cowers at her feet, waiting for her last administrations. She starts to remember slowly. Must have been the night she had a terrible headache. Plus I start to erase things from my conscience again!

Being on her own again she takes a water from the mini bar and downs it with a few gulps. Lecturing somebody the way she does here is exhausting. Looking at her mobile the clock already shows 2.30 am. He won’t come.

When she gets up and turns around she nearly falls over her own feet. There he stands. No latex this time. Tight, black leather jeans, accompained by a similar waist enhancing jacket over bare skin. It’s none he usually wears. It’s too soft, clinging to his toned body like a second skin. The leather mask is different as well. It just surrounds his eye region, granting her a view onto his beautiful, short, dark hair. A few silvery threads tell he’s not a twen anymore though his body immediately makes one forget he’s close to 50. You’re a mature, delicious male – and you should know meanwhile what you want.

Without a word he slowly approaches her, bows and then places a long stem, white rose at her feet, going to his haunches. She feels the urge to grab him by his shoulders and pulling him back up.
You don’t belong down on the floor!

Lost for words she lightly touches his shoulder with the riding crop she still wears in one of her long boots and absentmindedly slipped out. Their eyes meet and she experiences the ground shaking under herself again. He must recognize me! It’s like I’m standing naked in front of him.

„You have been staring at my wrist last time.“ His musky, dark voice lingers in the black-crimson room, kinda echoes back from the walls. After a little, awkward pause he continues. „I kept thinking of you all week.“ His expression is quizzical. „May I sit down?“ She nods, still in shock. He picks up the rose and offers it directly now. „Don’t you like it?“ She swallows hard.
„It reminds me of death.“ Blurting this out she realizes how much she’s out off her role. He doesn’t reply yet it’s obvious his mind is busy. Taking a seat on the black ottoman he pats next to him. She cocks her brows, trying to return to her Mistress-self, and stays where she is.

„Experiencing kinda painful death...isn’t that why we’re all here?“ He tries to mesmerize her view. She at once knows he’s not talking about the ordinary kinky stuff. „I could help you die.“
She lets the riding crop slip to the ground with a thud. His expression turns softer recognizing the horror in the woman’s agate-blue eyes. „Rebirth is a powerful thing.“, he adds.
Her fingers start trembling, even in those tight, long leather gloves. She tries to hide them, placing them next to her hips onto the soft surface of the stretch bank, fingers moderately digging into the shiny material at first. Why do I listen to him?! Why don’t I just tell him to leave?

Strange enough his words sound familiar, even make some sort of sense. Usually she’s the verbose one but now she can’t even think straight enough to retort anything sensible. Him being aware of it doesn’t make it better. How could he flip tables on her?

„Do you remember what I asked you last time?“ Now he definitely waits for an answer. Not only her brain is buzzing.
„If I was...brave enough to hold you captive.“ She drowns in his dark eyes, holding her breath.
„Are you?“ He lets his looks flick around the room. She doesn’t want to appear weak but he knows better.
„Why did you come back? I had the impression you didn’t get what you wanted last time.“ Feeling still uncomfortable she goes on, knowing there’s not much to loose now. „You...I thought...“ Hell, I don’t believe I stutter like a school girl now!!
„I was getting more than I expected, believe me. You’re not the one you want to make people believe here. It’s very easy to kick you out off your role. You’re a lousy Mistress cause it’s not what you’re made for. You’re looking for your peace of mind at the wrong spot in this wicked universe. Oh, you have that dark, bitter-sweet side in your personality – yet I’m really confused to be honest.“ He brushes over his lower lip.
„But how...?“ „Aren’t you able to answer that question for yourself? You’re the same, I could see it in your eyes.“ His expression turns stern. „I felt it.“ He gently touches the white petals of the rose she refused to accept, that rests next to him on the seat. „You might have some dirty fantasies and needs, but your soul is innocent like a child – a lost child.“ He faces her again. „Like my daughter.“

She can’t take it any longer, fighting with her tears.
„Please, go.“ Her voice is shaky and she feels the urge to run, run him over and flee as far as her feet would carry her.
„I’m sorry for being cruel. I wasn’t sure how to get through to you, but I managed obviously.“ He gets up, adjusting his tight leather pants that strangle certain parts in his crotch kind of. He’s not hard though. Does he know or not?

Watching her with that certain, melancholic expression he lifts his hand into her direction, letting it fall again, realizing it’s not really fitting the situation. Will you come back? He can read it in her eyes.

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