by Tomas, G. L.
“I don’t want to spend all night on this subject, but just know I want to only take things as far as you allow while still receiving pleasure.” I smiled. I wasn’t the best at it, so I’m sure I looked dopey to a beautiful woman like Benny. She laughed, and I’m guessing was her shield against the awkward silence that followed my smile. “Shouldn’t your pleasure be my pleasure?”
“Yes.” My smile this time more confident. “But I intend to nurture you as much as I intend to punish you. You should know what I like, and if that works for you. But most of all, I want to know what you like, and what you respond positively to so I can make that work for me.”
* * *
Now
“Anna, things are getting out of hand. Do you not trust me? Are you so devoid of faith in me that something as small as a snowstorm could tear us apart? How hard is it to see we’re divorcing one another, so we can get married! What more can I do?”
“‘What more can he do’ he says,” she replied as if she were saying it to anyone else but me. “You could’ve taken care of this weeks ago instead of waiting until the very last moment. If you were going to have me waiting for you, the least you could’ve done was take care of if through fax or email. But no. You didn’t take any of those precautions because you knew deep down you wanted to see her. I suppose now you got your wish.”
Anna continued in a heated rant about why I had no right lying to her about love when I couldn’t admit my true feelings for Benny. Feelings for Benny? Of course, they were still there, but I hardly doubt they’d resurface in our relationship. Or at least they hadn’t until now. “From the moment she stepped foot into this country, you’ve shown her nothing but concern you could never show for me. At least now I know fucking why.”
I wasn’t about to entertain the subject, but in my silence, she came to her own conclusion, the singular thought she’d been battling with since she’d known Benny was on her way here. “It’s because you can’t control me like you could her.”
“So, that’s what this is about—”
“Hasn’t this always what it’s always been about?” Her tone was defeated yet full of fire.
So, there we had it. The real reason fueling Anna’s anger.
Would she believe me that it took great courage to even share that I’d had D/s courtships? Even in the vanilla relationships that followed Benny, I’d been able to admit my kink, even to an unwilling party. The more I dated vanilla women, the harder it became to be forthright about the lived experience as a Dom. I decided Anna would be the last woman I ever shared my past with unless I was willing to go through the courting process of finding another submissive.
Deep down, I knew I’d never look. I would never intentionally replace Benny and haven’t until this day. I was loyal, vanilla or not. But in loving Anna, I was forced to endure her miseducation about the life, including the idea that a woman couldn’t be independent, strong, and submissive as if all those terms were mutually exclusive.
I respected her choice to not be submissive, but I can’t say the same about her feelings toward my need to dominate. Most my romantic life, post-Benny, was a little lacking because of it. Anna was the first woman I’d been in something tangible with for more than a few weeks. But she was still a woman confused at how her lovemaking skills hadn’t cured me of my desires. She wanted to believe I’d never have something deeper than what we shared, but forcing me to consider what that was made me realize I’d never shared something as intensely as I shared with Benny.
“I don’t know how many times you need me to say it, but I love you. Though times like this make me question it to begin with when you behave so childishly.”
“You can’t even say you love me without preconditions. You haven’t been able to say a single disparaging thing about someone you claim is from the past but can’t even just say you love me. My parents warned me that I was making a mistake falling for a Finn. But I didn’t want to believe them.”
“Now, I have to deal with them being right while you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, living out your wildest, most depraved sexual fantasies with that woman you married a million years ago. I don’t think you could have planned it more perfectly.”
Nothing I could have said would have convinced Anna, but I had to try. Not trying meant I had to admit there was truth to what she said. “Tell me what you want to do, Anna. What can I do to show you the kind of man I am?”
“You can’t!” She said despite her fatigue. “If I’m being honest, I don’t believe you want to. Why should I play second place while I have a field of men lining up to be with me? Consider what we have, what we had—finished. By the time you get back, every trace of me will be gone. As far as I’m concerned, that slut can have you.” Without saying another word, she hung up on me.
I couldn’t defend most of what she had had to say. I wasn’t a perfect man, but I thought I had at least made her feel loved and cherished in the way she needed. But maybe I just hadn’t known how to love her. I couldn’t strip her down to her true self, so how could I really know her?
I was forced to self-reflect and figure out all the ways I’d gone wrong. Maybe I just didn’t belong in a vanilla relationship. I hadn’t wanted to be lonely, but I hadn’t wanted to replace the bond I’d had with Benny. My fate as a lover, as a man, was doomed from the moment I’d tried to move on when I received separation papers.
Despite our distance, I’d had an unrealistic expectation that one day, maybe Benny and I might rekindle our flame. Having been her Dominant and she, my submissive, we’d fulfilled each other’s needs in a way no other person could have understood, but a majority of our time spent together was quite vanilla. But she hadn’t suppressed that side to me. It was free to come out whenever I needed it, and Benny welcomed it.
Knowing that, I couldn’t help thinking Anna was right.
* * *
Then
“What type of language helps get you into sub-space?” A fair question to ask, so close to our planned scene. Benny’s eyes danced, as I watched her eyes close, as her head tilted to the side to consider information. We were in our final stage. This was the last conversation we planned to have before our first scene, and while I didn’t expect every single aspect to be covered until we’d exactly experienced the moment, we were sure to bring up every boundary we weren’t meant to cross before our D/s relationship would occur.
“I know everyone is different.” She blinked. “But some language makes it hard for me to let go. Context and trust are everything. There are some things I’ve let Doms call me that I’d never let another one refer to me. I prefer specific terms.”
Plain English communication. Instead of asking her where I couldn’t go, she wanted to know where I planned to. Sub-space was different for every submissive, but I knew for me, Dom-space was relatively easy to get into once I referenced certain terms of endearment, and whether my sub responded to them positively or not.
“How do you feel about being referred to as my little slut? Would that be an acceptable term of endearment?”
“How might you use it? The closest you could get without getting into Dom-space?” Her eyes were wide and curious and ever so soft and feminine.
“Rise to your feet.” My voice stern and entitled. The intent wasn’t to bark an order before we’d agreed to anything, but to showcase enough authority to give her context. “I’m not going to ask twice.”
With that, she finally stood, and with a careful stagger, I closed in on her until I was an inch away from her face. “Do you really need that much direction? Am I going to have to teach you how to behave, until you’re used and begging to be my little slut?” I gently stroked her neck, but even now I could tell she wanted more. The tone of the room had changed. I hadn’t actually played with Benny yet, but the way her eyes glassed over, I was sure if she wasn’t in her sub-space, she was at least close enough to where I could discover my own way of getting her there.
She exhaled a deep breath, biting her lo
wer lip as I created a respectable distance between us. Benny was coming down from a high, and if I wasn’t so respectful, I would’ve very well taken advantage. “How was that?”
* * *
Now
Staring out the window was about the only thing I could do that didn’t make me feel guilty about the recent turn of events. I not only struggled with how I’d made Anna feel, I regretted how I’d settled things in the past.
I should have fought for Benny. At least half as much as I had tried to fight for Anna to prove I wasn’t still in love with my ex-wife. Current wife.
So much time had been lost. By now, our situation was broken. Where did we even go from here? The questions were easier to ask than the answers I would never get. Right now, I just wish I could forget.
“Care to indulge?”
Being stuck in my own head, I hadn’t even realized Benny had wandered off. From the looks of it, her hands were full from my basement, as she’d found a home in my spirits collection and brought what could take the edge off. She didn’t choose lightly either.
In Benny’s hand, she held a bottle of Salmiakkikossu, a salty licorice commonly eaten in Finland, which we’d found a way to infuse in vodka and brandy. A decent choice that was sure to get me to a place of forgetting.
“Why not? We’re stuck here,” I said indifferently. “I’ll go get the glasses—”.
But she would have no such thing. Benny shook her head, insisting if I were really as tough as she remembered, I could handle it from the bottle instead. It was clear her memory of me was still sharp. Being a Finn in a foreign place, often the only way I could ever say more than a few words to someone I wasn’t actively trying to Dom, always required a bit of liquid courage.
The more I grew confident in my relationship with Benny, the more I didn’t need to down my weight in alcohol. But in times like this, I’d say it called for a change of heart. Benny took a gulp of the bottle she’d retrieved from the cellar, as she nearly choked on the fire the Finnish liqueur left in the back of her throat.
“Silly American. Salmiakki is for Finns,” My attempt at dry humor. I took the bottle from her and did the same. It was harsh, but I could handle it in my broken state. The more I drank, the more comfortable I got with things that were on my mind. “I should probably slow down. I wouldn’t want you to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state.” Another attempt at a joke.
Benny just coughed through a laughed and asked, “What vulnerable state?”
I hadn’t wanted to say things this soon, but with nothing else to talk about, I couldn’t keep the news to myself long. Benny would find out anyway, right? Depending on how long it took to get help, surely she’d notice when Anna made no attempt to call me.
“I spoke with Anna earlier. From my understanding, our wedding is off.”
Benny sensed I wasn’t joking and tried to assure me it was all in my head. If only it were that simple.
“As far as she’s concerned, our entire relationship is over. I really fucked up this time.”
“I’m sure I had a lot to do with that—”
“Don’t.” I wasn’t about to let her take the blame for our problems, no matter how convenient. “Anna and I had problems way before you came along. I didn’t expect them to get better, but I wanted to make her happy. Every attempt was met with hostility—which I deserve. But calling off our wedding? Telling me our relationship was through. Call me a cynic, but a bigger part of me is just…relieved.”
I didn’t want to admit that, not to Benny. Making her feel like she’d caused my relationship to crumble was bad enough, but admitting I hadn’t wanted to go through with it in the first place showed that all the work I’d made being a better partner in the years she’d known me had all gone to shit.
I wasn’t a better man than when she’d known me and I was ashamed. The best parts of me she’d fallen in love with were now nearly non-existent. It didn’t matter if she’d found another love, she still looked at me with loving eyes as if she had sympathy for me, sympathy what had happened between Anna and me. Thinking was becoming a problem for me. What I needed now, more than ever was more liqueur.
14
Benny
Ugh, my head was pounding. It’d been so long since I’d had anything stronger than a diet Coke that despite my strong will, I could barely open my eyes. If I didn’t have a reason before now that I should slow down while I’m ahead, a hangover was definitely the sign I needed. Why did I think I could handle drinking with a Finn?
Of all the mistakes I’ve made over the years, of all my greatest regrets, even at my emotional worst, I’d never felt like this. Take a deep breath, Benny. Even though your head is as heavy as a boulder, you still have to open your eyes. Opening your eyes lead to sitting up. Sitting up lead to standing, and standing led you to rehydrating yourself so that you can walk this off. You got this.
I fought myself so much internally, I hadn’t realized that in the physical world, something was off. My throbbing forehead hadn’t let me feel anything until now, but now that I made myself conscious of my surroundings, the harder it’d been to get up without resistance.
Long, slender arms draped across my body, as a hand came next to the back of my head, seemingly drawing me in close. My weight cemented Olli’s body to the couch, as our legs tangled as if it belonged to a talented weaver.
Had I really been this drunk? To be so comfortable, to cross a boundary I hadn’t meant to cross? It was bad enough after I’d come all the way out here, I’d become the boogeyman of Anna’s nightmares. Now I lay here, in the arms of the only man I’d actually loved, giving her even more reasons to hate me further.
This made no sense. I wasn’t that type of person. I couldn’t have done more than get a little tipsy and fall asleep in a less than favorable position. We were still dressed; that was a good sign. But I had to untangle myself to investigate more. Make sure no more lines were broken.
I had managed to pull myself from Olli’s embrace with just enough care so I didn’t wake him. His face was angelic, pale and child-like as he slept through the shuffle. I couldn’t help caressing and admiring that beautiful face before I’d completely pulled away.
It’d only been a few years, but he hadn’t aged much aside from light crow’s feet near his closed eyes. The weird thing was his oddly attractive features appeared more mainstream in his sleep. To remember what it was like waking up to that face every morning that put me in both a place of happiness and a place of remorse.
I had to put a healthy distance between me and that couch, just so I could stop thinking about him that way. My first thought was to check the first window that came into view, just to see if the weather had let up. Then I remember this is Finland. I shouldn’t have been as surprised that not only had the snow not stop, it’d gotten worse since last night.
The only watch I’d had on me read 9:46, so I could only assume it was early in the morning. My plane was supposed to leave two and a half hours from now, but the snow didn’t even look like it could be plowed in that small window of time, let alone get me to the airport. With weather like this, the flights were higher than likely canceled.
I was supposed to be leaving my marriage and Olli in my rearview. Out of his life for good. So why were all these strange occurrences happening?
“Urgh.” The aggravated groan came from the couch I once lay, and behind it, Olli rubbed his head, standing to his full, intimidating six-foot-four inches.
“You okay?” I called out, as he ignored me and dragged his feet toward his kitchen. The wooden floors creaked, as 198 lbs. of him explored the room he’d found refuge in, and he didn’t come out until he brought a jar of strange liquid with him. “I’m not as young as I used to be,” he said in English after he’d just swore in Finnish.
“Take this for your hangover,” He held the weird yet edible jar in my direction, expecting for me to take it.
With my best attempt at sounding as level headed as I appeared, I asked: “How wo
uld you know if I have a hangover?”
His virescent eyes blazed a deep green, as he put the jar in my hand as if no wasn’t an option. “Benny, I am Finnish. If I have a hangover, then you have a hangover. I wouldn’t be a Finn if I didn’t have my own remedy for this type of thing.”
If Olli had a remedy for a massive headache, who was I to refuse such a gift. I had ignored the pain for a minute or two, but if it could be gone in less time than I anticipated, I would drink anything to dull the pain. “The taste is off-putting at first, but if you drink it down with no breaks, it’s easier.”
The unknown jar of liquid hadn’t had any particular odor, so I figured it wouldn’t be as bad going down. One sip later, I had instantly regret no swallowing it in one gulp, as Olli had suggested. Sensation burned my ears, back of my throat, and hell—nearly all my sinuses, as Olli sat at the edge of the arm of his couch, watching in dull amusement. “You are so dramatic.”
Relieved I had downed the last of it in record speed despite a bad first impression, I wiped my tears away and put the jar down. “I drank what tasted like an ogre’s toenails, baby vomit, the blood of a virgin, with just a touch of lemon. I think I have the right to be dramatic.”
“Well,” His tone indifferent, his face as straightforward as I’d known it to be. “It is hard to find good ogre toenails.” He ended with a smile that felt genuine despite the circumstance. “How do you feel?”
Despite the taste, the homemade hangover cure had worked within minutes. I wouldn’t be surprised if the pain was completely gone by the hour. I gave a thumbs up but didn’t speak, as I was still processing the unique tastes that made the cure come to be. “I’d be better if this weather hadn’t wasted so much time. I’m supposed to be on a plane in two hours. What am I supposed to do?”