Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman

by Lorelei Elstrom

  ME

  Well, what do you think?

  REGINA

  Do it tonight. Sleep like that!

  ME

  You think I should?

  REGINA

  Yes! It sounds sexy. I’d join you but I’ll have Tucker in the bed.

  (Pause)

  Wait? Does that mean you are submissive? Maybe you should actually be my slave since you like to be tied up?

  ME

  Do you have a dominant side?

  REGINA

  I don’t know. This is all so new to me. Articles about S&M in Cosmo and such have piqued my interest, but meeting you somehow brought all this stuff to the surface that I didn’t really know was so strong in me.

  I remember reading “The Story of O” when I was about 17. It’s the story of –

  ME

  … a girl who consents to being sent away to a secret S&M society to serve as a slave. It’s a very sexy book!

  REGINA

  Right. At 17, I thought the concept was ultra sexy! But I also thought regular romance novels were sexy too. I read all that stuff! But now, I feel what the “Story of O” was really about. It’s about embracing your shadow self.

  ME

  Right. So… does your shadow self have a dominant side too?

  REGINA

  I don’t know. No. I don’t think I do. That may change; but right now, I just want to be your yours. I want you to degrade me.

  What about you? If you like having your ankles tied up, maybe you have a slave side too?

  ME

  Sexuality is complex. In my fantasies, I’m both dominant and submissive. Whatever. Let’s just say I’m kinky, however you want to define it. I’ve never been as turned on as when I think about being mean to you… in our game.

  REGINA

  We need to play again.

  ME

  Yes.

  REGINA

  But for now, I need to go to bed… and I need you to tie your ankles together tonight.

  ME

  Is that an order?

  REGINA

  No, it’s a request from a loving friend.

  ME

  We have a fucked up relationship. Go watch your soap opera. Oh, and thanks for the boots!

  REGINA

  Goodnight.

  We hung up. And I did it. I had her boots on. So when I awoke this morning and felt my ankles tied together in Regina’s high boots, I took a few minutes for myself (wink, wink!) before starting the usual morning routine.

  The sun was casting its warmth across my bedspread and I could feel it all the way under the covers. In my mind, I transformed the heat of the sun into the gaze of Regina watching me. I could feel her eyes generating warmth onto me as she stared. She watched me get my hands into position, despite the fact that I couldn’t open my legs. As I began to caress myself, she crossed her legs and leaned back to take it all in. I rubbed deep. Then, as I was getting close, I saw her uncross her legs and put her hands between her own legs. She looked as turned on as I was. She put on some Ray-Ban’s so I couldn’t see her eyes anymore. My breath and heart were racing, as were hers. We were both completely enthralled with the moment. At the same instant, we both burst out in ecstasy. Passion was burning. Lava was coursing though my veins. I felt alive!

  As I slowly came down, Regina in Ray-Ban’s was gone. There was just an empty chair. But I had a warm smile on my face because I knew she had really been there with me. She was inside me… even though she was probably getting ready for work.

  And now I had to get to work. That took a little longer than I wanted, but who cares? What a way to start a day! And things would even get better. Tonight would be yoga. Tucker would be back at his dad’s after school and Regina could be my object again.

  Once I was at my office, I couldn’t help but text Regina several times to basically say nothing. It was just a matter of feeling a connection with her. She called me once on her lunch break. It was being in touch, feeling the energy of our new situation.

  After work, I changed for yoga and grabbed a quick bite. I wanted to get to yoga early so I could meet Regina outside upon her arrival. Sure enough, she rolled up right on time on her electric Vespa. She looked really pleased to see me waiting there for her.

  As much as I was delighted to see her and wanted to have fun together, I also found myself wanting to dominate her. I mean, we had been on the phone a good deal during the day and there wasn’t much worthy of conversation since our last call a couple hours earlier. She clearly didn’t feel that way, looking like she was game for a 4 hour talk-a-thon at a café. She was bubbling out of her own personality without having said a word.

  She jumped off her bike and ran over to give me a hug. I hugged back. It was better than any hug with a boyfriend. Her small little boobs pushed up against my bigger ones and it felt amazing. If a picture is worth a thousand words, a hug like that is worth more. It was a whole story. It told me that she trusted me, that she adored me, that she was excited to see me, and that she valued me. I’m sure she could sense that I was feeling the same about her.

  There was newness, not just to the romance, but to the very idea of being with a woman. It felt secret and special… secret because no guy could ever know what it felt like to be a woman falling for a woman. Even though Regina is technically older than me, I feel like I am the older one… by about 4 years. I liked feeling the power of being emotionally older. She looked up to me. I could exploit her and take advantage of her. She would do anything I say.

  After that incredible hug at the curb, I gave her a quick kiss on the lips. It was natural and easy. She seemed not to have a care in the world. People on the street seeing that kiss would probably have assumed that we are dear friends. Do girlfriends sometimes kiss on the lips to greet each other? Anyway, it seemed innocent enough.

  But after the kiss, I looked her deep in the eyes and said, “Can you believe how blue the sky was today?” She was jolted from the present and light mood. She was somebody else now. Really. Her whole face said, “I beg of you from the bottom of my soul, please fuck me as hard as you can on the cold concrete. I want to be your object of lust. I want you to punish me.” Of course, I don’t know what she was actually thinking. But she responded, “Yes, Mistress. The sky is blue.”

  To be honest with you, I had no intention of activating the game. It was not preplanned. But when I saw her arriving, it came over me in an instant.

  Without saying a word, I grabbed her by the wrist and sternly led her up the stairs to the yoga class. There was a couple walking down against our path and I could tell they noticed the way I was holding Regina’s wrist. People only hold a child by the wrist like that when he or she is going to get in trouble. I didn’t care what the couple thought. I just wanted to keep Regina’s slender wrist in my grasp. It felt good to be bossy. Regina’s energy told me that she was totally on board, too.

  When we got to the studio, everyone was laying out their mats. I privately told Regina to put her mat front center. “Yes, Mistress,” she responded quietly. I placed my mat directly behind hers. Then I went right up to her ear and whispered, “Do not give me any eye contact. Do not say a word to me.” She obediently nodded.

  Regina’s demeanor was different than usual at the yoga class. Instead of her usual sparky self, she was solemn and reserved as she played our game. Even, Carol, the yoga teacher, noticed the change. She asked, “Is everything okay, Regina? You seem like something’s on your mind.” Regina, looking to shake the conversation, responded, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Then she turned away for another stretch.

  I loved that only she and I knew the secret, that she was being controlled by me. The funny thing is, because “Regina” wasn’t in class, the whole energy of the group had changed. It took on a more serious tone than normal. It’s funny how a catalyst like Regina can have a butterfly effect on a whole room. That shows you what a powerful force of light she is. It must
be fun for her to turn it off for a while in our game and play someone so different!

  The class itself was normal. I loved how earnest Regina looked in doing her poses. She was more stiff than usual. You could tell that being a slave was affecting her usual limber body. She was in a headspace that had her more reserved and self-conscious.

  During the warm down, I quietly excused myself and sneaked out the side door without saying goodbye to Regina. She was face-forward in the front of the class and unaware that I had bailed.

  But out on her motorcycle, I left a note on her seat, held down by a rock: “Come to my house immediately.” And I signed it, “Your Owner.”

  Once at home, I was still hungry. I reheated some risotto, threw a quick salad together, and sautéed some tempeh to toss in the salad for my little vegetarian friend that I had hoped would obey and show up. I set the table and poured two glasses of Pinot. Music was my Pandora romance mix that I had been crafting for over a year during my days with Boyfriend X. (For some reason, I thought that if I found the perfect mix of lustful songs, it would make him get dark and nasty. Not.)

  The table was set. Feeling a bit nervous, I took a couple gulps of wine, then quickly changed into a cotton LBD and put on our communal boots. The wooden heel was wonderfully high and felt feminine and powerful. The brick red clashed nicely against my pale skin. They were really sexy on me. I hoped Regina would think so too.

  A moment later, there she was at the door. When I opened the door, it wasn’t Regina. It was my object. She still wouldn’t make eye contact with me, handing me fresh cut flowers. I gestured for her to come in and I closed the door.

  Since she wasn’t “Regina,” it was easy for me to get what I wanted and toy with her. I told her to put the flowers in a vase. She immediately walked to the kitchen and opened cabinets in search of a vase. She found one, filled it with water and placed the beautiful flowers in it. She had not spoken to that point.

  The second the flowers were on the table, I walked up to her and grabbed her face between both my hands and coldly addressed her… 1-inch from her face. The conversation went like this:

  ME

  How dare you disobey me.

  She looked confused and didn’t speak.

  ME

  What did the note say on your scooter?

  REGINA

  (Sheepishly)

  To come here immediately.

  ME

  And what did you do instead?

  REGINA

  I swear, Mistress. I came here as fast as I could.

  ME

  Where did the flowers come from?

  REGINA

  (Realizing her screw up)

  From Betsy’s Flowers, Mistress.

  ME

  So you disobeyed me, didn’t you?

  REGINA

  (Barely audible)

  Yes, Mistress.

  ME

  What?

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress! I wanted to give you flowers.

  I gave her a little slap in the face. Her eyes darted up to me with fear and remorse.

  ME

  Don’t you look at me!

  (She quickly cast her eyes downward)

  Let’s get something straight. You will never disobey me again. Is that clear?

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress.

  ME

  I made this little dinner. I thought we could spend some time together enjoying ourselves with nice conversation. And then you come along and spoiled the whole evening by disobeying me.

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress.

  ME

  Take off your sweatshirt.

  Regina took of her yoga sweatshirt to reveal her coral-colored cotton workout tank. Her arms were so slender and toned. I pointed to a cardboard box on the counter.

  ME

  Go open it.

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress.

  She opened the box and was happily surprised to see a pair of shoulder-length, kid leather, opera gloves.

  ME

  Put them on… slowly… like you mean it.

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress.

  She took her cue. She played up donning the gloves in a slow and steamy reverse striptease. The leather looked sexy against her arms. I was getting turned on watching her work the gloves. While boots are my main fetish, the gamut is wide. Long leather gloves run a close second at getting me going.

  ME

  Here’s a rule you really don’t want to break. If, for any reason that may arise, you find yourself with an opportunity to touch my bare skin, you must always be wearing those gloves. It would disgust me to be touched by someone as lowly as you without gloves. Understood.

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress. Thank you.

  ME

  I have one more gift for you. Turn around.

  She turned away from me. I approached her from behind and gently placed my hand around her throat, giving her a firm feeling of being mildly choked as I pressed my breasts against her back. Her gloved hands were at her side.

  ME

  Rub me gently.

  REGINA

  Thank you, Mistress.

  She put her hands behind her back as I kept a solid grip on her throat. Ever so gently, she placed her hands between my legs and started caressing me through my little black dress. I released her neck and allowed my hands to slide down her front side, my left hand landing around her waist and my right hand taking her breasts. I pulled her in snugly. She was rubbing me and I was gently playing with her boobs.

  But then my left hand slid from her waist down to her covered clitoris. I held her close with my right hand as I stimulated her with my left. All the while, she was stimulating me with her arms behind her back. It was like spooning while standing up. We were both on the brink. I halted her with, “That’s enough,” and released her at once. She stood there catching her breath and waiting for the next command.

  After a brief trip to the living room, I returned with the items I wanted. Grabbing her wrists, I locked them in steel handcuffs behind her back. The cuffs locked with that telltale ratcheting sound. She was my prisoner. The look of the steel handcuffs over her leather opera gloves was pleasing, to say the least. Then, I shoved a leather bit gag into her mouth and cinched it tightly behind her neck. The gag (one of my internet purchases along with the handcuffs and gloves) was made of a leather-covered dowel with a strap on each side. The dowel was a half-inch in diameter and about 4 inches long. It looked very sturdy and serious.

  “Kneel down,” I commanded her. She quickly complied. Then I went over to the dinner table, which by now held risotto that was a tad above lukewarm. In an unsympathetic voice, I scolded her, “No dinner for you. I will not tolerate being disobeyed. You ruined the whole evening with those flowers. Now you can sit there and watch me eat all by myself.”

  And there she was… on her knees, hands in full-length gloves bound behind her back in handcuffs, an uncomfortable gag across her bite. I was super aroused, but I played it cool by casually eating and sipping my wine while ignoring her. I walked over and picked up the Chronicle, then sat back down and crossed my legs right in front of her while I read and dined. She was studying my/our brick red boots. “They look so much better on me, don’t you agree,” I said. Regina, not being able to speak, nodded affirmatively with her gorgeous eyes.

  After I indulged myself in her punishment for about a half hour, I decided to show some mercy. I took off her gag, which left indentations on her cheeks from where the leather straps had been. I gave her permission to answer me when spoken to. She stretched her jaw up and down a couple times as I think she had been quite uncomfortable in her bridle. I spoke, “You were such a good girl during dinner and sat so obediently, I think you deserve some dessert.” Extending my right leg, I continued, “Lick my boot.” “Yes, Mistress,” she eagerly replied.

  And she began to lick my boo
t as if it were the biggest cock in the world. She started at the tip of my toe and gradually covered more and more. Her tongue was driven by all the passion she had in her body. It was as sexual as anything anyone could imagine. She was in bliss. All the years of a crappy marriage and the heavy burden of being a single mom were finally shed away as she relished every bit of her feminine sexuality. She was alive. She was licking my cock.

  On the Pandora mix came the sexiest song I have ever heard, an oldie but a goodie… David Bowie’s “Putting out the fire with Gasoline” from the Cat People movie. It was the perfect soundtrack to watching her. She got to the top of my boot… and kept going. I didn’t stop her. She caressed my leg with the same commitment as below, reaching my inner thigh and eventually, my sweet spot under my dress. I helped her a little by pulling my panties aside. There was some awkwardness as we worked to get the perfect angle. Her tongue was melting me. She was fire.

  Nothing on the Earth has ever felt better to me. It was my slave. But it was Regina too. She had extremely detailed command of her tongue and carefully gauged my reactions so that she could better stimulate me at each moment. I grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled it tight to her approving moan. She brought me to an incredible crescendo… so much so that I leaned back, accidentally knocking a wine glass off the table.

  I was floating. A breeze of love washed across my whole body. I had nothing left, as if having been in a sauna for 2 hours. Regina, hands still locked behind her back, rested her head on my thigh in order to feel close to me and have a connection. I gently played with her hair. With each pass of my fingers, she seemed to be purring, intoxicated by our passion and honesty.

  I needed to be close to her too. “That was some kind of crazy day,” I lovingly uttered. She quickly sat upright and shocked me by forcefully blurting out, “No, Mistress. It was NOT a crazy day. Please don’t leave me!! I beg of you.” And real tears came over her as she started to cry. I was rattled, not expecting this in the least. I had planned on getting her off, but not until later. By her reaction, I realized that she was still in the headspace of the game and wasn’t complete. Even though it was a game, it was as real as real could be.

  The mind is a powerful thing. I’m afraid of heights and if I anybody recounts a story of their parachute jump, my hands get sweaty and my heart races. The parachute jump is as real to me as if I was doing it right then myself. That’s how the game was to Regina. She wasn’t a mom. She wasn’t teacher. She wasn’t happy and bright. She was Meg’s object. She needed to be controlled and handled. Fine.