One Year Later…

She wouldn’t have remembered that this was the anniversary except for Facebook.   But the memory popped up on there, “One year ago today…” and there was the image she posted that day.  It read:

She stood in the storm 
and when the wind did not blow her way, 
she adjusted her sails.

She smiled, thinking about her feelings the day her relationship with Don had ended, and the way her life had changed since then.  She had missed him more than she expected to, missed their friendship.  He had been a comfortable companion, and she was lonesome sometimes.

But when he messaged her about 6 months after he’d moved out, messaged her trying to start a conversation, she’d been cool and distant.    After all, they weren’t really friends anymore.  Friends didn’t sneak around and have romantic relationships behind your back, then up and leave you without warning.

Apparently the fires had cooled with Little Tootsie.  Don was lonesome.  Not happy.  He just wanted to see her, just wanted to talk.  She turned down three invitations – dinner, drinks, and coffee – before he told her that he had been hoping they could – how did he put it?  Take another shot at it?

No.  That was not happening.  And she’d told him so, gently but clearly.  And that had been the end of that.

She thought that had been the end of her connection to the world of kink too.  Well, not completely the end of her connection, because she still knew people involved in the lifestyle, Doms and subs and switches, furries and littles, people practicing all the variations of BDSM.  But now she wondered if she’d end up more involved than she ever had been.

She and her friend Connie had been having coffee last week when Connie said, “You’re still building up your coaching business, aren’t you?  Still taking new clients?”

“Yes,” Ada said, “I’m doing ok, but I’m always open to new clients.” 

“I think you ought to go talk to Josh at the club.”  “The club” was the local venue for kink play, also known as “the dungeon.”  Ada knew Josh, the owner, but not well.

“Talk to Josh?  For what?”

“Last night,” Connie said, glancing around the coffee shop to make sure no one was listening, “He was telling me that he’s having a lot of trouble with the staff.  Lots of arguments – just stupid stuff.  People on the day shift accusing the night shift of not doing their sidework, night shift complaining about the day shift not filling the salt shakers – just stupid stuff. 

Ada laughed, “You can’t have a day shift and a night shift without some of that.   How is this different?”

“I don’t know,” Connie said.  “I guess maybe there’s more to it than that.  All I know is what Josh was telling me last night.  He said he was thinking about hiring a mediator or something, someone to come in and get them to all start working together, like a team instead of like enemies.  I told him he needed a life coach, someone that understood people and communication styles and all that stuff you do.  In fact,” Connie looked at the table, picked up her spoon a bit nervously, then put it back down, “In fact, I might have said I had a friend who was just the person he needed.”

“You did what?” Ada asked.

Connie glanced back up at Ada, trying to gauge her friend’s reaction.  Was relieved to see Ada smile.

“Um, I told him I had a friend who could help him sort out his problems with the staff.  I told him you had lots of experience working with teams of people who weren’t getting along, and I told him that you were – well, I didn’t tell him you were a sub, but I told him you were familiar with the lifestyle, I said that part of it wouldn’t be an issue for you.” 

“Oh.  Oh, my.  Well, that’s certainly interesting.  And pretty cool, really.  Yeah, actually, that sounds like it would be blast.  The more Ada considered it, the more exciting the possibility sounded.  “Thanks, Connie, that’s awesome!  Did you give him my number, or what?”

“No,” Connie bit her lip, “I told him I’d talk to you and you’d call him.  I hope that was ok.”

“Sure – of course – yes!  I can do that.  Thanks for telling me about it – thanks for telling him about me.  That’s pretty cool, actually.  I’ll call him today.” 

Ada was intrigued, and a little bit excited.  It had been years since she’d been to the club, but just thinking about it brought back such rich memories.  The sound of leather landing with a THWAP.  The sights – naked flesh, spanking benches, the St Andrews cross at one end of the room.  Memories of the times she’d been tied to the cross, flogged.  The screams and moans and…

“Ada?”  Connie’s voice brought her back.  “Are you ok?”

Ada shook herself a bit.  She felt like she’d slipped into a dream for a second there.  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.  But – but it sounded like fun.

“No, yes, I’m fine,” she said, realizing that Connie was waiting for her answer, looking at her anxiously.  “I just – gosh, it’s been a long time since I’ve even been in the dungeon.”

“Yeah,” Connie nodded.  “Seems like you quit going right after you met Don.”

“I did.  Don wasn’t interested in public play, or the community for that matter, and I was so happy with him at first that I didn’t even miss going to play parties and stuff.  Then when things changed between us, I just dealt with that, I didn’t even think about going back to the club.  Now, it’s been so long, I don’t even know if I’m submissive anymore.”

Connie shook her head, “I don’t think that ever changes.  It’s like a time bomb inside you, just waiting to get activated.”

Ada thought about that as she looked in the mirror.  She was almost ready for her first meeting with Josh.  As a life coach, wearing a business suit wasn’t part of the drill.  She could wear black skinny jeans and a tunic every day of the week if she wanted to.  But today she’d dressed up just a bit.  A black skirt and purple sweater, with her black boots.  At 61, she wasn’t wearing 3 inch heels anymore, but they were cute boots anyhow.  And purple was still her color.

She’d let her hair go gray, and it curled softly.  It was in the sweet spot of a perm, not too curly, not getting ragged and frizzy yet.  Maybe she’d dye it purple, or get some streaks anyhow, but for now, this worked.

Josh had sounded carefully interested on the phone.  Not ready to commit to anything – and of course not, why would he?  But interested in talking about what was going on at the club and what he thought he needed. 

So – car key.  Purse.  Jacket.  Bottle of water, and out the door.  “It will be interesting to see what happens,” Ada told herself, adding, as she usually did, “Whatever happens, it’s gonna be ok.”