I slump in my seat, rest my head back, and close my eyes in defeat.
Yes, Miss
Chapter 13
James
I had hoped to see Isabelle at the after-work drinks last night, so being sat surrounded by my colleagues and her empty seat beside me, made me want to leave as soon as possible. She has only been here for two weeks but already feels like the heart of the team.
This morning, though, I feel at a loss. Restlessness surges through me, and I make my way through the house—tidying, cleaning, doing anything that will keep me busy.
By lunchtime, I’m sitting with nothing else to occupy my time or my mind, scrolling through my phone when I see an email from the club promoting their Domme night tonight.
It's been a while, and I need to get out of the house. All the talk at the pub about husbands and wives and Daniel's reminder that I seemingly can't keep a woman has made
Alexandra Ravensbrook
me feel very alone. I need company, distraction, and maybe some connection, somehow.
Laura, my ex-wife, is the typical case of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure.
We trained at teacher college together and got jobs nearby. I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d met. Funny, confident, clever. We dated on and off during university, with placements often getting in the way of spending time together. Once we qualified and got jobs, we settled down pretty quickly and moved in together. The sex was great. We were so happy.
Everything was great.
Until it wasn't.
It all just seemed to come crashing down, and I had been oblivious to it all.
Laura loved to take charge, and I was there for it. I loved it. There's nothing sexier than a woman in control taking what she wants. We tried so much. She liked to tie me up and tease me, and fucking hell, that really got me going. I liked returning the favour, pleasuring her as long as she wanted. There were things she never wanted to try, which was fine. We made up for it in so many other ways.
By the time we hit our thirties, though, things had become strained. We’d lost that spark. We both blamed
Yes, Miss
being busy at work, having very little downtime with each other. Being tired or stressed. But she had become distant.
Sex became something we did on a Saturday morning as a habit. We sat and talked about how to get things up and running, and I told her how much I enjoyed her taking control and getting rough. How I liked doing what she told me to do. I knew what she liked and didn't, and I loved seeing her come. We tried, but she always ended up just letting me take over and take control. Arguments started between us, and I told her I wanted to explore her being the dominant one, maybe try some dirty talk. I'd seen a video of a guy being edged and called filthy names and humiliated, and I'm not going to lie, it gave me the biggest hard-on I'd ever had.
I'm not ashamed to say I'd watched porn during our rough patch. I even tried getting her to watch it with me. I reminded her of the time she’d grabbed my hair and yanked on it, and it had hurt, but it was such a good kind of pain.
But that was it. She just lost it. It was so out of nowhere. Such an overreaction. Hurtful things were said by both of us. I won’t say I was the innocent one, but the things she said had cut deep.
She had told me that no real man wanted to be on his knees and dominated. That I should be ashamed to want to lower myself that way. That what I said I liked was sick and perverted.Iwas a pervert.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
I knew then that it was the end. The divorce she asked for I gave, because I was broken by then. She made me feel so ashamed, so dirty and disgusting. I had opened up to my wife, the woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. I had told her my deepest fantasies, and she laughed at me. She was disgusted.
Maybe she was right, and that haunted me for so long. After that, I laid low. There was no point in trying to have any relationships after that. No woman would want me, a man who's not a real man.
Then I found Purgatory.
Purgatory is a local fetish BDSM club. They hold different themed nights that focus on different areas of kink. A pop-up advert came up on a fetish site I had been looking at, and to know it was quite local was surprising. I researched the club and spoke to a few people online about it, and I couldn't believe it. There were others who liked the same things. I wasn't alone. I felt like I could finally take a deep breath.
I went and visited. They were so friendly and—I suppose it's strange to say—normal. The man who had shown me round was just so average, with blond hair receding with strands of grey at the temples and wrinkles around the edges of his eyes from smiling so much. He was gently spoken, and in his shirt and trousers he looked like any guy off the street, like he worked in IT or accounting.
Yes, Miss
