She picks up her menu and starts to read it, making it clear this conversation is over.
We eat our meal, talking about our families, music, and film tastes, relaxing into just getting to know each other more. Watching her face light up as she tells her stories and talks about her friends from university is mesmerising. Listening to the obvious love she has for her friends and
Alexandra Ravensbrook
how they’ve supported her makes me eager to meet them at some point. I suppose it’s fair when she asks me what happened with Laura.
“Why did you two split up?” she asks, leaning forward, her chin resting in her hand, elbows propped on the table. The other hand swirls her glass, the dim lighting of the restaurant glinting on her deep blue eyes. The food finished long ago, and the second bottle has been opened, conversation now flowing easily.
I take a deep breath, wondering how to explain how I had been made to feel so inadequate, so disgusting, how Laura sought out another man to be happy with. I can’t avoid telling Isabelle; she’s been honest with me, if a little reserved, but that’s understandable given what had happened.
I take another mouthful of wine, trying to summon up the courage. “Laura and I had been going well, but things got stale between us. We talked about what we wanted from the relationship, our sex life, what did it for us, what we wanted to try. I’d always liked pleasing her, and she’d always been happy with that aspect…”
Isabelle snorts a laugh. “I bet she was! Sorry… Keep going.”
“I told her I would like it if she took charge, bossed me about a bit, you know.”
Yes, Miss
"Okay, and?”
"Well, she looked like I’d just said I wanted to involve animals or something! She said no man should want to be bossed about by a woman; a man should be a man and take control. I’d always been happy to do that, but there’d always been that little idea that I’d like her to take charge.”
"Oh, James, that’s a horrid response. I’m so sorry.”
"Anyway,” I continue, feeling the need to get it all out now. “When I said I’d find it hot if she, maybe, called me a few names, told me what to do, stuff like that, she freaked out. We ended up arguing. She called me a filthy pervert, disgusting, said I should be on some kind of register and I’m not safe to be around kids. She said she’d never consider me safe as a parent, stuff like that, and at that point, I knew it was over. I felt so awful.”
I shrug, trying to steady my voice from the emotion I can feel building.
“Turns out she’d met someone else anyway. When the divorce came through, she told me to my face she had another man, one who knew how to be a real man.” My voice breaks off at that point. Too scared to look up and see the same look on Isabelle’s face, I concentrate on my wine.
"I want to skin the bitch alive,” she grinds out. “How fucking dare she? Does she not realise how much of an
Alexandra Ravensbrook
honour it is to have a man on his knees, worshipping you, begging to please you, and trusting you with their wellbeing and pleasure?” She shakes her head in disgust. “A real man? What the actual fuck? A real man who can’t acknowledge his own feelings? Feels the need to be all macho and in charge… Oh, James, she better hope and pray I never meet her,” Isabelle spits, anger flashing through her features.
Holy crap, angry Isabelle is stunning. She’s fierce, and I’m hooked.
She places a hand on mine. The soft feel of her skin, the gentle touch she gives, ground me back in the here and now as I focus on her rather than the past that continues to haunt me.
“James, you are everything a man should be, and I’m so angry she made you feel inadequate. If we’re doing this, us, I need you to understand something. You are every inch a real man. I will do everything in my power to support you, to lift you up and care for you, but I need you to do that for yourself too. I need you to understand that and really feel it in here.” She pauses and taps at her heart. “It will take time, I know, but you are better without that bitch.”
I look up into her face, her eyes locked on mine, and her hand slides across the table, resting on mine once again. Her skin warms mine, sending sparks flying up my arm.
Yes, Miss
Hearing her say all this gives me hope, but I’m also hesitant. What if she’s just saying this to make me feel better? What if she changes her mind when she sees what I like? What if she runs a mile and agrees with Laura?
Because I’m a filthy pervert.
But if Isabelle likes this stuff too… Is she a pervert? The idea of someone thinking that of her makes me furious. She isn’t. She’s confident, caring, and sensual. But reconciling that with myself? I can’t. It took me so long to reassure myself that I’m not a danger to children like Laura said. I love children. I love teaching, watching them grow and develop into young adults. I feared Laura would tell Rebecca I was a danger and cause issues at work, but she never went that far. Lucky me. I wouldn’t have put it past her. She could be a special kind of cruel when she wanted to be.
“James?” Isabelle says cautiously. “I want to ask you properly, and I want you to feel free to say whatever you want to, okay?”
I nod, suddenly curious about what she’s about to ask.
She smiles at me softly. “Would you like to be my submissive, and I, your Domme? Would you like to try this? We can take it slow. And when we try different things, I want you to feel able to talk honestly and openly with me about how you feel. We can adjust limits as we go along… If that’s what you want.” She takes a sip of her
