My boyfriend had been acting strange for a few days before he text me to meet him at the local shopping mall the next morning. So confident was I that I had covered my tracks, I didn't even entertain the thought he might know of my trysts with James* and Ken*. But as he strode up to me that cold, wet, dismal morning with his black, leather trench coat flapping about him in the breeze and sheets of white paper clutched in one hand, my heart was in my mouth a little.
I greeted him casually, a quick peck on the lips, but he meant business.
"I know about your advert," he told me, with no anger or hurt in his voice, only a questioning look in his eyes.
"What advert?" I hedged, having the nerve to look wounded.
"Seeking a Master," he replied as I looked sheepish.
I didn't need to say a word, my guilt was written all over my face. But, to my relief, he didn't appear to know I'd had any responses to the ad, or, if he did, that I'd met with some of the respondents. Instead, as we sheltered under an awning from the driving rain, he showed me what was on the paper in his hand. It was a BDSM checklist! Rather than dumping me, he wanted to explore my BDSM fantasies with me. I should have felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Instead, I just felt awkward and uncomfortable. And more than a little ashamed.
The relationship with Steve* came naturally to an end not long after the BDSM checklist incident. I ended things with him by, I'm ashamed to admit it now, text message. I'm sure my reasons had something to do with his wanting to explore the darker recesses of my mind. For reasons I'm not too sure of, I've always found it easier to explore the submissive side of me with strangers, or almost strangers.
But as it turned out, that wasn't to be the last I'd see of Steve...
*names changed for privacy
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