He caught my eye. I didn't know him.
He caught my eye and dragged his eyes down my body. Over my primped cleavage meant for my boyfriend, over my arms to my delicate wrists, down my back which was nude to the world by a halter top. Over my hips and down my ass to my thighs in skin tight low riding jeans and down to my small feet encased in tiny black heels.
He knew me for what I was. He caught me.
His slave was at his side, dressed like a whore, collared like a pet and whining like the puppy she was to him. He was stern, she was enthralled. He was dismissive, she was timid.
He caught me. He caught my judgment. Of him. Of his slave.
I caught him.
At the casino a comedian was headlining that Gadget loved so I dressed cute, slapped on some tiny heels and we headed out into the rainy twilight to find the laughter we knew was hidden somewhere. As we walked beneath the cloud protected sky and over the decorated cement I felt such comfort with his big hand holding my tiny one.
We stood in line for tickets and the sky became more heavy and I prayed for it to stay bated until my glamorous hair and I were safely within the theater. I could feel heat behind me, not like fire, but like a gaze. The fire intuitive women like myself feel when a man is staring at us, taking our bodies with their eyes and twisting it to fantasies in their minds.
I felt this fire behind me and when I turned I saw him, with his eyes afire for me. And then I saw her. Her eyes were afire for him.
Her hair was dark and she was collared, she was corseted, in a miniskirt and break-ankle heels all topped off with street walker make-up and a pet's enthralled gaze. She belonged to him. I could feel it and he knew I felt it.
Its not paranoia, its the energy. If you've been under the whip of a Dom, you can feel them around you, you can feel their power over their slaves, their pets. I can always feel it.
My neck twisted back forward and I pressed harder into Gadget, he felt the pressure and looked down at me with a smile. He didn't know.
He wasn't aware that the whore in me had been spotted by a Dom and my hatred bubbled up inside. Panic flushed into my cheeks beneath my perfectly applied foundation and my teeth bit maniacally at my rouged lips.
I heard him speaking to her like he would in his dark home, but out in the light where I'm supposed to be safe from all the darkness and I felt the heat in my wrists as if I was bound. I felt the heated whip of leather against my raw, red and abused skin, the bruises bubbling up from deep inside my flesh.
I took a deep breath and looked at Gadget as he made his transaction with the coiffed ticket girl and realized that my skin was my own and it was perfectly pure and untouched. I owned myself. My skin has healed and has become rosy pink like always and smells of soft flowers after I come from the heated water of my shower.
I pulled gently on Gadget's wrists once we were safe and away from the Master and his slave, safe from the setting sun and in the lobby with others,
I felt one of them. I saw him and he had one. He owns her.
Gadget looked at me and held me close and kissed me quickly, understanding and settling my nerves in his passive and beautiful way. I felt his love and I felt safety. But most of all...
I felt as if I belonged with him, but belonged to no one, and that was the best feeling of all.