Wednesday night Mr.Aloof and I met up in Camden after my softball game. We didn't meet until 10, so it wasn't as though we were going to have lots of time. In fact, I was in bed by midnight, so we probably only met up for an hour, though it seemed in some ways much longer. It had been almost six weeks. It was good just to catch up. To reacquaint. To set the scene for Thursday.
There is in south London, a large Victorian warehouse- five stories, just recently vacated when the business that was in it moved to a new building further south. Mr.Aloof told me he would be working in the building. Mr.Aloof said he did not wish to be disturbed. He also mentioned that though the gates were chained shut, there was enough room for a person to squeeze through, and that somewhere in the abandoned building was a key on a blue scarf.
At nine I arrived at the building, it was getting dark. There were lights on in various rooms on various floors. I squeezed through the gate. The front door was locked. I went around the side. I saw Mr.Aloof in the kitchen window briefly. My heart stopped. I went around the back. Most of the service doors were shut and locked, but I could see the last one was open.
I was coming around the large shipping containers when I saw Mr.Aloof approaching, so I ran back. Perhaps he saw me. Perhaps he saw me from the kitchen. But he was playing the game as well, and if he did, was willing to give me another chance. So I couldn't go in that way. I looked up and saw one of the doors on the fire escape ajar, so I went up that way.
I left my bag on the fourth floor where I came in (for clarity, I'm using American floors here, first is ground) and started exploring. I wished I'd brought a flashlight. Random bits of things strewn about everywhere. Abandoned desks and paper. Cardboard boxes and packing material. Creaky floors and sounds from everywhere. How did I get myself into this? I hate games like this! My heart raced continuously. My hands shook. I managed to explore all the upper floors. There was no key. On the first floor the lights were blazing. Mr.Aloof was prowling. I knew I had to get down there. I don't know how I did it. I don't know where I went first. The first floor had more stuff than the upper floors. More smaller rooms and divisions and dead ends, all with Mr.Aloof just around the corner. I managed to see a bit of blue scarf in the last place I looked, tucked half under a newspaper. Tied to a key. I grabbed it and went back upstairs. I was unsure what to do next.
Having accomplished my task, the only thing I could think to do was to interrupt. Which of course would mean retribution. And I thought I was scared before. Going back downstairs I stalked Mr.Aloof. I tried throwing some worker gloves at him but threw so far off the mark they didn't even make it into the other room. That was pathetic actually. So I opted for the direct approach. Standing where I knew I had two routes of exit I waited for him to turn around where he would clearly be able to see me. "You work too much!" I exclaimed while throwing my remaining stolen worker gloves at him. "What are you doing here?!", he bellowed and charged.
I ran. Slamming one of the doors I passed through behind me gave enough of a lag time to squeeze ahead out of view where I ducked into one of the smaller empty and unlit rooms. He rushed past. All I could hear was my breathing, echoing loudly on everything. My blood was pounding. Surely he could hear it too? He passed a couple times and I decided to come back out. He saw me and the chase was on again. I was doing fine until I tripped and went crashing to the ground. He was on me in a flash.
"What are you doing here? I told you not to come!" He said, punctuating every word with the sort of action that is only acceptable between two consenting adults. I twisted and writhed trying to get out of his grasp or reach of his swinging arm. I went still and he got up, leaving, I ran again and hid. I heard him return. He was saying he would find me. I was completely out of breath. Flushed. Charged. High on adrenaline. Of course it's not my building and I am not as familiar with the twists and turns. I ended up in a horrible spot, with no good place to hide and visible from three different places. I was made. He was on me again. Pinned to the floor. I tried to throw him. He told me I wasn't much of a challenge and dragged me up by my shirt. I struggled out of it and ran, leaving him holding the shirt. This time I made it up the stairs. I bolted up three flights and onto the floor that was filled with desks. It was also one of the creakier floors. I had to find cover fast. I ducked under one of the nearest desks, expecting him to be behind me. Wedged under the desk as I was, I realized I was too visible so I moved from one to another thinking I'd found a good spot. I waited. I could hear him on the floor below. I could hear him on the floor above. I thought perhaps he wouldn't look for me when I heard someone on the stairs and then the creak of his footsteps on the same floor I had bolted across.
Too late I realized that I had positioned myself on a desk by a window. A black window, with lights on inside, as I could see the reflection of the room, so would I be seen in my tiny cubby under the desk. When he came into view I hoped he wasn't looking in the window and that hope vanished when he vaulted over the desk and started to pull it apart. He pulled the L off the desk and I was left under one small bit. He was no longer empty handed and had his whip. "Get out!" He demanded, after he tried tugging my leg while I scraped and held onto the bottom of the desk. "GET OUT!" he said louder, this time brandishing the whip. I shrank back as far as I could and the whip came down. Hard. After three strikes I yelped that I would come out. I crawled out, staying low and he grabbed me by the hair. Leaning over me, he undid my bra and slid it off my shoulders. I stayed huddled. He moved away and I stood up.
"Strip."
Instead I ran. He chased me a bit around the desks but then abruptly turned and went for the door. He turned off the light and I was afraid he was locking me in. I started to go towards the door when he came back now with the whip, and a large fire extinguisher.
"It isn't so hard K. And I'm sure this is going to be cold."
And he blasted me. It was cold, and I ran. He sprayed me as I went, I was getting drenched in slimy fire extinguisher goo. I ended up in a corner with a large bunch of desks between us, I figured I could run left or right. Instead he leapt onto the desk and blasted me completely.
"Okay, okay!" I shrieked. He put the fire extinguisher down and grabbed me by the wrist, dragging me behind him up one floor, which is the one I entered on, which is the one he lives on. I could twist my slimed wrist in his grasp but he held firm, and I followed. He left me there, heading downstairs and I made to the bathroom to get fire goo out of my eye where some had gotten in and was stinging. I decided to stay hidden in the bathroom. I heard him come up the stairs, walk slowly past, then, he banged the door open. He had gone to get a bunch of cloths. "Clean yourself up" He said, tossing the cloths at me. And I did. My jeans were soaked through, I left them on. I could see in the mirror I had a splatter of marks where the whip had hit me when I hid under the desk. Cleaned up, I came out and he was not around, so I went to the window to look out over the neighborhood and get a cool breeze. He returned and turned me to face him. "Close your eyes," he said "and put your hands in front of you."
I did and felt my own leather cuffs being placed on my wrists. He had found them in my bag. As requested. He tied them together with rope and told me to keep my eyes closed. Then tugged the rope. I did follow without looking for a bit, but curiosity overcame and I peeked. He led me to the stair, up the stair, into the attic. This time the attic was dark. No candles. No sign of inhabitation. He led me to the back by the large window, threw the rope over the rafter and tied it off. Then he walked back out and left.
I leaned on the rope and determined I could slide it along the rafter and then undo it. It's not that I really wanted to, it was more the principle at the time. So I undid the rope, but didn't hide. Just to show that I could. He returned and I started to feel bad about undoing the rope. He had brought up my matching leather collar and put it on. He undid the rope from the cuffs and reattached it to a single one and connected my one arm up more purposefully. "Get those clothes off." I tried balancing, with one hand tied, of course my sneaker lace knotted and I was having trouble. He smirked and released my tied hand so I could finish, and left again. Nude, aside from collar and wrist cuffs, I waited. He returned and retightened my one arm, then gave the other the same treatment on an opposite column. I was not going to get out of that one.
And so it went. He gave me water from a cup he held in between the attention from his hands and his whip. He would leave occasionally and return sometimes with something, sometimes with nothing. At some point he put my ankle cuffs on, completing the ensemble. I still wasn't able to give up completely. I wouldn't say what he wanted to hear. Not until the end. And we were both tired and he threatened me with putting me in a cage all night and I acquiesced.
So he led me back downstairs to his floor, and with a quick bathroom stop, into his bedroom, to a palette at the foot of the bed with chain coiled. He had me kneel there and ran the chain through the collar, securing it. Then he left to get ready for bed. My skin stung in places and my feet went slightly numb, still I waited patiently. It had been a long evening. He came back eventually and got into bed. Lay there for a while, then indicated I should join him. And so I did, chain dragging behind.
We did the general sorts of things people would do in a bed, after a night like ours. Well, sort of. No sex. Still no sex I should say. Nudity, yes, touching, yes, sex, no. Too late, too tired, too unsure. I don't know. It does seem to me a bit odd, but I'm not complaining. I was not lacking in satisfaction. We slept there together, entwined. At some point in the night he removed the chain. At some later point the collar. I didn't sleep well, but it was a new person, a new place, and so that also didn't matter. It was nice.
In the morning I surveyed the marks on my body, the soreness in my muscles, the bruise on my hand from falling to the floor, the sleeping form next to mine.
It made me smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment