Tag Archives: ghosts

A Duty, an Echo, a Bow-Out

She wanted to own him, for him to want to own her, but he tread lightly around her. He didn’t want to mark her. She wanted to be branded; a red, raw wound.”

-The Piano Teacher

‘In an Open Relationship since May, 20, 2015’


It was the cherry on top of an overly-saturated emotional cake today, full of feels I am still processing. I agreed today to walk into a situation that will end up likely breaking a large part of me and force me out of my community for a while. It will be the catalyst to something that I have been chewing on for a while. Facebook just took the time to remind me that even when I think the ghosts are gone.. sometimes I miss a spot.

The status wasn’t linked to James. That has long since been gone..but it was there. Our anniversary staring at me. Mocking me, as the loose end that said ‘you haven’t walked away yet’ while his details say single. I can’t do that. I’m not single. I have partners, though no primary. I can’t draw that clean line like he can..but has it ever been clean?

We’re getting James a car. The wheels are in motion, no pun intended. It’s what I sat down to figure out today. Will it be possible. Can it be done? Yes.

This passed weekend I watched him break. Again. I saw him on Friday at a play party and barely recognized the stubborn man I know and love. I saw… a broken, exhausted shell of a man that is so far beyond the reach of those who love him. I was afraid. Unsurprised, and afraid. I asked if he wanted a ride home, and of course he said no. He can get himself home. I wasn’t surprised when he posted a status the next day saying that he was going into full hibernation mode and would be back in a few days. He needed it. I knew that, watching as an outsider looking in that knew way too much about him. I don’t have a right to know anymore, but I do. I know his body ticks. I know the look he gets when he’s hit a wall.

I can’t watch it anymore.

There’s a selfish element. I realize that I can get certain gears rolling for him, connect certain people together, that others can’t. It’s why I’ve been pulled in. I also realize that in doing this, my usefulness to him will be removed. I’m his ride. Removing that factor severs our necessity in one another. It removes a huge way in which I passively serve him and reduces our interactions purely to choice.

I’m not sure what either of us can choose. Will choose. But I would rather give up the choice to be around him than watch him kill himself. I… can’t. I love the asshole. To actually be permitted to pull my resources and do some good with them for him… It’s one last hurrah. The last act of real service I can give him before I am completely rung dry. Before I am used up emotionally and break myself.

After the meeting today I came home and let myself trip back down memory lane, digging into the Dark Odyssey photo albums. I let myself look at the old shots he’s taken of me, vs the ones he takes now. I let myself register the disconnect and distance. I found the Facebook slip and while it stung on top of everything else I feel relieved to have remedied the error. I know I’m going to put way too much into this, both time and energy… and then I will finally rest. I will walk away, explain why, and see what happens next. If he comes after me I will honestly be shocked. If he notices what I’ve done I’ll be doubly shocked. I don’t expect anything in return for all this. And I know I’m being way too vague in this entry, but I can’t talk about details.

I have to do this. One last time.

And then… I will probably disappear for a while.

I don’t have a choice. I won’t disappear from here. I’ll still have my partners… but James and I are so tightly entangled. I fear after he gets his wheels..even before, now.. that entanglement will become a strangle hold. If it hasn’t already. I will suffocate under the weight of our connection, unable to move forward and forbidden to go back. Whether I go or stay, it will break me..it’s just the damage that must be calculated. The recovery time. The risk and reward.

I will step back from BaGG. From the Citadel parties I love.. I know the ones he works. The ones he doesn’t. I won’t cut myself off completely from the community but…

If I am useless and unwanted, I need to hear that. If I am wanted and needed, I need to hear that. And I don’t know if I ever will.

So now I lay sleepless on my couch with a snoring dog and a cat desperately trying to flatten my chest, attempting to see which end is up.

Yours, drowning




The studio smelled of oil paints and acrylics, scents that have always made me feel at home.

I walked up the stairs in heavy black clogs, my bag for the Citadel held tight against me. Bent was in less than an hour. I wanted to get there around when it started, before it got too busy, so Master could properly collar me for the evening. I love having that moment with him, where I bend my head down and press my forehead to his leg as he slips the leather around my neck…

Kane had invited me to his open studios a couple of months ago, after the first time I saw his studio. Now, the studio was full of people. Wine. Snacks. When I had first been led up its stairs the entire building had been nearly deserted, outside of a few artists who were set on working well into the night.

As always, Kane was one of them. We had connected over artwork, discussing our pasts, our mediums, and our connection to the creative process long ago. He could get lost in his work, and a world ago when I was his I used to kneel at his feet and get lost in his world with him.

He led me through the winding studios to his little corner to show me the pieces he was working in. Big blocks of color, pops of playfulness and inspiration that he had reclaimed after a hard year for him. It was good work. Not my type of work, but good work.

It started with him scooting closer to me, slowly, our bodies swaying together like they were pulled by magnets. Somehow, our arms found their way around each others’ waists, and then around each other, so that we were holding one another. And then we were kissing in the middle of the studio, shy at first…

It was easy. Letting him touch me, letting him kiss me. It was so familiar, so nice. He whispered in my ear that he had missed me, pulling me against him so that I could feel him hard underneath his jeans. He told me every last little thing that I had wanted to hear a year ago. That he fantasized about me, that I was his one that got away. That it wasn’t just my body, it was the woman behind it. My body was nothing without my mind, my spirit, my fight. That he had hated me not being in his life. That letting me go was one of his biggest regrets.

I found myself transported back over a year. I was on my knees, my head on his leg, while he pet me and painted. He would touch me, kiss me, give me some attention, and then go back to his piece. It felt so easy… so easy I almost forgot that it was a year later. That we had ended horribly. That he had hurt me more than he would ever realize.

Eventually, the painted stopped. He ordered me to clean his brushes, a task I had once loved. Happily, I did so. He had me appraise his work; make constructive criticism as an artist that didn’t always see his creations with the kindest of eyes.

He mentioned that the bathrooms at the studio were very large and cleaned nightly.

“It would be very easy,” he said ” for a dirty little girl to get on her knees and take a cock into her mouth in there…”

I was drenched, and wanting, and hungry. I had lost track of time. James was working a party, and I was going there after Kane’s studio. My mind didn’t even register time as I watched the sun set from the studio window’s with Kane behind me, his hands inside my pants, feeling along my ass. He spanked me, hard and quick and unrelenting, and then toyed me ever so lightly. I moaned, missing him, wanting him, and then his voice brought me back to reality.

“I should tell you,” he said, “I sort of have a girlfriend. And I’m sort of supposed to be a good boy and be monogamous.”

I froze, my body growing cold at his words. Not again. I would not be the other woman again. I had been that for nearly a year, and had hated every last moment of it. I wouldn’t let him do that to me again.

“We can’t.” I said, quietly, sadly. The truth is, as wrong as it was I still wanted it. It was the farthest we had gone in over a year and it felt so good, so familiar. Pulling away from him and asking to leave, saying I had to get to the party… It fucked with my head. I hadn’t realized until that moment that there was a part of me that remained his. That longed to be his, to wear his collar and cuffs and greet him naked at the door on my knees as I used to. There was a part of me that so easily slipped into that role.

I walked away. We didn’t do more than kiss. I couldn’t do that to his girlfriend.. I knew too well what it felt like.


Unlike last time, the studio was filled with people, wine, and music. I navigated the hallways on my own, pausing to look at work mounted on the walls as I wrestled with the idea of being there. He probably didn’t even remember inviting me back for the open studio. Who knew who else was here..

Eventually, I found him holding court with prospective buyers in his little corner. He was heartbreaking familiar and incredibly strange to me, and for a couple minutes I stood there simply absorbing a world I had never really been a part of. I let myself look at new work that he had finished after my visit. He came over, hugged me, and briefly we discussed his work. I was about to mention some paintings of birds on pieces of wood that I had surprisingly loved when a group came over and started chatting with him.

They remarked on the beautiful desserts he had at his station. Kane smiled. “My girlfriend made them.”

“Such a talented couple, the two of you! Well suited for one another.”

All the while I watched, smiling to myself. Yes. Such a talented couple. Right place, at the right time.

She came over soon after, and I tried to sneak away, to escape back to my world. My collar jingled in my bag.

“Rene! RENE!”

Awkwardly, I shook her hand. She was older than me, taller, larger, but her body shape was similar, as were her brown hair and eyes. She wore her hair similarly to how I always had, up in a bun unless Kane had ordered it down. He had loved my hair down. He told me once that he had grown up with straight blonde hair all around him and it bored him. He loved my curly, dark locks for being the exact opposite.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your medium is sculpture, right? Are you working on anything new? Have you been to the studio before?”

I was surprised he had told her about me.. although I wondered what he had told. I chanced a quick glance at Kane before returning my gaze to his lady. His eyes avoided mine.

Yes, I had been there before.
And I’m not sure I will ever be back.

No, I had no new work.
And I’m not sure what you would make of my old work.

Many things were left unsaid. As Kane came over and put his arm around his girlfriend I smiled, echoing what I had heard the group saying about them being a talented couple. His lady glowed and looked up at him.

“Oh, I’m definitely overshadowed by this one here.”

I recognized the look she gave him. I knew it all too well. That look of pure adoration. Love. Almost worship. I had given him the same time and time again when I was on my knees in front of him awaiting my next task.

Walking away that day at the studio had been the right thing. The ache, the last tinge of regret, faded as I smiled at the happy couple. I lifted my bag and mentioned to Kane that I had to get to the Citadel. There was a party tonight. James was waiting for me.

He smiled sadly. For a moment, we locked eyes, both our minds on a different time. I think we both saw the door close. Both knew that we had finally fully moved in different directions and that there was no going back, no freezing time. It was done.

“Have fun.” he whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear him.

I smiled, gave him one last wave, and ran from the studio back to my world. As I relaxed on the car ride over to the Citadel my hand slipped inside my bag to wrap around my leather collar.

Yes, I had made the right choice in multiple ways. It was a good thing, this door closing. It felt oddly nice to fully complete that chapter of my life.

Time to turn the page and see what’s next in store for me.

Yours, as always





Past and Present



“Please, Rena? Please!”
Jase, you’re being pathetic.”
“But please, you promised you would be there! I need you there!” 

Jason has never begged me for anything, ever. I’ve begged him for plenty over the past couple of years; more love, more affection and attention, being a higher priority in his life. Not being forgotten. Those sort of things. Never once has he begged me for anything, until now. 

Perhaps I’m being a hard ass. After all, there was a time not so long ago when he was my knight in dented armor and could do no wrong. I would fly to the moon and back for him, bend backwards, do somersaults, anything to make him look twice at me and remember who really cared about him. In return, he showed me affection. He dangled just enough of it in front of me that I would bite and stay on the line as his safety net. And somehow, I never noticed until after he cut the line. I was too happy for any attention he would give me. 

The garter belt had gotten me in a bit of trouble at the airport. I had both it and the thigh-highs it attached to hidden underneath the comfy pair of sweatpants I was wearing on the plane, which had earned me an extra pat down from the TSA agent at the edge of the security check point. The look of surprise on her face when she realized what I had on was priceless. 

I had gone all out for this trip, because it was Valentine’s Day. Normally I gave Jason straight hair, and perhaps a bit of makeup and some nice lingerie that he barely noticed before ordering it off me. This trip, however, I kicked it up a notch. The moment I got off the plane I had stripped out of my comfy sweat pants and changed from my sandals to my black “fuck me” heels (I left the pink ones with the spikes at home) and a skin tight, form-fitting dress that Jason had nicknamed my “witch dress”. It was long sleeved, cut low enough to show off my DD’s, and clung especially well around my ass, while just being long enough to cover the tops of the stockings. The dress had prints of the moon on it, and around that all the astrological signs. It was not something I wore out in public normally, unless I was going to a club or on a date I knew would end well. This wasn’t exactly a date, but I knew where the night would end. 

Jason walked into the airport with his father, which made me chuckle. I got a very short “very nice” from him when he hugged me, and then he didn’t say a single word to me until we got back to his place. His father and I chatted. I mentioned the art opening I had been to earlier int he evening, the commission I had picked up because of it… It had been a good night. 

By the time we got inside the rest of the house was quiet. Jason made sure all the doors were shut and my bags were inside before turning his attention back to me. “Strip.” Whelp, so much for the dress. I began tugging it over my head and hadn’t even gotten the thing entirely off before I heard him whistle. He’d seen the garter belt, the stockings, and the black lace panties that I had picked out especially for him. He loved black lace. “Very, very nice, Rena. I appreciate the show.” 

“What’s changed? You had said you were coming to my graduation for months.”
“Uh huh. And each time I said it, you said it wasn’t a big deal if I didn’t go. That we would just see each other over the summer when you got back from France-“
“After I get back from going to Giverny, for you, and taking pictures, for you.”

Oh yes, because he was going to get so much out of going to Claude Monet’s garden for me. He’s not even all that interested in art, and calls Monet’s haystacks cupcakes along with his father. 

“And I appreciate that, Jason, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not comfortable coming down and staying with you after what happened.” 


“Is it because of him?” 

We were catching up. I hadn’t seen him since Thanksgiving, and I had both birthday and Christmas gifts for him. I lounged across his chair in nothing but my underthings, watching as his boner got more and more prominent as time went by. Each gift he thanked me for, eventually getting up and hugging me in thanks for them. 

The hug didn’t remain just a hug, of course, Eventually the hands wandered down to grab my ass and his lips took possession of mine. They moved south, grazing over my neck all too quickly before focusing on my chest. “Take this off” he said, even as his mouth teased me through my bra. The black lace was gone in seconds. As I moved to relax against the chair he instead grabbed me and pulled me to my feet. Before I could process what he was doing he dropped to his knees in front of me and once again turned his attention to my chest. Godde help me, but he was good with his tongue, and his teeth. I let out a moan and ran my fingers through his hair as he all but worshipped my breasts, instinctively parting my legs in anticipation for what was next. 

No, it’s not because of him. It’s because of you. Because you crossed a line and I’m honestly not sure that you won’t do it again.”
“Oh come on! I apologized! I said I was sorry! I don’t even remember doing it, Rena! I was fucking plastered. You can’t hold it against me forever.”
“Not forever, Jase, but I’m not letting you off scott free either. I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You hurt me. You raped me, and it until me saying I wouldn’t go to your fucking graduation for you to apologize for it.”
“I said I was sorry!” I could hear his heavy breathing. He was trying to collect himself. 
“Does he have a problem with me now?”
“What do you think?” 

“Wake up.” 

The order was followed up by fingers slipping inside of me. I had been dead asleep, curled up next to Jason, after he had thoroughly exhausted me. We hadn’t fucked, but he had fingered me to the point where I had cum so many times I had lost count. My body was shaking by the time he guided me to bed. I had thought that would be that for the evening. 

Apparently not. Apparently earlier had been foreplay. 

He worked me into a tizzy, pulling me out of the sleep-filled fog I had been in and taking me right to the edge of orgasm before he pulled away. His mouth captured mine for the briefest of moments, making sure I was awake and responding, before he pulled away. 

“On all fours, on the rug. Now.” 

Quickly, I scrambled out of bed and got into the position he asked, my cheek touching the carpet, my ass in the air. Waiting.

I think I have no problems with him, and that he should feel the same.” 
“That’s bull crap, and you know it.” 
“No, no I don’t. I don’t understand what his issue with me is. He’s not even your fucking boyfriend. He has a girlfriend. What are you, his mistress?”
“No. I’m not. I’m his submissive, and he owns me. My body belongs to him, and you, with your sticky fingers, tried to take what was his. I don’t belong to you anymore. You know that, and you still pushed. How would you feel if Tori fucked her ex?” 
“You leave her out of this!” 
“I’ll leave her out of this if you stop bringing him into this. He has a problem with you because he’s protective of me. He is the one that held me when I cried after telling him what happened. He calmed me down when I felt like I was losing my mind. You made it fucking worse.” 
“… You cried?” 

The normal fucking lasted all of five minutes before I felt the cool trickle of lube down my ass and let out a moan. 

“That’s right, Rena. I’m going to take you in every hole tonight.” I had sucked him off earlier in the evening as a thank you, even though I didn’t care for the taste of him. It pleased him, and that was all I cared about. 

A hand came down on my ass with a resounding “smack”, which only aroused me further. 

God, such a gorgeous ass. And It’s all mine.” 

Yes, I cried. I was freaked, Jase. You’ve never NOT stopped when I said no. This time.. you went too damn fucking far. It didn’t feel good. It HURT. Hell, you pulled his shirt off of me and nearly ripped it doing so. You know why I was wearing that?” 


“So you wouldn’t be tempted to cross the line again. So you wouldn’t hurt me, or Tori.”

More silence. 

“Do you not want me anymore, Rena?” 

It hurt in such a good way, it always did, and he was the only one who had dared to enjoy taking me that way. 

Afterwards, I got a kiss before I went to go clean up. I was sated. In one night I had been worshipped and taken with a vigor he hadn’t shown in almost a year. Happy Valentine’s Day indeed. 

I crawled back into bed where Jase was already laying and flopped over him, the two of us forced to overlap on his twin-sized mattress. 

Goodnight, Jase” I closed my eyes. 

Uh oh. My eye opened again. 

“Don’t get used to this.” 

I sighed. I was tired, and I was late to class, and dreading telling Sir about this conversation later.  

“I want my friend back.” 
“You never lost me, Rena, but I feel like I’m losing you.” 
“That’s because you threw me away. You tossed me aside for a better model..and then when I moved on you were upset about losing your toy.” 

More since. I at this point had become pretty sure that he was sharing the phone with a cricket. 

“You’re not wrong. I’m jealous. I want you back in my bed. I don’t want you in his.”
“But that’s all you want. You want me in your bed. You don’t want my mind, or my heart, and you haven’t told her any of this because you want her heart, and her body when you get the chance. It doesn’t work like that, Jase.” 
“I know.” 
“I have a lot of thinking to do.”
“Please? At least consider still coming? Bring Gabe if you really feel the need to. I just want you here. I need you here. I need my friend.” 
“I’ll think about it, Jase”