I See a Red Door Ch. 03

Neil walked to the restaurant, west on the Bow River pathway. The autumn evening was clear, clean, and cool, and the aspen and poplars were beginning to turn to golden hues. It wasn't far, and he wondered if she knew that. Had she asked him his address? Had he told her? The last weekend's meeting was a blur, a distant happening and he, at times, had wondered if he had just dreamed it. He had done some reading on BDSM since then, and he realized that he had been treated very badly, but had been lucky in that the wounds healed well. If this ever happened to him again, he would seek medical help to make sure that everything healed. No, he thought, he would demand a "safe word" so that this would never happen again. Not with anyone, especially Alena. Alena, such a sweet and gentle name, such a dominant, reckless, and evil woman. He would end it tonight. The chain would come off, and he would be free.

His thoughts raced through him as he walked, the emerald green of the mountain river running in the opposite direction. He wore black pants and a black shirt, and even a black tie tonight. He had never been so bland or bold, depending on one's viewpoint, in his life. As he thought about this, he suddenly stopped walking and said out loud, "Oh my God!"

It was her! He was wearing black. This was her doing. He started walking once again, the restaurant in sight, wondering what was happening to him. He had to get her to unlock the chain, but he suspected he was going to have to pay a price, and the thought of that excited him. God damn it, he thought; this was not healthy; this had to end.

He stood at the dais at the entrance to the restaurant, struggling to get used to the contrast of the darkness of the depths of the vast room with the light of the row of window tables to his right. The room was pleasurably divided into nooks and crannies where all patrons could achieve the feeling of privacy and intimacy. Before the hostess arrived, he spotted Alena in the far west corner at the window, staring dreamily out over the river, a glass of white wine in front of her. He walked towards her, noting once again her exquisiteness, such an absolute stunning creature.

She saw him and smiled, standing up and coming to him, embracing in the middle of the room. There was that smell of her again and his breath left him momentarily, the smell of perfume and leather, the essence of her, the look of her, dressed in black of course. In fact she looked identical to the first time he met her, the little black dress, black hose, black stilettos. Black on porcelain skin, a contrast like shadows on a moonscape, distinct and sharp, cold and hot, sudden edges, beautiful and dangerous. He felt her corset at her waist once again and his heart raced as she thrust into him, kissing his cheek and whispering, "Your outfit pleases me."

Despite his intentions tonight, Neil kissed her cheek and whispered, "I thought it might."

They sat down in awkward silence for a few moments and to avoid eye contact, he stared around the room; it was empty but for them, as it was much too early for the normal evening diners. He brought his eyes back and they locked with hers. God, even her eyes were black on white, he thought, so intense, so powerful.

"Oh God," he said out loud.

"It's Goddess," she replied, as she laughed. He blushed and laughed as well, and the clumsiness faded.

They continued to stare at each other with complete comfort then, but were interrupted by a young server who asked if they would like to have a drink before dinner.

Without consultation, Alena said, "We'll have the Fess Parker Chardonnay please."

The server seemed surprised at her quickness and glanced furtively back and forth between the two of them and then said, "Yes Ma'am." And she swished away.

The awkwardness returned.

Neil began, "So, I don't really know that much about you, you know. What do you do?"

Alena's eyes flashed; he was sure they flashed, "I play with men, sometimes women."

"That's it? That's all you do? Like toys?" he asked, enjoying the sexual play on words.

She cast her eyes playfully upward and responded, "Yes, I guess so...like toys. I play with them until I break them."

"Really. And then what do you do with them?"

She blinked and pulled her head back as if in astonishment that he didn't know the answer, "Then I throw them away and get new ones. Or I keep them in special places for nostalgia purposes."

Neil looked at her in amazement and not a small amount of fear, "I see," he said, "You're a sick woman, you know that?"

Smiling and leaning forward, she responded, "I used to think I was sick at one time. That was killing me. Now I go with it. I'm a psychopath; I don't care anymore. I just need victims. Like you."

Neil was completely mesmerized, afraid, but attracted, completely aroused, his face flushing hot.

"Look," he started, "I don't think..."

She reached out and took his hand gently and smiled saying softly, "Shh, I understand baby. Don't be afraid. Here's to a nice evening." And she lifted her glass to him, forgetting he had nothing to drink as yet.

God she was beautiful, he thought. She had him like a hand on a yo-yo, push away, pull back.

There were a few moments more of silence and then he asked once again, "Seriously, what do you do?"

"Let's just say that I'm independently wealthy, and just leave it at that, okay?"

"Okay, fine then," and he paused before he asked, "Would you please get me out of this chain tonight? It's driving me crazy."

"Bolt cutters didn't work, huh?" she replied with a wink.

"I, umm, how did you...?" Her giggle stopped him from asking the obvious, "Seriously, I need to get out of this."

"Oh Neil baby... so naïve," she said, shaking her head slowly from side to side, "THAT chain is not the problem. There is a time for removal, and it's not now. I don't have the key anyway; it's on your table."

"My table?"

"Surely you remember the table that I took your virginity on. You won't ever forget that, will you? You were so sweet and helpless." She saw the approach of the server and said slightly louder, "And you're going to look so sweet in your corset too."

The server was unwrapping the shrink cap to the wine and she looked at Alena, puzzled, and then at him as if comprehension of the situation dawned on her, and smiled, "Going to make an evening of it are you tonight? Who wants to taste the wine?"

Alena held out her glass and the server said, "I thought so," as she glanced at Neil.

He was speechless, his face red as the heavy curtains at the edge of the window. He put his hands to his temples as if he had a headache and waited for the wine to be poured. When it was and the server had left, they clinked glasses and Alena said, "To a great weekend...and a very good and understanding server," as she glanced toward the kitchen.

He did not respond verbally in kind, but he still clinked her glass and drank the wine. Clearly he was going to need a lot of wine tonight, he thought.

After the appetizers were ordered, Alena brought a bag out from under the table. "Here's your corset. Go put it on in the washroom sweetie. Just pull it through under the chain and then fasten the front busk. It's back-lacing, so tighten it as best you can. I'll tight-lace you later." She handed him the bag.

"You ARE nuts, aren't you? First of all, why the hell do you always want me dressed in women's clothes, second of all, why here?"

"Listen Neil, a person who is nuts is one who does not know he is nuts. I know who I am; obviously, you don't know who you are."

That statement hung in the air like Casablanca bar smoke in a film noire.

Neil took a gulp of wine, angered partly by her demands, and partly because he was so incredibly aroused and ashamed to be so. "Jesus," he said, and he lunged out of the chair and off to the washroom.

They were still the only ones in the restaurant, but nonetheless he checked all the stalls in the washroom to be sure he was alone. He entered the wheelchair access stall to give himself more room and pulled the corset out of the bag. It was black. It was leather. It smelled of her. Taking his shirt and tie off, he positioned the corset to slip under the chain tracing its way from his neck to his genitals. It was surprisingly smooth and supple, while the severe boning gave it strength. Fastening the busk with his untrained hands proved more difficult than he thought, but once done, he had no idea how to tighten and tie the laces at the back. He was all thumbs. By luck he found the long loose loops and pulled, feeling instantly the compression on his upper torso. Then he found the loops which tightened the lower part and pulled. It was well made, and the laces, while they pulled fairly easily to tighten, gave very little back when he fumbled and let the laces go. Over a few minutes, he had tightened it as far as he could and he wrapped the laces around to the front where he tied them off. He felt silly, but his face was stilled flushed red; he could feel the burn. And like a pervert, his shorts were moist from his leaking semen.

He relived himself, and then put his shirt and tie back on and went to the sink to wash. Nothing showed, but his face was indeed red. He splashed it with cold water, finding it difficult to bend over the sink now that he was corseted.

"Okay," he said out loud, "Here we go. Shit!"

Alena spotted him immediately as he exited the washroom and smiled, as he was not carrying a bag. She noticed his strained and stiff walk, suggesting either a back problem, or, well...a man wearing a corset, and she almost laughed out loud.

As he was about to sit down, she said, "Come here."

He stood in front of her and she felt his waist. Satisfied, she said, "I know this one is too small for you. It's mine you know...the one I wore last weekend. I'll measure you for your own tomorrow. Say thank-you to your Goddess."

Neil felt like an idiot, which was the intent, but he knew that he had to play this out, "Thank-you, umm...Goddess. Jesus!" He sat down and immediately gulped some more wine. The compression of the corset caught him by surprise and the chain clinked ever so slightly on the steel boning in the busk.

Alena caught the server's eye and attention, waving her over, "Unfortunately we smoke, so would you delay the appetizers until we get back from getting our fix?"

"Certainly Ma'am. I know the feeling; I smoke as well."

To Neil, Alena said, "Come on. Keep me company."

Once outside, she guided him into a short alley between a high-rise condominium building and the restaurant and said, "I'm going to snug up your corset. Pull your shirt up and turn toward the wall, hands high on the wall. That's it." He had complied and she began relentlessly tugging on the laces, sucking the wind out of him, finally tying him off and reaching into her purse for her cigarettes.

Neil almost felt dizzy; the corset was so tight. "Jesus, does it have to be so tight?" he said as he tucked his shirt back into his pants. And then he saw her. Their server had exited the back door of the restaurant and was having a smoke not even fifty feet away. She had seen everything and just smiled, threw her cigarette on the pavement and ground it in, turning slowly and re-entering the establishment.

"Can we go? I'm not hungry any more," he asked Alena.

Ignoring his statement she said, "She's a great server, don't you think? She has a wonderful understanding of her clientele. I think I'll give her a big tip."

Another bottle of wine had to be ordered, as he was drinking much more than he normally would, a dryness in his mouth created by the fire in his cheeks. The appetizers and entree were delicious as always. When the server came to retrieve the plates, she asked him, "You haven't finished sir; is it not satisfactory?"

"Oh, no, it's fine thank-you. I just find that I'm full, that's all."

She smiled at him and leaned conspiratorially toward him, saying, "Yes, I'm not surprised. The compression will do that won't it sir?"

Alena exploded with laughter. She was good; she was very good.

Neil, his face aflame, could not look at either of them as he said, "Yes, yes, tight. Very tight." He got up quickly and went to the washroom to settle himself. The restaurant was half full now, and he was sure the other servers were staring at him as he walked with as much dignity as possible. Inside a bathroom cubicle, he breathed as deep as he could to calm himself. Jesus, he thought, was he crazy? What the hell was wrong with him? The corset embraced him like a hug, the humiliation was unbearable...and he was aroused.

He realized now that this was not going to be simple. He was not fighting her any more; he now understood he never was; he was fighting himself. And she knew that all along.