Waiting was easy and hard. The entire evening was larger than life, as I stared out at the expanse of the city skyline and watched dusk fall. Your flat was quiet, subdued and open, like a deep inner room of a subterranean cave… with a great view.
There was no time. No world outside. No sound of life besides Nat King Cole and Ella Fitzgerald and my own stunned heartbeat. The loft molded around me like a solid, unmoving bubble. I kept thinking about that first view of you, looking out your car window as I waved from the museum steps. How horribly tongue-tied I had been, even moreso than normal. How complimented I was that you would trust me alone in your own home.
I paced. I stood at your high windows for a half hour at a time. I sat at my laptop and wrote a few sentences to you about your place and my own emotional state. I took a long, hot bath, soaking and letting my mind drift.
Every time I moved into a room, I automatically pictured myself in position there: over the chair where you’d given me those two parting swats, against the kitchen island, bent over the deep bathtub, etc. The little stereo system and rug at the front door warned me of the future each time I glanced down the front hallway; testaments to the sounds of pain and implements that awaited me soon enough.
And each time I re-entered the bedroom, my eyes flickered to the wedge, tucked in the corner, waiting for the same dramatic moments I was.
As the time passed, I kept fluctuating between panic, disbelief, excitement, and dread. What did you really think of me, now that you’d met me in person? Would you really make me scream? Were you convinced that I was a façade because of my stunted vocal ability, my verbal ineptitude… like Cyrano, crafting the written word with ease and poetic fluidity, yet leaving the living up to the shallow and witless substitute?
I didn’t pry. I didn’t so much as look in to the obvious bag of spanking implements lying so nonchalantly on the master bedroom floor. You believed in me, and I wanted to honor your trust.
Besides, my curiosity had enough to keep me busy! My imagination was spinning with images, good and bad, on how this weekend would end. Would I feel like the invisible third wheel to your recent concerns? Would you live up to your reputation? Would we both enjoy our time as much as we’d hoped, or would it be so one-sided that there would be no point in returning?
At some time, I started to clean. The glass table was elegant and beautiful, and I had noticed the glass cleaner on your bathroom floor…. Perhaps I could make it sparkle like crystal. The stovetop had some use, and I thought it would be nice to wipe it down. I noticed some fibers from your carpet and got down on my hands and knees, picking up random clutter to make it even.
Nearly done with the latter, I realized that you could be insulted by my actions, and stopped. I know you are not focused on dominance and submission, but a part of me was happy, offering you these small gifts of service. Mostly, I needed to occupy my hands, or I would go completely stir-crazy with all the tumultuous waiting!
Throughout the evening, I sought the prank. As much as I wanted to respect your trust, I was here for a spanking! I needed nothing but your sadism alone to gain it, but wanted to earn it nonetheless. And the joy of a severe spanking in my near future had my inner imp energized and ready to play! The longer I stayed there, waiting for your inevitable return, the more that imp sought to make itself known.
I could hide the implements, but how stereotypical.
I could brace the front door, but how short-lived!
I could switch the contents of your kitchen cabinets, but that was just not quite it, not quite unique enough for the first time.
Hours went by, and I paced throughout your loft, my gaze observing and analyzing and absorbing everything I could. And finally, as I thought of the warning I had gotten from Sarah about your bathroom locks, the idea struck; if I could lock myself in the bathroom from the inside, it was only logical that I could lock you in the bathroom from the outside… if I turned the bathroom doorknobs around!
Finding the screwdriver quickly by searching where the hammer and other tools lay out in the open in your closet, I made short work of the task, and three doorknobs were flipped around. Now, all I had to do was lock a door, and as soon as you closed it, you would be trapped!
The prank satisfied for the time being, I had only to wait.
Being me, I wrote. I wrote you. I wrote you another email to hold and send to you later. I wrote Sarah to tell her about the prank, but then realized I could blame her for it and double my mischief, so held off letting her know.
In my first letter to you, I said:
“Butterflies, butterflies... building. Oh dear. What have I gotten myself into? I want the pain so much, but everything else inside is screaming at me to undo this negotiation, and quickly!
“Still, I think of your face. Your eyes, the understanding and patience, and your honest desire to cause me what I want. You are everything I could have hoped for, and more.
“Looking forward to tomorrow!!! Since I'm saying to myself, ‘Hope you're prepared, Satia,’ because of the pain I've bartered for... I'll say the same to you, hope you're prepared, because my imp is out to play.
“You may recall, I do so love earning my pain!!!”
I had, of course, just finished turning your bathroom doorknobs around.
I wondered why the words always seem to flow so quickly and effortlessly from me to the written word when my tongue cannot seem to find the same vocabulary. I worried that you would think me dumb in “real life”.
I worried that you would not enjoy yourself with me.
You called a few times that night to check in and make sure I was comfortable and had no questions or problems, and the next day to keep me constantly informed of your schedule. Each time, your rich voice reminded me that you were a gentleman, of character and intelligence… and a short time from being the cause of my deep agony.
And then, your return was only an hour away. That last hour was like a trip home from vacation – the surreal life was ending and reality was on its harsh but sensational way!!