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Ink my Soul: A Queen of Hearts Ink Short Story by ChaShiree M. (1)

 

“Good evening Sir. What will it be tonight?” The girl at the door asks.

Walking into Stormy, the only BDSM dungeon for 75 mi, I take a deep breath as I feel a calmness wash over me. Not a lot of people would understand the intense emotions that are inside of me to dominate another person. Actually. It is more than that. I have a desire and a need to take care of my ‘little dove’, beyond anything else in this world.

There is only thing I need to do now, and that is to find her. Which is technically the reason for what I am doing here. Every day, I come here night after night looking for the woman who will complete me. And though I play with other subs sometimes, I don’t engage in sexual acts.

My friends think I am weird, because I have only had one fumbling sexual experience at the age of 15 with my next-door neighbor. That experience did open my libido and I shortly discovered my affinity for something ‘different’. After doing some research online and talking to my brother Miles’ friend London, I figured out what I needed and began my journey towards being the best at it.

Unbeknownst to my siblings, I began ordering magazines and joining online groups to teach, hone, and nurture it. Without giving that part of my soul to someone who wasn’t meant to be mine.

At the time I was underage and couldn’t go to any clubs, but I could talk to people about it and that is what I did. I spent a year and half learning all I could about the type of lifestyle I would be entering. There is the equipment, the different kinks within the lifestyle, the limits, and about the type of Dom I want to be.

When I was 17, I got into a lot of fights at school because I have a short fuse. My brother Miles took me to a therapist as part of a deal with the school to not expel me. It was through my therapist that I learned why I am this way, and that it is ok. I thought something was wrong with me at first.

You see, my parents died in a murder suicide type of situation and according to my brother Miles it is a type of obsession that is hereditary. Hence, the reason he has never had a relationship. I know Miles thinks my anger comes from our fathers’ blood. But the truth is, it stems from my inability to talk about the desire and needs I have. Having to hold a part of myself back, culminated in a sense of resentment within me.

According to the therapist, what I was feeling in terms of the resentment and such was normal. Though I did need to learn a different way to communicate without lashing out. It turned out to be good advice.

The day I turned 18, London took me for the first time to one of the clubs that specializes in what I need. I felt I was more than prepared for the experience with all the research and preparation I had been doing. All new members must undergo a club evaluation, training in the newbie room for a few weeks, and given a training sub for a month or so. I knew all of this going in and understood what would be required of me and them. So, all in all I was not going to be given access to the main floor for 90 days and I was more than ok with that. I wanted to be ready.

Once the 90 days of requirements were up and over with, I would go there night after night and patiently bide my time. Tonight, there is something different. When I first woke up this morning, my body felt as if it was wired with an electrical current racing through it. The charge had my body lighting up and working out or helping out at the family shop didn’t helped. Something in my body was not at rest and I had no clue what it was about.

Pulling up to the club caused my anticipation to become unbearable. With the tingling in my head and the massive drumming of my heart, I knew. Somehow, deep down I knew she would be here. My little dove. I knew my life was going to change because today would be the day and I didn’t know how much, until I entered the club. After addressing the girl at the door, I walked over to the bar to get my usual…. a coke. I grab my drink and turn around and spot her immediately.

She is standing in the entrance of the club, slightly past the door. The trepidation on her face is just as hot as it is endearing. She looks lost or even as if she is looking for something or someone. The idea that she is here looking for someone sends my temperature rising. It’s ironic though because I know she has never been here before, otherwise I would have seen her. But the problem is if I approach her right now, I could spook her, and she might leave.

You see, I know my little dove and she knows me.

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