Twenty Tones of Red (21 page)

A
good couple of months after they’d split up she came to a startling conclusion. She realised that she had not fallen in love with him but with the idea of having her fantasies fulfilled. There had been far too much of what David wanted to do to her and not enough of who or what David really was. She also realised that he’d probably done the same thing. He’d been attracted to what he could do to her and not who she was. The way he’d reacted after she had spent the weekend with James had been proof of that. He’d only focussed on what they’d done together. He never once asked her how she felt or how the experience had been for her. It was about the actions and not the emotions.

Once she had fully analysed her conclusions she felt much better.
Neither of them were to blame. It had just been a beginner’s mistake. If you spent the majority of your life craving certain sexual scenarios it would be very easy to confuse the realisation of the fantasies with the realisation of love. It was better that she had experienced that and learnt from it. Now she knew what to look for and what to be wary of.

She was
wiser but still melancholy. It didn’t help that the weather just kept getting worse. Autumn sank into winter and the days were grey and blustery. It seemed to be endlessly dull and cold and although she kept making appointments to visit flats the ones that she could afford were a long way out of town and extraordinarily small and grotty. She kept turning them down, aware perhaps that she was afraid of being on her own and dreading the sensation of moving her suitcases and cardboard boxes into a damp empty space. Weeks turned into months but it was only after a drab empty Christmas at her parent’s house that she found that her thoughts had drifted away from David and some of her optimism and sense of humour returned. Things would be okay. She was young and bright and cheerful and the best of her life was ahead of her.

It turned out s
he was right and she was about to hear a voice that would change everything.

It had been just another day in the office. The team were performing well and despite tough times in many parts of the industry the company was growing. She managed to get away at a reasonable time and as it was late February and the weather had begun to improve a little she decided to walk down the High Street to Mornington Crescent. The air was warmer than usual and for the first time that year carried some scents of nature; the smell of freshly cut grass was on the breeze and the setting sun had put an orange glow behind the clouds in the west. She looked out for these things. Most of London had hidden green spaces and if you knew where to look you could always find a tree line, a passing flock of birds or a patch of distant hillside. Around their offices there was a network of canals and towpaths where, in just a few seconds, one could step away from the noise of the city and enjoy a quiet walk. She was just contemplating extending her journey through the flower beds of Regent’s Park when a voice jolted her from her dreamy contemplation.

“Hey! Red Locks.” Her heart leaped.
Turning quickly she found James standing in the doorway of a camera shop smiling at her in a way that was so subtle as to be almost apologetic. The gentle and caring expression in his eyes made her wonder if he knew about what had happened to her and David and was feeling sympathetic. She said hello and then they moved out of the busy walkway and stood in front of the window exchanging greetings. Her hand was pushing her hair back off her face and she didn’t know where to put her gaze. Not looking at him seemed rude but whenever she did meet his eyes it felt too intense and intrusive.

H
e asked her where she was going and, bit by bit, in uncomfortable questions and half replies, the story unfolded that she no longer lived with David in Queen’s Park and she was about to take the underground to Waterloo to catch the train to Surbiton. As he listened to the news his handsome features were crumpled in sympathy but when she’d finished he started to nod.

“Y
es I know.” he said kindly.

He knew? How? She was
looking at him quizzically when he went on to explain that it was common knowledge within the community. He meant, of course, the BDSM scene in London, and she guessed that he still attended the club where she’d first met him. She must have looked lost and confused because he then gently touched her shoulder with his fingertips and asked how she was doing.

She could have cried
. So many people were continually asking her that question but for some reason being asked by him was so much worse. Of course he must have been wondering if he was part of the problem and had perhaps been struck with a big stab of guilt. She couldn’t remember making any kind of intelligible reply and while she was standing holding back her tears he moved his hand in a familiar tilting gesture and suggested a drink. She nodded and they were soon sitting at a table in the nearest pub.

It was weird
and yet somehow their conversation quickly became quite normal. They had only taken a few sips when he came straight to the point. He asked her how she felt about her weekend as his slave and told her to be honest about whether it had affected her relationship with David. The moment she started to recall her time in Gloucestershire she felt herself blush. It was very unusual for her. She considered herself incredibly confident but her whole body had changed when she’d put her mind back to the two days of slavery she’d spent with the man on the other side of the table. She told him that the weekend with him had been okay and then, realising that sounded vague and underwhelming, added that it had been really good. After hearing the words ‘really good’ leave her mouth she corrected herself and went back to saying that it was okay. Finally, realising that she couldn’t articulate her feelings about their time together she moved on and tried to explain the whole situation.

Yes the weekend away had change
d her relationship with David but she didn’t want him to blame himself. She told him that, with the benefit of hindsight, being loaned to another master had brought to the surface rifts and communication gaps that had already existed between them. He nodded then apologised anyway; fumbling with his words just like she had and spending a long time trying to explain that he had loved their time in Gloucestershire whilst also expressing doubts that perhaps it had been too adventurous and put too much pressure on her relationship. He said that he was extremely sorry that he’d acted selfishly and greedily.

Th
ey drank silently while each of them processed what had just been said and tried to come to terms with the strangeness of the situation. To help them move on to simpler and more straightforward topics she asked him what he was doing in the neighbourhood.

He pointed up the H
igh Street towards Camden and told her that he had just dropped some records off with a friend. She immediately saw the opportunity to tease him. “Records?” She asked, “What are those? Are they flat pieces of plastic with ridges on them?”

He
grinned and took the joke well. “Yes, I’m afraid I’m a bit of an antique collector.” Remembering the journeys in the big car she couldn’t resist asking him if it was opera that he collected. He shook his head. “No. opera’s just for driving. It keeps me calm. Classical guitar music in the morning and then the rest of the day it’s northern soul or whatever project I’m working on.”

She asked him if he was still making music videos and he nodded and told her about so
me of his more recent projects. He described doing a shoot on a train for a rather beautiful R&B artist and she remembered that she’d seen the video on TV.

By then t
hey’d finished their drinks and he insisted on going to buy a second round. While he was at the bar a number of the regulars and local Camden characters went up to talk to him and shake his hand. They all called him ‘Jim’ or ‘Jimmy’ and she quizzed him about it when he returned.

He told her that he’
d grown up in the area and was the product of rather neglectful parents. It seemed that he’d spent much of his youth on the streets and had got to know a huge range of characters. ‘Jim’ was his past, whereas now that he was older and trying to be more grown-up he was encouraging people to call him James. He explained the story entertainingly but was full of genuine self-deprecation and modesty. He spoke very matter-of-factly about himself and even when discussing what was obviously an incredibly successful career in the music industry never made it sound like he was proud or felt that he was anything special. As he talked she felt herself become increasingly relaxed. Perhaps it was the wine, but it certainly helped to get him on an interesting topic and then sit back and study him.

He was even more good looking than she remembered. His eyes had a
n intense dark depth to them and there was always a little diamond of light sparkling in his gaze that made him seem intelligent and alive. Physically he had tremendous presence. The way he stood, his height and the width of his shoulders was commanding and assertive.

W
hen there was next a lull in their conversation he very bravely looked her straight in the eye and made a direct proposition. “Look, the reality is I do feel responsible for you and David. I absolutely loved every minute of our weekend together but I’m not sure that it was a sensible thing to do. But, I wanted to do it because when I saw you in the club I felt incredibly attracted to you and I was curious to find out more. I suggested the idea to David and he seemed keen, but of course I can see now I was just being greedy and it was a mistake.”

She held up her hand. “You suggested the idea?”

He nodded
then pursed his lips. “I’m not sure when the concept was first put out there, but I know that I made certain that I was at the front of the queue.”

She wasn’t sure how she
felt about that idea but as her brain processed what he was telling her part of it latched on to the fact that he was saying positive things. He had been struck by her at their first meeting in the nightclub just as she’d been impressed by him and that was a very good sign. Perhaps the chemistry she’d felt during her weekend of slavery in the country house was real, rather than just the result of constant sexual stimulation.

He went on to make a direct offer.
“So here’s what I’d like to do. None of your meals in Gloucestershire were very pleasant so how about I take you somewhere outrageously nice and treat you really well?” He smiled. “Tell you what, you make all the choices. Choose the time, choose the place then choose all the food. Let’s spend some proper time together just getting to know each other.”

How could she refuse
? They exchanged numbers and although she didn’t really have anything to do in the next few weeks she pretended that she had to consult her diary before she could text or email him with some possible dates. Some part of her was trying to act cool even though the idea of being coy with him was fairly ridiculous. She’d already spent a weekend naked and chained in his country house. He’d seen every intimate inch of her body and yet she was somehow compelled to play a tiny bit ‘hard to get’.

They left the pub and he kissed her very bri
efly on the forehead before glancing at his watch and looking slightly alarmed. It turned out that he was due to meet an incredibly important music business manager and was already nearly half an hour late. The idea was thrilling. She couldn’t help but hope that spending time with her had been more important than developing his career. It seemed a tiny thing but it gave her hope that he was as mesmerised by her as she was by him.

She didn’t travel back to her brother’s house she floated. It wasn’t just the two glasses of wine that lifted her off the ground it was bumping into the man of her dreams and finding him even nicer and more interesting than she’d remembered. She felt herself getting more and more excited about the possibility of going out with him but found a way to calm her thoughts. She told herself that she mustn’t make the same mistake twice. She’d been more in love with the kinky things that David had done to her than she had with the man himself. She didn’t want to do that with James. She had to push her sexual fantasies aside and try to build a relationship that was built entirely on personal connection. Perhaps she’d made James into a symbol of masculine dominance instead of a real person. She needed to take things slowly and not let her sexual obsession cloud her judgement.

Despite all her best intentions her erotic dreams began again in earnest. Sometime in the middle of the night she awoke desperately aroused after a very detailed and vivid fantasy. Not surprisingly it featured her and James in a pub in Camden. It was not the pub where she’d met him though, it was set in a much bigger place just around the corner from her office. The scene had begun with a few regulars staying behind after hours for a lock-in. She was with James and they were snogging passionately at the bar. As they kissed he started to undress her and she did nothing to stop him. She was soon standing in nothing but a pair of high heels while his tongue was probing the inside of her mouth. She was incredibly turned on and the rest of the pub were watching them. The barman came down and passed James endless coils of rope and he started to tie her. He pulled her arms tight behind her back then put loop after loop around her shoulders and chest. He continued to work downwards and put tight cords between her legs that pulled her pussy open and left her exposed to view. The whole time the crowd were cheering and laughing. She had become just a sexual object for their entertainment and she was secretly loving it.