So, I took Adrienne's advice. While I don't usually have more than one (Ok, more than 2 ) gin martinis when I'm out, that night, well... I stopped mixing them after the third one, and just lifted what was left in the bottle to my lips. I KNEW I was going to feel like shit the next morning, and I didn't care. Next morning? Who was I kidding? If I saw the sun before noon, it was going to be by act of divine will. Adrienne, however, as one would say (frequently inaccurately), was as sober as a nun when she came to work the next morning. She had turned the phone off, knowing that the ringing would probably kill me (that woman thinks of everything. She had even bought four large coffees with her, so she didn't have to operate the bean grinder and disturb me) . She looked at the phone and saw that there were not 7, not 8, not even 9, but TWELVE messages from Steve. As she told me afterward, they were increasingly desperate. And as she sat down to sip her own coffee, he called again. "Steve, I hope I don't have to repeat myself. Please don't call back again. You've hurt Seth very badlly and neither Randy nor I will let you do it again). Apparently he was quite desperate "Adrienne, no, please. Can I at least explain to you what this is all about? I never meant to hurt him. EVER. GOD... He's the best thing that happened to me since I was about 4 years old. " Something in his voice must have gotten to her, because Adrienne is usually more poikilothremic (that's cold blooded for the non scientists reading this) than even I am, but she agreed to see Steve for either a late breakfast or an early lunch, at 11. She had surmised (correctly), that I would not be awake yet. Steve mentioned a diner/tavern a few blocks from our digs, and offered to pick her up. She laughed. "I walk, I take cabs, or I stay put. No, Steve, I will see you, but I will not spread my legs for your motorcycle. I have a pair of decent walking shoes here, and I will meet you there. And she did. As she told me afterward, she took a flyer. She heard his story, and believed him. And then she got to work. First thing she did, was to call Randy. "Randito, this is momma Adrienne. I'm big sister Adrienne today. Listen, I need your help to bring our favorite madame back to his feet." "Did that BASTARD show up? I'll... I'll..." "You'll do what Randy, kick him to death? " She paused. "I apologize. That was inappropriate. But no, if there is to be violence here, that is my job. Your job, young man, is the following." She tasked Randy with doing all he could to get me out of the house on Saturday night. And Randy had a plan. "You know, I'm taking my friend Richard and his fiance' Jason out for drinks. They're leaving for London soon, and this was planned already. " "That would be fine. Now, tell Momma the name of the establishment." He did so. "Wonderful. Now I expect you here tomorrow to help with the office stuff. Seth will probably be back on his feet by then, and functioning. We have to get things in motion." Then she called Steve and gave him very explicit instructions. "Here is the place, and you should wait until you get a text from Randy to show up. DO NOT GO IN BEFORE THEN OR TRUST ME. THERE WILL BE A SCENE. HE CAN BE LIKE THAT." Steve listened, and through tears, thanked Adrienne over and over again. She purred back. "No thanks are necessary but a gift is. I will provide you with a list of suitable venues where you can find a suitable gift. We'll talk after this, hopefully is fixed." I heard the word 'fixed' as I staggered into the work area. We were closed that day, so my apparently ghastly demeanor (Adrienne's words. Those and "you look like you were fucked up by a bicycle gang in Montana), did not scare anyone. "What got fixed? Is Steve's dick in a jar of formadehyde?" "It may very well be darling, but that's irrelevant. Drink your coffee. ALL of it. Then, for heaven's sakes, go wash your hair, change those clothes, and DO NOT MAKE ME CHECK UP ON YOU." I'm used to being called 'Sir'. I'm not used to calling someone 'ma'am.' But when Adrienne uses the tone she did, there are no other options. She's ma'am. Period.
I needed about half an hour to get myself together and Adrienne smiled. "Good. We've been so busy that we haven't had a chance to go over the mundane stuff. Sit with me darling. Let's look at the books. Maybe you can find enough profits to give your hard working assistant a bonus." She smiled. When Adrienne said things like that, I knew she had already found the money. It was just a question of my signing the check (Adrienne did not trust electronic banking) and handing it to her. She stuffed it in her bra.
"Now , Seth, I'm very serious. I have a feeling that this is all going to work out for the best. I really do. So, I want you to stay in tonight. No booze. Nothing. Order in some food. Watch some stupid television show, or a porn movie - no - no porn movies. Find something with Jane Lynch in it. It may remind you of ME." She gave me a kiss on my forehead, and the noise gave me a severe headache. "Big sis is leaving for the day, Seth. I wrote my number in BIG characters so you don't have to squint for it. Call me if you need me. " After she left, I followed her instructions. There is a Chinese restaurant not far from us, that knows my order so well, I just give them my name. As I plowed through the cashew chicken, the egg rolls, and the seaweed soup, I began to feel better. Watching stupid comedies helped as well. If Steve called, I didn't know about it. I never looked at a phone.
On Friday, we were open for business as usual. And it was a busy day. Interviews with subs looking for husbands, setting up dates for several of our Doms, and having a very interesting meeting with a straight guy (and I'm sure he was straight), who needed, every now and then, to , as he put it "get my throat fucked long and hard." Unfortunately, this is not something we have much expertise in, but he was a very earnest, very hunky blond man, and I thought that he might be able to find someone at the brothel my friend James ran. So we made that introduction.
At about 3, Randy came flitting in. "HI EVERYONE. I made pink cupcakes last night." Adrienne and I looked at him. "Did you bring any?" "OH, No. They were so good that I ate them all." Adrienne gave me a look. It said "Randy on a sugar high. TGIF" We put him to work with some of the more boring aspects of our office, and then asked him to look at our website to see if he had any suggestions for making it better. "Actually, Seth, I have a suggestion for making YOU better. " He then invited me to join he and his friends for drinks on Saturday night. "Oh, that's ok, Randy. I'm going to pass. I think I'll" "You think you'll do WHAT? " Adrienne jumped in. "Your plans for Saturday night are probably to look at porn until you jerk off, then drink more of what's left in that liter of gin, and go to bed." She had it just about right. "He's going with you Randy. I will make sure that he looks like someone whom you do not have to be ashamed of, even if I have to dress him myself." Then she pointed a long finger at me. "YOU are going out with these people. Richard is sort of a social media phenomenon, his fiance' is a Professor of English, and Randy is of course one of the most fun people you know. " "Social media phenomenon?" I asked "Yes. Let me take you to his page." Randy pulled it up and I looked. I HAD seen that young man before, and I remember sighing that he was too young for me. And there he was, with a fiance' who was at least ten years older than I was. "Life is unfair," I said "TELL ME ABOUT IT" intoned both Randy and Adrienne at the same time. I'm glad they were amused. But I agreed to go. Randy said he'd come by my place to make sure I didn't back out. I smiled. I was NOT going to back out on being five feet from Richard the cub. I may have been down, but I wasn't dead.
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So, Saturday night rolled around, and Randy was there, looking very chic, right down to his magenta sneakers. "I'm going for a neo-80s look tonight. Do you think it works?" "It's fun Randy. I'm not sure what neo 80s is though." "Neither am I. So I guess it works." We got into a cab, and headed to the bar. It was one of those plush gay places: you know the type. If you ask about beer, they make a smirk and tell you they'll "see what they can do," as someone walks by carrying a snifter of Gran Marnier to some gentleman who forgot his blond rinse that week. Yes, that kind of place. But there were Richard and Jason. Richard looked adorable, wearing this snug short sleeve shirt with bears tumbling around on it, Jason in his tweeds and buttondown, his arm firmly around Richard's shoulders, as if to show everyone that the young man was HIS (DAMN!). Richard seemed to love it too. I had such mixed feelings as he cuddled into Jason. I was happy for them, and hated them. I had been to London once, and Jason had been there at least a half dozen times for his research. He was very much NOT like the normal type of older man you would find in that bar. I asked him why they had come, and he laughed. "Because orsino used to hang out here, looking for dates, and after we marry, it's not going to happen. Not without me anyway." I laughed. I could see that. And I liked this man immensely. All of a sudden, I wasn't TOO envious. "I don't want to make more of this than it is, Seth, but there's someone in the bar who's been looking at you for at least 15 minutes. " Richard smiled. "He's right. But it's more like 20 plus. He looks sad. " I looked up and I am SURE you could have fit a missile into my mouth as it dropped. It was Steve, sitting at the bar, in his leather jacket and, as Dolly Parton once sang "looking better than a body has a right to." Was it Humphry Bogart who said "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine?" Yes, he did. "Casablanca." Well, I was feeling a Humphry Bogart moment coming on, intensified when Randy whispered "OH MY GOD HE'S WALKING OVER." "He's a brave man," I thought. "I'll give him that." Then he was standing at our table. "Hi Randy. ." He paused. "Hi Seth." He turned to Jason and Richard. "I'm Steve. I hope I'm not making a pest of myself." I said nothing. I just tried to look away. "Oh good heavens, no, Steve. So nice to meet you." Jason was shaking his hand. "I presume you know Randy and Seth." "I do. " Another pause, and he shuffled, sticking his hands into his leather jacket pockets. "Seth, if you said no, I'd understand, but... do you think you could maybe spare a few hours for me tonight? Maybe just one? I owe you that." Richard looked a little confused, but I could tell Jason had a pretty good idea of what this was about. I sighed. "And I think I owe you that, Steve. We had some fun together, and if you want me to believe this is coincidence, then I'm opening at at the Met this season" "No, that's Christine Goerke" Randy added very helpfully. "I already have my tickets. OH. If you guys were here, we should ALL go." Jason laughed. "That might turn into boy's night out, Randy. I'm afraid Richard has no patience for the opera. After ten minutes, he's asleep. " Steve laughed. "I'm afraid I'm with him. I'd think of it as unbearable torture." "YOU BASTARD" I thought. "You're playing me, and you're winning." I turned to Randy "We will talk next week." I turned to Jason and Richard. "It was such a pleasure to meet the two of you and congratulations. Jason, maybe some day we can talk about the Victorian essayists and Bloomsbury." He smiled. "Ah. A man who's read. " xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxx
I walked off to the front of the bar with Steve. "I have my motorcycle. I'd be honored if you'd ride with me, but if you didn't want to, I'd understand." He looked directly at me, and his eyes were very close to brimming with tears. There was another part of MY body that was brimming, as I thought of the possibility of having my arms around Steve again. "The motorcycle is fine. Where are we going?" He named one of those high end diners that has pretensions of being a restaurant, but is at least quiet and has decent food. "That sounds good. I insist on going Dutch though." He smiled. "We'll discuss that when we're done, ok?" Randy denied it, but I could SWEAR the three of them were watching from the door as we took off on Steve's motorcycle. The host found us a table toward the back of the restaurant, as Steve had asked for. He slipped off his jacket. I nearly melted. He had on a tight fitting Western style shirt: not unlike one that the blond "Duke" was always wearing. He had two buttons opened, and I was imagining my fingers on his nipples, as he took my hand, and held it. Right there in the restaurant. "Seth, I'm afraid that my colleague gave you incomplete information. I should have given it to you at the start, and I apologize for that. Will you hear me out." I sort of pouted as I told him sure. "I owe you that," I said again that night. "That guy. The guy who's overseas. Phil. Yes, I was in a relationship with him. WAS. He's been overseas for 8 months. We've spoken via zoom chat, maybe three times? I know he's seeing someone in Austria - that's where he's stationed. " He paused, sat back and laughed, as he squeezed my hand. "You know, when he was here, I'd say our relationship wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. He was fucking me one night, and as he shot, he yelled "TAKE IT SEAN!" Now, my middle name is Adam. I don't know any Seans. But that night, after he fell asleep, I looked through his phone." "YOU LOOKED THROUGH HIS PHONE?" He smiled. "So punish me. Please. But I found the photos. Yeah. The nights he was busy... he really was. Just not at work. " "Well, Steve, if I may ask, why did you not break it off?" I heard a big sigh. "Because I was so deeply in the closet that I didn't want to have to go looking again. I answered an ad he had put on line, and then we took it from there. But he had a rule: I wasn't allowed to sleep with anyone but him because I bottomed: he didn't want 'another man's jizz" to get on his cock. He, on the other hand claimed the absolute right to sleep with whomever he wanted. When he saw I was getting tired of that... he didn't tell me anymore." I was listening to this with a great deal of disbelief. "And you put up with it?" He shook his head. "I did. I thought... And now the tears began to flow. I thought I was lucky to even have him. And he made it clear I was. No one would look at me. Certainly no one of any value. " He laughed now. "The only thing he ever said he would do, that still gets me hot, was that he was gonna lock me in chastity until he came back" "Well, I'm certainly glad he didn't do that." He laughed. "Me too."
Then he took yet a bigger sigh "You know Seth, when I came in to see you, I figured I'd give it a try. Things couldn't get any worse than they were. And I saw you. And I remembered what Phil had said about me. But I figured that, since I was a client, if you said no, I could always justify the no on the basis of a business relationship. " He looked down, and then looked up and smiled. "But then you said yes. And I was happier than I have ever been in my life. And Seth, when I think about those few nights, I still smile. They will always be some of the best nights of my life. I thank you for them. But... I wish we could have more of them. Have I screwed this up forever?" Now it was my turn to sigh. I suspected that Adrienne was involved in this, as well as Randy. Randy I could imagine falling for a sob story. Not Adrienne. She had heard too many of them. That's when my phone buzzed. I apologized, and looked at it. And then I laughed. It was a text from Adrienne. "IF YOU DON'T TAKE HIM HOME AND FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, I QUIT." "Something funny?" "Oh, just a prank text. Nothing all that important. To answer your question: no, you haven't screwed it up forever, not by any means, and I owe you an apology for overreacting. He started to speak and I put up my hand. "Steve, if you want me to gag you at home tonight, keep quiet now." He smiled. "I really appreciate you telling me all of this. I do. I'm going to ask you to take me home, and I'm going to ask you to spend the night. ON ONE CONDITION. Tomorrow, with me there, you get in touch with this Phil shit, and you break it off. Period. " "YES SIR!" He said. And then he whispered. "I was so hoping that you'd take me back. I was so hoping... I haven't jerked off in three days." "Well, neither have I. So I think we'd better get home right now." He signaled for the check. I didn't protest, I just said "next time it's on me."
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Well, because I really hadn't expected things to work out the way they did, I hadn't planned any scenes, or laid out any toys, or anything like that. But... Momma Seth is always prepared, and the restraints WERE on the bed, and after we got back, Steve went into them. And he stayed there, while I opened that beautiful shirt and played with his nipples and chest. He stayed there while I shoved my alcohol sodden tongue down his throat (he didn't seem to mind). He stayed there while I savaged his neck and ears , with the scruff that I hadn't shaved in three days (By the way, he liked it so much that I now have a beard. A small one, but it's more than a goatee. It's especially effective when I rub it on his balls ). And he stayed in them when I lifted his legs in the air, and did what my big Sis told me to do. It was clear that both of us had "saved" for our reunion. He came out of the restraints when we were done, and before we went to bed. It wasn't until the next morning that I learned he had had a change of clothing delivered to the office and it was in Adrienne's bottom drawer. Notwithstanding, he didn't get the chance to get into clothes until, oh, around 3 on Sunday afternoon. A former client had once given me a plastic dildo that had very strong velcro stays on its base. It went on the chair before I tied him in it. Would you like to guess how many times I milked him that Sunday? Or how many times he blew me? Or how many times I fucked him? You can guess away gentle reader. I'll never tell. I got a call later that Sunday from Randy. I didn't recognize the number. That was because someone had picked him up at that bar. When he called, he was looking for his second magenta sneaker. It was in the bedroom "somewhere," because they had ripped off each other's clothes in a terrible frenzy, as he put it. I thought I would collapse when he said that the ceilings in the guy's apartment were so low, he had to bend his knees, and when he asked if we'd mind if he stood during his Monday afternoon internship.
Steve left late on Sunday afternoon. And on Tuesday, after work, he came by with a big suitcase. Yes, gentle reader, Steve moved in with me that week.
Is there more to tell? Of course there is. But just a little bit. So, hang around with Madame Seth for one more installment, and then you can come by the shop, and maybe Madame will find you the man (or the second man, or the third man), of your dreams.