Let's Play a Game

1 - The Secretary

Please enjoy Let's Play a Game. This book was originally published on Literotica as "Days Off with Lindsay - Megan." Please remember to rate, comment, and follow! I love hearing your thoughts on my work, and your ratings and comments make a huge difference in the popularity of my work! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Secretary

In a pint glass, fill halfway with ice.

Add 2 shots of Jim Beam. 

Fill the rest with half sweet tea, half unsweet tea.

Add a splash of Peach Schnapps as a float on top.

Serve with a straw and a lemon wedge.

Rumor had it he was back.

Mr. Weston had left the area five years ago, letting the club grow and expand in the hands of some of his trusted friends. Becca, Jack, Tammi, Jackson, and Paul, plus a few older Doms who had been in the lifestyle for ages, continued hosting his weekly events and monthly educational nights. He came by every few months or so, popping in to verify and meet new members, teach an occasional class, or provide mentorship to a new Dom on a specific technique. It wasn't the same without him here every week, though. I missed him, and although I was mostly over the heartbreak, it still hurt to be in his presence and know I'd been dropped.

He'd said it wasn't my fault. He'd been in an accident with his other submissive, and she'd passed away. So many things changed about our dynamic; he returned to his religion, we stopped having sex, he fell into depression, and I felt... useless. Unneeded. Unwanted.

I saw him a few times a year during events at the bar, and he was always polite and professional, but it felt so strange to know that he knew me better than anyone, and that I'd loved him and submitted to him with everything inside me, and that now we were just strangers on opposite ends of the bar.

He had asked me one time if I'd be willing to let him demonstrate on me for a Shibari workshop, and I'd turned him down, knowing if I didn't cut myself off of him completely I'd never get over him. He was the hardest drug. Hell, I'd moved here to be with him. Granted I hadn't really left much behind, considering my life before him, but still.

At first, I thought he'd get over his religious epiphany, and time would pass and he'd come back, begging me to forgive him. But after about a year, I'd given up hope. Now, nearly five years after the accident, I was in a much better place, but part of me still believed it was my fault I hadn't been enough for him.

I hadn't found another Dom since. Becca had stepped in for me, keeping me accountable to myself and giving me the much-needed authority I needed in my life, but I felt like she was doing it as a favor, not because she wanted to. She'd set me up with a few other people for extended sessions or weekends at some of the cabins, but I hadn't really found the connection or intensity I'd experienced with Mr. Reuben Weston. Still, it scratched the itch. Or I could pretend it did.

The bar, which was aptly named Reuben's, had grown significantly since I'd moved out here nearly seven years ago. It felt like a lifetime ago that Mr. Weston had bought the building, re-branded it, and turned it into what it was today. While before it was a small grungy bar with a picnic table for outside seating, now it felt like a luxury club downstairs, and a dark mysterious exclusive club upstairs. They'd opened the top floor of the building up into a sort of members only dungeon, and only long-time friends of Mr. Weston and those vetted by those members were allowed. There were three playrooms and a bar, with a few tables and some comfortable chairs and couches as the commons area. The common area and bar were fair game for play as well, although there wasn't really any equipment other than some beams above for rigging, and it wasn't often anything really happened in the commons area.