Journal 68
Beatrix 45
Conductor
- Life
- A quiet flat near the hall
- Temper
- Commanding and kind
Kinks
- She leads because he asked
- She tells him what to do
- He does the small things she names
I am Beatrix. I am forty-five. I conduct. The podium is a workplace, and I do not mix it with the man in my bed. Thomas is thirty-eight. He is on the board. I date him. He is not in the orchestra, and I am not standing over him with a pencil. What he asked for, months into seeing each other, was my voice in private. He wanted to be told. He wanted to serve. I wanted to be obeyed by a man who can just as easily argue a budget and then pour the wine. Femdom is the private name. Voice and service are how it actually feels. The hall is empty when we do this. The baton stays on the stand. I am taking what we both already agreed I would take, and I am leaving the music where it belongs.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
After the hall
I sat in an empty hall seat with the black dress rumpled and my heels off on the carpet. The score was closed on the next seat. I did not open it. Thomas stood in the aisle with his tie loose, waiting, because I had told him to wait. He is the man I date. Serve me here, I had said in the car. He had said please, and he…
Read full postThe podium
The hall had emptied. I stood at the podium in the black concert dress, silver hair pinned, the baton resting on the stand where work had left it. Thomas came up the aisle quietly. He is the man I date. He is not part of the orchestra. He stopped at the edge of the stage until I lifted two fingers. You said you wanted to serve, I said. He nodded.…
Read full post