Safeword: Davenport

by Candace Blevins

  Dana stayed put for several long minutes, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she was brave enough to fall in love again.

  Zach was swimming laps when she made her way outside. She stopped in the shade and admired his form as he neared the wall and surfaced.

  His eyes opened, zeroing in on hers, a smile lighting his face. “Hello there. Ready for your smoothie?"

  "I think I'd like to swim a few laps, first,” she said, walking towards the shallow end.

  He met her at the bottom of the steps, pulling her into a completely vanilla kiss that made her feel special, treasured—but wasn't arousing. She pulled away, giving him a peck on the nose before pushing off from the steps head first into the water and powering her way towards the far wall. She managed five laps before she was winded and ready to get out.

  He was sitting in the shade, his legs stretched out in front of him, drinking his frozen concoction through a large straw. She joined him, noting she had the same drink waiting.

  "What's in it?"

  "Bananas, blueberries, raspberries, honeydew melon, white grapes—all frozen before going into the blender."

  She took a sip and her eyes went wide at the sharp, sweet taste. He laughed, and started talking about an upcoming fundraiser for the local arts council.

  They chatted easily for an hour, neither mentioning power exchange. When both had finished their drink they returned to the water, relaxing on pool noodles while their conversation lazily skipped from one subject to the next.

  "Want to take in a drive-in movie this evening?” Zach asked. “Should be a great night for it."

  "There aren't any more drive-ins; they went the way of the dinosaurs."

  "No, there's one just over the Alabama state line, down I-59; about forty-five minutes away."

  "Really? What's playing?"

  "Don't know, let me get dried off and grab my tablet."

  Dana was surprised to discover they were playing first-run movies, and tonight was a double feature, the first show one she'd wanted to see.

  Zach looked at the times. “If we stay for both shows it'll be after midnight before we get in bed. My days are flexible, but if you need to be somewhere at eight in the morning it might not work."

  "No early meetings, as long as I'm in the office by ten I should be fine. If we run by my place on the way out of town I can dress appropriate for a drive-in and get a suit for tomorrow. You sure you want me another night?"

  "I'm positive. Last night I had my beautiful, wonderful pet. I'd like to have my girlfriend by my side tonight."

  How fucked up was it she didn't mind being called his pet, but objected to the title of girlfriend? He was waiting for her to respond, so she fumbled for something to say. “Girlfriend? I'm sorry; you caught me off guard. Aren't we moving kind of fast?"

  He raised an eyebrow, tilted his head. “Doesn't feel fast to me, but I can change the wording and say I'd like to have you spend the night as my equal. We still have to talk about things—what you liked and didn't like—but I get the feeling you aren't ready yet, so I'm giving you space.” He walked to the edge of the pool and sat, swinging his legs into the water. “I love your responsiveness, and I'm in awe of how quickly you can eroticize power play."

  She'd been floating on her back, but sat up, grabbing a noodle for balance. Something he'd said long ago was niggling at her, and now seemed a good time to bring it up.

  "You once said Bethany didn't have a say in whether you took on other sex slaves—how often did you do that?"

  "Not often, and none were long term. I played with others at parties, and a friend lent his wife to me when he went out of town on business—he said her behavior improved after spending four or five days with me, but after Bethany passed he didn't want me around his wife anymore.” He shrugged. “Maybe it was only safe when I was married? I don't know."

  "You lent her to others?"

  "Yes, but there were only a few I trusted with her. She hated it at times, but she also craved being treated as a sex object, so I gave it to her several times a year. Three men on her at once, one in each hole, so to speak. Occasionally just one very demanding man. Everyone wore a condom. You're not sure about this—Garnet didn't lend you out, did he?"

  "Nope, I was his, and he was quite possessive. It worked the other way around, too. He was mine."

  "Does the idea of being lent out appeal to you?"

  She shook her head. “No, it doesn't. Is that important to you?"

  "I like the power, the implied ownership, but I'd be okay without it. I'm not the jealous sort; I enjoyed watching her with others, knowing she belonged to me.” He pushed his hair away from his face. “It's not a deal breaker, if it's a hard limit for you."

  Dana couldn't believe the size of the movie screen, and decided she loved the carnival atmosphere of people walking around, getting food from the concession stand, and eating it picnic style near their cars. The crowd was friendly, with neighbors chatting as they waited for darkness to fall. Zach had brought a Frisbee and they found a grassy area, laughing and cutting up as they exchanged it. One of her tosses went wide and Zach ended up practically in someone's picnic to retrieve it. She walked over to talk when she realized his conversation with the couple was turning into more than a brief apology, and he reached for her hand and pulled her to him as she neared, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her into him. “I was just apologizing for your wild throw and noted their use of a UPS backup unit to power their fan and radio, and started talking shop with Mike here. Mike and Marcie, this is Dana."

  Dana froze, but Marcie began speaking as Zach was finishing, so they both said her name at the same time.

  "Dana? What on earth are you doing? You're on a date?” She spat date out as if it was a dirty word, and Dana wasn't sure how to answer. Still speechless.

  Zach looked at Marcie, turned to Dana. “I take it you know each other?"

  Marcie glared at him and looked pointedly back to Dana. “Yes, she's my brother's wife."

  Dana finally found her tongue. “Marcie, that's not fair. It's been over two years; it's time for me to begin living again. I need to move on or I may as well be in that grave with him."

  "I can't believe you're whoring yourself out—"

  Mike interrupted her. “Whoa babe, why don't we let them go back to their Frisbee, let everyone cool off and think about things. Maybe the two of you can have lunch later in the week. Okay?"

  Dana grabbed Zach's arm and walked away. As soon as they were out of Marcie's sight she felt tears forming, and the hole in her heart growing so big she wasn't sure she could live with it, again. She let go of his arm and ran, wanting to reach the shelter of the car before the waterworks started.

  She'd barely closed the door before gut-wrenching sobs consumed her. He tried to hold her from the driver's seat, but gave up and pulled her into the back, gathering her into his lap and holding her without trying to make it better. Just letting her cry.

  Her grief overwhelmed her, and when she couldn't get her tears under control, she asked him to take her home.

  "I can't drive and hold you. I'll take you home later, if you want, but not like this."

  She both wanted and didn't want his arms surrounding her as she wept. His gentle strength comforted her, his arms wrapped around her, soothing her—but she felt guilty about leaning on him as she dealt with losing her husband, realizing how unfair it was to him. The huge empty spot where her heart should be, the one she'd spent two years trying to heal, was as big as it'd been when she'd made the trip home alone, Garnet's casket in the plane's cargo hold.

  When she'd finally cried herself out, and blown her nose on the last of the napkins, the first thing she said was, “I'm sorry."

  He caressed her back and then stilled his hand, gently holding her. “Don't apologize; she blindsided you. There's no way to prepare for that kind of thing. Do you want to talk about it?"

  "No, I've cried through half the movie, can you please take me home? Or, I gues
s, drive us back to your house so I can get my car and go home?"

  "If that's what you want then sure, but I'd rather you spend the night with me, so I can take care of you."

  "I'm sorry, I need some time alone."

  He sighed, his voice sad. “Okay, let's move to the front seat and go. Your wish is my command."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Thirteen

  * * * *

  Dana moved through the next few days in a foggy haze, coming out of it only to throw herself into the creative process—working until she fell asleep at her drafting table, and going numb when she had to drive or eat.

  She saw several missed calls from Zach with a few voice mails, and two emails, but she didn't read or listen to them. There was also a voice mail from Garnet's mother, but no way in hell could she listen to that one—Dana was sure she was persona non grata to Garnet's entire family now. Had they really expected she'd never date again?

  Her therapy appointment was Thursday evening, and she discovered Kirsten had already heard Zach's side of things.

  "How've you been this week?"

  "Not good. I think the weekend with Zach was a mistake. If I decide I'm ready for a relationship in a few years, maybe I'll find a nice sadist who isn't interested in the whole D/s thing. I just don't think I should submit anymore."

  "What's wrong with submission? Have you decided it was wrong to submit to Garnet?"

  "No, but he taught me, he turned me into a submissive. It's not right for me to use his training with another man."

  "He showed you how beautiful surrendering your power could be, but it had to reside in you already for you to revel in it. He brought out your inner masochist, too. Would it be wrong to let a lover give you pain?"

  Dana avoided the question, sticking to her logic. “If Zach trains me to belong to him, I won't be the same submissive Garnet trained me to be."

  Kirsten nodded in agreement. “That's right. As we get older, we mature and grow. Change makes us different people. You aren't the person you were when you met Garnet, just as you aren't the woman you were before he died. It's okay to change; you aren't supposed to remain a perpetual twenty-five year old—or any other age."

  "I'm not going to see Zach anymore. It hurts too much. Maybe it's too soon. I just became whole again, and I'm not ready for a serious relationship. I know the aphorism is it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved, but I think I'm taking the second choice."

  "Are you saying you'd be better off if Garnet had never been in your life?"

  "No! I'm saying that... Oh.” She let it rattle around in her head a bit. “So, you're telling me I should take the chance? Risk my heart again?"

  "I can't make the decision for you, but I've heard lots of older people say their biggest regrets in life aren't the things they did, but what they didn't do."

  Dana realized she was sitting on the edge of the sofa and pushed back, tried to relax.

  "If we give it a go and get serious, I think I'll regret not playing with anyone else in the lifestyle. I have a chance to explore my kinks with others now, but if I dive into a relationship, it could mean I'll have only exchanged power with two men. Ever. I'm not ready to settle into monogamy."

  "Maybe you should go to some play-parties. Or, perhaps a friend at the club you used to attend in Nashville would host you?"

  She shook her head, started to say there wasn't, but realized maybe there was. “Yeah, there might be. I don't know, but I think I'll see."

  "Whatever you do, I'd like to suggest you consider Zach's feelings, and let him know where your head is, what you're thinking."

  "Damn, you're right. I've left him hanging for days. It's time to put my big girl panties on and be a grown-up."

  Kirsten laughed. “I understand the two of you had an extended scene over the weekend, is there anything you want to talk about?"

  "Not really. I had some misgivings about how easy it'd be to fall for him, but it's not hard to set troublesome thoughts to the side during a scene, convince yourself you'll deal with them later."

  "That's part of the draw—you get to let someone else be in charge, absolving you of responsibility a little while.” She sat forward. “Dana, I want to remind you, if you hit a wall, or if something happens you have trouble dealing with, you can always call and make an appointment to come in earlier. For something big, like your conversation with Marcie, you have my home and cellphone numbers. I'm part of your support system, it's what I'm here for, but I can't help if you don't let me know there's a problem."

  Dana called Zach on her way back to work, hoping to leave a message, but no such luck, as he picked up on the second ring. When he heard her voice he was quiet, so she dove right in with, “I'm sorry I've been avoiding you, I just needed some time before I knew what to say."

  "And do you know what to say to me now?” His voice was icy, and her stomach sank. She'd hurt him. Damn.

  Nervous, she attempted an ironic laugh, but it sounded bitter even to her own ears. “Maybe. I don't know. Mainly I wanted to apologize, I should've returned your calls earlier, you didn't do anything to deserve my avoiding you."

  "Where are you now?” His tone wasn't quite as frosty, but was far from warm. Still, she looked at that as an improvement.

  "In my car, on the way back to the office. Look, maybe I can take you to dinner this weekend? I realize I owe you an explanation—there's no excuse, it was rude, and I regret hurting you. I just...I wasn't in a good place, and didn't think I could handle the sound of your voice without breaking down. I'm working on it, but... I'm sorry."

  "Thanks for calling, for trying to explain. How about I take you to dinner on the Delta Queen tomorrow evening? I can pick you up at your place and we can walk down. Or I can meet you in Coolidge Park if you'd rather."

  "Dinner on the Delta Queen sounds nice, but I invited you to dinner, so it's my treat."

  An hour later, Dana was pulling together fabric samples and paint chips on her drafting table when a shadow paused in her doorway. She looked up with a smile, but it froze when she saw who it was.

  "Sue. I'm sorry I didn't return your call, but this isn't a good time. Please."

  Sue closed the door and walked to her, talking fast, as if it were important to get this out as quickly as possible. “Marcie was wrong to say the things she did, and I'm sorry she hurt you. I know you loved my son with all of your heart, and I know you considered joining him, right after he was gone. I was so worried for you those first couple of months.” Sue reached her arm out and cupped Dana's face. “I still think of you as a daughter, and I'm happy you've decided to move on with your life. You have my blessings, Dana. If you ever find another man worthy of marrying you, I want an invitation to the wedding."

  Dana had hardened her heart against a second onslaught, but this caught her completely off guard and the tears came anyway. She grabbed the box of tissues off her desk and attempted to catch them as they streamed from her eyes, not wanting her co-workers to know she'd been crying. Sue guided her to the sofa in her office and sat with her, silent while Dana tried to regain her composure.

  "Thank you, Sue. I really needed to hear that. The truth is, I like Zach, but I've just re-created myself into a whole person, instead of half of a couple. I'm not sure I'm ready to become part of a unit again, and don't think my heart will ever let me fall as deeply for someone as I did Garnet."

  "It's not necessary to figure everything out right away, dear. You can sometimes just take it one day at a time, and see where it leads you."

  Dana felt the waterworks start again. “You know you're more of a mother to me than my own mom, but how can you advise me on this? On who I choose to replace your son?"

  "Oh, sweetheart, you aren't replacing him. You're figuring out what to do with the rest of your life. You deserve happiness, and don't you ever lose sight of that."

  "Marcie didn't think so."

  "You caught her off guard and ended up on the receiving end of her
emotional reaction to seeing you in another man's arms. She'll come around, but until she does, just know that this is her issue. It's not about you; it's about her inability to deal with her brother's death.

  Dana picked up dinner at an all-natural deli on the way home. She changed into comfortable flannel pajamas, poured a glass of wine, and sat with her food and laptop, trying to find Sir Brent.

  She created a new identity on Fetlife and searched for Nashville and Brent, but that got her nowhere. She searched for the club, joined the group, and looked through the messages. Thirty minutes later she found where he'd posted, and clicked on his name to send a message.

  Sir Brent,

  This is Dana. I'm sorry if it seemed I dropped off the face of the earth. Garnet died a little over two years ago, and I've just been surviving since. When it first happened, I needed to separate myself from being his submissive. I got a new cellphone number, changed to a new email address, and tried to look forward instead of back. I'm sorry, you were a good friend, and I should've let you know what happened, at the very least

  I'm better now, and if you can forgive me, I'd like to get back in touch, see how you're doing

  I'm sorry it's taken me so long to contact you. I hope everything is okay with you.

  Dana

  She took a deep breath and hit the “Say It!” button, and opened a digital catalog to research furniture choices for a client. She worked about thirty minutes before hearing the ding for a new personal email, and pulled up the message, her heart hammering, terrified he'd tell her to get lost after all this time.

  * * * *

  Dana,

  I'm sorry to hear about Garnet. The two of you were so close; my heart breaks for you. I'm proud of you for coming through it in one piece. It must have been hell

  I'm doing well. I would love to hear the sound of your voice. My phone number is 615-555-0125, or you can message me with your number and I'll call you.

  Brent

  Dana's knees went week with relief, and tears threatened to make another appearance. She needed to pull herself together before calling him, so she went to the restroom before stopping off in the kitchen to pour another glass of wine. She settled back in the living room, inhaled deeply, and punched in Sir Brent's number—her heart beating crazily as she waited for the call to connect.