The Scarlett Letters

by Jenny Nordbak

  He didn’t. He just smiled and ignored my asshole remark, which I found even more confusing. I pulled the door handle, but it was still locked. I looked up expectantly, but he had already walked to my side of the car. He leaned over me, waiting to unlock the door so that he could open it for me. I rolled my eyes, but got in.

  Not that kind of girl, buddy.

  We made small talk for the five minutes it took to get to the hotel. He stopped at the lobby entrance, and I found myself asking, “It’s still early. Why don’t you park and let me buy you a drink to say thanks?”

  A drink is rarely ever just a drink, is it? I had to know whether the electricity between us was real.

  Vanilla he may have been, but straightlaced he was not. We had a drink and then tumbled into bed and had the kind of sex that stripped away all the bullshit and left me wondering how I could have existed without him to complete me. It made me feel like I was on MDMA, but I wasn’t even drunk. I haven’t touched a mind-altering substance stronger than scotch since that night. I don’t need drugs to surrender control with Kris.

  Because it wasn’t kinky, there were no gimmicks or toys or titles to hide behind. There was a power struggle, but it was unspoken and deeply intense, and I will freely admit that in the end, he had the upper hand. I didn’t need to call him “Sir” for him to know it either. And I fucking liked it.

  I know at this point, darling reader, you’re accustomed to me forking over the juicy details in generous portions, but I may need to leave you unsatisfied on this one lest our grandchildren be forced to read the gory details of our sex life. It should be enough to know that it was good enough to make me believe in marriage. I don’t even mean some variation of a poly or open marriage. The man blows my mind so much that I felt comfortable, excited even, that I wouldn’t have sex with anyone else again. I would imagine most people wonder “what if” when they get married … what would it be like to sample the other sex or have a threesome or an orgy or … or … or…? I’ve done it all. I don’t need to wonder. I know that he’s better than all of it combined.

  I ended up coming to a conclusion that never would have crossed my mind at the beginning of my journey. To truly connect with one partner on a deeply intimate level, be it vanilla or kinky, is the holy grail of sexual experiences. Once you get past the initial awkwardness of sexual encounters with multiple people, there’s nothing really hard about it. It’s relaxed and all about everyone getting off or at the very least enjoying themselves. But to open yourself completely to another person is a transformational experience. Before anyone freaks out, let me clarify that I’m not saying it’s only possible to achieve this with one person ever, but I do think it can only be achieved with one person at a time. And maybe you and that one person let other people fill holes in your relationship, or act as guest stars to spice things up, but they are still your person … your match, your partner, at your side ready to face down the world.

  I am by no means implying that finding a man is the goal of the journey, but for me, finally becoming part of a healthy relationship was the most obvious sign that I had grown to love and accept myself. You will never find your match until you first embrace your authentic self.

  As our relationship blossomed, I tried to shock him with stories of my days at the Dungeon. I think I was trying to show him my worst, convinced that it was going to push him away. I refused to be ashamed of anything I had done, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified that he would reject me for it. If he was going to, I wanted to get it over with quickly instead of getting hurt when there was more at stake. There was no need to have worried. He took it all in stride. I had been constructing a bulletproof persona for so long that I struggled to let my guard down with him. But he was patient and eventually broke through. At the end of every day I spent with him, my cheeks hurt from smiling. He made me feel like I could do anything.

  He challenged me in ways that I wasn’t prepared for, and eventually forced me to see myself differently. In his eyes, my value wasn’t tied to my sexuality, something that had become muddled for me along the way.

  It all became clear in the most mundane of moments.

  We were walking down a sidewalk on our way to lunch when I felt his fingers on my hips and instantly wanted him. I melted beneath his strong hands, but the gesture wasn’t intended as a caress. All he did was shift me over a few feet toward the building and continue walking where I had been.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked him.

  “I’m supposed to be on the outside. I walk between you and the cars.”

  “Why?” I was utterly confused.

  “Because I’m the man.”

  At my raised eyebrow he smiled and elaborated, “Don’t get your hackles up. I’m supposed to protect you. You’re worth protecting.”

  I was about to sarcastically question how exactly he planned to protect me from the impact of three thousand pounds of steel. But something stopped me. I was worth protecting. I could tell he meant it and it shut up my smart mouth. No one had ever made me feel like that before. He wasn’t being a caveman, but a gentleman. And he thought I was a lady.

  Over the last few years, dozens of men had worshipped me with reverence or served me with absolute obedience, but ultimately it was all about their pleasure. They were doing it because it turned them on to do it. Not because they knew me well enough to think that’s how I deserved to be treated. I didn’t need to be on a throne with Kris at my feet to feel worshipped. He had made me feel like a goddess by shifting me two feet over on a sidewalk.

  * * *

  We eloped in October of 2013.

  Getting married felt right, but a traditional wedding just wasn’t us. We wanted to stay focused on the marriage and not get lost in the wedding. We didn’t tell anyone we were getting married, but needed at least one witness to be there. It didn’t feel right to have a stranger as a witness, though, so we solved this by each having a grandmother present. We told them to dress up because we were going to high tea on the Queen Mary. As the dessert arrived, Kris mentioned that we would need to hurry a bit because we were late for an appointment. They were surprised and apologetic that they hadn’t realized we had somewhere to be.

  Kris explained, “Actually, we were hoping you would come with us. You see we’re getting married and need someone there to witness it.”

  The grandmas were delighted. We met a photographer and an officiant on the steps of the newly built courthouse. I looked into the eyes of the man who still gives me butterflies and vowed:

  Kris, I promise to love you for all of my days.

  I adore and accept you exactly as you are, and for everything you have yet to become.

  My love for you is unconditional and without hesitation.

  I will always support you and be on your team … us against the world, my love.

  I promise to listen to you and learn from you, even when it means admitting I’m wrong.

  I promise that we will challenge each other to grow and adventure.

  I will celebrate your triumphs and mourn your losses as though they were my own.

  I will spend my days by your side and my nights in your arms.

  I take you as my husband ’til death do us part.

  Above all, I promise to love you best.

  So … am I still kinky? That’s a tale for another book.

  I will tell you this much: These days I serve an extraordinarily demanding Master. He’s ten weeks old and mostly seems to be into sleep deprivation and nipple torture.

  With motherhood begins a new journey. Isn’t that the real lesson, though? We talk about finding yourself or learning who you are as though each of us has some finite and fixed meaning to be gleaned from observing our actions. But it doesn’t work like that. We are ever evolving and changing. I think the wonderful psychologist Daniel Gilbert put it best when he explained, “Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they’re finished.”

  Motherhood, it seems, will be the bigges
t test of my newfound sense of self. It is challenging not to get lost in the overwhelming needs of the tiny human that we have created. It’s easy to forget that I still matter too.

  Being a mother has softened my hard edges. There is no need to pretend I’m a hard-ass or put on a tough-guy act. Or rather, there is no point because no one is going to buy it when I’m singing the Winnie the Pooh song in public just to keep my son smiling. Besides, I pushed a fucking human out of my lady bits without any drugs, so I don’t feel like I have anything left to prove in the tough-guy department.

  I feel so lucky to have brought a life into the world who is already surrounded by so much love. As I have introduced him to each of the people who will continue to keep me grounded, I have imagined the role they will take in his life. His aunt Amelia will be an emotional rock should ever he need one. Crazy Auntie Raven will probably try to take him to a strip club as soon as he hits puberty. Aunt Vanessa and Uncle Dom will show him that marriage can come in many forms. His grandma will give him the same unconditional love that she has always given me.

  There were tears in my eyes when I laid him in my dad’s arms for the first time. His grandpa will be a central part of his life because we overcame tragedy and found a way to be a family again. They will teach each other that love can heal even the deepest of wounds.

  My husband, my love, my match will show him what it means to be a man and how to treat a lady.

  I hope that I can teach him to love freely and without fear of judgment.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to my family for your unwavering support, most especially my parents for encouraging me to tell the story exactly the way I needed to, and Nanny for not batting an eyelid when I finally shared what my book was about. You are the most badass grandma in all the land.

  There are a number of people I would love to recognize by name, but can’t because I’ve gone to great lengths to protect their identities. You know who you are. Thanks for being part of the journey.

  I am grateful for the remarkable women who mentored and guided me along the way as a Switch, but also as a human being. They know far more than I ever will about BDSM, but were always supportive and generous with their knowledge. Again, you know who you are. I adore you for all that you taught me, most of all for teaching me how strongly women can support one another.

  Leopoldo Gout saw the potential in this tale, believed in me from the beginning, and offered his wisdom along the way. He also introduced me to my agent, Lisa Gallagher, who is as lovely as she is brilliant. I would have been lost without her sharp insight.

  Thank you to my phenomenal editor, Elizabeth Beier, and the entire team at St. Martin’s Press for patiently guiding me through the publishing process for the first time.

  Finally, I want to acknowledge my husband for being my fucking everything—and also for taking the baby for endless walks to give me time to write—and my son for teaching me the point of it all.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JENNY NORDBAK earned a B.A in Interdisciplinary Archaeology from the University of Southern California. After graduating, she worked in health-care construction. Jenny’s alter ego, Scarlett, is a dominatrix. Jenny spent two years leading a double life, secretly working as a professional dominant at a dungeon in Los Angeles. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and son. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  1. Mark

  2. Henry

  3. Jenny

  4. Scarlett

  5. Tickle Ed

  6. Rich

  7. Sissy Harry

  8. Yoshi

  9. Harvey

  10. Doggie Dan

  11. Ethan

  12. Alex

  13. Vance

  14. Busted Wes

  15. Slave Wes

  16. Slave Trainer Tom

  17. Dominic

  18. Colin

  19. Sir Liam

  20. Lady Caterina

  21. The Doc

  22. Jonathan

  23. Elevator

  24. Ta-da Ted

  25. Eleanor

  26. Spanksgiving

  27. Molly

  28. Vanessa

  29. Frank and Cindy

  30. Daryl

  31. Rich HR

  32. “Oliver”

  33. Erin

  34. Alex II

  35. Brian

  36. Boy

  37. Alex III

  38. Calls

  39. Till

  40. Urethral Sounds

  41. Victor

  42. Lorna

  43. Andrew

  44. Treasure Trolls

  45. Burning Man

  46. The Temple

  47. Kris

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright

  THE SCARLETT LETTERS. Copyright © 2017 by Jenny Nordbak. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover by Philip Pascuzzo

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-1-250-09113-0 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-09115-4 (e-book)

  e-ISBN 9781250091154

  Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact your local bookseller or the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition: April 2017