Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman (18 page)

ME

I have an idea. Let’s get the waiter to take our pictures together. You two can
Instagram it and tell everyone you had a great lunch date.

Both guys were overjoyed at the proposition. 

We all got up and stood by the table. Josh flagged down a waiter and handed him a phone to take the picture.

We used all our feminine allure to make this a photo that any guy, especially dot-commers, would be thrilled to show their friends.  They could put it on their office cork board. “Cheese!” and the picture was snapped. The boys thanked us profusely and then headed out. We sat back down to continue our meal and conversation:

ME

I bet those fuckers are rich!

REGINA

Did it give you pause? Would you want to be with a guy like that?

ME

I would be a whore.  There would be no reason in the world to be with a person like that.  I would never fit. I could never be
emotionally or sexually satisfied.

REGINA

Me neither.

After the meal,
we thought we should split up for the rest of the day. She had laundry to do and I had to take care of some errands. We could have done everything together, but I think we were both feeling like a little air between us would be good. It’s super important for everyone to have their own space. Besides, we had had a pretty incredible and intense few days and there is no way we could keep that pace up without flaming out in our lives outside the relationship.

She unplugged the extension cord and we headed out on her bike with a nice new charge!

When she dropped me off, we both got a little melancholy and decided to have dinner out together, making a promise not to play the game or end up at either of our homes together.  Dinner would just be Regina and I catching up. The mistress would have to stay home and pout.

I finished doing my errands and paying a few bills, still buzzing with thoughts of Regina.  It was a pretty warm day (which is funny because Regina had been wearing thigh boots), so I thought I’d hit the beach and crash on a blanket.

I went to Ocean Beach. First, I took a walk along the water, then put out a blanket and crashed out.  I was asleep in just a couple minutes. Everything felt cheery and magical.  I must have slept a really long time because I woke up, freezing from a foggy breeze coming in.

I checked the time and found out it was almost 6pm!  I was supposed to meet Regina at 7.  Shit.  I raced home as fast as I could and jumped in the shower at 6:28 to wash the sand off.  At 6:50, I called Regina to let her know I was running a tad late. She was already at the restaurant! Well, it wasn’t really a restaurant.  We were meeting at Steep Brew, a basic burger/Americana pub at 17
th
and Rhode Island St. We thought a mundane place would be less sexually charged than a fancy romantic joint.

I zipped over there as fast as possible and made it just about 12 minutes late. “Hey, Stranger,” she welcomed. We hugged and I sat down. It was funny, we had been so intimate and exposed to each other in private that now it almost felt like we were college roomies meeting after 5 years apart.  It was like war buddies getting together later. We had to reacquaint ourselves with each other in the light of the everyday world. 

Clearly, we still had a giant chemistry toward each other, but we both wondered if there was more to explore with each other than kink. We bounced back and forth with some meaningless small talk, while trying to size each other’s personalities up. Would we be best friends if we had never explored kink together?

My question would be answered within the first 5 minutes of ordering. We were at a table where my side was the booth and Regina’s side was a chair.  Regina left her chair and came over to park on my side in the booth, scooting in as tight as she could to me. That quasi-awkward start across the table only turned out to be the result of two people with entirely different lives suddenly trying to merge with someone new.

Surprisingly to me, being close to her physically in that moment was a much stronger feeling than my fear about being seen in public “with” a girl.  It was that same excitement I remember feeling in junior high when I went on a date with a guy I really liked and he put his arm around me.

It was shocking that someone could actually like me enough to hold me in public and not be ashamed or nervous that it would damage their reputation. Maybe it is my self-esteem, but I have often felt like an imposter in cases like that. You know, they must think I’m someone else from my façade. Or… maybe they wouldn’t be so affectionate in public if they knew the real me inside.

I was always fine in public as the life of the party… the “hot” girl in the black dress who would do daring things.  But when things got up close and personal, I tended to be less confident.  For me, it has always been easier to fuck like a whore than to have someone hold my hand.

In retrospect, I think I also felt like my kink was shameful and could never be revealed. So in a sense, I was somewhat shallow with people who were interested in me. I didn’t want them to know that there was something wrong with me.

But there I was with Regina. She had primed the pump by sitting so close to me and suddenly I felt safe to reciprocate the touching.  I was rubbing her neck and ear as we chatted about the vanilla parts of our lives. 

She told me how Tucker is really complex. He has an amazing sensitive side, super empathetic. He writes poems like this one Regina pulled out of her purse to read me:

“Love is a triangle between a healthy body, a healthy soul, and a friendly smile. Love is mommy when she reads to me and looks at me.”
    Remember, this kid is only 9!

Regina said it is really common for him to write and say things like this. And he doesn’t always focus them on her.  He tends to exude this sensitivity that seems out of place for a kid his age.

But Regina went on to describe how he is complex.  While he does have this extremely sensitive side, he also has a bit of a self-righteous streak. It is common for him to put others down and judge others. For example, Regina says Tucker often says stuff like, “That guy has a big fat gut!  He shouldn’t be drinking that soda.”

So Tucker has this yin yang thing that seems a little extreme on either side. Regina tries to never talk about people pejoratively or in a judgmental way and she didn’t remember her ex doing it either. She thinks it is the way Tucker is coping with the divorce somehow.   But he does well in school and seems to have balance, so she isn’t worried about him.

After explaining all this about Tucker, she hit me with a zinger: “Can you believe how blue the sky was today?”

Shit! I was coming to terms with trying to be close to this woman and she has to haul off and start game playing. I really wanted to be with Regina, not that fucking slave. I wasn’t in the mood.  We never came up with rules about what to do when one person wants to play the game and the other doesn’t.  Great.  Frustrated, and being yanked out of my warm and fuzzy bubble, I scoffed as the Mistress, “What do you want? This had better be good.”

Regina, I mean the slave, apologized for bothering me, but said she wanted to give me a present. She handed over a box with a bow on it.  I opened it to discover a very expensive-looking black leather corset.  This was the kind of corset that was functional, not just lingerie. It was boned and had a very stiff feel that could easily be laced up tightly to constrict breathing and also substantially suck in one’s waist.

I always thought corsets were sexy and feminine, especially when they were the real thing like this one.  A flimsy little lace one wouldn’t do it for me.

Regina looked at me for approval of the gift she had given me.  I wasn’t quite sure how to react so I just decided to be honest.

“Come with me,” I commanded, leading her to
the bathroom. She followed me across the restaurant and into the single toilet bathroom where I locked the door behind us.  I took off my top and bra and held the corset in place against my bare skin. “Lace it up,” I told her. The corset was foreign to both of us and she struggled for a moment to figure out the lacing in the back.

But it wasn’t long before I felt the leather tightening up to my tummy. Corsets are designed to be laced from the center first, then tightened outward from the middle.   She was really cinching my stomach and I was literally feeling constricted.

She heard my groans growing as the tightness increased toward discomfort. She had the awareness of my discomfort and finally started moving outward on the lacing.  The corset was pulling in around my chest and also around my lower back and I was getting turned on.  It was a half-cup corset and gently lifted my breasts up as it got tighter. My nipples were exposed just above the top of the leather.

When Regina got everything about as tight as I could stand it, she tied off the balance of the string firmly around my waist.  The thing about a corset is that the more you tighten, the more left over string there is when you are done. I would say there was at least 5 feet of extra string when I was all cinched in.  I could actually feel my pussy getting wet from the mere act of being constricted by Regina.

It felt like no kind of bondage I could imagine. I felt solid and powerful, even though every single bit of my torso was compressed beyond comfort. It is kind of like heels, they make me feel strong, even though, technically they make a woman more vulnerable.

I looked in the mirror as Regina watched on. It was clear that this was definitely a great look on me (although maybe not the greatest look with my yoga pants). I wanted to enjoy the appearance a bit. She was standing behind me and I told her to put her hands around my corseted waist and show me that she adores me.

Her arms went around and she hugged me close from behind. She began kissing my neck as I watched in in the mirror. It was unbelievably sexy to see her delicate hands on the dark leather as she licked and kissed my neck.  Either she got bolder or lost herself in the sensuality of the moment, but she started playing with my nipples just above the corset. It was super hot to watch.

She was really in touch with me and quickly read my mind that I wanted her to finger me. With one hand on my nipple, she used the other hand to stimulate me where I was aching for touch. Simultaneously, she had moved from kissing my neck to alternately focusing on my ear and mouth.  As for me, I was just taking it all in, spying from the mirror.  It felt like I was someone else watching. It was a sexy movie in the mirror.  But things escalated quickly as she played with my clitoris and gently fingered me under my yoga pants.

For real… the corset made it hard to breathe. I was short of breath and it got worse the more I got turned on.  Just then, Regina shocked me by slipping her left hand over my mouth and pulling in tight, while pinching my nose to cut off my breathing.  I was suffocating and writhing under her touch and started to come violently. The whole time I was coming, she kept her hand over my mouth and nose. It was a burning orgasm that took me to places I have never been before. I was weak, suffocating, and could hardly stand.

She sensed when I was finished and removed her hand from my mouth. I gasped with all my might for air and kept panting desperately.  She softly hugged me as I gradually came down. Keep in mind, the entire time we were in the bathroom, the only words spoken were “Lace it up.” The silence stood to heighten the sensuality of everything that was going on.

Finally calming down, I turned around and hugged her with incredibly warm feelings.  She smiled softly, realizing that her gift was a success with her mistress.  We kissed for a long time; there was such a connection to the moment… to each other.

I broke the silence by softly speaking, “ You are very thoughtful slave. You will be rewarded.” Then we kissed again before separating.  It was a strange scene because she had dominated me, but the mistress didn’t seem to mind. It all happened organically. The slave had been suffocating and fondling the mistress. I guess sometimes you have to turn the other cheek when a slave is presumptuous or disrespectful. It’s a matter of picking one’s battles.

I put my top on over the corset because I really wanted to keep it on. With no bra, my erect nipples were super visible through the fabric. Also, that fact that my boobs were pushed upward was adding to the effect. Oh well, people would have to deal with my nipples. The corset felt amazing and I was certainly not going to do anything to stop that feeling.