"Pleasure is a freedom. But it demands surrender."
— Audre Lorde
~~~~~~~~
Zaya was just finishing her last stroke on a new commission when her phone lit up across the desk.
She didn't move immediately. Her wrist ached slightly from the long day, and her shoulders carried the heaviness of stillness. The studio around her was quiet, windows half-open, letting in the late spring air that smelled like sun-warmed concrete and faint jasmine.
She wiped her thumb across a smudge of charcoal near her knuckle and reached for the phone.
~ Cael: "I'm back in the city."
Her stomach tightened as she read the message. Cael was back. After weeks of quiet heat. Of distance bridged by words, by sketches and songs and slow declarations of want. Now he was in the same city again. And he wasn't asking for small talk.
She stared at it for a long moment before unlocking the screen. By that time, a second message arrived.
~ Cael: "I want to see you. No more waiting."
The question wasn't if she would go. The question was "what she would carry with her when she did."
She typed her reply with measured calm.
~ Zaya: "Come find me then."
But it was him who set the terms. So, his next message came quickly, and this time, it wasn't flirtation.
~ Cael: "My place. 8 PM. Don't bring anything but honesty."
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
🥀 💥 ❤️🔥 🥀
v𝖊𝘭v𝖊𝘵 𝚙𝔯𝖊𝓼𝓼𝗎𝔯𝖊
🥀 💥 ❤️🔥 🥀
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Few hours later, she stood in front of his door again.
The city outside had quieted. It was past dinner, but not yet late. The air carried the sharp scent of coming summer and the warmth of sidewalk heat. Her hand hovered at the doorbell for only a second before she pressed.
He opened the door like he had been standing right behind it, waiting.
Cael wore a dark shirt, sleeves pushed up just enough to show the lines of his forearms. His expression was unreadable but present, focused like always. His eyes moved over her body once with awareness.
She had worn blue this time. A short slip dress, smooth and simple, with the kind of neckline that drew the eye without asking for attention.
He stepped back without a word, letting her in.
The interior of the house felt different than the last time. The lighting was dimmer, warmer, low gold lamps instead of overhead light. The scent in the air had shifted too. Something deeper. Like wood, spice, and clean smoke.
Music played softly in the background. It wasn't jazz this time but piano in minor chords.
He walked past her into the living room, gesturing toward the couch without turning.
~ Cael: "Would you like something to drink?"
~ Zaya: "Water."
He nodded once and disappeared into the kitchen.
Zaya stood still, eyes adjusting to the mood of the room. Everything felt more deliberate. As if the house itself had been told to pay attention.
When he returned with a tall glass, she took it from his hand, her fingers brushing his lightly. He didn't pull away. But he didn't linger either.
She sipped. Then looked up at him.
~ Zaya: "You changed something. The energy."
\m~ Cael: "Because tonight isn't like the others."
He didn't sit beside her. He stood, one hand resting lightly on the back of a chair, as if measuring his words.
~ Cael: "I don't just want to kiss you again. I don't just want your lips, or your breath, or your moans in my ear."
She inhaled slowly.
~ Cael: "I want to take you somewhere most people don't go. I want to show you what it means to surrender in a way that leaves you more whole, not less."
He met her eyes and didn't blink.
~ Cael: "I've practiced BDSM for years. Not as a performance. Not to shock. But because I need structure. Because I crave restraint, and the trust that comes with it."
The young woman didn't speak. She sat back slowly on the couch, legs crossed, water glass steady in her hand.
He waited until she was still again.
~ Cael: "Most people think dominance is about power. About taking. It isn't. Not for me."
She tilted her head, her voice calm.
~ Zaya: "Then what is it?"
He stepped forward, slowly.
~ Cael: "It's about responsibility. About creating space. Holding boundaries. Listening so closely you don't need to be told when something shifts. It's about giving someone the freedom to fall apart without fear."
The room seemed quieter after that.
She looked down at the rim of her glass. Her fingers traced it. Then she looked back at him.
~ Zaya: "You're saying I give you control. But you're also saying it only works if I trust you to give it back."
~ Cael: "Exactly."
She didn't move. But her chest rose a little deeper.
~ Zaya: "And what would you ask of me?"
He answered without pause.
~ Cael: "Presence. Communication. Your limits. Your honesty. And eventually, your body."
He stepped back, finally lowering himself into the armchair across from her. His tone softened slightly in cadence.
~ Cael: "This isn't something we rush. We build it. One step at a time. If we go forward, there will be rules. A safe word. I'll ask questions. You'll answer. Not for me, but for both of us."
She set the water down and leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees, meeting him at eye level.
~ Zaya: "Do you want me to say yes right now?"
He shook his head.
~ Cael: "No. I want you to say yes if you want to and when you feel it in your bones."
A long silence stretched between them. It wasn't comfortable. She was thinking.
Then she reached across the table and touched his hand, lightly, but directly. The first touch she'd given him tonight.
~ Zaya: "So what happens if I say yes?"
His fingers turned under hers, lacing through gently.
~ Cael: "Then I take my time with you, slowly. One sense at a time."
She hadn't moved her hand from his. His fingers remained linked with hers, his grip neither soft nor firm, just present, a grounded line between her pulse and his.
Her body sat still, but her mind was moving, slowly unfolding the shape of what he had just offered her.
It wasn't something she'd ever imagined herself stepping into.
BDSM had never existed in her world beyond vague ideas. She'd seen it hinted at in films, mentioned in podcasts or whispered about at brunch tables as some dark, dangerous curiosity. It had always felt like something meant for other people. Not for her. Not for the way she loved or wanted. Certainly not for the kind of intimacy she drew.
Now, sitting in front of him, the thought didn't feel distant or abstract anymore.
It felt possible. And that made it feel a little bit terrifying.
She pulled her hand back gently and leaned into the corner of the couch. She crossed her legs slowly, giving herself a beat before speaking.
~ Zaya: "I've never thought about this before. Not seriously. I've never... wanted this. Never considered it... Untill you"
Cael didn't react. He simply listened. He had a way of holding space that didn't demand anything from it.
~ Zaya: "It's not that I don't trust you. And I'm curious. I'm open."
She hesitated before saying:
~ Zaya: "But it also scares me. Not in a way that says stop. Just in a way that says... be careful."
He nodded, expression calm but attentive.
~ Cael: "That's the right fear. It's not about being fearless. It's about being aware. This only works if we both understand what we're stepping into."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands folded.
~ Cael: "When I say I want to dominate you, I don't mean break you. I don't want you obedient. I want you attuned. Responsive. Alive."
She studied him. Every word felt chosen. Placed.
~ Zaya: "So this isn't about performance."
~ Cael: "Never."
~ Zaya: "Or punishment?"
He shook his head slowly.
~ Cael: "It's about knowing where pressure becomes pleasure. And how far you want to go with that."
She was silent for a moment.
~ Zaya: "You said safe word. What would yours be?"
He looked at her, thoughtful.
~ Cael: "I used to use "mercy". But it never felt right. Too loaded. Too dramatic."
~ Zaya: "So what now?"
He smiled, just slightly.
~ Cael: "I've switched to amber".
~ Zaya: "Like the stone?" she tilted her head.
~ Cael: "Yes. Warm, grounded, clear. It tells me when something is shifting. Not when it's broken. I don't want you to reach for a word that sounds like panic. I want you to use one that feels like pause."
Zaya let the word settle on her tongue.
"Amber." She liked the weight of it. The smoothness. It wasn't cold or soft. It was solid.
~ Cael: "You'll choose your own. It can be anything. Something that makes you feel like you're claiming your limits. Not retreating."
~ Zaya: "And if I don't say it?"
He answered without pause.
~ Cael: "Then we don't move forward. Even if you say yes with your body, I need your words. Your breath. Your clarity."
Zaya looked down at her hands, then back up.
~ Zaya: "This is more emotional than I expected."
~ Cael: "The best kind of domination always is."
He stood slowly and walked toward a drawer near the bookshelf. When he returned, he held a small, elegant wooden box.
He placed it on the table in front of her without opening it.
\m~ Cael: "Inside are a few things I use. Not to scare you. Just to be transparent."
She hesitated, then reached forward and opened it.
Inside were a few items: silk restraints, a blindfold, a small feathered paddle, a short coil of braided rope. Nothing industrial. Nothing cold. Each item looked clean, soft, and personal.
She ran her fingers over the blindfold. The fabric was smooth, midnight blue, and heavier than she expected.
~ Zaya: "You said this wasn't about pain."
~ Cael: "It isn't. Not unless that's what you want. These are tools. Not weapons. I use them to create focus. To give you a different way to feel."
She closed the box gently.
~ Zaya: "If I do this... I want to feel with you. Not for you."
~ Cael: "You will."
The music behind them had faded into quiet. The room held the sound of only their voices and the steady hum of breath between questions.
~ Zaya: "What would be the first step?"
He looked at her. Steady. Grounded.
~ Cael: "You come here one night. Not for sex. Not for pain. Just to feel. I use my voice. My hands. Maybe a blindfold. Nothing more until you say yes to more."
~ Zaya: "You will guide me."
~ Cael: "And you will keep your power."
Zaya didn't give her answer that night. But she didn't say no, either.
When she finally stood to leave, she turned toward him one more time, fingers resting lightly on the edge of his coffee table
He lifted his eyes to hers, patient and still.
She let the word hang for a breath, then exhaled slowly.
~ Zaya: "I'll think about it. About all of it. And when I'm ready... I'll tell you if this is something I want to step into."
She paused, holding his gaze.
~ Zaya: "Or if it's not my world after all."
Cael nodded.
That was the answer for now.