I take a deep breath and reach into my pocket, retrieving my cell phone. It’s the right address. I’m standing in front of one of those new luxury towers popping up all over Brooklyn. Glass and steel, floor to ceiling windows - opulence for new money. Doorman building. Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. I shift my backpack and walk toward the door. It slides open silently.
The doorman immediately catches my eye and nods. Attentive. He’s portly, but his hair is neatly parted, his white shirt and black slacks clean and pressed. I approach the desk and smile. “Good evening - I’m here for 14C.”
"Of course, sir - can I have your name?"
"It’s Adam," I lie. "I’m a friend of Mike’s."
He picks up the phone, punches in a few numbers. “Yes, hello, Miss - I have an Adam here, he says he’s a friend of Mr. Smith.” Pause. “Very well, then.” He hangs up, smiles, and waves me on. “Elevators to fourteen are to your left.”
"Thank you."
The doors are black glass polished to a mirror’s sheen. I call the elevator, and it opens immediately. As it ascends, my pulse quickens. My fingers are tingling. I haven’t been this nervous in years.
Two weeks earlier, I found her photo on a dating site. In the thumbnail I could see she wore a black lace bra, stretched out on with her arms over her head. Slender frame, flat stomach. Of her face, only her plump lips were visible in the frame. Enough to pique my interest. The profile laid out the details:
”You’re looking at my pet. I manage this profile for her. If you like her, and I like you, we will meet for a drink or a coffee. I will you tell you about myself, and about her, and our relationship; you will tell me about yourself, and why this offer intrigues you. If I like you, I will set up a meeting with her. I will not tell her anything about you. You will come her place at the agreed-upon time, and she will submit to you.”
I read the paragraph several times over, getting harder as I went. The pictures were alluring on their own, but this was something else. I couldn’t think of a scenario that would make a person more helpless, and I immediately started thinking about her. Would she be scared? Voracious? Would he let me bind her? Has she done this before? Would they talk about it later? There was a picture of her in the shower, turned away from the camera in a fogged glass door. I couldn’t see all of her, and that made me want her more. I started writing immediately: “I think I can cut through some of the noise you’re about to receive”, I wrote. I talked about my experience with my past relationships, how my primary partner was interested in being used the same way, how I thought I could walk the line between providing her what she wanted and keeping her safe. I didn’t expect to hear back.
I was surprised to see an email the next morning. Straight and to the point: “I’d like to meet and speak in person. Are you free Monday evening?” I made the time. He sends me his picture, and we set the date.
Come Monday, I was nervous. I’ve never done this before. I read over the profile again, admiring her again. I wonder: “Do I really want to do this?” and realize I’m hard. That settles that question. After work, I walk through the cold windy evening to the bar. It’s dim and amber-lit inside. Quiet music and the hum of conversation. I scan the room and see he’s already there. We shake hands, he mutters a hello with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I order a Manhattan, and we head to a booth in the back.
He sits down across the table, scowling. Immediately, he starts with questions: “Why do you want to do this?”
"I’m Dominant, and I like power play," I begin. "This strikes me as an extreme form of that, and-"
"How do I know you won’t hurt her?"
"I’ve been doing this for years, I’m sane - I could put you in touch with previous partners. I co-"
"Are you disease-free?"
I’m losing my patience. Already, this doesn’t smell right. He’s not even letting me finish a sentence. “Yes, I practice safe sex and I get test-“
"Have you done this before?"
I stop, take a sip of my drink. He’s running his hand through his hair, and I notice a wedding ring. His hand is shaking slightly. “Look, maybe we should step back. You seem nervous, and I’m confused. You put the profile up, you contacted me. I’m feeling a lot of hesitation. Are you OK with this at all?”
"Yes." A pause. "I think." A sigh. "I don’t know."
"Ok, let’s start from the beginning…" I ask her name. (Kate.) How long they’ve been together. (5 years.) He tells me that she’s always been kinkier than him, that he tried but couldn’t give her what she asked for. Suddenly it clicks.
"Wait - she wrote the profile for you, didn’t she?"
He looks back at me, puzzled. “Yeah. How did you know?”
"It reads like a fantasy, and from the way this conversation is going it’s clear it isn’t yours."
"We talked it through, I am turned on by the idea of turning her over to someone else, but the BDSM stuff… I don’t know. I can’t do it. I don’t want her to get hurt by some wacko. I’m just getting cold feet."
"That’s fine, so was I earlier today." He laughs for the first time. Our first round is nearly finished. I pause and look him in the eye. "Look, I don’t want to waste your time. I’m not comfortable with this until you are. I don’t have any interest in breaking up a marriage. So if you think through it and get comfortable, I’m still interested. You have my number, just let me know."
He sighs. “Thanks. I will.”
"Alright, hope to hear from you." I grab my coat, and walk back into the windy evening.
———-
It’s a week before I receive the text: “Thought it through. Let’s meet again.” Same place and time. When I walk in, this time he meets my eye and smiles. He tells me about the specifics of her fantasy, her limits, and her safeword. I clarify on some minor points. References aren’t mentioned again. He sums up what she likes: “She likes it pretty rough - she’s never even hesitated with anything I’ve tried with her,” he says. “She knows I have someone in mind, and she’s been grilling me for details.” He grins. “She hasn’t gotten any. So are you still interested?”
Of course I’m interested. And here I am, in an elevator, chest thumping, about to go into a stranger’s apartment and fuck his wife.
Part 2 on it’s way shortly…