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Licking Penelope's juices from my lips, I wait as Carter disappears to find a towel for me, and I gaze at my lover. She looks tired, worn, defeated somehow, curled up tight against the headboard, her knees bent before her, not even looking at me. Not the Penelope I know. I send Carter away after I towel off, thanking him, but his services are no longer necessary.
The damage has been done. I know it before she even speaks.
Her gray eyes shine with tears, realization and resolve. She tells me shakily that she will never be enough for me. That watching me with Carter made her see a side of me she never knew existed. That she knew I was keeping things from her. We'd never discussed our specific sexual encounters... why bother? But now everything comes out as though the floodgates have been opened, propelled by the knowledge that in one fell swoop, I am losing Penelope. By the end of it I tell her there is a part of me that will always want to dominate and be in control, to be, sexually, the more powerful one. But I can't do that with her because we will never have that relationship, because she's a woman.
We both know it's over. Even as I naively try to convince her and myself that we can work things out, I am mature enough to know Penelope is right: I will always crave men. I can run into the arms of a woman, but I can't escape my true nature, simultaneously the source of my greatest strength and weakness.
I let a few days pass before I go back to Penelope's, but I could tell by the moving trucks she was already gone, her apartment vacated for someone else to move in. She's left nothing behind, simply disappeared like the soft smoke of her cigarette after sex. I knew the insurmountable truth: that something fundamental in me had changed. I was ready to move into the next phase: and for that, I was going to need an alias. Now I had a name in mind that embodied poise, sexuality and confidence: essential ingredients to becoming a dominatrix.
More from Mistress Penelope's diary, coming soon...
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