I like knowing that they’re having just as much fun as me.
And I like that at the end of the night, when I walk out of Anchored, I’m leaving them at the door.
It’s fucked up, but I don’t really care.
Anchored is my release. It’s my safe space. It’s my haven. Anchored is where I go because I have nowhere else to go. Anchored is the only time I get to myself, and I take it. It’s the only time I have away from my daughter. It’s the only time I can be me.
I’m not the best mother in the world. I certainly wasn’t the best wife. When Cameron died, he left me alone. He left me without anyone in the world. Even now, I don’t have anyone. It’s been two damn years since he died and I have no one.
No one.
But I have Anchored.
I have this place where I can forget, for just a couple of hours, that I’ve lost my true love.
I have this place where I can forget, for just a little while, that my life fell apart and I’m only starting to rebuild it.
I have this place where I can forget, for just a tiny bit of time, that I am completely alone in this world.
I have this place.
And I’m not giving it up.
I’m not going to get in a relationship with one of my play partners only to have us break up. Then coming to the club would be awkward, weird, and uncomfortable. I’m not going to get into a relationship where we have a fight, and then neither one of us goes to the club. I’m not interested in that.
I don’t want to sacrifice my safe space for the temporary satisfaction of being someone’s romantic partner. That’s not what I want and it’s certainly not what I need. That’s not for me.
So at the end of the night, after I play with Mistress D, I’ll spend some time crying in the locker room showers. I’ll wash my hair. I’ll clean my face. And then I’ll get dressed, get in my car, and go back to the real world, where I am a mother, and a childcare worker, and a widow.
I’ll go back to the real world where everything hurts.
I’ll go back to my life as a solitary person.
I’ll go back to my world.
“Christina,” I hear a sharp, crisp voice, and I turn. A tall black woman with braids tumbling past her shoulders is walking toward me. A corset pushes her breasts up and out. She’s wearing tight leather pants and stilettos that are even taller than Odessa’s.
Instantly, I drop to my knees, palms down. I bow my head and I wait quietly for my Domme of the night to tell me how I’ve done so far. I wait until she tells me it’s time. I wait until she tells me she’s ready.
And when Mistress D tells me I look beautiful, and that she’s ready to play with me, I take her hand, and I walk into the world of Anchored.