Get to know each other a little. Then I will decide if there’s a place for you in my dungeon.”“That sounds great. When would you like to meet?”“Tomorrow at seven?”“I’ll be there.”“Good. I’ll text you the address shortly. It’s a quiet little spot downtown. I’ll be there at seven sharp, so don’t keep me waiting.”“Yes, Miss Demonica.”“You learn fast. I like that, Camilo. See you tomorrow night.”He’d been waiting at a table in The Elephant Room jazz club for ten minutes when Mistress Demonica walked in. Camilo’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open as soon as he spotted her. She was every bit as stunning as her pictures on Fetlife. Maybe more so.The dark skinned Goddess’ appetite for leather and latex had not been overstated. Her dark hair fell around her head in luscious waves. A tight, black leather jacket was wrapped around her bosom and midsection, gleaming in the dim light of the club. Her scarlet-red leather pants were full and voluminous, the thick, shiny material creasing in. “Oh, that’s ok, I fully understand.” Nonchalantly, I pulled on my shorts, continuing the conversation, “ I would probably keep you awake anyway.” He rose from the bed, searching for his clothes. He inched closer and closer to me. With every step he took, my rage and hurt began to build. I quickly retreated to his tiny bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror. “You stupid slut,” I muttered to myself, “You got what you deserved.” The tears began to fall. I flushed the toilet to cover the noise of my sobs. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to regain composure and formulate the lie. The lie that he had not hurt my feelings, the lie that he could not hurt my feelings, and the biggest lie of them all, that I did not love him and what had occurred was merely sex, nothing more. I rounded up my purse and car keys, preparing to leave. There was polite conversation between us as he walked me to the door. There was a hug and a peck as he ushered me to my.
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