Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman (25 page)

Anyway, looks like it will be a while until I can share one-on-one time with Regina.   It’s cool, though.  I can use the time to catch up with things.  It would be great to visit with Victoria again, but I don’t dare do that until she meets Regina.  I don’t want to fuel any jealousy Regina may have. But I would like to go out with Pete (the gay guy from my office) some time. He’s so funny! I can never be with him without getting a good belly laugh. He also has a sincere and philosophical side that I love. He’s a solid guy with no baggage or drama.  You gotta love that.

--- THURSAY APRIL 5 --- Calendar days

It was a typical day of missing Regina.   We had a few texts back and forth, but not as many as yesterday.  I figure she was just getting momentum in her mommy/teacher groove.  I didn’t want to bug her. 

But every once in a while, just when I was clearing my head with some distractions, she would surprise me a text about how she missed me.  It was really nice hearing from her. I didn’t always want to be the one to initiate things.  Noticeably missing were any texts from the slave Regina.   I wondered if she was deliberately refraining from contacting the mistress or if slave Regina was no longer present while in mommy mode. Hmmm.

But then a text came in: “This is slave Regina. I’m most grateful for the correspondence I received from you today. Very thoughtful! Thank you, Mistress.”  Obviously, she had received my Bettie Page postcard. I didn’t give her the dignity of a reply.

--- FRIDAY APRIL 6 --- Apart but connected, right?

I went to yoga last night. Regina wasn’t there. It felt really strange to me.  I knew that she loves me, but not seeing her at yoga felt like she was not into me anymore.  I know that is stupid and unrealistic. But I was kind of taking it personally. Call me a baby, but I want her to be everywhere I expect her to be.

I’ll hit yoga again tonight. I bet she won’t be there so I will try to use my big girl brain to tell myself that out-of-sight is not necessarily out-of-mind.  For all I know she probably let Tucker play his Minecraft video game and was masturbating about me as I was in yoga class.  Either way, I’m not real fond of being away from her.

As for the rest of my day, it was pretty good. Pete and I went out to lunch together. We took a hefty two hours.  Of course, when he asked me what was going on, I had to tell him the whole story about Regina. Surprisingly, he was more shocked by the fact that I was in love with a woman than the fact that she was kinky. I mean, here’s a gay guy surprised by someone else being gay (Am I gay? I guess that’s what I am now?).

To me, the really shocking thing would be that I have a sex slave.  He told me that the shock came from him completely misreading me as the straightest person imaginable.  But to him, the kink was more of an activity than a sexual orientation. No matter how hard I tried to explain it to him, he couldn’t grasp the fact that being kinky is a true sexual identity. Whatever. It’s like I said before, sexuality is really complex and doesn’t fit into a neat box.

Even in the kink world, nothing is standardized.  There are for-real masochists who REALLY love pain by itself, as opposed to masochists like Regina who only love discomfort when it is at the hands of her lover. There are fetishists like me who can get turned on by wearing thigh high boots. But then there are other barefoot fetishists who think thigh high boots are a disgusting, obscuring of the legs and feet.  There are transvestites who aren’t gay and there are gays who are transvestites.  It’s all over the freaking map.

Pete was really supportive. He said that he had known something was up with me because I have been daydreaming and less talkative than usual and showing all the other signs of a person with new love.

After work, I went to the movies alone. I like doing that. It was a French flick about a teenage boy who fell in love with his best friend’s mom.

I wore my corset under a loose sweater and felt sexy. I had a secret.
“Regina” was hugging me around my waste very tightly for the whole evening.  Sometimes when I thought about the feel of the snug corset mildly restricting my breathing, I found myself getting moist. I wore my thigh boots and black leggings, resting my legs on the chair in front of me in a mostly empty theater. None of the people in the movie had any idea that I had my own private property, a beautiful woman who would love to polish my boots with her tongue as I enjoyed the movie. Too bad she wasn’t with me to prove it!

--- SATURDAY APRIL 7 --- Blurred Boundaries!

Dear Diary, Waking up on a Saturday without any Regina plans on my calendar is a bit depressing.  Obviously, she has her life and I have mine, but when you’re in love, it’s hard to be apart.

I started the morning with a nice bath and a latte. A great bath usually helps my spirits. For me, a great bath always includes a mellow and soulful playlist. It’s amazing how much music can turn and shape a person’s mood.

Sure enough, just as I settled into the suds and took my first sip of the latte, one of my favorite songs came up: Nina Simone’s classic “Real, Real”.  The lyrics go like this:

I say, real, real
Our love is real to me
It thrills me
With perfect liberty

When you tell me you love me
And you hold me and kiss me
Then I know it's real, real
It's so real to me

I say, real, real
Our love is real to me
Please thrill me
With your kisses sweet

Tell your papa and your mama
One day soon we're gonna
Have a great weddin' day
It's so real to me

So there I was in my blissful bath, listening to this blissful song about love when the lyrics suddenly jar me. “One day we’re
gonna have a great wedding day.”  Crap. That’s a lot of pressure. It’s one thing to be in love, but it’s another thing to consider where the relationship is headed. It’s one thing to think about going on a date, having some fun, and kinking it up a bit. But where is it headed? Where is it supposed to lead?

The way I see it, there are pretty much only three paths.  Path number one: Breakup. Path number two: Long term monogamy. Path number three
: Commitment forever (aka marriage).  And number two  (long term monogamy) seems just like marriage except that it preserves the angst of being perpetually unsure of when the relationship may take a turn to option number one, the breakup. And then there are all those nebulous legalities of legal marriage between the same sex. Fuck.

After a healthy dating period, for me, the real choices are
either breakup or marriage. I mean, what’s the point of staying together without a solid commitment as a couple?  It would only be a means of postponing the inevitable breakup when either party tires of the other’s ways or seeks greener pastures.

It could be argued that marriage could and often does just as easily end from the same fate. But the thing about marriage is that both parties state a solid intention to be together forever. That means you can plan. You can stop with the dating scene. You can buy a house together. You can invest in the relationship… nurture it.
Sure it can blow up, but the intention is there to build on.

To me, long-term monogamous dating for years is like renting a home versus buying a home.  When you rent, you are not as likely to invest in the property with improvements because you know it is only temporary. You are less likely to get involved in the community for the same reason.  By contrast, owing a home gives one the confidence of knowing that any improvements or personal investments in the home or community can be foundations for a more solid and positive future.
You can always lose your home from circumstance, but at least you can bloom until then.

In a marriage, there could always be a fire or a divorce or any other number of unfortunate circumstances that remove all the gain of any personal or financial investment. But if those things don’t occur, the relationship will be better off in many ways. It will have a foundation, a base, onto which improvements can have a cumulative and multiplying effect.

Baths are usually really relaxing to me, but I spent the whol
e time running scenarios about my future with Regina.

Yeah, yeah.
I know it all sounds really premature. We have only been together a few weeks.  But I don’t really see much point in barking up the wrong tree, emotionally investing in someone and heading down a path that will lead to heartache. I need to ask myself if Regina is someone I could potentially be married to.

It sounds so stupid when I put it in such black and white terms. Then there is the whole problem that we are both women!  Two women marrying each other is even harder to digest for me and everyone else than two women having a little dating exploration.  When two women are married, it is called “gay.”  It is not called, “I’m actually straight, but I just happened to meet the right perso
n who happened to be a woman.”

So the question regarding the future of our relationship is now expanded into two big questions: One
: Is Regina marriage material? And, two: Could I be married to a woman and accept the “gay” label? Could she? Okay, that was actually three heavy questions.  But really, Regina would have to be okay with the gay thing too.

What a fucked up bath!  After I got out of the water with
my head spinning, I got a
good morning
call from Regina.  Hearing her voice (and feeling the buzz between us) grounded me again. Talking with her made me feel like that big decision about our future doesn’t have to be made for a long time.  We are great together in the present. We care for each other and lust for each other.  I just need to keep my head in the present and go with the good feelings that Regina brings.

It was a brief phone call, but it was really necessary to assure me that we are on the perfect course, wherever that may lead us. It is just a matter of focusing on the present and enjoying all aspects of the relationship as it unfolds. 

Regina said she missed me a lot. She’s been having a nice time with
Tucker.  She made French toast today and discovered he only likes pancakes. He wasn’t being a brat about it, but he didn’t care for the egg flavor of the French toast. Never mind the fact that she has made it for him multiple times for the past 9 years.  She chocked it up to him coming into his own personality with his own tastes.

I must say I still feel a little jealous that Regina has this whole life outside of my relationship with her.  It’s like I only get to share half of
her.

To shake off my obsessive desire to be with Regina for the day, I called up Pete, who was fresh on my mind and asked if he would like to go rollerblading with me in the Marina today.  He’s not much of an outdoor guy, but he welcomed the opportunity. We decided to meet over there, skate a while, then have a late lunch. Perfect.

I showed up at the Marina and Pete showed up too… with his boyfriend!  He commented, “I hope you don’t mind if Ed joins us too. His other plans got canceled.”

Dammit.
Ed is a cool guy and he is a good fit with Pete, but I was looking forward to hanging with Pete by himself. Oh well, it was a nice enough time. But as they say, three’s a crowd.  Plus, it was hard to see them with their PDA’s and inside flirting jokes and not have Regina with me to do the same thing.  When it came time to have lunch, I wasn’t into it anymore and told them I was going to bail to take a nap.

I went home and poured a glass of wine and watched the Discovery channel about how Hawaii was formed. Lava is sexy the way is oozes and undulates. As the wine kicked in, I found myself daydreaming about Regina.  During one of the commercials, I decided to get a little kinky with myself.  I went to my new kink stash and pulled out some handcuffs and small vibrator.  Stopping by my closet, I grabbed my thigh high boots and put them on.  The second that leather hits my
legs, I feel ten times sexier. Sitting back down with the lava show, I handcuffed my ankles together over the boots. The lava was a pleasant and neutral visual that let my mind drift.

I pretended I had handcuffed Regina’s ankles in the boots and that I was she.  Slowly, I rubbed myself with my fingers very softly. The
more I studied Regina’s ankles in the handcuffs, the more turned on I got.  I imagined that my mistress had given me full permission to go all the way and I turned on the vibrator.

It was really hot being Regina. It was hot to be owned by my mistress. The vibrator, the lava, and the bound ankles had their effect on me and I was soon exploding in delight. I let out a passionate scream, something I don’t normally do when masturbating, but it erupted from the moment and I was fully embracing the turn-on
and the freedom of an empty house. 

Completely relaxed, I lied on the sofa with the comfort of my hands between my bound legs and drifted to a warm and gent
le sleep.