The House of Pain Read Online Free PDF

I’m unfazed. The entire thing is too bizarre. “Explain, please,” I say. “Give what a try? What do you want from me?”
    He looks less annoyed in the face of my genuine confusion. He smiles. He’s got a really nice smile. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m not doing this well.”
    “I’m looking for a partner that would be interested in doing some of the same kind of things you did at the House of Pain, but with sex being part of the package,” he says. “In privacy, with me, not in front of an audience.”
    “You want me to sleep with you?” Clarity slowly emerges.
    He nods. “It is a lot harder than you’d think to find someone who’s interested in the same sexual kinks as you are, especially if you want to stay clear of Internet dating.”
    “So, I’d be your submissive?” I ask.
    “I don’t like labels. But, for the purposes of this conversation, yes.” The waitress arrives with our food and we both stop talking as she sets the plates down.
    I eat with my thoughts on his offer. I’m startled to realize I’m actually considering it. This is my chance to find out if this is what I want in a sexual relationship. And his comments about Internet dating are spot-on. I’ve dated online before, but I don’t think I’d ever go about trying to find someone to dominate me on the Internet. Too much potential for serious harm.
    “Let me think about it,” I mutter.
    He doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course,” he says smoothly. We finish eating. He pays, waving off my attempts to reach for my wallet, and we head back to the office. He writes his cell phone number on the back of a business card and hands it to me. “Call me if you are interested.”
    I ponder his offer all week.
    ***
    In the end, two things make me call him.
    The first reason is that I’ve signed my offer letter and I’ve given work my two weeks of notice. I would have never called Doug otherwise; that’s just too complicated. But we will not work in the same company in two weeks.
    The second reason is cruder. I come back home late Saturday night, and I masturbate to the thought of Doug’s eyes on me as John whips me. As my powerful, shuddering orgasm dies down, I resolve to call him. Just one time, to see what it’s all about.
    I call him Sunday mid-morning.
    ***
    “Doug?” I ask hesitantly, as his voice says hello. “It’s Sara White. Umm, we had lunch last week?”
    “I know who you are, Sara.” His voice is amused. I flush.
    I’ve rehearsed what I’m going to say to him a couple of times, but now, in the moment, my brain goes completely blank. “Umm, I’d like to discuss your offer,” I finally blurt out.
    “Are you busy today?” he asks.
    “No, not really.” The only thing I have to do today is clean my apartment.
    “Ok, why don’t you come over to my place? We’ll discuss, and then, if all goes well in our negotiations, we can get going right away.”
    Whoa. Too fast. Entirely too fast. “Umm. Maybe. Ok. Where do you live?” I sound like a babbling idiot. I take down his address, tell him I’ll meet him at 1.00pm, and hang up.
    Yikes. I look down at his address. We live in two very different worlds, Doug and I. His address indicates he lives in Rosedale, one of Toronto’s Old Money neighborhoods. I, on the other hand, live in rough-and-tumble Parkdale, where the rents are low, but the neighborhood is definitely, well, colourful.
    I get ready quickly, reaching for my prettiest bra and underwear. I make a face as I look at myself. I confess that I’m intimidated. Doug’s miles out of my league, and my simple black panties and bra don’t lend me a ton of confidence. Still, they fit well, the bra has that magic ability to lift my breasts just enough to look make them look utterly touchable. Over the bra and panties, I pull on a simple black dress – another personal favorite – it shows the perfect amount of cleavage and leg, but is still daytime appropriate.
    I grab my purse and head out. Summertime in