A family dinner at my mom's. There are a few other people at the table, including my godparents, whom I truly treat like second parents, as well as my cousin and a few distant relatives. Dinner goes on as usual. A few jokes, a few chats about the weather, a few arguments about politics, and discussions of ordinary, everyday matters. A homely atmosphere, embellished with the aroma of delicious food and that characteristic tension that accompanies every meeting with people who know you from the very beginning and... They have the photo albums to prove it.
We're both there. I'm in an elegant dress, perhaps just a little too tight, and my makeup is perfectly polished. And Master – calm, elegant, seeming slightly withdrawn, as if he were sitting not at a family dinner but rather viewing some interesting, exotic social exhibition. He listens, observes, smiles. He doesn't say much. He acts like a polite anthropologist.
How I function and who I am in a relationship with a man, and how I function every day, in relationships with people, including within my family, are two different things. Only the Master knows both sides of me. The external one – the one reserved for the world – and the internal one – reserved only for him. This first version of me – the one everyone knows – is authoritative, dominant, always speaking her mind, rarely biting her tongue. Usually kind, cheerful, and polite. But sometimes also sassy, feisty, and arrogant...
We were having dinner. Between bites, I was teasing my mom across the table. Classic. We were (not so jokingly) arguing about which of us made the better version of the dishes in front of us. Naturally, each of us defended her own version quite fiercely. The rest of the family stayed out of it. But at one point my godfather snorted and shook his head, giving both me and my mom a look full of disapproval.
– I honestly don’t know how he puts up with you, – he said to me, giving my Master a look of genuine respect.
My Master, who was calmly sipping tea as if he hadn’t heard a single word of the back-and-forth between me and my mother, simply raised an eyebrow and smiled with that quiet composure of someone who always knows more than they let on.
– It’s not that bad – he replied politely to my godfather.
– What, you’ve already given up? – my uncle pressed, not letting it go.
– Not exactly...
– You mean to tell me she doesn’t talk back to you? – my godmother jumped in.
– No. Charlotte can be... Very restrained. Even disciplined. Believe me – he said with calm assurance. And that’s when I started wishing they’d all just drop the subject...
– Because honestly, sometimes I still feel like giving her a good spanking for that sharp tongue of hers. Even though she’s a adult woman – my godmother declared flatly.
– Well... I sometimes spank her – said Master, in the most matter-of-fact tone imaginable like he was commenting on the weather. And then he smiled, wide and unapologetic. And I froze. He really say that?! I did not like the direction this conversation was going. Not one bit. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it, because in the very next second, the entire table erupted in loud, hearty laughter. Everyone except me.
– Well, would you look at that! Someone finally showed her who’s boss. Just spank her and that's it? And she lets you do it? – my cousin, who had been keeping quiet until now and who clearly doesn't like the Master, comments somewhat sarcastically.
– Yes... Although a tongue tie works better in some situations. Maybe sometimes you should try it too – Master replied, with the air of someone thoroughly enjoying themselves while simultaneously sensing her dislike. His words sparked another round of laughter from everyone gathered at the table. Everyone, except me. Because I was the only one who knew all too well that not a single word he'd said had been – so far – a joke.
– Look, what a joker! It's good we have you, man. Maybe someone will finally tame her – my godfather concluded, seeming even more amused than Master.
– That's what I call having authority! I always wondered how she was so polite to you – my aunt said approvingly.
– Maybe because she knows what awaits her when she's not. I have my ways of dealing with her. They're different – Master said with a mischievous smile.
Jesus Christ, is this really happening?! That was the final straw. I couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. But not just any laugh. It was nervous, uncontrollable. Loud and spasmodic. Hysterical. And once I started, I couldn't stop. I laughed until tears welled up in my eyes, until I honestly thought I was going to choke. The others, of course, joined in. They laughed with me. But they had no idea what made me laugh so much. It didn't even occur to them that everything said at that table was true. Therefore, their laughter was light, easy, amused. They thought it was just innocent banter and exaggerated jokes. But my laughter was actually the sound of the pressure finally subsiding – because I was the only one at that table (besides the Master) who knew that none of it was a joke. Not a single word. That every word was completely serious.
Eventually, I calmed down. And I found myself thinking how strange it feels to belong to two different worlds at once. This one – here at the table, full of playful bickering, sarcastic quips, and dramatic eye rolls. And that one – the one where I’m on my knees, naked, before my Master. Where "watch your mouth" isn’t just a throwaway remark, but a clear line. One that is better not to cross. Because if I did – I’d be punished. Severely. And the strangest part? Probably that same evening, I will kneel naked before the Master. No pretense, no jokes, no sarcastic remarks, no eye rolling. In silence. Patiently. Humbly. Waiting for the command. They don’t know that. They wouldn’t even be able to imagine it.
And Master? He just sat there, calm as ever – smiling at my mother, pouring himself some tea, joking with my godparents, teasing my cousin with polite mischief. He didn’t even glance at me. But I felt it. That unmistakable tension pulsing between us. The invisible leash. And I knew – he was still holding it. He always holds it. No matter where we are. No matter who’s around. It’s a leash of the mind. And it’s stronger than blood. I realized that just now.
– I don’t know what he’s done to me, but... I guess it’s working – I said, once I’d finally caught my breath, feeling that I should speak after all. Master simply smiled at that.
In the evening, after returning home, the Master and I had a interesting conversation about this situation...
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