Archetypes: Birth of an Artist

She lit a cigarette, turned back the covers, and started the bath. The night's triumph, while, satisfying on a superficial level, only served to awaken the hunger that always resided in her belly. The boy from the bar was just that. . .a boy, a neophyte. The triumph gave way to reality.

Oh make no mistake, he was a grown man, but he was a child in a man's body, at least in any way he could hold her attention. He didn't know what he didn't know. She knew when he found out, he was either gonna be pissing all over himself and running out the door, or throwing a mattress on his back and following her to the four corners of the earth. In another life.. .another place, either one of these options would have been fine with her, but not now, not this trip. She had neither the time, nor the patience. She had 'raised' enough "children", trained enough subs, and run off enough wannabes. In the right time, and the right place she was was very comfortable as a teacher, but she didn't have time for that shit right now.

She stubbed out her cigarette, turned off the bath water, peeled off her jeans and shirt. She hadn't worn panties in years--at least not as an everyday accoutrement. She sunk into the hot bath and let her aching muscles relax while her mind began to wander. . . She was not one to question the what, how or why. Nonetheless she thought back to the beginning of this journey.

She never lacked for for confidence or comfort in her own skin when it came to exploring her sexuality. Guilt, thank the goddess, was not one the problems her mother had saddled her with. The drunken string of no goodninks mother seemed to attracted like flies on trash heap was a different story. But mom always protected her, kept her safe. mom was such an enigma. She had allowed, even encouraged a healthy curiosty and respect for her sexuality, but she could not form a meaningful relationship with another human being.

What that confidence brought her was something she was totally unprepared to handle at first. . .awe, respect, power. It also aroused some anger, contempt, and envy in those small minded fools who had only been taught to fear such things. She learned to have fun with both types. But the real fun came into play when she met that person who held all of those views at the same time-competing for dominance and attention in their own respective soull. This person was moldable, this person made the perfect toy. As she learned early, a good top always takes care of her toys.

She may have never realized just what a gift this power was and what a thrill it was to weild it if it had not been for one fateful day in. . .among all places, the grocery store. She was in the vegtable section when he heard a soft, but clear and confident, voice exclaim "Now, that is one spankable ass."

She didnt even have to lift her eyes, she felt her ears burning, and an unfamiliar swirl began to bubble up in her depths. She looked up and he was staring right at her, staring through her. There was something in the way he said it, something in the way he looked at her. He had no fear of her. He was older, not like the college boys she had so much experience with. They talked a good game-but that was just it. . .talk. They had little experience and most of the bravado was a front. When she got them where she wanted them, the majority were oh so unfulfilling.

This was something more. She knew it at some level, though she did not have any words to describe what she knew. As she looked back, she knew exactly what it was. . the pupil was ready and had found her teacher. At the time, her head and emotions were bubbling over. She just knew she had to get away fom there. Not because she was afraid of him. No, she thought, at least not in the sense that he would actually harm her. Hurt her, maybe. . .but never harm her. Before she could regain her composure and get away from there, she heard something in her head, "Give it some more thought, honey, when you are ready, come back, we'll talk." Did he really say that, or did she dream it?? She found herself leaving the store without buying anything. She had to get some air. . she had to think.

The water was turning cold. She pulled herself up out of the tub, drained the water and wrapped a towel around her torso. She looked in the mirror and smiled, my god, you have come a long way she thought to herself. She walked back into the bedroom sat down and lit another cigarette, and let her mind wander back again...

It was two weeks, hell maybe two months after the fateful day. She found herself in a cafe with Mr. . .