Couples Therapy Pt. 01: Queen and Icarus

My name is Belle Crush and if you have not read my previous story then to catch you up real quick. I am a black woman who discovered her sexuality a bit late and fell in love with writing about my exploits. I actively pursue sexual scenarios and write about them for my email list of readers. This story I wrote a while back and was requested to this format by one of my favorite readers. My emails that go out are usually just the dirty parts, here I will elaborate on the whole story as I remember it. The names and some finer points have been changed to protect the participants however, for the most part this story is true.

Another night in sounded just fine to me, at this point in my life I only socialized when Cassidy my best friend was in town and when I was meeting someone for an illicit affair. The internet made it possible for me to talk to people from all over and set up curated sexual encounters locally so why need to go out? Cassidy often complained that my hobbit hole of an apartment was not where I should spend the majority of my time and I had to get out. She coined the term for my new found lifestyle as "introvertedly slutty" part whore, part cat lady, all nerd.

I didn't mind it at all, I prefer the company of a blank page or a good book over most people so why fight it? Dee on this occasion had enough of my hermit ways and booked me a paint night at a local restaurant and paid for it up front so I had to go. Downside to the internet your friends can black mail you into a night out. She went so far to even send me some cash to have a few drinks (I promise I won't mention she owed me the money and pretend this was a gift).

My night in was ruined along with the current quest which at the time was to find a male virgin willing to let me be his first time (story for another time). I got dressed and got a ride seeing as I was going to be drinking and an Uber meant I could continue to scour my favorite sites looking for that person I really wanted to spend the night with. This may seem out of place but I hate and I mean absolutely hate being late, so I am constantly really really early to things. This was not going to be any different hopping out the Uber a solid half hour before the paint night would start.

I checked in the restaurant who pointed me to the bar telling me what I already knew, I was early and the first one here. I could see the section where the paint night would be from the bar which would work in my favor. After enough brown liquor adventures I decided to let my country upbringing take a backseat to other alcoholic beverages. These days I enjoyed wines more than the aforementioned bourbon.

With a wine glass in my hand I once again turned my attention to trying to find my next sexual adventure when the seat next to me was suddenly occupied.

"Hi I love your twists!" She said seemingly gliding into the stool next to me as if we were long time friends.

"Oh nobody is sitting here right?" She asked I assume reacting to my face.

"Oh, uhm no body is sitting here and thank you." I replied mustering a smile and taking a good look at the woman beside me.

At this point in my life sexual labels were not adequate to describe where I felt I resided. I wasn't picky about genitalia or outward appearance but for the sake of the conversation we will just say "I like what I like." Her, I liked. She was stunning, short hair in dyed blonde curls on top, light makeup just highlighting her natural features, her toned figure told of time in a gym and she had an aura of confidence to go with it all.

"Ok good do you mind if I sit then, I'm waiting for the paint night." She asked clearly already sitting in the seat purse to her side, she wasn't going anywhere.

"Sure, I am waiting for the paint night as well."

"I figured as much, otherwise no reason to hang out at the bar right. Ziporah, nice to meet you." She smiled extending her hand.

"Belle, yeah I figured I would start sipping early I have never been to one of these but my friend assures me it will be fun if I loosen up a bit." She shook my hand lightly before letting go and motioning to the bartender for a drink.

"Oh I love these! I have done several with my husband it's a good fun and I always meet the nicest people!" She beamed.

I don't know how I didn't notice the massive rock on her finger but as soon as she said the word husband it began to blind me. I smiled at my nervousness about talking to her she was happily married and far from my reach anyway. However, there was something about how she sat facing me and making so much eye contact that kept me nervous.

We made small talk for a while leading me to discover she was 32 to my 25 had a successful career and even a side business as a yoga instructor. She was intense, yet nurturing leading the conversation and the interaction in such a calm control I couldn't help but admire. By the time we were ready to paint she had ordered us two more drinks a piece (without asking me about it) and picked up the tab for it all. She conversed with me with a level of comfort that was so unfamiliar but welcoming it brought me out of my shell quickly.

"Where is that man?" She questioned aloud fishing her phone out of her purse that probably cost as much as my rent.

"Traffic, this side of town at this time, has to be." My suggestion felt forced since I knew it was a rhetorical question but I have never been good at just talking to strangers.

She simply smiled and dialed his number sweetly asking him how long he would be. Only hearing one side of the conversation I knew he wasn't coming but the tones in which they spoke made me long for the kind of love they seemed to have. She didn't get angry she understood whatever his excuse was and promised to have a plate waiting in the microwave for him if she was asleep when he got home.

"No its fine sweetheart I met a nice young woman and she can be my date." She said winking to me with a smile.

If I could visibly blush I would have, I felt my face heat up returning her smile while retreating into my own shy bubble turning to take a sip from my drink to avoid eye contact.

"Love you, bye. Looks like it's a ladies night Belle! Lets go." She beamed picking up her things and walking in front of me to the area designated as paint night.

I have to be honest we had a blast, we drank, laughed and painted orchids. Hers turned out better than mine due to her experience but mine is still proudly hanging in my bedroom. By the time it was all over I was grateful Cassidy made me do this even though I wasn't going to tell her that. As we both stood outside waiting for our respective rides she handed me her card and asked me to call her to come try yoga or if I needed another paint night date.

"How did you know I wasn't waiting for someone when you sat next to me at the bar?" The question had been in my mind since we met and she never once asked if I was expecting anyone.

"I read people pretty well, you didn't exactly put off waiting for someone vibes just waiting. So I figured we could wait together." She laughed.

"I guess you have a point." I replied thinking about how I must have looked.

With that my ride showed up we hugged and went our separate ways. Over the next few days Cassidy thrilled by the idea that I had fun and could have a more normal reason to leave the house prodded me to contact Ziporah for yoga or drinks or anything. I argued that she had to be a busy woman and didn't have time to entertain me but I really did enjoy hanging out with her and felt I could learn a lot from her. In the end I relented and text her asking when her next yoga class was.

We texted back and forth over the next few days and she offered to have me at her yoga class the next weekend. I found myself spending my free time letting you tube teach me the basics of yoga because I didn't want to look like an idiot when the day came. I even went so far as to buy some appropriate clothing since working out was not really my thing and I didn't want to show up in sweats and a shirt.

The day of the class I drove to a YMCA on a side of town I don't often visit, you know that side that you only visit when you've finally saved up enough to buy that one overpriced thing from the mall. It was obvious she had money. I showed up in my tights, a newly acquired yoga mat, and a tight shirt I usually wore under something else when I wanted to go bra less.

She greeted me with enthusiasm wearing similar tights and just a sports bra, her body was amazing. She pulled me in for a hug which was a huge breach of my sober personal space protocol but for some reason didn't bother me. We chatted quickly before she led me to my place on the front row surrounded by ten other women of varied fitness levels. I was the youngest woman in the room and would have preferred to be in the back but just like paint night I followed her instructions.

If you have never been to a yoga class I will tell you now, it is hard freaking work! By the end of it I was sweating and completely out of touch with the limits of my body. The other women seemed to move in unison with Ziporah walking around helping people into proper position and offering words of encouragement. She was firm with some of the ladies but still understanding and supportive. She was in complete control of all of us for an hour.

As the class ended I received handshakes and encouragement to keep coming from some of the other ladies but found myself lingering just to talk to Ziporah and thank her for inviting me. She was engrossed in a conversation with another woman and held up a finger to let me know she was aware of my presence and I should wait. I felt stupid, I wasn't apart of the conversation just off to the side and it was just the three of us in the room now and I felt out of place, yet I waited.

The conversation dragged on longer than I anticipated but when it ended I was rewarded with her undivided attention. We talked about the class and how I enjoyed it but was unsure if I would return. She smiled gathering her things telling me I should be back next week and changed the subject to lunch. We traded suggestions before she simply decided on having me to her place.

"That's a great Idea, just follow me in your car or you can ride with me. I will whip something up at home!"

I was out of my depth, I didn't know how to tell her no but I felt gross and extremely tired. I wanted a bath and a nap not more social time.

"Thank you for the offer but I really need a soak after all that." I protested.

"You can shower up at my place I am sure I have something that will fit you and you can just return it to me next week!" Her excitement was making this worse for me.

"I, uh am not sure, I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense! We are friends Belle, trust me if you were imposing I wouldn't be inviting you. However, if you are uncomfortable with it I'll take a rain check."

I was so relieved she threw me a lifeline I exhaled and immediately felt rude.

"I'm sorry, it's not that I am uncomfortable, I am just gross and tired. Thank you for the invite though." I hoped I hadn't ruined anything and felt my eyes drifting towards the ground.

She placed her hand on my shoulder causing me to look her in the eye, I could see her understanding and immediately felt better.

"Don't apologize Belle." She laughed.

"Its ok, we will do lunch next time just work on your poses. Text me later and enjoy your bath." She beamed with the same energy I had grown used to.

With that I gained a bit of confidence in how to deal with our friendship. Over the next few months I continued to attend yoga and even took her up on her lunch plans at her home. I met her husband a few times and I could tell why they were together they never stopped smiling around each other. They laughed constantly, poked fun at each other, and genuinely embraced each other. When it was the three of us I never felt left out.

During that time I managed to have a couple more adventures to write about and I constantly toyed with the idea of sending Ziporah one of those emails claiming it was an accident but never got up the nerve. She had become somewhat of a mentor to me and I often mimicked her when I met with people to put on a mask of confidence when I was nervous. It wasn't until maybe our thirds dinner date at her home where she was teaching me how to make salmon patties that sex even came up.

"How's your love life these days Belle you seem a it high strung." Such a loaded question posed in such an innocent way while chopping parsley.

She was right I had hit sort of a slump, my last encounter was lackluster and the one before that ended up in me getting cat fished. I was in a strange place, I felt like I HAD to do something to write about in fear of losing my readers and the pressure I put on myself was messing with my self care. Cassidy and I were at odds over trivial nonsense and thus my usual outlet was not where I needed her. In short I was stressed and unsure if I let my joy of writing dictate my life or if I was still in control and my life dictated my writing. The way she asked, when she asked and who she was broke down the wall I was keeping between her and that part of my life and I broke down. She held me and led me to the couch where she just let me cry a bit until I got myself together.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked handing me another tissue.

"Yes, but I don't even know where to start."

"Why not start from the beginning?"

"It's a long story Zip."

She laughed getting up and walking to extensive wine cabinet pulling down a bottle and two glasses.

"The best stories often are, now from the beginning what's going on?"

I got myself together while she poured and started at the beginning as requested. I told her about my first time and about James, the emails, and how I was stuck between trying to provide content and exploring sexuality on my own. I didn't look at her once the whole time I spoke keeping my eyes everywhere else in the room. She let me talk until I finally looked up at her hoping I hadn't scared her off or made her see me in a negative light. What she said changed my trajectory in life and molded me into the woman I am today and I will forever thank her for that.

"You are your own woman; your body is yours not your readers. Your experiences are yours not your readers. They simply get to share in those moments that you choose to share. You owe them nothing, they don't pay you, they don't feed you, put a roof over your head or sustain you in any way. They are passengers in your journey, Cassidy as much as you love her, she is still just a passenger. Take control of your journey. They will read an email if it comes once a year or every day. Be true to you."

She was right and I responded with more tears. I thanked her while she held me until I got it all out. I had to regain control and when my tears ended I was determined to do just that. She uncharacteristically downed her glass and stared at me.

"Remember what started this whole thing for you, a lust for life. Don't abandon it now."

It was as if she was speaking directly to my heart. I let her go and stood prepared to go but she held my hand firm.

"You have confided in me it would be unfair of me to not reciprocate, before you leave can I show you something?"

"You have done more than enough Zip you don't need to feel obligated to show me anything." I replied leaning on the confidence she gave me.

"No, I've wanted to show you for some time and it seems I waited too long." Holding my hand she led me upstairs. The entire time I had known her and the many times I was in her home I never once left the first floor. I never thought much of it but under the current circumstances I was more than intrigued and attempted to take in as much of it as I could. We turned a corner and walked into an office where her husband Chadwick was behind a computer still in his clothes from work minus the tie and jacket. He smiled as we walked in and stood.

"Dinner ready already? Or are you finally getting the full tour?" He asked coming around the desk. His barrel chest and stocky figure always made me smile. Seeing him on the street one would assume he is a gruff and rough guy that spent his days snorting lines of protein and screaming at a mirror in the gym. In truth he was a fun loving relaxed sweet man. In my head he had the stature of an axe wielding dwarf with the personality of a whimsical forest elf (don't judge me, I read a lot).

"Dinner it seems will be late love, its time to properly introduce you two." She smiled as I had seen many times before. I always loved the way her face lit up when she spoke to him.

"Belle, I would like to officially introduce you to my husband, my love, my submissive troublemaker, Icarus."

"Uhm, what?" I was genuinely confused at the string of words used in that sentence waiting for the punchline. They both laughed as he stepped up to shake my hand as if we truly had never met before.

"May I, my Queen?" He asked her before receiving a simple nod.

"Belle its nice to see my lovely wife wants to include you in this part of our life. We are a Dominant and submissive couple, her as my Queen and dominant and me as the submissive she calls Icarus." He smiled proud to inform me of this still confusing dynamic. Now, this was right at the beginning of 50 shades mania as a book so I was aware but not educated. I hadn't heard of people of color engaging in such kinks but they got me up to speed me quickly as we shared a couch in the office.

"Icarus here enjoys a little pain and humiliation during sex, he enjoys structure and rules I provide for him and I enjoy the control. We work together to satisfy our individual kinks which best looks like a BDSM relationship." She explained keeping her eyes on me watching for my reaction.

I had to admit I was highly intrigued by this, a man wanting to be humiliated and endure pain and coming second to his wife in the terms of leadership flipped every culture norm on its head. She fit her role perfectly and I started to see how she was often in control of everything around her even me at times.

"Why Icarus?" I asked.

"He has a tendency to "forget" to use the safe word and sometimes actually gets hurt because of it. I called him that once after a particularly rougher session and it stuck."

"So what does a little pain and humiliation look like really? You like slap him and call him stupid or something?" Again my question was met with laughter but she placed her hand on my knee looking me in the eyes before asking.

"Would you like to see?"

My throat caught at her gaze, such a flurry of emotions for one night and here I was about to be thrust into a new adventure. I bit my lip and nodded.

"Not good enough Belle, you must use your words and you must promise me that what you see you don't write about until YOU are ready."

I Inhaled deeply before placing my hand on hers in a bold show of affection trying to channel the Zip or Queen inside me.

"Yes, I would like to see and I promise."

She maintained eye contact with a knowing smirk. "Down to your panties Icarus."

"Yes, my Queen."

My eyes widened immediately did she really make him wear women's underwear? We both watched while he stripped down to boxer briefs, much to my disappointment. His clothes hid how muscular he actually was and he couldn't hide the bulge in his briefs as he got to his knees in the middle of the room before folding his clothes and placing them to the side.

"Icarus is a big man, as I am sure you can tell. Yet he likes to feel little. While I refuse to have him actually wear panties because I do not want him feminized, I do call what he wears panties to degrade him a bit. That simple choice not only feeds his need for that type of stimulation but shows my own care for his mental state." She stood walking behind him and rubbing the top of his head looking him up and down.