Heinrich Throws a Going-Away Party (I)

      The day after I gave notice at the Studio, I contacted my friend Heinrich and told him that I was leaving town. 

      “You are moving?  Why?  You do not like it there!”  I could hear his voice echoing a bit over the phone.  It sounded like he was in his kitchen.  His kitchen has tiles and weird acoustics.  Not like his living room, which is soundproofed (I’ve never seen a private home that was as tricked out for BDSM as Heinrich’s place.  I mean, it should be covered by Home & Garden‘s annual perv issue or used as a marketing point if he ever decides to sell the place.  It’s faultlessly executed–everything either blends in with the decor or is hidden from view.  For instance, the curtain rods are heavy metal and sunk deep into the beams behind the wall…perfect to use as bondage anchor points.  One of his coffee tables is screwed securely to the floor. The most conspicuous thing is the O-ring on the ceiling.  Unlike the ugly one in my apartment, his collapses flat against the ceiling so it doesn’t hang down when not in use.  If anyone inquires about it, he says he uses it to suspend a punching bag.  For training.  He says this with a straight face.  Quite a little inside joke, that).  

       “I’m overworked  and the Studio isn’t good for me.  I can’t handle it anymore!  I need to at least take a break and get some perspective!  It’ll be like pouring all the booze down the sink and moving thousands of miles away from the nearest liquor store.”  

       “Is it because your lease almost finished?  I thought you had found a place to sublet for two months.  Have you house difficulty?  Do you need a place to stay?”

          We talked for a while longer.  I explained that no, I had to go.

          “There is one thing that you can do for me that I would really appreciate,” I said.

          “Yes?  I will help if I can.”

          “I want us to have a going-away dinner and I want to get on the airplane with something to remember you by.  One last fix, for Lord knows how long.  There’s nobody like you where I’m going.  You are the only one here I know and trust to do this for me.”

           He barked laughter into the phone.  Heinrich’s mannerisms are fairly understated, unless you pay special attention to how he carries the tension in his body and his face.  You’d think his laughter would be understated, as well, but the sound of the laugh is either a smiling chortle he’s trying to repress, or a big bark.  It’s startling and sounds almost like a cough. 

     “Oh, Margo,” he laughed, “I knew that it would not be a lift to the airport.”  

        “I know it’s short notice.  I didn’t expect everything to happen so quickly.”  

         Long pause.  Then: “Shall we arrange for Sunday evening after the game?  That will give time for planning.  I will call you soon.  My place, this is okay with you?”

        “Of course.  I love your apartment.” 

        “Any special requests?  What experience do you want to have?”

        “You know what I like.  Surprise me.”

        “Miss Adler, that is a very dangerous thing to tell a sadist such as myself.  You should be more careful.”  The tone of his voice was joking rebuke.

         “You’re not dangerous.  You’re safe.  That’s why I trust you.”

         “Oh dear.  I think you trust me too much, then.   We will have to talk about this.  We will have to talk about this very much.”  No joke at all in his voice this time.

         In the interest of full disclosure, I will confess that when I heard him say that, I started to get turned on.  My heartbeat sped up.  But…I couldn’t help but egg him on a little bit:

        “It’s okay, Heinrich!  We’re friends.  And besides, it’s not like you need to inspire fear in your subject to be a great Top.  It doesn’t mean that they don’t take you seriously or anything.”  

        He laughed again.  This time, it was a sarcastic, fake laugh.  You know, the laugh you make when the joke is stupid or not funny.

        We talked a while longer, and made plans to keep in touch while I was gone.

        Approx. 27 hours later, Heinrich sent me a text message: May I invite a guest to our party?

         Me: Uhhh….what kind of guest?  A guy, right?

         H: Yes, a guy.  

         Me: Hell, yes, you can bring him!  Did you really need to ask? Bring them ALL!

         He wrote back: Good, thanks!

         It wasn’t until later that evening that I realized what I might have just gotten myself into. 

              TO BE CONTINUED


2 thoughts on “Heinrich Throws a Going-Away Party (I)”

  1. i love this blog…good, bad, ugly. The emotion in all things written is palpable! I’m rooting for you big time.

    ss

  2. Hi! Howz it going in the sticks? Hope you’re getting stronger and finding peace within your current circumstances! Waiting with baited breath to read something… ss

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