Finding my dom
“Women and men; we still bleed red but we treat the other as inferior beings…”
I looked up in time to watch her speak her closing remarks with indomitable confidence.
She spoke about equity with so much passion. All my life I always thought equity and equality were the same thing, but we learn something new each day, don’t we? To her, social justice was live. The ferocity in her voice when she wound up her argument was actually what caught my attention.
I honestly didn’t care for the workshop we were attending. My boss was out of town and had forced me to go in his stead. “It is a three day workshop at a lakeside resort, I’m pretty sure you will have fun,” he had coaxed over the phone.
Begrudgingly, I had signed up, left and locked my house to attend what would turn out to be one of the most memorable events in my life.
When the Q & A session began, she took out a little peach notebook and took notes.
“Whoa!” I thought. I had the same exact little notebook. Coincidence? Yes? No?
She had hair in that curly crochet style that was all the rave in town.
“She’s a natural too,” my brain whispered. “I wonder where she does her hair from.”
“Could she be using that expensive salon that naturalistas flocked by the dozen in town?”
“And that dress, my oh my, it looks exactly like the one that had featured on the Runway Show last week!”
“Who is she?”
I realised I was staring at her. I quickly checked in the handbook I had received on arrival and looked for her.
On page 4, there, full page, was a picture of her in front of an array of law books, she was a partner at a top law firm in town. I scanned through the brief and was impressed. 39? She didn’t look a day over 30. It said she loved to take part in marathons and owns a Labrador. Had advised on several news-worthy mergers but mostly provided pro-bono services to women in impoverished communities.
Truth be told, I was bowled over.
By the time the Q&A session was done, I had packed up my bag and walked out to the cocktail area. Who doesn’t like free drinks anyway?
I found a corner and leaned against the wall observing the other attendees as they trickled to the terrace. It was a chilly evening and all I wanted was to get a few business cards for my boss without having to move from table to table.
How she ended up at my table, I can’t recall. I had made friends with some guys from the Wakanda delegation and we were discussing whether the new movie was a true representation of who they were. Jokes about the tech and all when she said, “Men need women to win.”
We all turned and stared.
See, she was the keynote speaker and no one wanted to say anything to stir up murky water. So we all just kept staring and while we tried to figure out how to respond, she smiled and saluted, “Wakanda!!!” with arms across her chest.
And then something really incredulous happened; we all did the same thing! I couldn’t believe it. She raised her glass to us and walked away. We all started after her in those 6 inch Louboutin shoes. She had us whipped. Ok, me. I was whipped.
I wanted to know her, be her friend, slave, whatever she chose. How cool was she?
As we went to our rooms to change for the welcome dinner, I noticed she was on the same floor as my room was. With an hour to kill before dinner, I took a slow glorious bath and decided to send a quick email to my boss and update him on the day’s events before I got dressed. I had just switched on my laptop when the hotel phone rang.
“Come to room 214. It’s open.” That voice. It was her.
I threw on a tshirt and jeans, grabbed my phone and room key and was out of there in less than 5 minutes. She was only 6 doors down the hallway. A million things raced through my mind. “What could she possibly want?” “What if it’s a kidnap plot?” At 26, I was old enough to know better than to walk into a stranger’s hotel room. My heart was racing as I approached her room. I found the door slightly ajar, held open by a hotel slipper. I nudged it wider and walked in.
She was standing there, her back to me, and dressed in the most beautiful white silk kimono with a black yin-yang symbol at the back looking out to the balcony. Her hair was down and she still had those heels on.
I swallowed a lump.
“Uhmm, hi!” I managed to say.
“Champagne,” she stated as she handed me a tall glass of bubbly. (More matter-of-factly than inviting and I found myself drawn to where she stood.)
“Uhmm, yes. Please,” I rasped. I found it strangely arousing that she still kept her back to me this whole time. Uncomfortable and curious in one breath.
She walked towards the TV, turned the volume up and turned towards me.
I dropped my glass on the floor.
“Get on your knees,” she said as the white kimono slid off her shoulders and settled in white ruffles at her feet.
My body took on the command in her voice and did her bidding. I gaped at her fine-toned coffee coloured body. From her crimson red lips to her lavender strap on. She was goddess. Athena, like her name.
I surrendered to her. I had found my dom.
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