Leaning back in my chair, I started browsing through some of the applicants. I really needed someone to handle the phone calls. A lot of my appointments were being scheduled for out-of-the-office meetings, but I needed someone that had all my in-office and out-of-office appointments in one place so they didn’t overlap or have me running all over town.

Two hours passed as I filtered through résumé. I'd narrowed it down to my top ten. Normally I skipped the name portion of the application as sex and race didn't matter at all to me. What mattered is what experience the person had and if I thought they would be a good fit based on previous work experience. However, once I narrowed it down, I glanced at the names just to see whom I might be dealing with. When my ex's name came up, I froze. I hadn't heard from Mariah in a very long time. Our relationship had ended amicably, from how I remembered it; however, I didn't expect to find her applying for employment with my practice. She knew exactly what type of practice I had. I was just starting my business when we'd been together, the same specialty I still practiced. It had bothered her that I was in the middle of other people's sex lives... literally. Initially she thought I exaggerated or made up stories about exactly what I did when I was with clients.

Until one day I was running really late for lunch with her. She was in the waiting room along with two of my clients who were waiting for one-on-one sessions with me. The two women had been sharing what the sessions with their significant others were like. Needless to say Mariah wasn’t so happy about it. I’d never lied to her, never kept the truth from her, but she felt like I had because she hadn’t believed what I had been telling her. Not that I physically got involved with my clients, but it didn’t matter to her. She couldn’t handle the fact that on a daily basis I saw other women (and men) nude and doing sexual things to one another.

It didn’t take long from the time that she found out until we broke up for good. She’d begged and pleaded multiple times for me to give her another chance. A few times I actually had. She was a good sub, and at the time that was all I needed from a woman in my life. Sadly, every time ended the same way — with a huge fight full of accusations that were all based on bullshit. Like that I had to be cheating because I smelled like other women or I always took phone calls in private. Yet another reason why I rarely dated and let women get to know any part of me. They just couldn’t handle what I did for a living.

Trying to set aside the personal connection, I carefully analyzed her résumé and surprisingly found that she had the experience that would make her quite a good fit. I knew her personality, so that would be a benefit and make it an easier transition. She definitely would know what type of job she was getting into since she’d seen and heard a lot about it when we’d been together. Then again, throw in the fact that we’d had sex quite a few times and the fact that she knew all about my BDSM side — and it wasn’t such a great idea. Still, I starred the email figuring that at least if no one else worked out I would have her to fall back on or get to fill in until I found someone better and less personal. Plus, I would have to deal with the possibility that she was looking to rekindle our relationship after all this time. That was a bridge that I would only cross if I needed to.

As much as I hated wasting time with secretary applicants, I had to. I needed more free time. I wanted more time to spend with Alix, not just at the club, but outside of our room — without the blindfold. I needed to find a way to gently get away from this looming secret. She would find out one way or another. Secrets never lasted forever and my identity wasn’t one to just have her stumble upon. It could wreck everything, make her run, if it didn’t happen just right.

Just as I was about to close my laptop, my email dinged with a different tone than normal. It was Alix. She was looking to talk to her counselor. I figured after the busy day she’d had, plus the time we’d spent together, she would be fast asleep, but she was looking to talk to someone. That wasn’t a good sign. I would much rather have left her too exhausted to stay awake once she got home.

Opening the chat window, I settled in and hoped the chat would go better than the last time.

Counselor21: Good evening. How are you?

BadKitty2: How do you think I’m doing? It’s the middle of the night on a Saturday and I’m here talking to you.

Counselor21: Anywhere else you’d rather be?

BadKitty2: Of course.

Counselor21: And where would that be?

BadKitty2: Naked in bed with my master.

Counselor21: So things have been going well then?

BadKitty2: Somewhat.

Counselor21: What is keeping you from being with him tonight?

I had to know what made her run out of the room like it was on fire. She didn’t know it was me behind the computer, but it gave me the chance to find out what she wasn’t willing to talk to me about in person.

When she didn’t respond for a few moments, I tried again.

Counselor21: What makes you say that things are only somewhat going well? Have you ventured farther into the BDSM world since the last time we talked? Did things not go as you’d expected?

BadKitty2: I have explored more. Surprisingly,  I discovered that it is much more than I first thought.

Counselor21: How so?

BadKitty2: Well… I haven’t masturbated in quite a while. I don’t even think about it.

Counselor21: Do you think about your next meeting with your master? Or the next time he will give you release? Does he do that? Is there a sexual aspect to your relationship?

BadKitty2: I think about him. Sometimes I try to anticipate what will occur the next time we are together, but not specifically the release he may or may not give me. He has brought me to the edge of release, but not allowed me to have it when I have done something that doesn’t please him.

BadKitty2: That’s not how it might sound. It’s always little things. He makes me want to be better. The way I feel when I’m with him is so freeing. I don’t have to think, don’t have to worry about the little things in life. I know that he is going to take care of me, he is going to make sure I get everything I need right then.

Counselor21: That sounds like things are much better than you initially made them seem. What am I missing?

BadKitty2: I don’t know his name. I’m not allowed to see his face. I’m beginning to wonder what he is hiding.

Counselor21: Are you afraid he has some horrible deformity or something like that?

BadKitty2: I don’t care what he looks like. I just want to know. It was fun and different and added to the whole scene at first, but I want to be able to have a face and name to put to him in my dreams.

Counselor21: Have you told him this?

BadKitty2: No.

Counselor21: Why not? If it is something that bothers you so much. Would you be willing to stop seeing him if he said no?

BadKitty2: It is what I have been going round and round about. I can’t say. I can only say that I have given it serious thought.

Counselor21: Beyond the name and face issue, what else is causing you to say that things are only okay?

BadKitty2: He refuses to have sex.

Counselor21: And that is a bad thing?

BadKitty2: Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s weird. I’ve never had a man tell me he didn’t want to have sex. I even went as far as accusing him of being gay to see if I could propel him past whatever hiccup there seems to be or find out what the truth was.

Counselor21: How did he react to that?