Seven days have already passed since he last saw his queen and it seems like half an eternity to him. Larry walks excitedly from one room to the next, he just doesn’t know what to do with his time, he can only think of her. His apartment stokes his insecure thoughts and takes his air to breathe. He waits impatiently for the call, he waits for the call from Madame B. Why is she no longer in touch? He’s tired of waiting, but his life is half as good without her. He feels trapped in this intolerability, trapped in an intermediate station of permanent longing and fulfillment.
He met Madame B. in a fetish club. One night he roamed the dark alleys of London and stopped in front of »Murder Mile Studios« on Theydon Road. It was too late and the studio was closed, but Larry felt strangely drawn to this place, he would return. The next morning he made an appointment at reception. Madame B. became his chosen goddess. Meanwhile he has been visiting them for three years, a deep relationship has developed between the two and Larry feels unable to escape this sweet addiction. She understands him, she knows exactly what he needs and she also feels attracted to him in a certain way. The fine line between professionalism and intimacy has already been scratched a few times, but Madame B. always returns to her reliable routine. Then she punishes Larry even more than usual as if it was his fault desiring her.
Larry sits at the kitchen table and nibbles nervously on his fingernails. The nail bed is already so shortened that there is hardly any nail left. He never lets the phone out of his sight, he drags it into every room, even during the daily sessions on the toilet seat, he just can’t miss her call. His legs don’t want to calm down, they vibrate constantly, so violently that the hot coffee tips off the table on Larry’s lap. At that moment, he bites his skin too deeply and bleeds. »Fuck!«, he yells and jumps up. He presses his forehead against the door frame: How could it have come to this? Larry takes a deep breath, coffee drops splashing on the floor.
He remembers flowering meadows in Glanworth, the castle, the bridge by the river. Ireland, he likes to think back to his past, even though he is now trying to keep it out of his own world. As a little boy he was driven outside, every day there was something new to discover, nature offered him endless possibilities. There were few rules, one of which was to come home every day at 6 pm and have dinner. If he did not do so, he would be punished. He grew up without a father with two bigger brothers. His mother knew that she had to fulfil several roles in order to offer both emotionality and rigor. Emotionality wasn’t that far-fetched, but there were blows quite often. Then she put Larry over her knee and spanked his butt with her flat hand or other objects, like the carpet beater from the store room. He liked the blows and noticed how his penis got hard whenever his mother punished him. Suddenly he caught himself making mistakes on purpose to be punished again. Once Larry stood at the table in the lovingly designed country house kitchen and pushed his mother’s vase onto the mosaic tiles. The ceramic vessel, a gift from her late great-aunt, burst into a hundred fragments in no time. Thereupon he got the beatings of his life. Larry was lying on his mother’s lap smiling while he could hardly feel his buttocks. Then he went into his room and looked at his sore ass in the mirror. This picture turned him on so much that he started rubbing his penis violently. A little boy at the age of 12 stood in front of his own reflection, with his pants down, his knees scratched open and the orgasm of a real man. Suspiciously he looked at the liquid between his fingers and smelled it. He liked it, he liked everything about it. He dropped onto his bed and cried out briefly as his buttocks touched the sheets. At that moment he noticed a fantastic satisfaction, unable to think of anything else but to indulge in these masochistic desires. It filled him with a balance, a calmness he did not know yet.
During his time in college he got to know many girls, he wanted to have normal relationships, but always failed maintaining them. Again and again he tried to provoke his girlfriends to get beaten, even if it was just a ridiculous slap in the face. He made them jealous, insulted them, was late for all dates. Nothing happened, they left him quietly. No relationship lasted longer than six months. So the years went by and Larry learned to stay alone after all these frustrating experiences and to do without company. An attractive boy renounced tradition and decided to enjoy Madame B without restraint.
Madame B. taught him like his mother did. She would whip him if he disobeyed. She slapped him several times and looked deep into his eyes. She tied him up, asked him questions, and if he didn’t answer properly, she hit him in the face or between his legs. She could see how each blow excited his penis even more and his foreskin slowly pushed back behind the tender glans. His proud member presented itself like a majestic trunk: firm, inflexible, unchanging. Madame B. tried to break him with a riding whip, but she did not succeed. The penis glowed splendidly and demanded more. She forbade Larry to come to climax, she delayed it to infinity, only when she granted it he was allowed to splash into emptiness. Madame B. fascinated him, he fell in love with her because she understood him, because she gave him peace. He longed for her full lips, he would like to touch her between her legs, peel the leather stilettos over her heels, sink his mouth into her sex, smell her, taste her. Sometimes her cheek was very close to his, while he stood in front of her with his arms and legs tied, then he tried to kiss her and immediately received a strong blow to his face. She made the rules around here and he would obey her. At the same time, the rules she laid down captivated him in his everyday life. Through his years of loyalty, she became his personal dominatrix. She called him when she felt like it. She allowed him into her studio once a week, in the meantime she gave him tasks. When she called, Larry met her demands, and shortly afterwards he felt better. He was lost in this imperfect love and yet he could not imagine anything more beautiful.
Seven days have already passed since he last saw his queen and it seems like half an eternity to him…