It was like the old crack in the dam trick. It’s a trickle, then a flood of memories. I could see my dad, as he would have been at my present age, standing on the sagging porch of that half rotten frame building wearing mustard colored hunting clothes. The big twill pants held up with suspenders and the giant coat with big pockets for the quail he shot. It made me want to cry. And all those sights came pouring in because of an old rundown country store. The woman in the store wasn’t nearly old enough to be a good fit with the store, she was just too damn young. Hell, she was younger than me. ‘This is a neat old place you have here,’ I said. ‘Thank you, I have a lot of trouble keeping it this way. My husband wants to fill the place with the latest stuff to try to improve the profits, but I tell him this is my hobby, not my profession.’ ‘Good for you,’ I said. ‘We need places like this to show the kids how it really was back in the day.’ I didn’t just say it, I meant it. ‘Me and the. He had to break things off. He had to tell the biggest lie of his life convincingly. That he was dating two women. His second lie that they were just friends. They would meet in public. She was so brave. His respect for her goes up immensely. Other than a brief flash of pain to her expression she remained stoic reserved neutral. He had trained her well his perfect submissive. He gave her one last hug to last a life time. He could feel her quiet sobs and shudders. He saw the single tear and knew that more were to follow. She heals slowly quietly using 3.0 silk sutures to sew up the stab wounds to her heart. A single thread still connected them. Two years later she moved on out of state. 10 years later He went to the concert knowing there was a chance of meeting her. A few rows down sat her family. He was with a gorgeous date. His mind wandered back to those days. He was a well established dominant now. He would train new subs but stay detached. During intermission he made small talk.
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