Late in May, 2003, SAADE and GWNN had sent out a special invitation to the senior members of the clubs and friends. A Leather Master was going to be Austin on business and would be available to make a presentation on “Law Enforcement and BDSM” on a Wednesday night. Anyone want to attend?
I was the door monitor. We gathered in the back room of a Sizzler Steak House near Pflugerville—about 10 miles north of downtown Austin. I know most of the people: many of the SAADE Council and GWNN board members were there. Bamm was sitting across the room holding a hunting knife to his wife’s throat. Our guest had not yet begun to speak. It was Master Scott Parker, who, with slavette, is the current “International Master/slave” couple. Scott also is a law enforcement officer from South Carolina: a national presenter, I was told. (Years later, I would enable slavette to publish her slave guidebook.)
The door to the meeting room opened and one last person came in.
She was about 10 years younger than me and “curvy.” Her beaming, radiant smile lit up the room. Lavender jacket-top; I remember it vividly. Tits trying hard to escape their bonds. I’d never laid eyes on her. I jumped up to make sure she intended to be in this room. With one of the thickest Texas drawls I’d ever heard outside the movies, she asked if this was the XYZ meeting, and I said yes, it was. She said, “Then I’m in the right place.” Now, I can’t type this and do it any justice at all, but for someone from Los Angeles and Washington DC—places I’d spent most of my life—I’d never been near anyone who spoke like this. I’d never heard anyone in Austin speak like this. It was as striking as though she were speaking with a North London accent.
I suggested that she might want to sit next to Renee and me and that I’d try to help her out with some of the terminology because I suspected that without that, she wouldn’t be able to make any sense of what Master Scott was about to say.
She readily agreed. Within moments, he was speaking.
The minute he opened his mouth I was scribbling words and their meanings. I’ve never asked her about that night. Probably should.
When Renee and I were saying good night to her, I mentioned that I was one of the people running the Austin Mentors Program that year and we always could use bottoms for the teaching sessions. I asked whether she might be interested in meeting some of the senior Dom/mes in the community, if she was thinking about exploring BDSM. She took my card.
About six weeks later she emailed me: she was interested in learning more about being a demo bottom. I wrote back: Actually, I need a demo bottom for a fire play instruction next week, would she be interested?
“Will I get burned?” she asked in reply.
“I don’t think so,” I answered.
“Sure, then… when and where?”
She showed up at our house on time. We did the demo and the scene ended sexually.
Literally, she spent the night.
Three months later, Mistress gave her to me as my sex slave. Well, that's not exactly right. It was hard to peel me off of Mindi and the NRE was making her crazy (I'm afraid that I was rather out of control). There really wasn't much of an option but to absorb her into our lives, somehow. Since I'm a psychological switch, I didn't have any trouble serving Mistress and learning how to Master my slave.