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MySweetSubmssive -> RE: FemDom Horror Stories (7/9/2008 9:07:42 PM)
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Y'know how people toss around the phrase "pathological liar?" This was the first ever submissive I met:
I met this person through alt in 2005. We started chatting online. He was quite experienced, but did a wonderful job of supporting me from the bottom. We resonated well and I enjoyed getting inside his head. After a few weeks, we decided to meet and I chose a restaurant for lunch. He was shy, deferential, rather homely looking and a little deflated seeming. I knew that he had just been through a divorce, so my sympathetic heart went pitter-pat for him. We had a fine time and decided to go to a beer tasting later in the week (though geek domme that I was at the time, I said I'd only do it if I could study my Organic Chem in the car on the way there).
Again, we had a fine time. I had mentioned, facetiously, while online that I would drink any wine with a kangaroo on the label, and he brought a bottle of something Austrailian. It was a silly little gift, but it touched me that he had remembered. We enjoyed the beer tasting and then he took me to dinner afterward. It was casual, fun; we were feeling each other out, there was an undercurrent of D/s, but no rush. Something felt off. I couldn't place my finger on what it was, but I could feel it there. He drove me home, I invited him up, and for the first time slapped someone across the face. God, it was a rush! I teased the shit out of him and sent him home at 3:00am.
We made plans to get together the next weekend, the day before Easter. The day of our next meeting, I got a frantic phone message from him telling me that his ex-wife had been assaulted and raped by two men and was in the hospital. I was horror-struck. Wow. I mean, you get divorced from someone, but you still care about them. And I worried about his kids. I called back and offered support (even though he hardly knew me). I didn't hear from him over the rest of the weekend, but that didn't surprise me.
Monday morning. May I say ... I am not, not, NOT a morning person. Monday morning at 8:04 am. My phone rings. In a stupor I answer it. It's his wife. It's his wife, flaming like a dragon, frothing at the mouth (thought not at me) over the phone, and on the way to a divorce lawyer's. In my haze, all I can think is, "This woman was definately NOT raped this weekend." I thought, who's lying? What is going on? And then I feebly said, "Lady, I'm not even dressed yet. I need to call you back later."
I messaged him, told him he was a fuck and to never get in touch with me again. I called her back, and it turns out that his canoodling with me is not the reason she is divorcing him. It is that I am about the twentieth person that he has done this with. We go through the timeline comparing notes of what he has said to both of us, and it's clear that he's a skilled, pervasive, thorough liar. As in over and over again, small details and large, manipulative constructing another life, cancerous Walter Mitty kind of way. I apologize to her. She apologizes to me (and creepily tries to bond with me over it). Apparently, he had been her 24/7 slave for quite a few years. I don't ask how things turned. It's just too disturbing. I feel really lucky that I found out after just a few weeks. I did talk to him once, briefly, on the phone when his wife forced him to get on, and he cursed at me.
The second submissive I met wasn't married -- just living with his girlfriend.
*rolling my eyes*
Mss
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