Entrepreneur, Mistress, Goddess... Lexi

I had what she was looking for. An Omega personality. Introverted but still social, sensitive, somewhat intelligent but I’ll never be able to acknowledge that and a hopeless romantic with deviant desires.

I was assigned male at birth, but my desires will always be feminine. For a majority of my life, I played the hand I was dealt despite my gender dysphoria. As an embryo, I suppose that proto-me just couldn’t withstand the testosterone onslaught. In my family, my community and the world at large, it wasn’t (and still isn’t) acceptable for anyone to be any way other than what society expects of gender at birth. This explains a lot about me.

I’m kinda envious of what’s acceptable for women. They can be any personality type, change their mind like the wind, they’re allowed and expected to be emotional. Women can change their look at will, in most developed countries anyway. They’re allowed to be colorful, soft and sensual or a hard, completely punk badass. Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to be any of these things.

I’m not like most men and.. I don’t like most men. There, I said it. A lot of them are self-centered, completely immature assholes and it seems to me that they’re especially endearing to women who are not in full possession of themselves.

Friends describe me as ‘gender queer’. That’s an observation about how I interact with people and the self image I present in spaces that feel safe. I’ve always felt safe at Linx. It’s one of my favorite places on the planet.

Have you ever been there? No? Let me tell you about it. It’s a great bar, a four star casual restaurant, an amazing music venue and a deluxe lounge.

It has the most interesting clientele you will find anywhere. All are welcome, but most are bent in one lovely way or another. While most alt joints cater to an all gay or lesbian crowd, this place is inclusive to the point where labels don’t seem to matter much anymore. If there’s a place I can be myself and feel completely safe… this is it.

I’ve met some amazing people here and always have great conversations. Linx is intentionally set up to enable these interactions. It’s not uncommon to hear a few people talking and laughing aloud about something and see someone at another table chime in with a comment that just blows the place up.

The energy is overwhelmingly positive and just being there makes you feel as if you’re part of something special and somewhat clandestine. It’s the kind of place you can go to by yourself because there’s always good company if you want it. You don’t need to bolster your courage by showing up with a gaggle of friends.

Diversity isn’t the only thing I like about it. Linx has been a launch pad for social projects that have had major impacts, not only to this city, but the world. People who’ve met each other in this place have collaborated on initiatives that run the gamut from small business and internet startups to inner city food co-ops and CSA’s. Recently a bunch of Linx kids began writing bills for state and federal legislators that enable accessibility to important resources.

The artistic ideas, events and endeavors which have sprung forth from this place have enriched the lives of so many. It’s a place for dreamers. Thoughts and ideas shared here seem to have more potential to become reality than anyplace I know. The owner and his partner take great pride in sharing the accomplishments of their patrons with the rest of the clientele. There’s an entire wall full of newspaper and magazine articles, letters and acknowledgements.

Oh, did I say that the music is amazing. I’ve seen so many wonderful musicians, singers and songwriters here and got to hang out with a few.

It’s also an unapologetically obscene scene. People dress any way they want to, dance with reckless abandon and make out with their prey in full display. The reason why everyone feels safe is that no means no. The ethos of the Linx community was built on a foundation of understanding and consensual interaction. No doesn’t necessarily mean you’re bad or wrong. You don’t get anywhere in life if you don’t ask for what you want. For me, that’s never been easy.

If a host doesn’t recognize a guest upon arrival, it’s standard procedure to ask if they’d been there before. If not, they are walked over to a wall in the entryway where five principles are hand written on a chalkboard with an ornate gold frame around it. The guest is asked to read it aloud. The host explains that this is a safe space, we want to keep it that way and guests are expected to conduct themselves with those principles in mind.

With a brief acknowledgement, whoever is standing around will then welcome them with clapping, whistling, snapping, hugs if they’re okay with that, etc. If it’s not too loud in the restaurant or lounge, and we hear that welcome celebration at the entryway, sometimes a wave of clapping and whistling will erupt and roll through the entire place. I remember my first time, the warm fuzzies just about kill you.

If someone acts irresponsibly, they will be approached and surrounded by patrons who out of respect for the sanctity of our community make it their business to figure out what happened. The offending party will be informed about how their words or actions were interpreted to create an unsafe situation. If they acknowledge the feelings of another from the heart, they can stay. If not, they’re shown the door.

Other than alcohol, you will never see an illicit substance and the police have never busted the place. Not once. In fact, I believe that one of the partners who owns Linx used to be involved in law enforcement. Not sure how, but that’s what I heard. You’ll also never see any form of sexual intercourse, unlike other night clubs in town where you have to carefully navigate entwined bodies as you traverse the sticky hallway leading to the bathrooms... Ick !

The person I began talking about is sitting at the bar. Her name is Lexi.

She never liked Alexis, which is what her mom named her and she’s definitely not an Alex so she goes by Lex or Lexi. I’ll never forget my first real run in with her. It was right here at Linx. In fact, I think.. No, I know it was the table I’m sitting at right now. I remember I was trying to formulate design roughs for a job in the little sketch pad that goes with me everywhere.

Lexi showed up with her sly smile and asked in a telling way if she could sit with me. I mean it was more like she was telling me she was about to sit down. I didn’t know her well, but she was a part of my circle. She knows just about everyone I do and she’s friends with almost all of them.

To paint a picture, she doesn’t exactly fit your mainstream definition of beauty and I would say that the majority of Linx patrons don’t either... but she certainly fits mine.

I couldn’t tell what her actual hair color is because it's been dyed so many times. She has green eyes like mine and a constellation of reddish brown freckles across her nose and face. She’s a lot taller than me, but her proportions are appropriate for her height. She wore tight shiny black vinyl pants and red Chuck Taylors. She had an old black Bouncing Souls t-shirt on with the collar torn out which hung off one shoulder revealing a gold satin bra strap. There was a red crystal star hanging from one ear that caught the light and flashed with every move.

I was so intimidated by her.

She sat next to me. Close enough that the side of her hip pushed against mine. She asked what I was up to. I told her that I was just scratching out ideas for a design job I landed that morning. She asked if she was disturbing me. I said “yes... but in a good way.” She smiled.

She asked more about the type of design work I do and she shared that she had an appreciation for good design. I didn’t expect to hear some of the things she told me. Although she wasn’t a graphic designer, she had a definite sense of style and understood the nuance, and functions of design better than some designers I know.

I asked what she did and she happily said that if she didn’t want to do anything, she wouldn’t have to. She runs a company that creates corporate experiences. Her team contracts with businesses who want to do creative retreats that are engineered to inspire and engage their employees in the process of success. It sounded incredible.

She has a roster of guest speakers who are free thinkers, thought leaders, social influencers, unconventional business professionals and artists. Forward thinking TEDx types. They put on creative programs for executives from many different industries in some pretty amazing geographic locations.

Lexi had a backlog of companies that wanted to engage her services, but she could only do three events a year and from a quality standpoint that’s the way it had to be. When she said she creates experiences, you’d better believe that she had the most inspiring settings around the world, the best lodgings, the best instructors and the best chefs money could buy.

Each event has a price tag of a million dollars or more. She shared that her take was about half of that and I nearly spat my gin and tonic. Across those 3 events, she makes around 1.5 million dollars before taxes every year. Wow. She has a handful of reliable people running the show and doesn’t have to do much more than a short conference call each week. There’s no office, no overhead and she could run this from anywhere in the world with internet and a laptop.

She doesn’t own a mansion or a yacht but she does have a boat. A beat up black 1966 Plymouth Fury to be exact. It’s a rare 440 three speed. It’s got patches of primer, minor damage from an accident and it’s missing some chrome. There’s an SG sticker on the back window and black fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. Over the last few years, I’d see her driving around town. She’d honk and wave at me sometimes.

She rents a modest house in a nice area called Queen Anne.

Lexi asked me about myself. She was a little too specific with her questions. My self image, my pronouns, my gender identity and what I thought about where I fit into the world (or how I mostly don’t).

Even though they were personal questions, I felt like I could share my answers with her. I knew that I wouldn’t be judged but I wasn’t absolutely forthright. She asked if she was making me uncomfortable and I told her that I was intimidated by her. Lexi told me that the only harm she could do is the harm I would let her do.

She went on to tell me she has an interest in creating other kinds of experience.

She told me that she’s been looking for a new friend and play partner with a brain who respects and embraces their femininity. Someone who respects strong women and a desire to resign themselves to the needs of a mistress. I was starting to get really warm inside. I asked her to share some details if she wouldn’t mind.

Lexi paused for a long moment and said okay. I could tell that she genuinely felt as though she was taking a risk, but went on to describe how she had this fantasy of training someone. This might seem a bit out there, but fantasy is a fairly standard topic at Linx.

“I want a play partner I can turn into my brazen, punk, hussy girlfriend. Someone I can tease, deny, seduce and reward by allowing them to fulfill my desires.”

Lexi needed someone who would submit to style changes. She wanted to play dress up. To the point where her subject would crave as she put it “with their very soul” to wear what pleases her which would become a new identity she’d craft for her partner. “They would learn to love, embrace, desire and completely embody this identity”.

I thought this was all just a little too perfect. I knew she’d been talking with Lucky, an old housemate and one of the few people I’ve ever shared my affliction with, but at the moment none of that mattered. Inside, I was trembling. The thought that I could be the person she was looking for was almost unbearable.

“Well, what do you think?”

I told her that the person who can fulfill her needs and desires would be charmed. I looked down at the table, and I was glad no one could see what was going on inside.

She elbowed me in the shoulder and I looked into her eyes.

“Do you think that could be you?”

I found myself slowly nodding my head in a lovely, fearful anxiety.

She smiled brightly with an almost giddy energy that you could see ripple through her entire body which lasted all of about three seconds and gave way to a very serious look.

Lexi reached around my back and pulled all of my long hair together. She instructed me to hold my hair up with one of my hands. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a roll of wide, black satin ribbon which she proceeded to wrap around my neck a few times, tying off in back with a bow.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced collaring, but it was the one that will stay with me forever. The most common understanding is a public declaration of ownership, devotion or subservience in a D/s relationship, but collaring means so much more to me than that. To me, it is an encouragement to be a brave and sensuous soul. A comforting invitation. Permission to love myself and give myself fully.

She rolled up on one knee, throwing her other knee across my legs. She straddled me on the red sparkle vinyl upholstered bench seat and looked down into my eyes. I looked up into hers and we were face to face. Reaching into another pocket, she produced a tube of something and took off the cap. She reached around, grabbed my pony tail tight in her fist, tilted my head back and began to slowly roll the tube around my lips. It was some kind of gloss.

My lips went full and relaxed, but the rest of me was tight as a drum. Lexi gripped my hair, keeping my head steady. She was in control, lovingly watching my body shudder and my heart flutter. To say that I was being kissed doesn’t do it. She fucked my lips with her gloss slowly and mercilessly for a moment that seemed like an hour.

Lexi let go of my hair and released me, stunned, trembling and surprised by a tear that rolled down my cheek which she scooped up and sucked off her fingertip as if her subjects tears were the most satisfying substance on Earth. Suddenly it was quiet and I noticed that there were a good number of people watching.

She swung her body over and off of mine, landing next to me with a bounce once again. She told me there were a lot of things we needed to talk about. She was working on the next retreat for her business and that her work would wrap up at the end of the month. Lexi asked if that was enough time to finish the design job I was working on. Somehow I managed to tell her it shouldn't be more than a couple weeks.

Lexi said she would have a window of about three months which would be ours and that I shouldn’t worry about anything else during that time. I didn’t know exactly what she meant, I just nodded.

She told me she couldn’t predict what might happen, but that sly smile told me she had plans. No expectations. Lexi didn’t know how things would go and eventually she would have to start working on the next retreat. She would also be traveling abroad once our time together concluded.

There’s one last thing Lexi said she needed to make perfectly clear. “We will never have intercourse, at least not in the traditional sense. If you do what I ask of you, I’ll dance with your darkest desires and you’ll please me in ways that no one else can. Do you understand?”

I whispered yes.

Lexi stood up and so did I. She put her arms around my waist, pulled my lower body tightly against hers, looked down into my eyes and in a matter of fact tone, said she was looking forward to breaking me.

She walked over to the bar, paid her tab, turned, smiled and winked at me on the way out.

I was in trouble. I didn’t know how much, and it scared the hell out of me.

I collapsed back into my seat, closed my eyes and sat still, moving just enough to feel the ribbon around my neck. Endorphins washed over me. My lips were hot and wet, my body was still trembling. I didn’t care who was watching.

Meanwhile, with no one around to see, Lexi did a happy dance on the way down the alley to her car. A short time later I walked home, peeled off my clothing, got into bed and fell asleep.

The ribbon still tied around my neck.