Pancakes in the Closet: An Invitation
I.
“Damn it!” I muttered out loud.
The strap on my bra was broken, and I returned to digging for a replacement. “I don’t know what I am so worried about; it’s just breakfast.” I thought to myself as I checked my body in the mirror. I shook my head and returned to my closet to search more. Then I saw it. In the back was an off-white summer frock covered with small pink flowers. Charmingly sweet, the dress had spaghetti straps, a low-cut front, and nearly 50 tiny white buttons up the front.
I thought about picking up the phone and canceling but having refused his requests so many times, I couldn’t think of what to say.
“Why am I so nervous about this? I was pretty sure I gave up on men.” My forehead wrinkled into a scowl at my inner conversation.
It was true. The break-up of my last relationship was violent. I never thought I would be considered one that would be with a domestic abuser, but I didn’t see the signs until it was too late. The insanity and stress of it all, even thinking back on it, still makes me sick. It had been over two years ago, and I had been firm in my stance of “no.”
Then I met Will. Four months ago, I contacted him online to help with video editing. We had chatted several times and belonged to an online kink dating app. I was…
