Possession 2 (Patreon)

I can still remember how strange the air felt the day I first met you.

I got off the train in a city I had never seen before, hoping for a new life. I had no idea what kind of life I'd find. In fact, if you had asked me, I didn't even know this kind of life could exist.

The air I was used to was thin and clean. It blew down from the mountains and across the flat plains, smelling of the plants and leaves it passed.

Here, it felt crowded and stagnant, full of gas and oil. I walked down the sidewalk carrying my bags, moving between each crowd. The air was regurgitated, like it had been breathed too many times before coming to me.  I stopped suddenly, as a person was directly in front of me, and I avoided eye contact as we went by each other.

He said something in a language I didn't understand, and I tried to mutter an apology that didn't come out right.

I didn't know where the bus from the airport had dropped me off. I checked my phone, and it showed a way to my new apartment. I followed it as it took me across the street.

A horn blasted in my ear, and I stopped in my tracks as a bus rushed in front of me, and splashed me with cold water. I blushed, then continued across after.

There was a staircase leading underground, surrounded by steel cage bars. I took it down. I lifted my bag as much as I could over the stair but it still hit each step.

The subway station was like something I had only seen in movies, where they were shown as cold, dirty places the characters went through when their luck ran out. Here, it was no difference, except for the crowds.

There was a toll both with iron bars stopping me from getting in. I walked up to the glass case with a guard in a blue uniform inside, reading a paperback novel.

"Hello?" I said, he didn't turn.

"Hello?!" I said louder.

He looked up from his phone. "What?" he asked.

I pointed at the bars. "How do I get in?"

"You need a ticket."

I took money out of my pocket. "How much?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not here, over there." He pointed behind me, and I saw a machine marked "tickets."

I blushed, and imagined he was rolling his eyes at me when my back was turned. I had heard people in the city were less polite then back home. "Thank you!" I said.

"No problem," he said, and went back to his book.

I went to the machine, and after some tries, made it inside. It was even more crowded there, and even more so on the train itself. I hugged my suitcase and long coat close, conscious of how much room I was taking up, and dreading the thought of someone pointing it out.

It was five stations until I got off. I watched as the crowd dwindled with each stop, but didn't try to sit down. I clutched everything tight and didn't move. The idea of attracting attention in this new, busy, crowded place terrified me, and not for the first time I considered quitting right away and going back.

I breathed heavily to calm myself. I couldn't go back- I knew that.

At the stop I got off and ran out of the station. I thought I heard some snickers of people I passed, I tried to ignore it.

The stop took my out to a street corner. Across from me there was a park, or what counted as one in the city- a block or two left undeveloped, with grass and trees. Beyond that, there was a line of tall cement and steel towers. It was the first time I had seen them clearly since arriving. For a second, if I squinted, I could tell myself they were the mountains I used to stare across the plains back home.

The effect didn't last long. Mountains didn't have windows. Instead, it made me realize I had been surrounded by the same the entire time. I hadn't noticed, as I was looking at the ground and the people around me. I looked up, seeing the walls around me on all sides climbing hundreds of meters into the air.

Another difference- mountains didn't give me the same vertigo.

I felt dizzy. I turned away from the park and the buildings beyond it and started walking back into the city toward the apartment I had rented. A group was in front of me, and I tried to step into the street, but stopped when a car honked at me. I waited and kept going.

It was all too much for me. The crowds, the buildings, the gas and the horns, it was more to process each minute then I would see in a week back home. I turned on a random corner hoping to find a less packed street, but it was more of the same. I turned into an alley, and walked down it to catch my breath. There was an entrance to a store, I went in without looking.

The space inside was dark, open, and most importantly, quiet. Soft piano music played, which was far better then the chaotic noise of the street.

It seemed to be a clothing store- some kind of high fashion. A lot of leather and odd clothes. I started shuffling around, pretending I was interested. I had figured there would be clothing in the city that was odd, but this was even stranger then I expected. A wall of underwear with lacy and ruffles, another with short skirts, some single piece outfits, a lot of leggings and vests.

I ended up in front of a mannikin with a dress on. The dress was a light pink and white, and hung from the mannikin's shoulders on straps. It was mainly cotton, though there were shiny parts on the chest and shoulder straps I expected were plastic or real or fake leather. It was odd on its own- like a fashion meant to be odd or cute. I was sure I had heard a name for it though I couldn't place.

However, there was else odd about the cut that I couldn't quite tell. It didn't look right. Something about the shape of it was off. It hung from the mannikin's shoulders in a square shape.

I realized the shoulders were bulging out from the neck. There was another manikin beside it in a leather corset, and it had a narrower build.

"Oh!" I gasped, and put a hand to my mouth. The mannikin was meant to be male, and the reason the dress looked odd was because it was made for a man.

I looked around the store, more closely this time and without just keeping my eyes on the ground. A ton of leather clothing, a lot of clothes I would have called feminine but cut for men and clothes I would have called masculine cut for women. The one piece outfits were in fact onesies, sized for adults but made to look infantile as possible. Looking beyond that, there was an entire other wall covered in the things I would have known as fetish stuff- handcuffs, chains, collars, and long implements I assumed were for hitting people.

It was a fetish store.

I kept me hands to my mouth, and my chest fluttered. Everything inside me was turning. I had known stuff like this existed, but had never seen it in reality. Looking around it for the first time was like seeing an entirely new world, or even a series of entire new worlds. My mind spun with new, terrifying possibilities that I had never even considered.

I stared at the dress. What did it mean to me that there was a dress that would not only fit me perfectly, but was made for someone like me? It was MEANT for me, it wouldn't be wrong if I bought it for myself. I had never thought of it, and I didn't know how to react to the fact I was undeniably excited by the thought.

I looked again at the rest. I could have someone tie me to the bed, where I would be helpless, unable to stop as they did whatever they wanted to me. That wasn't a bad thing here, but what was expected if I wanted it. Why was that exciting? (And, though I didn't notice at the time, why did I think of it as "someone" rather then "A woman?") There were animal masks and collars, there were outfits made to look childish, all things I never saw before that I could try if I wanted. A hundred walls I had never even realized were in my mind suddenly made themselves apparent, then disappeared, all in seconds, and nothing I knew or understood before mattered.

"I think you'd look good in it, you know."

"OH!" I said. I turned to the feminine voice speaking beside me. A woman, based on her nametag the store owner, dressed in a tight black jeans, a buttoned black collared shirt, and, I noticed, a leather collar with a ring, was asking. She was short, with dark brown hair, and solidly built. "Miranda," her tag said.

"I ummm..."

She stepped up closer to me and looked up at it. "I think its your size even, so if you are considering it you could take that as a sign. If not we have other sizes. What are your measurements?"

"My... measurements?"

She smiled. "Yes, for a dress."

I laughed, but quickly stopped. It was something I had never considered. "I don't know," I replied. "I haven't worn dresses before."

"Hmmm... Ok," she said. "Do you want the dress? Or to try it on."

"I," I did. However, I was scared of admitting that, and scared of why I might want to. "No thank you," I said.

"Oh, ok, well we have other stuff. You have anything in mind? How about a corset? Or a collar?"

"I umm thanks, but I think I am good."

"I see," she said.

We stood a  moment looking at each other. I tried to maintain eye contact, but ended up looking away.

"Hmmm... You are new here, aren't you? I thought I had met everyone in the community here."

"I just moved here from my parent's farm."

She nodded. "That's ok farm boy." The way she said the term, though it was a normal term, sounded odd in her mouth. There was a subtle hind of humor. Almost teasing, though not quite condescending, as if she was speaking to someone smaller then herself. It was barely there, and I wasn't sure I noticed it, but it still gave me butterflies. "If you want to get to know people, we have a club where we meet. I could introduce you to some people." She paused as if thinking. She examined my face closely, then smiled. "In fact, I think I know at least one person who would REALLY like to meet someone like you. You're very cute, you know."

"Cute!?" I said. My hair stood on end and I felt my face turn deep red.

I was a man. Growing up, the idea of a man being anything close to the word "cute" was out of the question, and if someone said it to another it would probably have caused a fight. Here, however, she said it as enduring, clearly a compliment. Worse, despite myself, I found that LIKED being called it, and had no idea how to react to that.

If someone back home saw me seem to like that, it would not have ended well. Of course, my just being there would have been a problem on its own.

She laughed. "Yes, why is that a problem? Michael, my partner, would love your face."

"Michael?" I said. It was a man's name. Another man, who thought I was cute and would "love my face," and it shouldn't have felt like a good thing. This store I had turned into for relief ended up being more confusing then the city itself.

"Yes. Speak of the devil."

A bell went off behind me as the door opened. "And I shall appear," said a deep voice.

I turned around and looked at him. Tall, well dressed in a buttoned down pea coat and heavy boots, though he didn't seem to mind the cold at all. His hair was scrambled a bit, but he wore it in a way that made it appear deliberate. Everything about him spoke of confidence.

He walked toward me, and met Miranda right in front of me. She turned to face me. "Yes, this is?" She looked at me.

"Michael," I said slowly.

"What? What's your name silly."

"Ummm... Jackson."

She giggled. "This is Jackson, and he just arrived from being a farmboy off somewhere with his parents. He's cute isn't he? He was looking at that dress there, and I think he'd have a lot of fun at the club."

He looked at me and smiled. "I think he would too. Did you liked the dress?"

"Yeeeeahhh..." I droned. I don't know if I really heard the question before I answered.

I couldn't move. I was staring up at his eyes, which I just noticed as he came closer. They were deep, and a color I couldn't describe, just inhumanly clear crystals that took in everything around them. I felt as if I was staring into a bottomless pool of impossibly clean water, staring for miles into nothing, about to sink down forever and ever and ever...

To this day I don't know what color they are, blue, grey, silver. Everytime I look at them I feel my thoughts dissolve and all memories of them fade. To me, they are sill just the clean, empty crystals, more beautiful then I thought could exist.

"I could get it for you you know."

"WHAT?!" I said, momentarily breaking out of the spell.

"I could get the dress for you if you want it but can't afford it yet. It's nothing to be ashamed of, you just moved here and will be making money too soon. Just wear it to the club."

My heart beat heavy. There was a man in front of me with those impossible eyes. He was strangely beautiful, and I had never even considered that a man could be beautiful before. And he was offering to buy me clothes. Not just clothes, a dress. He wanted me to wear a dress for him to his club, and I found I wanted the same thing. Nothing made sense.

"No, I can't," I finally blurted out. Why would he want me in a dress?

And why do I want it?

"You sure?" He shrugged and looked down at me. I was trapped by his eyes again. "That's ok. Do you still want to visit our club?"

I'd do anything to see him again. "Yes," I said.

Miranda smiled and handed me a card. It was black with gold embroidery spelling "The Possessed, A Club for All Desires. 188 Trakand Ave, top floor. Invite only." Winged demons danced around the word in the same gold.

"Thank you," I said, still reading the card. "What do I wear?"

Miranda answered. "If you are nervous about going out in kink wear or don't own anything, just wear all black."

"Ok," I blushed. "Will people see me going in?"

She smiled. She reached to a shelf and took off a mask. It was a venetian style, black with small crystals, and had feathers going to the side. "Here farmboy, wear this, and no one will know its you."

I looked at the mask. Was it a feminine style or masculine style? Did that exist for masks?

I looked back at the dress. Did that exist at all here?

"Thank you," I said and turned to leave.

"Tell them Michael invited you and they'll let you in, farmboy," he said.

I thanked him again, but didn't turn. I didn't want to risk looking at him and feeling the same things again. I left, and only noticed then that the store itself was called "The Possession Shop."

That night I lay awake in my bed for hours. It was a singly mattress on the ground in my empty bachelor apartment.

My mind spun around the thousand new things I had seen that day. The crowds, the streets, the buildings the sounds. The strange clothes, all the strange implements and toys, and the knowledge I could wear and use them if I wanted to. The visions of myself in all of them, experiencing things with people in ways I never dreamed.

But one thing that rode high and above all of them- those clear, impossible eyes.