Playing Their Game

I want to tell you a story about my girlfriend, well she was my girlfriend and her name was Trixie.

I met Trixie while we were both at university, she was studying economics while I was doing a law degree. We met at a mutual friend’s house party and hit it off straight away.

I guess you could have called us stereotypical ‘rockers’ I kept my hair long and had a long beard, I was rarely seen out of a band tee with blue denims and my old faithful leather biker jacket. I still remember what she was wearing the first night we met, a black PVC bra with a mesh top over it, ripped black leggings with a black mini skirt and big black boots. Her hair was dark and curly and it cascaded over her shoulders, she was a busty Goth goddess and if there is such a thing as love at first sight I think I found it.

I’ll spare you the boring details but as I said we hit it off and spent the night together, after that we were pretty much inseparable for the remainder of uni, we did all the parties, all the club nights, we did drugs and drank to excess, we stayed up late and missed many morning lectures, man she and I lived a wild life, she was a wild girl and in the bedroom? Well she was something else or maybe someone else would be a better turn of phrase.

You see for how ballsy and wild she was in her day to day life she was very submissive in the bedroom, she was up for anything and was completely obedient. I joked to her that she was like a different person at night and she said that she found the contrast to be so sexy, to just let someone else make all the decisions, to be a completely different person, someone she would never be in her regular life.

From that point we started building her submissive ‘character’, we even put together an outfit of what we thought an unobtrusive, obedient girl would wear that included modest clothing, very little makeup with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Eventually she even found a mousy brown pixie cut wig that she added to the ensemble. I’d often come home to find her decked out in her costume, I’d know I was in for a damn good night.

When uni came to an end we both graduated with decent degrees, a minor miracle considering how many classes we missed. We moved into a cheap one bedroom flat and went about getting jobs. Trixie found a job as a financial risk analyst almost immediately, I on the other hand was finding the task a little more difficult. You see Trixie was able to tone down her Goth looks by slightly adjusting her makeup and it was not uncommon to wear a lot of black in a work wardrobe but there weren’t a lot of law firms looking to hire a beardy rocker no matter how good I looked in my sharp suit.

After several months I finally got a break, I interviewed with a firm that was able to look past my appearance to see my great degree and work ethic. Although they did look past my appearance they weren’t about to ignore it, they offered me a position on one condition, that I cut my hair and shave my beard. I really needed this job but my hair and beard were a part of my identity, I asked for some time to consider their offer and they gave me 24 hours.

Trixie was really supportive, she helped me see that I was more than just my hairy bits and it would be silly to let such a little thing stand in the way of me getting a job that I really wanted. She even joked that it would be like dating another man dating a clean cut version of me.

I called back the next day and accepted their offer, one stop off at the barbers and I was welcomed into the Bingley,Bingley & Swinham family.

As time went by things were going great, I was a natural fit at the firm and Trixie was finding success in her role. Away from work we continued in our regular partying ways, just not on work nights. The money we were bringing in meant we were able to move to a nice house and I asked Trixie to marry me, she said yes!

After a couple of years I was called into a meeting at work, it turns out they were looking to change the name of the firm to Bingley, Bingley, Swinham & Thomas (that’s me Steve Thomas). I couldn’t believe my luck, they were going to make me a full partner, it all hinged on a case in New York, a case that I was going to be handling personally.

I broke the news to Trixie, she was overjoyed but with a twinge of sadness, we’d never spent more than a weekend apart since meeting and now I would be away for six weeks at least. She joked with all the extra money I’d be making as partner she’d be able to give up her job when we got married. She was right, we’d be richer than even I thought possible if I got made partner. We joked around at going to firm functions in our attire we would normally wear outside of work hours, “Hello, my name is Steven Thomas of Bingley, Bingley, Swinham & Thomas and this is my Goth bombshell wife Trixie” we laughed and drank as I packed and had goodbye sex, before I knew it I was on my way to New York and six weeks on my own.

Work went well, I felt in control at all times but I missed Trixie terribly, we kept in touch via Skype daily but it wasn’t the same as having my fiancé in my arms. I nailed the case though and was congratulated by my new fellow partners over the phone. After six long weeks I was finally going home. I called Trixie and she said she would meet me at the airport, we couldn’t wait to see each other.

The seven hour flight felt like it took seven weeks but finally I was home however I was a little worried when Trixie wasn’t at the gate to meet me. I waited for about 15 minutes and most people had left, all except a woman holding a card with my name on it, I’d been so busy looking for Trixie I hadn’t noticed her. On approaching her I was shocked.

“Trixie?!”

“Shhh, I prefer to go by Beatrix outside of the house darling, Welcome home, I’ve missed you so much”

She was almost unrecognisable, she was wearing an olive green twinset with matching flats, a tweed knee length skirt, and an unassuming thin gold chain with pearl earrings. She had foregone her usual contact lenses and was wearing very plain looking gold full rim glasses. She was wearing her pixie wig or so I thought, nope that was her real hair!

After our embrace I held her at arm’s length and really took in the changes, she was wearing little makeup and her features looked softer, in fact she looked softer all over, the cardigan did little to hide her plumper arms and she had a noticeable pot belly. She looked to have packed about 20 lbs onto her frame. Her breasts didn’t appear to have grown any, I later found out that this was because she was wearing a minimiser bra, having breasts too large wasn’t proper.

On the ride home she was very quiet and demure, I didn’t say much myself I have to admit I was pretty shell-shocked. Once we were indoors she grabbed me and kissed me passionately.

“You must be wondering what’s going on?” She asked, “It had crossed my mind” I replied. “Before you left and we were joking about functions, we laughed about you introducing your Goth wife but I got thinking, it wouldn’t do really would it?”

“Honey I don’t care what they think of you, I love you and that’s what counts, you didn’t have to do this”

“Oh but I wanted to, what could be a bigger thrill than taking my submissive character out of the bedroom and playing it around others? Now I get to play as Beatrix for everyone and you still get to come home to Trixie.”

I grabbed her and kissed her ferociously, “You kinky thing, you” I grabbed her by her chubby belly “you’re not doing things by half are you?”

“Of course not, to world Steven Thomas will have the perfect little wifey, someone who stays at home and tends house, does whatever she’s told and fits in perfectly at the country club. Just waiting to get married and get pregnant.” She said with a wry smile.

“And I’ll still be your hell cat when you get home” she said biting my lip.

I married Beatrix later that year in a nice little church wedding attended by my partners at the firm and a few close members of the family. We told everyone we were honeymooning in Vermont but we actually went to Miami and Hollywood and partied hard.

We moved into a big house in the country just outside the city for my commute, Sunday’s are normally spent with me playing golf with the partners while Beatrix takes tea with the spouses at the country club, although it’s normally done with stinking hangovers as we like to go clubbing on a Friday and Saturday night. Although we’ll have to cut back for a little while because Trixie and I are expecting our first child. To the world we’re the perfect fairy-tale newlyweds,  we’re playing their game and winning.