The annual meeting of the International Council of Owner/owned Clubs was more crowded than usual, with chapter presidents seated around the oval table in the conference room and at-large members cramming in between and behind them on extra chairs.
“This is a matter that touches on all of us deeply,” intoned Master Josephine, the Council Chief. An Arizona native, she was a short, strongly built woman in her late fifties with white hair gathered in a ponytail tied at the nape of her neck; her broad face was deeply tanned and creased, her eyes dark behind rimless glasses. Her vest was soft deerskin with the back-patch of the Council and her year pins set with beadwork surrounding them; her chaps were fringed and her boots cowboy style instead of engineer or motorcycle. “Not only does it remind us of the danger we risk living our lives honestly and openly, but all the issues around mortality and loss that as a community we rarely address. As the people in the scene who are most intensely involved in full-time, DS based relationships, I feel it is our role to lead the response beyond a little tribute on stage at the contest.”
“I asked Earl if I can change my class tomorrow to one on death,” said Master Bearclaw of Clan Bearclaw. His pink face was framed by pecan colored hair kept shaggy and long in the back, and receding from his low forehead. He rubbed his button nose, turning it a brighter pink over his mustache and goatee. His t-shirt read Because I’m The Master, That’s Why.
“That’s a good idea,” Josephine said with a nod. “But I’m thinking we need to reach out to Paul, and maybe offer a healing circle for slaves, subs and other s-types who have lost their owners.”
“A healing drumming circle!”
“But what about for masters who lost their slaves? No one ever thinks of the masters loss.”
“How about a general memorial service instead of one for Mack?”
“No, an additional one!”
“Yes! And it should be an annual tradition, like they do at the end of the year for movie stars at the Oscars!”
“We could make it a slide show!”
“What is it, 1970? Multimedia, with music – my mistress can compose something.”
“And a fundraiser!”
“But for what? What if we print a brochure about surviving the loss of a partner in an Owner/owned relationship? And put up a website with resources?”
“Could we make and sell a pin?”
“We need a design – a flag! Like…a broken chain! It could be a special interest group!”
They all started talking at once, across the table. Master Josephine leaned back in her chair and snapped her fingers for her slave to bring her a drink. It was good she got the ball rolling on this – it was amazing how no one else seemed to actually do anything. This is why it takes masters and slaves, she thought with satisfaction. And if Mack Steel was a jerk and a selfish idiot in life, he could at least be useful to the Owner/owned community in death.