by Berri Fox
I take a deep breath and wait for the panic to rise in me. I hold the breath for so long the lights swim and the other voices in the room become a roar of background noise. Through all of it, only one thing is solid. Only one thing is real.
Roxy.
Everyone else in this room is a painted mannequin. My God, how did I never see this before? The societal constraints I have been living my life by are completely false. Everyone in this room is ‘trying to be a good person’ but what does that even mean?
Roxy is a good person. Okay, so she’s messy and she swears a lot. But she doesn’t judge anyone. She just wants to be free to do her own thing and because that’s important to her, she would never impose constrictions on others.
“Well.” Roxy’s really getting worked up now. “You’d be surprised how far a monkey can get with a rake. The little bastard was using it to climb fences, leaning it on the wall, scurrying up it, hitting the top and pulling the rake up to do it in the next yard. Animals were screaming in every pen. The ranger came looking for me and my ass was fired on the spot.”
She pauses for a sip of wine, tongue touching the edge of her lip.
“Of course, even though I was fired, and I wasn’t going to get paid, they still made me catch the fucking monkey!”
Roxy looks around. Lisa is trying to summon an expression that isn’t shock and Sharon is smiling and shaking her head, waiting to insert her cutting remark. People at other tables are looking at us like we are the monkeys.
When my laugh bursts out of me, it echoes around the restaurant. Lisa actually jumps and Sharon breaks her bitch face to frown at me.
I can’t stop laughing. I want to hold my stomach I’m laughing so hard. Roxy stares at me in shock and I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it tight.
“Darling.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “You know I love the monkey story.” I shake my head and laugh even louder. “Tell another!”
An old man at the next table actually shakes his head at me. In a moment of extreme defiance, I stick my tongue out at him.
I’m going to get kicked out of Pierre’s. It’s my worst nightmare. And I’m having the time of my life.
“Okay, so I once worked for this packing company—oh, no wait. I signed a nondisclosure there.”
I laugh so hard I actually snort. Roxy giggles and squeezes my hand.
“Okay, okay. So, I was drummer in a band, right? I’d only done a couple of gigs with them. At the last second, they had to get a new singer. I was there belting out a solo when she stood up and sang like a cat being swung on the ceiling. It was a fucking train wreck! I got booze thrown at me, literally thrown at me, even though my work was flawless.”
“It seems someone has thrown too much ‘booze’ at you tonight, dear.” Sharon sips her wine as if to demonstrate how wine should be properly consumed.
Lisa gives her a hard look. I lean close to Roxy and kiss her cheek, stroking her hair.
“Don’t be jealous Sharon.” I say it loudly, way too loudly. “Just because nothing exciting has ever happened to you, don’t take it out on others.”
For the first time since we walked in there is utter silence at our table. To my relief, Lisa has a chuckle, leaning close to soothe her girlfriend.
“I’m going to the lady’s room!” Sharon stands up suddenly and swishes away in perfect small strides that show off her butt in the white dress. It’s a nice butt. A pity that it’s attached to a giant ass.
“Helen, I don’t know what to say.” Lisa’s expression is surprised but calm. Her eyes shine with warmth and when she reaches across the table, I take her hand eagerly, surprised at the warm smile that widens on my face.
“I’ve never seen you like this Helen.” She shakes her head. “You’re so free, so uninhibited. I never thought I would see this side to you.” She turns to Roxy and grabs her hand too, the three of us making a little triangle across the table.
She stares seriously into Roxy’s face.
“You take care of her, you hear? I was so worried about her. She’s just so locked down all the time! Now I see that she’s not really that way, she just keeps a low profile at work.” She glances back to me, smiling and shaking her head.
“I underestimated you, Helen. All I wanted was to see you happy. Now that I have, I want you to start on your section. Straight away. I want it in the next issue. Roxy, you are welcome at the magazine anytime you like. Don’t worry about Sharon. She’ll warm up.”
Roxy tilts her head and grins back at Lisa as if they’ve known each other for years.
“Thank you.” The way Roxy looks into Lisa’s face, I think it’s a real thank you. I feel warm and fuzzy that everyone’s getting along. I’m so happy that I almost forget this is fake.
I look down quickly to distract myself and take a bite of mousse. I barely remember ordering and I’m not sure I even ate. Participating in Roxy’s enthusiasm turned out to be more appetizing than the food.
Something touches my arm and I look over at Roxy, licking chocolate off my lips.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” She asks softly.
“Go! Yes, go!” Lisa exclaims as if she feels left out by all our enthusiasm. “Get out of here you lovers. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be waiting for Sharon.”
“Okay.” I feel my old shyness coming back, safe, dependable Helen. As we get up from the table, I keep my eyes down. When Roxy grabs my hand though, I feel instantly affected by her energy. I turn and smile at her and the grin she gives me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I don’t even care that my apartment is a mess or that she drank all my champagne. She had fun, apartments can be cleaned and there’s plenty more champagne in the world.
I wrap my arm around her, and we walk towards the entrance. I feel Roxy stumble a few times and I hold her tight. I had forgotten that she needed support to survive the heels.
I wrapped myself around her to walk out together. To let all these stuck-up assholes in here know, I’m not ashamed to be with her.
I realize I’ve thrown my heart out into the ring. This is one of the reasons I’ve never done it before. It’s terrifying thinking, I might not get it back.
But Roxy might be worth the risk.
Sixteen
Roxanne
In the cab on the way back, I feel exhausted but on an emotional high like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Every moment of my life has been tainted by something, a dark ugliness in me that screams at me that I don’t belong.
I’ve never belonged anywhere. Never felt at home for even a second. I think that’s why I just kept running. I didn’t think I’d ever find a home, not really. I was just running from all the places that made me feel that way.
Tonight was the furthest I had ever been from fitting in. From the second I saw that restaurant with it’s fancy place settings and crisp white tablecloths, I knew I was going to fuck this up worse than anything I’d ever done.
I could feel myself getting out of control. I dealt with it the only way I knew how, by getting louder. I managed to keep myself reined in enough that I didn’t swear too much and slur my words, but I still knew I could never fit in there.
Then it all changed with Helen’s laugh.
That loud, mirth filled sound was as shocking as glass breaking. When I looked at her and saw her joy was real and not forced, I felt a sense of gratitude in me that almost made me cry.
The darkness shadowed behind it was too close. It can’t last. The good feelings never do. But in that moment, I was whole. I was with someone who cared about me. For at least those few seconds, my life was perfect.
I look over at Helen in the dark and finally, I do feel sick. I’ve always held my own when it comes to drinking, but now that I’m coming down my stomach twists and flips. What will happen when we get back? Will Helen start getting upset over the apartment again? Was it all a lie? Maybe she was just covering for me and she was inwardly mortified.
I don’t know her. Just because sh
e came off initially as someone who can’t loosen up to save themselves, doesn’t mean she’s not a terrific actress.
The cab pulls up in front of the building and I get out, still teetering on my heels. I take them off right there on the street. When Helen puts an arm around me, I lean into her and we head upstairs.
I’m scared to speak. I don’t want to fuck this up. If only there was a manual you could follow—‘how to not fuck up the best relationship you’ve ever had’. It would sell more copies than the Bible.
When we get inside and I see the apartment I feel sick again. I look at Helen and wait for her to get upset with me.
She just smiles.
“I’m really sorry about messing up your place.” I almost trip over my own words. “I’ll clean it up tomorrow.”
“Okay Roxy.” She slips out of her shoes. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did this evening. I’m finally going to get my own section in the magazine. Lisa was so happy that I found a girlfriend, she might even give me a raise!”
The habits of those that keep ‘normal’ jobs are still a mystery to me, so I just nod and sit down.
“I’m going to have a few shots. Do you want some Roxy?”
“No thanks.” Thinking to myself that this is probably the first time I’ve ever refused free alcohol. “I’ll have a coffee.”
To my surprise, Helen makes one for me and brings it with her bottle of vodka and shot glass. I watch her smash three hard shots while I’m still on my first sip of coffee. This girl could really fucking party, if she let herself.
She leans back on the couch, raising her arms and wriggling to stretch her back.
“That was just the best.” She shakes her head, thick long hair spraying out across the cushions. “The dinner, Lisa’s reaction, Sharon… The whole thing. I don’t think I’ve had so much fun my entire life!”
I don’t know what to say. I sip my coffee, thankful that it’s settling my stomach. I’ve had lots of fun before but compared to this it seems way too edgy to actually be fun.
“Are you okay, Roxy?” Helen sits up and looks at my face, hand on my shoulder.
I feel something inside me. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s so intense and huge it feels like it might sweep me away. This is all too real. I need to run, I need to get the fuck out of here.
But I can’t leave Helen, and that’s the scariest thing about this whole situation. I can’t leave Helen.
Then she puts her hand on the side of my face and kisses me.
We’ve been kissing all night. Quick pecks on the cheek or a press of the lips between words. This is different. She opens her mouth just slightly and I fall into the kiss, keeping my hands frozen by my sides as she runs her fingers across my shoulders.
I pull back, almost frantically. I’m terrified and I don’t think I’ve ever really been scared. Not even when I was working at a circus doing stunt moves on a motorbike.
Helen looks confused and I see her face flicker with uncertainty. I realize that she’s vulnerable too. The laughing, confident woman I saw tonight really isn’t the real Helen. The real Helen is quiet and uncertain. She covers that uncertainty with an ocean of calm.
It’s like we are both standing on a precipice. I know that hers is very different to mine, but they are equally as scary. By pulling back I’ve hurt her.
I can’t handle that. I can’t leave her hanging on the edge. Not when I can save her.
I lean in, letting my hand creep around her neck. I pull her towards me and when our lips touch it’s electric. I feel it flare through my entire body, not just the usual hot spots. Those ache like they are being squeezed but the hypersensitivity flares across every single inch of my skin.
The kiss goes on for some time, both of us exploring each others lips and using our tongues to feel our way around each others’ mouths. There’s an innocence to it, something that seeks to give and never, ever take away.
I feel like I might cry, and I’m so embarrassed I struggle away, scooting back on the cushions. Helen looks surprised, but not hurt.
“Are you okay?” She asks me. It’s one of the very few times in my life that anyone has asked me that.
I nod slowly. “I’m okay.”
She smiles. “I know. It’s pretty intense, isn’t it?”
I look up into her eyes, letting myself feel that connection between us but not trying to examine it at all. I don’t want this to end.
“Roxy.” Her voice sighs out in a whisper and I’m about to hurl myself across the distance between us and devour her when she leans over to whisper in my ear.
“Would you let me tie you?”
Tension streaks through me. Fear is my initial reaction and why wouldn’t it be? Being tied is a huge act of trust. You put your life in the hands of another. People can say ‘it’s not that bad’ or ‘you’re taking this too seriously’ but guess what.
They are assholes.
“No sex.” Helen says softly. “Not even naked if you don’t want to be. I don’t think I’m ready for sex yet. But I would love to tie a design on you… Would you let me?”
I want to say no. I want to say, lets just go to bed. But I can’t run from this. If I do it will hurt us both and probably damage the connection we have only just made.
Besides. I’m known for my bad decisions. If it’s a stupid fucking idea, you can trust Roxy to jump right on in.
Really, it’s the only way to keep your life action packed. I’m coming to understand that maybe I don’t want an action-packed life. This tie probably won’t be high on the scale of action, anyway.
But exciting, enticing, luscious, wonderful… It could be all of those things, especially if Helen is an experienced rope caster. From the way she’s looking at me, I think she might be.
I just say the only thing there is to say.
“Yes.”
Seventeen
Helen
I’m shocked when Roxy says yes.
I know I’m rushing things. Rope art is so very intimate. It binds the participants in a sacred trust. I know all of this, but the only thing I can think right now is how gorgeous Roxy would look in a rope.
Part of me was hoping she would say no.
She smiles and kisses me, and I push against her shoulders, kissing her back. I’ve never encountered anything as exciting as this strange girl I literally plucked from the gutter.
Who doesn’t love a good Cinderella story?
Everyone who thinks fairy tales are fake. I used to be that person. I don’t know who the fuck I am today.
Roxy pulls back a little and I go to get my rope. The few lamps that light the apartment cast shadows that are warm instead of threatening. I get to my room and rummage through my secret chest.
I used to keep it locked, even here at the foot of my bed. I live alone, I don’t often have visitors and none of my family or friends would ever come in here.
Still. I kept it locked with a massive cast iron padlock and hid the key in the ceiling. I was that fucking paranoid that someone would find my gear.
I run my fingers over the chains, whips and cuffs. For me it’s more the suggestion, the anticipation that is the turn on. I don’t want to get hurt and I certainly don’t want to hurt anyone. But a little danger makes the sex so much sweeter, especially if you know that you’re completely safe the whole time.
I choose a dark purple rope, made of cotton and satin thread. It’s very soft and easy to use, slightly slippery. No matter how tight you make the knots, rope like this will come undone under a bit of force. It’s not for rigging or for bondage, it’s for show.
I run it through my hands as I make my way back to the living area. When I come back, I don’t see Roxy straight away and I worry that she’s changed her mind.
Then I see her silhouetted against the window. The light from the city adds a pale glow to her skin. She looks over her shoulder at me, smile soft and somehow hesitant. She’s pulled the dress down to her waist and taken off the bra
.
For some reason, the dress hanging loosely from her hips draping her lower body and leaving the top half bare, is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. I’ll have to keep that in mind for the shoots I plan to do in the future.
She reaches out her hand and I go to her, taking it. We put our heads together, but we don’t kiss, just feeling the warmth between us grow.
She runs her hands over the rope, her fingertips trailing on my hands. In the silence there is something between us that seems to sing. After looking into each others’ eyes for a few minutes I take a step back and start to run the rope through my hands.
A rope like this doesn’t need much prep time, but I like to run it through my hands several times to get a feel for it. Roxy smiles at me, happy and relaxed as she watches me work the rope.
When I step towards her, she closes her eyes and a deep sigh breathes through her lips. I touch her skin with the rope and watch the goosebumps flare across her body, making her nipples pucker.
I’m tempted to kiss her, run my fingers down low to that sweet wet cave. To tease her with my fingers until she’s a raining flood then get down there and drink it up with my lips. But I don’t.
As I move the rope, I let my fingers touch her gently. I put all my passion, all my desire into the softest of touches, not quite teasing. A promise.
After a few seconds I become entranced by the tie. My fingers work independently of themselves and my mind stands back, letting my ego build as I tie this beautiful creature in satin threads.
I’ve tied and been tied before. I would say, if asked, that I prefer to be tied. Subbing might require trust, but it’s easy. You’re in charge. You have all the power.
Being the top, that requires responsibility. You can’t lose control. You have to watch your sub carefully, not just for a safe word or gesture but to read if they have had enough but can’t say stop.
Pleasure gets the best of us all. Once the body is completely wrung with lust, you can’t feel any pain. The person in charge must stay completely focused on their sub at all times to make sure they don’t get hurt.