Kill Switch

by William Hertling

  “Do you think that’s got the same level of newness, necessary invention, and challenge as the protocol work? Shouldn’t it make the people working on it happy and excited?”

  Is that what all this was about? “Melanie thinks it’s a crappy idea. It is new, and there’s stuff to be invented, but she fundamentally believes we should stick with the existing information design.”

  “Why is she working on it?”

  “Because she’s got a PhD in information architecture. Besides myself and Angie she’s the only one with the whole data architecture in her head at once. She doesn’t just see the data tables, she sees the inherent relationships between the data irrespective of the actual database design. If you want to give just one person the responsibility to rewrite the entire data architecture, she’s the logical choice.”

  “Well, that’s just it, really. Why give it to only one person? Why not have the entire data team work on it? Everyone is going to know about it sooner or later. What’s the point of hiding so much?”

  Igloo knew the real answer to that. Because they had to make it appear like the current work was in progress prior to the FISA court order. They couldn’t appear to be opposing the spirit of the FISA court order by rushing to hide data that had previously been in the clear.

  But she couldn’t say that out loud. Besides, wouldn’t Maria know that if she knew all the other details?

  She settled for an alternate truth. “A small, nimble team can usually move faster than a larger team. There’s eighteen of us now. That’s already a hell of a lot of people. If we add more, it would slow us down. We’d spend weeks in meetings trying to figure out what to do.”

  They entered Tapestry’s headquarters.

  “Why so many questions about this?” Igloo said. “Why not ask Angie?”

  “Angie’s busy, of course. But really it’s because Angie has her own, top-down view of things. I want to talk to the people doing the actual work to find out what makes you tick. What makes you do the things you do. How do I get more of the company acting the way you act? Is it possible to take what you’re doing and scale it up? What should I be looking for when we hire new people?”

  Igloo nodded.

  “Also, I like talking to you. This is more interesting than talking to a bunch of execs.”

  “Thanks,” Igloo said. Now she was embarrassed. She stared at her boots and noticed a scuff. She’d ask Essie to polish them.

  “Can I take the conversation in a totally different direction? And please feel free to say no. I don’t want to impose, or make you feel uncomfortable. But I’m curious about what you were talking about with Angie, and if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”

  “The non-monogamy?” Igloo watched Maria’s face.

  Maria smiled. “Yeah.”

  She glanced at the Tapestry lobby, at other employees returning from lunch. “Can we keep walking?” It was easier if she could watch where she was going, and not have to stare at Maria or have Maria stare at her.

  They went back outside and walked around the residential neighborhood behind Tapestry’s headquarters.

  Igloo spent ten minutes summarizing their polyamory adventures. “It started out as such an innocuous thing,” Igloo said. “An experiment to see if non-monogamy was right for us. I think it is right for Essie. She’s having no problems. But I’m jealous all the time.”

  “Jealousy is a big, complex thing. There’s envy, insecurity, loss, fear.”

  “I know, I know. And that’s part of what’s so hard. I feel like I’m losing Essie’s attention, and what was exclusive to our relationship. The way her face lights up when she talks about what she did with Michael, the way she talks faster with more animation. I want her to have that feeling with me.”

  “A guy, huh? Is that challenging?”

  Igloo stared at the ground. “I don’t want it to be. You know, I liked guys once. It’s just… I’ve been hurt too many times. I can’t put myself in that much danger any more. Women are safer.”

  “But you would be interested in guys if you could feel safe, and you’re jealous of Essie being able to date a guy.”

  Igloo nodded slowly. “I feel like I’m betraying every lesbian out there to even want such a thing.”

  “You are what you are, you want what you want. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no lesbian police force.”

  Igloo smiled at the notion.

  Maria chuckled. “It’d be pretty awesome if there was.”

  Igloo looked back up at her. “If I could, I’d end the experiment now. Go back to monogamy. But I’m afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “I’m afraid that if ask for that, Essie will refuse. That she’d rather leave me than go back to monogamy.”

  “If polyamory isn’t right for you, then maybe the relationship should end,” Maria said. “I know that’s hard to bear, but if you want fundamentally different things, then sooner or later, it will end.”

  “But maybe I just need time to adjust.” Igloo said. “Maybe I won’t be so jealous in a few months.”

  “Then you want to keep trying?” Maria asked.

  “I just don’t know. It’s so painful. All the time. I just want to feel better. If I could see the future, know things were going to get better, then I could stand all the pain I’m going through. But if things aren’t going to work out, then why prolong the agony? I might as well leave Essie now.”

  “So you want to leave Essie?”

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  Igloo left the meeting with Maria sucked dry of information. Talking with Maria was always like that. She ended up talking about things she never imagined discussing. It was sad to realize that despite months of working through her emotions with Essie and Charlotte, she was no closer to understanding herself or what she wanted.

  She spent the afternoon implementing features for the protocol work, then realized she’d neglected a bunch of her regular work on the chatbots, so she caught up on reviewing change requests. It was after ten by then, but she thought she could keep going. Strangely, the conversation with Maria made her feel more focused on work.

  Later, on a whim, she sent a message to Charlotte during a bathroom break. They got into a hot conversation about kink. Before she knew it, a half hour had gone by, and she had a bunch of new photos of Charlotte modeling various clothespins and binder clips on her nipples.

  Igloo wished she could see her, but Charlotte was still busy. They had a tentative date in two weeks. Damn, it was so far away. Still, at least this poly thing had some benefits: she had something to look forward to.

  She had to make a call: either waste more hours messaging with nothing to show for it but sexual frustration, go get sexy with Essie, or cut it off and get back to work.

  She sent Charlotte one last message: “Can’t believe I’m doing this, but I’m going to be responsible and get back to work. I’ll see you at rope jam.” She sent another message to Essie, letting her know she was going to keep working until she couldn’t any more.

  Sometime after three in the morning, she decided to call it a night. Her vision was blurry, and she felt sick from too much coffee. She couldn’t stomach the notion of biking home.

  Igloo rolled out her futon mattress and curled up in the corner of her office. She lay there for a minute, feeling proud and accomplished by her productive day. She pulled her pillow over her head and fell asleep.

  Chapter 22

  Igloo puttered around the house, humming along to an old Better Beings album. Essie was sleeping over at Michael’s house tonight, having refused to abide by Igloo’s ultimatum. Igloo was angry about that, and felt that the crack in their D/s dynamic had widened to a vast and spreading fault line.

  But ignoring that aspect of things, she found she was surprisingly calm. Unlike last week, she felt like everything was going to be fine. She sent a quick message to Essie: “Don’t worry about rushing home tomorrow. Enjoy the day. Love you.”

  What made to
day different was that Igloo wasn’t going to sit at home. It was true that Charlotte wasn’t available. It was also true that she should work on T2, but she wasn’t going to do that. Instead, she was going to get the toy bag together and head out. It would be a night for herself. She would try to find some pickup play, and even if all that happened was that she ended up chatting with some friends, that would be okay.

  The toy bag was in massive disarray. She and Essie hadn’t been out since…well, at least a few weeks. Was Deviance with Charlotte the last time she’d played out?

  The rope was in good shape, so she only needed to organize everything. Coils of rope went into a sheet. She checked the smaller bag that held her shibari ring, shackles, and other gear. Her impact toys got rolled up in a sheet of leather. She optimistically charged the vibrator. Who knew how lucky she might get?

  After a quick shower, she donned black pants, tank top, and tall, chunky-heeled platform boots. She walked out the door just as her car showed up. She was so used to Essie driving everywhere, it felt strange to be calling for a ride share. She settled into the empty vehicle, and the self-driving car took off. It deposited her at the address she’d given, a block from her true destination. She turned her phone off after she got out of the car (a hard off, using a switch she’d hardwired in), and walked down the block to Sanctuary.

  The upscale club was one of the newer venues in town. Tall windows with a view of hi-rise mixed-use buildings. Inside, an open layout was sectioned off with curtains into smaller areas for more private play. A long central zone was set up for rope suspension, and there were already a few riggers present.

  Igloo dropped the heavy toy bag by the coat rack, and made her way through the venue, checking out all the play. She knew the two riggers, both men, and both senior members of the rope scene. One was in the midst of floor work with a woman with dark curly hair. The other was putting the finishing touches on a complicated suspension involving two rope bottoms.

  “Igs! Is that really you?”

  Igloo turned and saw Heather, a casual friend from the scene. They’d hung out at a bunch of munches and chatted at rope socials. She was cute. A little basic by Igloo’s standards, but she’d still fantasized about Heather a few times.

  Heather gave Igloo a hug, then held her at arm’s length. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in months.”

  Igloo shrugged. “Essie and I have been holed up at home a lot.”

  “I couldn’t imagine anything would keep you from the scene. Where’s Essie?”

  “She’s out on a date. I came to see if I could find some pickup play.”

  “Oh. Are you guys playing with others now?” Heather’s face brightened, and she took Igloo’s hand. “Hey, Stella and I are going to do a scene in a bit. Would you be willing to tie me afterwards? You and Essie have the best scenes. I would love to play with you.”

  Igloo tried to play it cool, but inside she wanted to strut like a peacock. “Sure, that would be great.”

  “I’ll come find you when we’re done.”

  By the time Igloo had traversed the venue, she’d seen a half dozen people she knew, and found a second person who wanted to be tied. Now she was nervous. She hoped she remembered her rope skills.

  Stella and Heather were wrapping up their scene, so Igloo grabbed an available hard point above a futon mattress, surrounded by couches and spectators. Igloo set up her hardware, adding her ring and swivel under the shackle. She spread out her own black sheet over the futon and laid out her toys.

  By the time she’d finished checking her rope and re-tying a few bundles that had come loose, Stella brought Heather over. Stella gave Igloo a gentle hug as Heather stretched. “Take good care of her,” Stella said. “You know, she’s always wanted to play with you, but she didn’t want to mess with your dynamic with Essie.”

  “Yeah, this poly stuff is all new to us,” Igloo said. “Are you going to watch?”

  “No, I’ve got plans.” She gestured toward a guy waiting by the bar.

  Stella and Heather had been one of Igloo’s inspirations for open relationships that worked. Stella and Heather were pair-bonded but played with others, and from what she’d gleaned, fucked whomever they liked, although they generally went home together at the end of the night. They both seemed to genuinely care about the people they played with, and for some reason, that made what they did more pleasing to Igloo.

  She realized the irony of that viewpoint: she thought Heather and Stella caring about others made their promiscuity more accepting, but when Essie cared about someone else, she found it threatening. The theory of poly always seemed at odds with poly in practice.

  Igloo squatted as Heather sat on the floor running through some shoulder stretches.

  “Is your shoulder bothering you?”

  “It was a few months ago,” Heather said. “But it’s better as long as I stretch. See?” She touched her fingers together behind her back in reverse prayer pose.

  “Good.” Igloo ran through her negotiations list. It was easier than when she’d done it the first time with Charlotte. She got to the end of the list. “What about sexual contact?” Igloo wasn’t even sure she’d want to go there, but it was still nice to know what might be an option.

  “Not here. But ask again later.” Heather gave her a smile that said maybe things would be different in private.

  “Strip,” Igloo said, her voice still light, still casual, but with just a hint of a threat around the corner. She couldn’t have said where her Dommy voice came from, what depths it tapped into.

  When Heather stood naked, Igloo grabbed her first hank of rope. She tied Heather’s right wrist in front of her body, slowly, tugged the knot tight. Heather said her shoulder was fine, but Igloo didn’t want to risk a tie behind the back. She grabbed Heather’s left arm, drew it alongside her other arm, still in front of her body, offset a half inch so the joints wouldn’t rub, and started a self-tightening lacing up both arms in front of her chest.

  “Yow,” Heather said, as Igloo gave a yank tightening the bindings.

  Igloo stepped half a foot closer and stared into Heather’s eyes as she wound the jute down the front of the lacing, locking the rope in place. She smiled, pleased with the slight grimace on Heather’s face. If their play wasn’t going to be sexual, at least it could be painful.

  Igloo grabbed a handful of knot and shoved Heather’s chest backward, careful to brace herself to catch Heather’s weight as she went off-balance, then she buckled Heather’s knees and forced her to the ground. Six months of judo practice let her do the maneuver with some grace, even if Heather outweighed her by a good twenty pounds.

  She grabbed an ankle and started in on a spiral futomomo. She’d suspend Heather from a pair of these. The arm binding would keep her arms pleasantly secure. After she’d tied the legs, she grabbed Heather by the neck. “Now you’re mine,” she whispered into Heather’s ear.

  Heather arched her back, the slightest moan escaping her lips, and with that soft sound, the worries of the day gave way to the flow of rope.

  Igloo woke without being fully aware of waking. She lay in bed, still in that half-conscious state between waking and sleeping.

  Next to her came the soft sound of Heather breathing, her cadence slow and relaxed, still asleep. One arm was draped across Igloo’s stomach. On the other side of Heather, Stella lay, ever so softly snoring.

  She hadn’t known how she’d feel about having Stella over. She had no attraction to Heather’s partner. But Stella had said right up front that she wouldn’t ask for anything sexual from her. Instead they’d taken turns with Heather, mixing up kink and sex, and it turned out to be fun. Easy. So much less complicated than either Essie or Charlotte.

  She felt totally relaxed, as though there’d been a tension in her body that she’d been unaware of all this time, and now it was suddenly gone. Like an ear that cleared after swimming when you didn’t even know it had water in it.

  How could the simple act of playing wi
th Heather have given her this state of relaxation that she hadn’t felt in so long? Was it as simple as being desired by another woman? That was a component to what she felt. Was it sex? The sex was good, and it was deliciously thrilling to receive pleasure from someone other than Essie. That too was part of what she felt.

  Or was it about evening the score with Essie? Essie’s relationship with Michael was so much more than her own relationship with Charlotte, and the difference always felt unfair. This added to her side of the ledger. So that was a piece of it too.

  And yet, even all of those together still felt like less than the whole picture. She couldn’t understand her monkey mind.

  Something in the back of her head said it had to do with control. In her job at Tapestry, she had largely felt no agency for the last year or so. In her relationship with Essie, it felt like Essie called the shots lately, choosing to focus on Michael. In her relationship with Charlotte, Charlotte decided when she was available or not available, determining the pace of things. That pervasive loss of control warred with some deeper need for power within her. But playing with Heather and Stella: that was her choice, her decision.

  She vaguely wondered what Essie was doing right now with Michael and decided she was okay with whatever they were doing. She turned onto her side and wrapped an arm around Heather.

  Maybe this poly thing was going to work out okay.

  Her meditative stillness was broken by the shriek of red fox howls. She flipped back over in a rush, fumbled for her phone, and swiped the alarm off.

  Fuck, she’d forgotten to manually set the alarm. But her auto-alarm code had run and pulled the equivalent of a red alert after checking her geolocation, motion sensing history, and calendar appointments. She needed to be at work.

  Sitting up, she realized how tired she was. Maybe they shouldn’t have gone for that third round in the middle of the night.

  She shook Heather, then leaned over her to grab Stella. “Get up. You guys gotta get out.”

  Stella groaned.