by Jack Quaiz
Aside from an heightened interest in security and a sudden increase in trips to the gun club, the only lasting effect was an inability to feel submissive. Even when she and Cole would engage in their sexy D/S games, the lovely feeling that she had once craved was absent. It was as if she wanted to deny the existence of that part of her personality.
Figuring that nature would take its course, Cole simply waited. He believed that someone as naturally submissive as Monica would have to return to her normal personality eventually and he was a patient man. He was also very much in love and knew that he would accept whatever form of sexuality she happened to display.
Even without the spark of dominance and submission, their sex life was still an active one. They both had healthy libidos and living together gave them plenty of opportunities to enjoy each other. Cole allowed her to take the initiative and determine when they would run for the big bed and dive under the covers together. He rather enjoyed the chance to explore this new area of her sexuality. She was comforted by the knowledge that he still loved her even when she was unable be submissive.
Snuggling in bed on the first rainy night of the Northwest Autumn, he felt her warm, dry skin and inhaled her healthy, slightly perfumed scent. He decided to ask her how she was feeling about her submissiveness. Holding her spoon fashion with his right arm wrapping around beneath her narrow waist he asked quietly, “Have you had any kinky feelings lately?”
“It’s hard to describe, lover. I can tell that my subby feelings are still there, but when they try to surface, I just push them back down and wait for them to go away,” her voice contained a subtle tension that revealed the magnitude of the problem.
He snuggled closer, cupping her breast tighter. “That’s sad. Does it bother you very much?
“Yeah... it does, but I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe it will take a long time. I’d love to be my old subby self again. I’m just too scared of it. I can’t seem to relax and let it come back.”
“According to the Master’s Handbook, I’m supposed to give you a good spanking, then fuck you in the ass, but -- being the wimpy Master that I am -- I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.” They both chuckled at the thought, knowing that he would never attempt to force her into submission.
“I suppose you could see a therapist, but I can’t imagine what they’d say when you tell them you want your submissiveness back,” he smiled. “Maybe you should start all over like you were just discovering the scene for the first time.”
“Hmmm... I think you’re onto something there,” she said as she reached back to grab his cock beneath the covers.
As he enjoyed her gentle stimulation he thought out loud. “Maybe it’s time for us to attend some scene events. One of their primary functions is to make kinky people feel better about their sexuality. Sounds like just the sort of thing you could use right now.”
She rolled over and began to engage in one of her favorite activities. Taking her lover’s manly organ into her mouth, she licked, kissed and sucked in all the ways that she knew would drive him completely crazy.
“Slow down, my little felatrix. I’m still thinking about scene events. Why don’t we go to a meeting of our local kinky group this Thursday? The announcement on the net said they were having a caning demonstration. Hey, that’s enough!”
Monica pushed him down on the bed and mounted his rock hard shaft. He normally did not like positions that cast him in the submissive role, but seeing her delicate bouncing breasts so close to his face overcame his reluctance. They both had a very adequate climax and went to sleep feeling satisfied. During the night they slid their bodies together several times for more semi-conscious cuddling and closeness.
On Thursday, they both arrived home around five thirty and ate a quick dinner. By the time they made the drive into downtown Seattle, the traffic was light. Cole watched her for signs of nervousness, but she seemed calm. He had explained to her that the meetings were designed to be strictly informative and non-threatening.
She was still a bit worried that she might meet someone she knew from work. He explained to her that there was no need to worry. If you met someone you knew, they had as least as much to worry about as you did. They were not going to cause you any trouble because you could do the same to them. He told her that this was a variation on the old cold war strategy of mutually assured destruction and it was a foolproof safety system.
Many people avoided the meetings because they were afraid that they would find themselves in a room full of dangerous perverts. Although Monica had heard several benign descriptions of the meetings, she was still a bit worried. She was also nervous because the meeting site in the Capitol Hill district was the closest she had gotten to the place where she was attacked in over a month. They finally found a place to park in a residential area about four blocks from the meeting hall. Monica stayed close to Cole as they walked along the dark wet street.
The group met in a building that contained several public meeting halls which could be rented for a small fee. In a nearby room, another group appeared to be holding a church related conference. Monica grinned as she wondered if they knew what kind of perverts were gathering next door.
The room looked like it had once been a classroom. There were about fifty plastic chairs in neat rows and some well-worn folding tables at the front. Just inside the door a pleasant looking redhead in a tight black dress collected a few dollars from each person and handed out a small newsletter containing event announcements, articles and personal ads. Everyone was given a stick-on nametag and people wrote whatever name they preferred to use with a blue marking pen.
They sat down in the back row and she tried not to stare at the twenty or thirty people who were already there. Like Cole and Monica, most of them looked like they had just come from work. There were a number of men in suits and sport coats, some with pagers or cell phones on their belts. There were a few sexy women that drew most of Monica’s attention. She wondered if they were pro-Dommes.
The room gradually filled with exceedingly normal looking people, about half male, half female. Monica studied them carefully, while trying not to be too obvious. Less than ten percent showed any overt signs of kinkiness. She noticed several leather jackets and a few people who obviously had a piercing fetish. Monica had never before seen someone with a piercing through the bridge of their nose. She asked herself, “Wouldn’t those little silver balls be visually distracting?”
Before she had time to inspect everyone in the group, a friendly fellow stood at the front of the room and called the meeting to order. It was obvious that he was enjoying himself, leading the group, and he began to read a series of announcements.
“There will be a meeting of the kinky writer’s group at Mistress Selena’s house at seven PM next Tuesday.”
“The women’s welcoming committee meets every Wednesday at The Edge Cafe. All women who are interested in learning more about the scene are welcome. See Joan if you have any questions. Stand up so we can see you Joan.” One of the more attractive women, with very long black hair stood in the front row and waved at the group. Monica noticed that she had a nice body and was wearing little earrings that looked like floggers.
“Please notice Joan’s column in this month’s newsletter about negotiating a scene. Extra copies of the newsletter may be purchased for three dollars if you need another one for a friend.”
When the club president was finished with the announcements, the next item of business was an opportunity for everyone to give an introduction. Each person who wanted to participate was allowed to stand up, give their name and say a few words about their kinky preferences or experiences. The technique had been copied from a successful group in Chicago and it was intended to make the members feel better about their particular fetish or sexual preference.
A harmless looking fellow in a rumpled sport coat stood up first, “Hi, my name is John, I’ve been in the scene six months and I’m a bottom.”
“Hello everyone, I’
m Mistress Kitty, I’m a Top and I’ve been a member of this organization since it was first founded two years ago and I guess you all know me pretty well by now.”
“Hi, I’m Mark and this is my wife Sandy. This is our second meeting and we’re just exploring. We think she’s a Top and I’m a bottom.”
“My name is Leslie, I like to be spanked.”
“Hi, my name is Frank, I’m an obsessive-compulsive cunnilinguist.”
The introductions went around the room in this fashion until a man in this twenties stood up and said, “Hi, My name is Joe and I’m an alcoholic.” The room burst into laughter as they all suddenly recognized the parallel with AA meetings. Cole was not really surprised, since the similarities had been obvious to him for a long time. People who struggled with the fact that their form of sexuality was not accepted by society needed a support group.
When it was their turn to introduce themselves, Cole politely passed and let the next person speak. The meeting had been going for nearly an hour when the announcements and introductions were finally finished. A presentation on caning was the scheduled highlight of the meeting. Some of the chairs were pushed back to make more room at the front and a quilt was placed on one of the long folding tables. The speaker was a fellow named Conrad who resembled a slightly disheveled elf, with a long beard and a flowing lavender satin shirt. His enthusiasm for SM play was highly infectious. As he discussed the various aspects of playing with canes, the audience loosened up further and joked easily with him.
When all of the technical and ethical topics had been exhausted, a pre-chosen volunteer came forward. She was a shapely woman in her thirties who was well known as a “heavy bottom”. That is, she played the bottom role and liked to be hit hard. Clad in bra and thong, she climbed onto the now padded tabletop and assumed a face down posture to present her nicely curved buttocks as a target for the cane.
Conrad continued to talk as he began gently caning the woman with light tapping strokes. Most of the audience stared intently at the unfolding tableau, wondering how far the caning would go. Many of them had never seen anything of this type before and their eyes betrayed the intense thoughts that were flashing through their aroused minds. The warm up lasted for more than twenty minutes.
The cane gradually tapped harder, until there was a pause, then the cane was raised higher and descended with a loud swish of air to land with an audible impact on the already pink bottom of the sexy volunteer. She let out a happy sounding “Ahhhh”, much to the relief of those who thought briefly that something had gone wrong.
Monica started to grin as she realized that the volunteer was enjoying herself just like she had on several occasions.
Cole had seen it all before. In fact, he had played with the woman himself. He knew she could take a lot more. Not wanting to seem bored, he casually looked around the room to see how many faces he could recognize. Sitting in the very back of the room, where she had escaped Monica’s notice, was her friend Jennifer. She didn’t realize that he was looking at her. He studied her face for several minutes as she watched the caning and he observed the telltale vague stare that indicated she was in some kind of submissive headspace. Before anyone could notice that he wasn’t watching the presentation, he turned around again to see how things were developing on the table.
By this time the caning had progressed to very hard strokes with a suitably long interval in between. Conrad was still lecturing happily about the different kind of strokes and the audience was unable to look away. Cole was starting to be impressed. The strokes were slightly harder than what he was usually willing to do to his own playmates. The volunteer however, was in endorphin heaven. She was moaning in a very sexy manner with each stroke, then breathing in short puffs when each impulse of pain arrived at the pleasure centers of her brain. Cole vowed that he would play harder with her if they ever connected again.
Eventually, the demonstration ended, and the group stood up to leave or chat with each other. Cole caught Monica’s attention and pointed at Jennifer. Monica was just about ready to call out to Jennifer when he shook his head slightly to signal that this was not a good idea. Perhaps she did not want her name called out in front of all these people. Instead, they hurried out and caught up with her as she went down the corridor to the main doors.
“Hey beautiful!” Monica called out.
Jennifer turned and her eyes widened when she realized that she had been spotted by her best friend. “Hi guys. I didn’t know you two were in there,” she lied.
Monica responded warmly, “We didn’t see you either. It’s still early, let’s go to that place with the great chocolate desserts and chat for a while. You know, Dilettante Chocolates, It’s just down the street.”
Jennifer could hardly refuse, and they all walked several blocks to a small restaurant that was famous for its chocolate decadence cake and mocha drinks. When they had ordered, Monica politely questioned Jennifer about her attendance at the meeting while Cole looked around at the other diners and out the window at the damp Seattle night. “So, Jenny, is this the first meeting you’ve been to?” she asked.
“No, I’ve been to four or five,” she said as she looked down at the table. “I didn’t want to tell anyone.”
“You naughty girl! You know you can tell me anything.”
“Sorry I didn’t mention it. So, this was your first meeting, right? What did you think of it?”
“It was a good experience for me. I liked seeing so many other people around me who are just as perverted as I am. You sorta feel better about yourself. But I got the feeling that a lot of them are looking for partners.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s why I’m there. You’ve found a great guy for yourself and it reminds me what I’m missing. I’m pretty tired of being single, but you know what problems I’ve had with men. They just don’t seem to understand what I need. I was hoping that I could find someone in the club, but so far no luck.”
Monica looked thoughtful for a moment, then started to speak slowly, “Jenny, maybe you could play with us. Ever since I got attacked last month, something has been missing from our chemistry. I guess I just can’t submit right now. In fact, I’ve been feeling pretty dominant.”
“Play with you two? Do you think you’d both be willing to dominate me? That sounds pretty hot,” she dropped her eyes again, “but I don’t think I’d be a very good player.”
They both looked over at Cole, who had been quietly observing the conversation. “I think we could work something out,” he said without sounding very enthusiastic. He was not strongly attracted to Jennifer because of her lack of womanly curves or perhaps it was just the way she dressed to hide her small body. Still, it might still be fun to engage in psychological play. He knew that Monica found her attractive and he was willing to go along.
“Jenny, you have email, don’t you?” he asked.
“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”
“Well, why don’t you write up your favorite kinky fantasy and send it to Monica? We’ll go over it and see what we can translate into reality for you.”
Her beautiful eyes widened and she spoke rapidly, “That sounds really great. I hope it works OK. I’ll send you my idea in the next few days. This is getting really exciting already. I’m so naughty!” Her small mouth widened into a big grin as she looked back and forth between her two friends.
“One more thing,” he said. “If we play sexually, which is what you seem to be needing, you must have some tests first. I can tell you the best place to go for that, but it will still take almost a week to get all the results back.”
“I can do that. Let me write down the information.” She pulled a pen and small notebook from her purse. The clinic address and phone number were recorded quickly in her small, precise printing.
The two women chatted as they walked Jennifer back to her car, which was not far from theirs. They discussed how happy Monica was in her new relationship and job. They also discussed the problem she was having accepting her own natural subm
issiveness since the attack. Arriving at the car, the two women hugged there on the sidewalk, then Jennifer came over to Cole and offered him a hug too. He happily accepted and gave her a friendly pat on her small bottom to propel her toward the car.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
For the next few days, Cole and Monica engaged in animated conversations about the local SM scene and about their upcoming date with Jennifer. Monica commented on how scene people treated each other versus the way they dealt with outsiders. Among themselves, the scene folks easily discussed the most intimate and secretive things. When around someone whose preferences are not known or who is known to be sexually conservative, they maintain a strict silence about their kinky activities. This could lead to a feeling of having a dual personality, but for most people, it was the best alternative.
In her small apartment on the 14th floor of a fashionable downtown residence building, Jennifer thought hard about what she wanted to get from her adventure with Cole and Monica. She knew that she trusted Monica completely and the thought of submitting to her sexy girlfriend was very exciting. She had been envious of Monica since they first met, initially because of Monica’s curvy body and later because of her relationship with Cole. There was also an element of competition. She wanted to show that she could be as submissive as the women whose stories she had read on the internet and in the numerous erotic books that waited under her bed like old playmates.