Secret Femme

by Stark, Rhona

  It took a good half hour to get through the story, and Debbie asked lots of questions, mostly about the sexual experiences that I’d now had. She was particularly intrigued about how two women gave each other pleasure. It felt as though, for once, I was the one with the crazy story to share, and it was good to feel as though I was the mature one for once. When I told her about bumping into Teresa at the Guggenheim, she gasped with shock, and then seemed scandalized to hear the cryptic comment about Carmen.

  ‘And she dodged the question when you asked her about it?’

  ‘When I asked her whether she was an old flame, she just said “something like that”, without giving anything away.’

  To be honest, I’d been expecting Debbie to tell me off for the way I’d acted, to tell me that I was behaving like a schoolgirl, that I was living in a fantasy world, or that I just needed to grow up. But she didn’t.

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘it sounds like you need to find out the truth about this Carmen. Especially as Teresa said you were ruining a marriage.’

  ‘You don’t think I should never contact her again?’

  ‘No. Well, not yet. You need to give her a chance.’

  I was amazed by this advice coming from Debbie.

  ‘It sounds like you really care about each other. You’ve given each other a lot of trust.’

  ‘Really?’ Was this the first piece of advice that she’d given me that I was actually going to follow?

  ‘She’s let you into her world. I think you should show her yours. Why don’t invite her to your apartment, and ask her to be honest with you. I think you deserve it, don’t you?’

  ‘Do you think I should get in touch with Travis?’

  Debbie nodded.

  So, I sent two of the most important messages of my life.

  Hi Travis, it’s Cassie. Thanks for our date the other night, I had a good time with you, but I don’t think that we’re quite right for each other. I’m sure you’ll find someone perfect for you soon though. X

  ‘Do you think that was OK?’ I asked, for once thankful for Debbie’s input.

  ‘There’s no good way to tell someone you don’t want to see them again, but at least you were honest with him. What are you going to write to Ms. X ?’

  Ali, thanks for an amazing weekend. I want to see you again, but I need to talk to you first. Sorry to sound so serious. Are you free to come to my place this evening? I don’t want to be distracted by the glamor and excitement of your life, I just want to be myself. Hope you’re having a good day, Cassie.

  ‘That was a much better one.’ Within moments I’d received a reply.

  Of course. What’s your address?

  I sent it.

  I’ll be there in an hour. Can’t wait to see you.

  An hour? Yikes! I got my stuff together and headed home. As I was leaving, Debbie put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘Good luck Cass. I’m sure it’ll all work out for you in the end. You’re a real sweetheart, you know.’

  It was the most I’d liked my best friend in a long time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The reply from Travis came the moment I stepped out of the subway. He must have sent it while I was underground. I winced when I got it, expecting him to be upset or at the very least hurt. I was amazed to see that nothing could be further from the truth.

  No problem. Thanks for a fun time, and good luck finding the right guy. Trav x

  I thought about replying, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just left it, feeling incredibly lucky that Travis was such a good guy.

  As I got close to home, I kept thinking about what Teresa had said to me as I was leaving. That I was ruining someone else’s marriage. I found it unbelievable to think that Ali would lie to me. But, maybe she had. It just seemed like such an adolescent thing to do, and Ali had never seemed adolescent to me. She seemed like one of the most grown-up people I’d ever met.

  I waited in the elevator and opened the front door of my apartment.

  Oh my God. It was like a bomb had gone off. I completely forgot that my house was a total pig-sty. Why was I always rushing around trying to fix stuff? Jeez! It was time for me to sort my life out. I started shoving everything I could into the places it was meant to be, my clothes in the wardrobe, my dirty dishes in the washing machine.

  The first time I visited Ali in Room 901 she had champagne and Egyptian cotton sheets waiting for me. I had a microwave burrito and diet Coke. I barely had time to clean the kitchen before the intercom buzzed. Fuck fuck fuck, she was early.

  ‘Hello Cassie, it’s Ali. Sorry I’m early, my driver managed to find a shortcut.’

  ‘No problem,’ I said, feeling suddenly nervous.What was she going to say about the way I lived? This woman was super, super wealthy. She had a driver. She owned hotel rooms. She had a private jet. I lived in a crummy little apartment barely as big as most people’s closet.

  ‘Just come up. It’s the eighth story.’

  I looked at myself briefly in the mirror. What was I meant to do? I was still in my work outfit, and it wasn’t like I’d spent a lot of time planning it this morning. My makeup was rushed and I felt unprepared. At least this was who I really was. If she didn’t like me like this, then it was definitely not meant to be, right?

  Then, before I knew it, there was a knock at the door. For a moment, I thought about saying ‘Enter,’ in that mysterious way that she had, but I didn’t want her to think I was making fun of her.

  I decided to simply say, ‘It’s open.’ I walked to the door to greet her.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen her not wearing a business suit. She was wearing jeans. Fancy jeans, mind you, but jeans nonetheless. She had a sharp-fitting, black leather jacket over a warm-looking woolen pullover, and I just felt like I wanted to grab her and hold her close to my chest. It was crazy, but I felt like I’d missed her, even though I’d been with her just a day before.

  She leaned in towards me, and was going to give me a kiss, but I pulled back. She looked at me, confused.

  ‘What’s up Cassie? Is everything OK?’

  ‘Everything’s fine, I said, ‘we just need to talk.’

  We walked through the hallway into the main living area of my apartment.

  ‘This is home,’ I said, holding my arms up and pointing towards my stuff.

  ‘It’s nice,’ she said, but she looked stressed out, ‘look Cassie, you can show me around your flat and tell me about your life more in a minute. Let’s just get this chat out of the way - I’m so nervous, I feel really on edge.’

  ‘OK. Take a seat, if you want.’

  She did, and I sat down opposite her.

  ‘So, the thing is, I got fired from my internship yesterday.’

  ‘God damn! I’m so sorry, what happened?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I couldn’t sleep after Sunday - all sorts of things were swirling round my head. I loved the time we spent together, but the way it ended… I don’t know, I just felt so confused. Meeting Teresa like that really threw me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said.

  ‘It’s just… the two of us, it had felt so private and wonderful. Like we were in our own world. And Teresa coming into that world, it made it all feel dirty, seedy, I guess. And it’s nothing to do with our relationship. I mean, can I call it a relationship? Anyway. It just made it all feel weird.’

  ‘I totally understand what you mean,’ she said.

  ‘And then when she said about Carmen… anyway, let’s just say that I don’t think I got to sleep until about three in the morning. That made me seriously late the next day. And that was enough for her to fire me.’

  ‘That’s outrageous.’

  ‘But then, as I was leaving, she said something to me that totally threw me. She accused me of breaking up a marriage.’ As I spoke, I looked down at Ali’s ring finger. There was definitely a band of slightly thinner flesh around that finger where a ring should have been. Did she really take her wedding r
ing off every single team she saw me? I just couldn’t believe it.

  ‘She accused you of what?’ she said.

  ‘Breaking up a marriage. So, are you married? Is Carmen your wife?’

  She looked at me and I saw an emotion I’d never seen on her face before. Sadness. It looked for a moment as though she was going to cry. Just as I thought that I was going to see tears on this stern, powerful woman’s face, she composed himself.

  ‘I’m sorry, Cassie. But I haven’t been totally honest with you.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ‘The thing is, I was married to Carmen. I was. But I’m not anymore. I haven’t seen her for a year. But, I haven’t seen Teresa for more than, I think, five years.

  ‘So you’re divorced?’

  ‘Well.’

  ‘What do you mean, well?’

  ‘I mean, I am divorced. But the papers have only just come through. So I suppose, technically, the first time we saw each other, I was not officially divorced.’

  ‘I see,’ I said.

  ‘But, that first time, nothing happened between us. I mean, there was insane chemistry, sure, but we didn’t even talk! I mean, I bored you with chat about different types of tea - I can be a bit of a nervous babbler sometimes - but you didn’t say a word.’

  ‘I wasn’t bored,’ I said.

  My mind was racing. Was it OK that she hadn’t told me she had been married? If the divorce just hadn’t come through, I mean, surely it didn’t matter, did it? I mean, she hadn’t seen perfect, exotic Carmen in over a year. It would have kind of killed the mood if she’d mentioned it to me during that first meeting, as well, wouldn’t it?

  ‘Well I’m glad you weren’t bored. In fact, I think I could tell that you liked spending time with me.’ She leaned over the table, and took my hand in between hers. It felt warm and good to be touched by her. ‘It was so refreshing, so good to be with someone who seemed to enjoy spending time with me, who was happy to listen to me. Carmen never listened to me.’

  The first time we’d met had been such a weird, exciting time. It had been the start of me growing up, of the biggest change I’d ever been through. I thought back to the person I’d been just a few short weeks ago. I wondered if Ali would have liked that person if she’d gotten to know me.

  ‘I know it’s not exactly romantic, but let me tell you a few things about why I left Carmen. That’s right, it’s me that left her . It’s costing me a fortune. That’s part of the reason the divorce has taken such a long time. The legal battle is a nightmare.

  ‘The thing is, if you’d met me while I was with Carmen, I don’t think you’d have recognized me. She was completely dominant in our relationship. Like, I was nothing when we were together. She always took the lead, she always called the shots. She was so bossy. So rude. Like a bulldozer. I was never happy with it. At first I liked it, of course. It’s so easy to defer to someone who’s more confident than you.’

  I tried to imagine someone who was more confident than Ali. I tried and failed.

  ‘But as time went on,’ she continued, ‘I felt myself, my personality, start to ebb away. I think I sort of forgot who I was, who I could be.’ She squeezed my hand a little. ‘That’s why meeting you was such a breath of fresh air. It was like I could breathe again. At first, I was terrified of course. I felt like an actor, like a faker, trying to be strong, be forceful, be mysterious. But I started to remember myself. You brought me back to life.’

  It was so hard to process all of this information. I couldn’t believe that Ali hadn’t always been this confident, forthright woman I knew. But as I thought about it more, I found a beautiful symmetry in our situation. I’d felt like I was playing a role at the beginning of our relationship, the role of Rayne, the mysterious, powerful yet submissive, silent femme fatale . How amazing, that we both had opened up and grown into ourselves through the relationship with each other.

  ‘You know,’ I said, moving my other hand to the table, and now taking hold of Ali’s in mine. ‘I think that what you need, and maybe what all relationships need, is balance.’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ she said, ‘and I feel like our relationship is moving towards that, don’t you?’

  ‘I do,’ I said. She’d always been in control of things, but things were balancing out. Maybe before we got to total equilibrium though, I should have a little fun with her.

  ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘we’re in my apartment now, so don’t you think I should be in charge, just for a bit? Just to see whether you like it?’

  She looked confused for a moment, then as she began to understand what I was saying, I saw her smile, then look serious, sexy, passionate.

  ‘I do,’ she said.

  ‘I want you to remember the word you told me, that safety word. The word that I’ve never said to you. Lotus. If things get too much for you, I want you to say it.’

  ‘OK,’ she said.

  ‘Um,’ I said, ‘I didn’t say that you could speak, did I?’

  She bit her lip, smiled and shook her head.

  ‘That’s better. Now, I think it’s time for a tour of the apartment, starting with the bedroom, don’t you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Just so you know, the only way you can stay here, as my guest, is for you to obey my every command. Do you understand?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Good. First, before we go anywhere, I want you to take off your clothes. So,’ I took my hands away, and stared at her with all of the intensity I could manage, ‘stand up and strip for me, slave.’

  She looked nervous and stood, as I asked her, in front of me. First, she took her leather jacket off and dropped it down on the table in front of her.

  ‘Not like that! You should fold your clothes in tidy piles when you’re a guest in someone else’s home.’ It felt thrilling to be in control of Ali, finally. Watching her taking her clothes off and folding them in front of me was a real pleasure. I was so careful not to grin or smile, or even worse, laugh, while she was doing it. I kept my face as stern and intense as I could.

  She took her shoes off, then her socks and pants, all the while folding the clothes with care and placing them on the table. I took great pleasure in watching her powerful, muscular legs. I thought about touching them, about licking her skin, biting her, but I held back for now. She stretched up, pulling her pullover off, and I loved to see the flex of her torso, lean and strong. She had a body to die for. She took off her bra too, and when she turned shyly toward me, I finally got a good look at her breasts. She’d kept her bra on in Room 901 earlier, and I couldn’t believe how gorgeous she was. Such perfect, ripe mounds of flesh. I wanted to bury my head between them, to lick and suck her, to stroke her and make her nipples erect.

  Then my attention turned to her crotch. She was wearing black satin panties.

  ‘Off with those, too,’ I said, feeling lucky that I’d thought to close the blinds before she’d come round. ‘Actually,’ I said just as she was starting to move her hands to the top of her underwear, ‘I’ll do that.’ I stood up, and walked slowly over to Ali. It was such a thrill, to be in control of this powerful woman.

  I reached out, and carefully took hold of the fabric of her underwear. I pulled it toward me as far out as I could, and let the elastic snap back. She flinched. Then, I took hold of the fabric again and, as slowly as I could, I peeled the tight-fitting underwear down. First, I saw the mound of her pubis, soft and smooth, then, her sweet little lips as I pulled the underwear all the way down.

  ‘That’s good,’ I said, ‘now, let me show you to the bed.’

  I walked ahead of my slave, and moved into the bedroom. It was dark in here until I switched on the lamp next to the bed.

  ‘Now, the sheets aren’t Egyptian cotton, in fact, I think they’re from Walmart. But it’s all you deserve, and it’s all you’re going to get. Do you like the bedroom?’

  Ali nodded.

  ‘That’s good. Now, why don’t you lie down. I need to secure you to t
he bedframe.’

  She moved in front of me, and sat down on the edge of the bed. It was amazing to watch her body move, the muscles moving together beneath the skin. I thought about how good it would feel to be held by her. It was difficult not to just throw myself onto her and grab hold of her body.

  She lay back and spread herself out on the bed. I had to think fast, because of course, I didn’t have any special leather straps to bind her with. I guess I was going to have to improvise. First, I decided to take some of my clothes off, to warm up the mood. I unzipped my jeans and slunk my way out of them. Ali’s eyes were glued to me as I pulled my sweatshirt over my head.

  A few months ago, I’d bought a special set of underwear, a red, lacy thong and matching bra from a fancy shop in Manhattan. I decided that perhaps I should change into that outfit now. Maybe it would make me feel even more empowered and confident. I walked to my wardrobe, and turned away, so that Ali could see my back.

  I unhooked my bra behind my back, and let it drop to the floor. Then, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my underwear, and pulled them down. I could feel her looking at my ass, I knew she was hungry for me. It felt amazing to be in control like this. I put on my sexy underwear, bending over as I pulled my thong up.

  ‘I hope you’re not objectifying me, right now, my little plaything,’ I said. I turned back to her. I got some of my larger items of clothing and walked back to her, then, I carefully, as tightly as I could, bound her using whatever t-shirts or skirt I could to the corners of the bed. ‘These rudimentary restraints are all that you deserve,’ I said.

  I kept stealing glances at her breasts as I bound each of her limbs to the frame. Then, when she was firmly bound in place, I took my sleep mask, and placed it over her eyes.

  I leaned in closely to her ear, so that she could feel my breath on her face, then I said, ‘That’s better.’ Then I touched her chest, moving my hand lightly over her skin, tracing a path down to her crotch. As I moved closer to her groin, she began to pant. Just as I was about to touch her, I pulled away.

  ‘You seem to be enjoying yourself so far. Let’s see how a little pain brings out the pleasure in you.’