Finding Acceptance in His Arms

by Thomas Briar

  Floating high on a cloud of bliss and no longer possessing the energy to move, she lay there listening to the buzzing vibrator, having once again temporarily quenched her desperate sexual wantonness.

  But unfortunately, she’d found what goes up must always come back down.

  And as she came back to the reality of her situation, the thought of entering the porn industry became frightening to her. She knew if she ever took that path her career in New York would be over. None of her peers would want anything else to do with her. She promised herself she would not permit any more lapses on the subject. Her future lay in New York, not in Atlanta, and certainly not in the porn industry.

  Later in the afternoon she described her day in detail to Jennifer, including her experience with the largest plug. Proud of her accomplishment, she was not able to hide her enthusiasm at having achieved the amazing feat.

  “So it really fit?” Jennifer sat across from Kara at the kitchen table sipping wine. She shook her head, smiling. “You have one very unique asshole, girl. But then, you could always take whatever us girls wanted to shove up it.”

  “Yeah, I’m just lucky like that.” Kara took a sip of wine while trying her best to stave off an embarrassing memory involving their old friends.

  Jennifer took another sip of wine before saying, “Speaking of which, I ran into Mercedes today. She asked about you. I wish your situation didn’t prevent me from telling her and the old gang that you’re back in town. They would like to see you.”

  “You promised, Jennifer.” She knew better than to show the least inclination of wanting to see their old friends because that road would only lead her into emotional turmoil.

  “Don’t worry.” Jennifer raised her hands in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t tell her you were here. I only said I’d heard from you and that you were doing well, though really busy with work. She said to tell you hello.”

  “Whatever.” Kara studied the fire engine red nail polish on her freshly manicured nails (another accomplishment of the day). The color would match the red sundress she had picked out for tonight perfectly.

  “I don’t get why you don’t want to see them anymore,” Jennifer prompted. “They really miss you.”

  “I bet they do.” She continued to feign disinterest.

  Jennifer furrowed her brow, taking another sip of wine. “I also don’t understand you thinking they always disrespected you in the past. I was there with you. Remember? I don’t recall seeing anything of the nature ever happening except for that one time.”

  “Let it go, Jennifer.” Kara winced. “If you hadn’t noticed, things have changed for me since I reinvented myself. I’m never going back to being that insecure little lesbian ever again. Evan doesn’t make fun of any unnatural thing that turns me on. I’ve even told him about liking you pissing on me.”

  “Why are you bringing him and that up?”

  “No reason at all, except to let you know he always treats me with respect. Not like Mercedes and the rest of those girls always putting me down so they could feel better about themselves.”

  “Hey now, every one of them stopped and apologized for disrespecting you that one time. They meant no real harm, only thought it was a continuation of the game.”

  Kara stared Jennifer straight in the eyes. “They stopped and apologized only because we threatened to whip their sorry asses if they didn’t. Anyone would have known the game was over after I came. They deliberately kept going for their own petty gratification.”

  Jennifer threw up her hands. “Why can’t you let that night go? I’m telling you, they just didn’t know any better.”

  “Maybe.” She refused to relive that night again. One time had been more than enough.

  “I promise you that they didn’t mean anything by it!”

  “You know something?” Kara drew her feet up into her chair to examine her freshly painted toenails. “On the night I first met Evan, he promised me that he would never make fun of me for anything I like to do sexually. He proved it to me last night when he didn’t make any judgments about me wearing my anal plug. The girls would have made a very big deal about it. Like them not wanting to wear one somehow makes them better than me.”

  “Okay, Kara, you don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to.” Jennifer pouted. “I won’t bring up the subject of getting back together with them ever again. I’m very sorry for taking you back down that road.”

  “Thank you!” She swilled the rest of her wine. “Now I have to go get ready for my date with Evan.”

  An hour later, Kara and Jennifer traded a tentative hug before she stepped out the door to thread her left hand inside the crook of Evan’s right arm.

  Chapter Five

  “So what’s going on with you tonight? You don’t seem yourself.”

  Kara shrugged at Evan from across the same table where they’d eaten hot dogs the evening before. This time he’d bought them grilled cheese sandwiches. She’d barely touched hers.

  “Come on, Kara.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin before placing an elbow on the table to rest his chin on the palm of his hand. “Tell me what’s wrong. I don’t like this emotional disconnect between us. It seems weird to me after feeling so close to you last night.”

  After glancing around at the other patrons of the sidewalk café, she sighed. “Jennifer and I had a disagreement this afternoon. It was about something that happened in the past with our old clique of girlfriends.”

  “And…”

  “Now I’m ashamed of how I let them treat me back then.” She looked down at her lap, biding for time, not wanting to reveal how little self-respect she used to possess.

  “Go on,” he gently prodded.

  She toyed with the napkin she’d laid over her grilled cheese to hide her lack of appetite. “Back in the old days on Wednesday nights Jennifer, I, and three other girls used to all get together for what we’d aptly dubbed Sexual Wednesday Night. In all honesty, it was just an excuse to drink, gossip, and make fun of men before we all got down and dirty together.

  “Anyway, on this one particular Wednesday night the subject turned to the telling of sexual fantasies. One of the girls suggested we turn it into a game. The rules were simple—the most exciting fantasy of the evening would be reenacted to the best of our collective abilities for the person relating it. Of course, all the other girls’ fantasies were normal and pretty boring. You know the kind, two women inveigle a third into a ménage trio, sex with a stranger. I’ve forgotten what all they were. Anyway, when it came my turn to tell, I related a dream I’d had about being tied up and made to eat all these different women’s pussies while they called me dirty names. Afterward, when we voted and my fantasy won, I was quickly tied up and made to lie on the floor like in my dream.”

  Kara paused to glance up at Evan. His gaze was glued to her face. She lowered her head and hid her face behind her hands.

  “I can’t for the life of me fathom why I thought it was a good idea to reveal a real fantasy. I remember loving the helplessness of being tied up for real and given orders as they all took turns grinding their pussies on my face. It was really hot. But afterward, once I’d gotten them all off and Jennifer got me off, they didn’t want to stop treating me like I was their bitch. Jennifer and I had to threaten to whip their asses to make them stop. Why couldn’t they have just stopped on their own? Anyone in their right mind would have realized the game came to a conclusion as soon as I reached orgasm.”

  When Evan made no immediate reply, she peeped through her fingers to see his expression had become extremely dark. She took this as a sign to continue her narrative.

  “The disagreement between Jennifer and I stems from her trying to convince me to get back together with them because she thinks the girls meant nothing by it. But I know differently. Another thing, out of all of them, I am the only one with an anal fetish. They’ve always slyly put me down for it. Sometimes, I hate myself for being turned on by all that I am and really wish I had normal sexual de
sires so I wouldn’t be so different from everyone else.”

  “Don’t ever wish that.” Evan shook his head. “People with normal sexual desires will never know the tremendous heights of experiencing a vulnerable orgasm. And the reason for this is they won’t ever let anyone have that much control over them. Of course, they’ll tout themselves as being kinky to prospective sex partners but then insist on having a safe word and several code words to make sure the power never really leaves their hands. The old guard BDSMers call it ‘topping from the bottom’ and it’s all the rage these days.”

  He gave up a wan smile before continuing, “So don’t be generic like them. Stay true to yourself to get exactly what you want out of your sex life. Besides, they probably only treated you badly because they were jealous of you having the courage to embrace who you are as a sexually mature woman. I’ve found most people are afflicted by that kind of jealousy.”

  “Until they treated me like that, I thought they really were my friends.”

  “I completely understand what you’re saying.” Evan nodded. “After they revealed their true selves you felt deceived by them. And nothing is worse than being deceived by someone who you believe is your friend.”

  “Yes.” She nodded back. “That’s the worst feeling ever. And now that you’ve mentioned it, I think you might be right in thinking that I was too sexually mature for them. They certainly didn’t understand my wanting to be humiliated in sexual situations or my anal fetish.”

  “Then do yourself a favor and don’t get back together with them, no matter how much Jennifer tries to get you to. If they didn’t accept you as you were back then they certainly won’t accept you now. Not everyone has the ability to accept sexual anomalies in people. And those kinds of self-righteous individuals usually wax worse in their prejudices as they get older.”

  “Thank you for listening and understanding.”

  Evan shrugged, and then presented her with a charming smile. “Don’t give it another thought. I think you just needed someone to see it from your perspective. Jennifer can’t see it like you do because it didn’t happen to her. She still stood up with you against them though. She’s obviously a good friend, so don’t judge her too harshly. She just doesn’t understand where you’re coming from.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now do yourself another favor. Call Jennifer right now and tell her exactly what you just told me. I’ve found her to be a very intelligent woman. Maybe this time she’ll understand where you’re coming from after you explain it from your prospective. Then, once you get your emotional equilibrium back—because misunderstandings between best friends can affect such things—we can get back to our date.”

  Jennifer picked up on the third ring.

  “I’m sorry,” Kara blurted into the phone.

  “I’m sorry too,” Jennifer’s voice cracked.

  And from there, what should have been only a five-minute conversation turned into fifteen minutes. Never once did Evan appear impatient or bored with having to sit idly by for them to get it all talked out.

  The moment Kara ended the call she beamed her gratitude onto him. “Thank you again for being a true friend to me.”

  “Feel better now?”

  “Yes. We’re finally on the same page about the incident, although I don’t think she sees it entirely from my perspective. She thinks the amount of alcohol we all drank is mostly to blame. I also think she really misses Sexual Wednesday Nights. After the incident, I refused to participate any longer.”

  Evan’s countenance brightened. He chuckled. “Well, I can’t really blame her. Because who wouldn't miss attending a weekly orgy once they dipped their tongues in that kind of debauchery? I, for one, would not, could not, go back to normal Wednesday night after experiencing such a thing. Now I have two questions I need answered. Where exactly do these girls congregate? And do I bring my own bottle or is the liquor provided free of charge? You and I will definitely not be going out tomorrow night after all.”

  “Ha! They’d eat you alive, and definitely not in a good way. They believe if women ruled the world then peace would reign supreme, poverty would no longer exist, and everyone would receive the same opportunities in life.”

  Evan raised his eyebrows, cleared his throat, then abruptly straightened up in his chair. “I want to take you somewhere and introduce you to something you might appreciate.”

  “Okay. So where are we going and what exactly do you want to introduce me to?”

  Excitement danced in his eyes. “It’s a surprise so you’ll have to wait and see. All you need to know right now is there’s absolutely no danger for you in where we’re going. No one will touch you in a sexual manner or accost you in any way. And if all goes well, then you and I will go out again tomorrow night. I’m finding I really enjoy spending time with you.”

  “Okay.”

  A short cab ride later to an ordinary apartment building and up three floors in an elevator, Kara let Evan escort her down a hallway to knock on an apartment door numbered 310. She held onto his hand, impatient to see whatever he was going to show her.

  After a short pause the door opened. A young nude woman of Asian and African descent, who wore only a rhinestone slave collar, greeted them with a deep bow. “Hello Mr. Lars and esteemed other person. Please do come in. You are both honored guests here.”

  Kara did a double-take, almost not believing the sight before her eyes.

  She looked to Evan for emotional support. He didn’t acknowledge the slave woman in any way, shape, or form as he stepped over the threshold, physically pulling Kara along behind him. She followed his example by tearing her gaze away from the slave to hold her head up high as if she were also oblivious to the injustice of human servitude.

  She let herself be led past a kitchenette of stainless steel appliances into the living room. She glanced about in hopes of restoring faith in that she hadn’t stepped into some alternative dimension. But like the real-life slave, this room resembled something out of an erotic novel or movie.

  Rich hardwood floors complemented the crimson-colored walls. In the center of the room an oriental rug acted as a focal point underneath a crystal chandelier. Erotic sculptures sat on the end tables bordering the antique leather sofa, loveseat, and matching armchair. Explicit erotic paintings of women in submissive poses lined the walls. A mini-bar rested against the back wall next to a short hallway that she presumed must lead to a dungeon playroom. Because every BDSM freak had a playroom, didn’t they?

  Why yes, she was absolutely certain they did.

  The slave hurried around in front of them to graciously indicate the sofa. “Would you like to have a seat and a drink while Master finishes his shower, Mr. Lars?”

  “Yes, I’ll have a seat but please leave off the drink for the time being.” He released Kara’s hand to continue forward into the room and sit down in the middle of the sofa.

  With Evan releasing her hand, a subtle disconnection took place between them. She didn’t like this loss of security and thought it paramount to reestablish the connection. She made it as far as the sofa when the slave grabbed her by the wrist and shook her head the moment she attempted to sit down.

  “Excuse me?” She looked the slave in the face and then turned her eyes onto the hand grasping her wrist.

  The slave whispered, “Even esteemed other persons sit on the floor here. Only the Masters are allowed to sit on the furniture. It is the natural order of the hierarchy and you must abide or I will have to ask you to wait in the hall until Mr. Lars concludes his business with Master.”

  Shocked by the implications behind the woman’s words, Kara immediately looked to Evan for him to negate the natural order of the hierarchy for her. He only stared back from the sofa, obviously waiting to see what she was going to do.

  “I will sit on the floor,” she conceded. The turmoil of emotions she was experiencing threatened to overwhelm her. She tried her best to believe this was only a roleplaying game and there would be no long-term
psychological consequences for her.

  “With your permission, Mr. Lars?” The slave’s eyes darted toward a fluffy red pillow resting against the sofa’s arm.

  “By all means give her a pillow to sit on,” Evan allowed. “She’s a delicate girl. She’s also very important to me. So treat her with the utmost respect.”

  “I will, most definitely, Mr. Lars.” The slave bowed low.

  Kara’s face grew hot from Evan interceding on her behalf, and surprisingly, the emotional connection they’d formerly shared returned. At once she understood the reason behind him bringing her here and she couldn’t help admiring his cleverness in manipulating her into having to rely on him.

  The slave retrieved the pillow to place it on the floor beside Evan’s left foot. She then knelt down to assist Kara in sitting with her legs folded partial underneath her body in a most ladylike fashion, even going so far as to fold Kara’s hands together on her lap.

  This position allowed Kara to lean sideways against the front of the couch where Evan’s face stayed in her peripheral vision. In this strange and foreboding atmosphere she believed it imperative that she didn’t lose sight of his physical presence for a second.

  The slave busied herself with smoothing out the wrinkles in the short dress along Kara’s thighs. Once finished, the slave leaned back and regarded her handiwork. “Now you are presentable for meeting Master.”

  “Thank you for helping me,” Kara whispered back.

  “You are most welcome, esteemed other person.” The slave stood up and walked over to the entrance of the hallway where she knelt on the floor. She held her chin up, staring straight ahead, knees spread far apart in exposing her shaven nether region, shoulders back so her breasts were prominently displayed along with her hands resting on her thighs, palms upward. She remained still as a stone in this position, a statue of patient tranquility.

  Kara couldn’t help but admire the woman for the self-assurance she displayed in exposing her complete nakedness. Never for a moment did the woman display the least embarrassment at what should have been shameful to her.