CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They drove downtown again the next day, recovered her car and some
more boxes from her office, then drove to the police department's
downtown precinct. Saturday afternoons didn't seem like a busy time
for the Seattle police and the large building seemed half empty. They
spent two hours filling out forms and waiting on hard plastic chairs
before they were given any advice. The obviously overworked detective
didn't feel that there was much point in taking any further steps.
Hundreds of men would match the description that Cole and Monica had
given. The detective called the building security office and it
turned out that the security cameras were inoperative that week, so
there would be no pictures of the assailant.
Returning to the house in her own car, Monica put the remains of her
ruined suit in the trash and decided to get on with her life. Moving
the last of her possessions into the house she now shared with Cole
helped to occupy her thoughts.
She was a little paranoid for the next few days, but by the time she
reported for work at her new job, she appeared, at least on the
surface, to have recovered completely. The job turned out to be
everything she hoped for. The concentration that was required to
bring herself up to speed helped her put the frightening episode
almost entirely behind her.
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
would 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 sportcoats, 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 cunnilingist."
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 decended 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 it's 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 submissiveness 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.
