Limits

A few days after the split, Karen was, once again, having a toilet break when she heard the door open. A group of women from her section entered. Immediately the smell of cigarette smoke filled the restroom.

"So, did'ya catch that program on the telly last night? The one about them trannies?"

"Trannies? What, like my Rob's van?"

"No, you ha'p'orth, transsexuals. You know, men what dress up as women, like. Disgusting, that's what I call it."

"My Sharon, over at the biscuit factory, she had to work with one. He was even allowed to come to work in a dress. There was all sorts of fuss when he wanted to use the ladies."

"I should fucking think so. What a fucking liberty. Sick, that's what I call it, sick."

"Yeah, it's bad enough having that Mel work with us."

"Mel? What's wrong with Mel?"

"She's a lezzie, isn't she? That's not natural either. It's all very well them having gay rights but what about our rights? I mean, what if she fancies me or summat?

At this point Karen's ears pricked up. An anger that had been simmering within her since the weekend raised its head.

"It's the kiddies I worry about. I mean, you don't ever know, do you? There was a story in the paper just the other day...."

As the restroom bigot recounted the sleaze from the gutter press, Karen finished off her business, pulled up her panties, yes, she did wear them nowadays, and smoothed down her skirt. Then, gathering up a courage she never knew she had, she stepped out of the booth and went over to the sinks. She rinsed off her hands and used the hand dryer before facing the group of women.

"May I remind you all that smoking in the restrooms is not only against company policy but also against the law? Furthermore as none of you seem to be in any way in need of a comfort break, I suggest that you might want to return to your desks. I will be holding a section meeting in five minutes and I think you'll find it is important that you attend." Karen controlled her anger, keeping her voice as level as possible.

"Oh, yeah, and who's going to make us?" the bigot replied.

"Well, as your section supervisor I guess that I am." Karen's blood was boiling now. "Smoking in the restrooms is a flagrant breach of office regulations. As such shall we consider this your first formal verbal warning about this misuse of office facilities? Furthermore any repeat of these offences will lead to a written warning and eventual dismissal. If you want to keep your job then I suggest you follow the rules. Or have you forgotten there's a recession on?"

"You can't do that, I'm in the union," the bigot, as ever the spokeswoman, retorted.

"The rules as I have stated them were negotiated with the full cooperation of the union," Karen replied. "In fact I believe the union were instrumental in working towards a smoke-free office even before the recent change in the law. And as for your views on gay, lesbian and transgender staff members, I think you'll find that the union has a pretty strong position on that as well. Don't forget, section meeting in five minutes."

Fired up with anger, Karen marched out of the restrooms with her head held high. It was a bit like riding a bike, getting started was the hard part. Now that she was up and running, she could use her anger to finally assert herself. The important thing was not to wobble, to use it, not to lose it. Sure, she had only left herself five minutes to bone up on the rules but, really, she had reached the limit of what she could take. She had been pushed from pillar to post and, quite frankly, if she could stand up to Jude, then there was no one here who should give her any qualms. She reached for the staff handbook and found the relevant pages.

"Right, ladies," Karen began once she had gathered her staff around her, "for far too long this section has been the laughing stock of the office and I, for one, have had enough. With immediate effect there are going to be one or two changes around here. For a start there has been far too much laxity regarding the rules about smoking breaks. May I remind you that, according to the rules agreed with the union," here Karen picked up the staff handbook and turned to the first marked page, "and I'm quoting from paragraph seventy three if anyone is interested, all staff taking smoking breaks must ensure that such breaks are clearly marked on their flexi-time sheets, signing out and back in again for each and every one? Starting from today, I shall be making random spot checks of all your flexi-sheets to ensure that this is being carried out. Furthermore smoking breaks must, and I repeat, must, be held in the designated smoking area which is the thing that looks a bit like  a bus shelter over on the other side of the car park. Use of the restrooms is not permitted under any circumstances. I think you'll find," again she consulted the manual, "paragraph seventy six covers this one.

"Furthermore, may I remind you that any breaches of these rules will lead, as per the regulations," again she consulted the staff handbook, "to a formal verbal warning in the first instance, followed by a written warning, followed by dismissal. H.R. are to be informed at each stage. You are, of course, perfectly entitled to have union representation at any stage in this process but I would remind you that the union were fully involved in making these rules and were particularly active in the smoke-free office campaign. Paragraph two thirty seven is the relevant one here.

"Are there any questions?" she asked her shell-shocked staff. "No? Well that brings me to my second point. We're the joke section, the layabouts, the under achievers. Do you think management hasn't noticed? It's tough out there and, if you want to find out just how tough, then carry on the way we're going and we'll all be out of the door looking for jobs that simply don't exist. They'll have us closed down faster than you can say 'outsourced to India'. All of us, and I do mean all of us, need to buck our ideas up before it's too late.

"And, whilst I have your attention, I do have one last point," here Karen looked directly at the restroom bigot, "recently there have been a number of incidents of inappropriate language. I'm sure you're all aware of company policy, again with the complete agreement of the union, towards language that is derogatory of race, creed or sexuality. Such language will not be accepted and will dealt with under the normal disciplinary procedures. Is that quite clear?"

"You're talking about me, aren't you?" the restroom bigot asked. "Just because I can't be doing with poofs; they're dirty, they are."

"Yes, Maureen, in this instance I am talking about you, but I'm not singling you out. Exactly the same rule will apply to anyone else who uses that sort of language."

"Hah! You can't tell me what to think. It's a free country, or at least it used to be. Anyway, what would you know about anything?"

"Firstly, no, I can't tell you what to think but I can and will tell you what is, and what is not, appropriate language for the workplace and I will ensure that company policy on this matter is fully enforced. As to what I do or don't know about it, well, maybe I know a lot more than it seems you or your nasty little newspaper does." In the boiler room of Karen's anger the pressure gauges were reaching critical.

"I'm only saying what's right. I'm only saying what every one else around here thinks, Them poofs, they're sick and I don't want them anywhere near me," Maureen sneered.

And then something inside Karen just snapped. She hadn't meant to get sidetracked like this; she was just going to make a stand on the smoking thing but, here and now, she felt she had to say something, she had to be true to what she was. She couldn't be Karen the mouse anymore.

"Well, if you don't want them anywhere near you maybe it's time to find somewhere else to work because, right here, your working around me. I'm one of them, I'm a lesbian. Not only am I a lesbian but so is my girlfriend. Do you have any problem with that?" There, she'd said it.

"You..." Maureen started. The rest of the staff were stunned into silence.

"Yes, me, and I'm not ashamed of it. If you can't handle it, if it makes you feel uneasy because you have the daft idea that I might fancy you or some such nonsense then that's your problem because it certainly isn't mine. Is that quite clear? Now, does anyone else have any sort of problem with this?"

Mumbled denials were the only real response she got from her staff but there was none of the derision she would have had previously. She could tell that her words had struck home, maybe less so those about gender equality, but the general thrust had got through and the threat of their losing their jobs was very real. This once proud manufacturing town had seen a massive decline since the eighties; they would all have friends whose jobs had been outsourced so they would all know how quickly a 'job for life' could disappear. She looked around and saw Mel grinning at her and, when their eyes made contact, Mel mouthed the words 'Well done, sister'.

"Well, now we know where we all stand I suggest we all get back to work while we still have jobs. Don't forget to keep those flexi-sheets up to date. I will be checking."

Five minutes later Mel came over, ostensibly to check on how to proceed with a difficult case but, as they sat at Karen's desk she leant over and whispered "well done! I'm so proud of you. That took some bottle, facing down an old bat like Maureen."

"I... I had to. All those nasty things she was saying, I couldn't take it any more."

"Looks like there are quite a few things you can't take any more. I think the girls might even take notice for a change. Well done, sister, well done." And with that Mel returned to her desk.

The smoking break rule enforcement had an immediate effect of keeping more of the staff at their desks and the knock-on effects took only a little longer to manifest themselves. Even by the end of the week the increase in productivity was measurable and, more importantly, Karen felt that she was getting more respect, that her words were carrying more weight. She did make some checks on the flexi-time reporting sheets but, ironically, this had a positive side effect. Rather than finding unreported smoke breaks, she found a miscalculation by one of her staff who had worked more hours in than they thought and was able to take an afternoon off as a result.

But there was one more effect that she only found out about much, much later. That Friday the usual crowd met up in the club, well, most of them. Both Karen and Jude had cried off, each fearing that the other would be there.

Hey, guys," Mel said, "you'll never guess what happened at work on Tuesday."

"Ooh, yes, you've got to see this," Lucy added. "Go on, Mel, show them."

Mel got out her mobile and, after pushing a few buttons, started showing a video clip. When Karen had started the meeting something in her eyes had told Mel that this was going to be special and that she ought to record it on her phone. She had had to be discreet, but she had captured the essence and, in particular, Karen outing herself.

The phone was passed from hand to hand, each enjoying watching their friend make her stand, each admiring the courage they all knew it must have taken for Karen to out herself like that. Mel was keen to fill in the background and explain how much the smoking rules had been abused.

"So, is our Karen now the office dragon?" Andy asked after she had watched the video. "Is she on your back all the time?"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that," Mel replied, "but she's certainly not the pushover she used to be. As for putting that cow Maureen in her place, it was all I could do not to cheer."

"She's come a long way, our Karen," Andy mused, "a long way indeed. I do hope we're not going to lose her just because Jude's being an ass."

"We had her over for a meal last Wednesday," Mel added. "She's a bit shell-shocked but she's still one of us. She asked after all of you." Mel looked up as a shadow fell across the table. "Hi Frankie, what's happening?"

"Hi, guys," Frankie addressed the table, "what's that?" she pointed to the phone, "what's so interesting?"

"A friend of ours coming out in a rather spectacular fashion." Andy, as ever took the lead when speaking for the group.

"Can I have a look?" Frankie asked and, after a quick glance at Mel who just shrugged, Beth handed the phone over to Frankie.

"That's her, isn't it?" Frankie exclaimed, "the one that was in here with Jude the other day. She kind of owes me."

"How so?" Sarah asked.

"Can I...?" Frankie indicated a chair and, having got the group's assent, sat down. Everyone could see that she did so rather gingerly and, seeing their looks, Frankie grinned.

"Yeah, the state of my arse is all part of the story," she said as she lowered herself gently down.

"It was two days ago, Wednesday, and I was in here having a quiet drink when Jude enters. I can see she's on the prowl, I know that look, and she's sniffing round some of the lippies hanging round the bar. I'm just sitting back watching the show, you know how it goes. Anyway, she gets no joy there and she's still on her own when a bunch of tourists wander in. How? I don't know, someone must have given them the address or summat and, anyway, Wanda's not too fussy midweek, not if it's slow.  As soon as Jude spots them she's on them like a shot, giving it life and soul of the party, but I guess she comes on too strong and half scares the poor little things away. Wanda even had to step in and have a word with her.

"By ten thirty Jude's getting desperate so she wanders over in my direction. I mean, how insulting is that, she can't get anyone else so it's over to good old Frankie.  I nearly tell her to fuck off but, well, I'm in the mood, she's always fun to play with and, after all, I had nothing else going for me that evening. Anyway, to cut a long story short we grab a cab and off we go to her place.

"And that's where it all goes pear shaped. You know me, girls, I like a bit of rough and I'm the world’s biggest pain slut, but we've hardly got there before she has me arse over tit and she's ramming the world’s biggest strap-on up my jacksie. I'm screaming at her to slow down but all I get is some sort of lecture about how subs have to take whatever's coming to them. I mean, what's that all about? What's more the way she's going about it she's likely to do me a mischief.

"Any road, I've had enough. It's not just that she's hurting me, I can take that even if I still can't sit down properly for a couple of days afterwards. It's not even that I'm scared I'll end up in hospital, although that's part of it. Nah, it's as if she don't care or sommat, it's not Frankie she's fucking the arse off of, I'm just some piece of meat to her and that ain't right, whichever way you put it. So I yell out the safe word and, to give her her due, that pulls her up short. She pulls out, rolls me over and, this is the really scary bit, she goes all gooey on me; it's like she can't apologise enough. Talk about chalk and cheese, one moment she's pounding the living daylights out of my arse and the next she's Mother Theresa or summat. And all the time she's babbling some nonsense about how confused she is, how it's not been the same since Karen.

"Now I'm not that clever, hey, I'm not being modest, I know what I am but what I'm not is stupid. You don't have to be fucking Einstein to twig that it wasn't me she was trying to hurt it was this Karen. It might be my bum hole that's been ripped asunder but it was Karen that Jude wanted to fuck over. I tried to be all nicey nicey, a friend in need and all that, but you know what Jude's like. As soon as she realised I wasn't really hurt she clammed up tight. I mean she was polite and all but the next thing I know I'm dressed, in a cab and on my way home.

"So, yeah, next time you see that Karen tell her she owes me, I took the fucking from hell on her account and two days later I still can't sit down without wincing. I wouldn't mind so much but I didn't even get a decent orgasm out of it. Hey, gotta go, girls, that's Julie over there and she and I have got a thing going. Early days yet but you can never tell. Your Frankie might not be a free agent much longer. See ya!"

And with that she was off to join Julie, leaving, as so often happened, a stunned and bewildered crowd behind her.

"We can't leave it like this. I'm going to see her," Lucy said with determination.

"She won't thank you," Andy commented. "You know what she's like."

"We all know what she's like." Lucy was getting quite worked up. "She's hurting and she'll do what she always does, shove it down the neck of a bottle. Next thing you know she'll be in trouble at work again and bang goes her promotion prospects for another two years. We're her friends; we need to help her, that's what friends do."

"Yeah, but if you go round there then she'll just bawl you out. You'll just have made things worse. Best leave it to sort itself out," Sarah contributed.

"What, like it did with Sharon? We all thought that one would 'sort itself out', that Jude and Sharon would get back together again but what happened? Jude just wallowed in self-pity making herself and all around her totally miserable. I'm not going to let that happen again." Lucy was adamant.

"So what do you suggest? Do you want us all to storm round there and tell her to buck her ideas up? I can't see that working, in fact it will just make things worse, just make her more stubborn," Sarah replied. "Look, Lucy, I've known Jude the longest. She and I, well, we go way back, and, when she gets like this the only thing to do is sit back and wait. If we try to interfere it would just make things worse. Trust me on this one."

And with that the matter was, for the time being, laid to rest. What wasn't laid to rest was the video on Mel's phone. Frankie was telling all and sundry and quite a few were interested enough to come on over and ask for a look. By the end of the evening the batteries in Mel's phone were completely exhausted and, completely unbeknown to her, Karen had become a bit of a celebrity.

Come eleven o'clock when, had it been a normal Friday, they would have been heading for Jude's house, there was an unspoken agreement to give it a rest for a week or so; that, somehow, the fun had gone out of things.

"Do you know?" Lucy said as she snuggled up to Mel in the back of the cab on the way home, "I'm glad it's just the two of us tonight."

"How so?" Mel enquired.

"Well, it'll be nice, just you and me for a change."

"Are you going all Karen on me?" Mel asked.

"No, of course not, well, not entirely but it does make you think, doesn't it?"

"What does?"

"Well, there are things I prefer to keep special, things just for you and me."

"Of course there are, that goes without saying," Mel agreed, "and, as soon as we get home, we'll be doing them."

"Ooh, yes please, Mistress." Lucy chuckled and they snuggled a little closer together.

On the other side of town Jude was moping around her house bored to tears. It had been ages since she had spent a Friday in; either she was out on the beat or she was down at the club and this nothing, this emptiness was getting her down. She'd flicked through the TV channels but, apart from a couple of inane panel shows, the only other thing of interest was a police thriller. After half an hour of shouting 'we don't do it like that' at the screen she finally switched it off. She reached for the whiskey bottle which, somehow, seemed to be emptier than she expected, and poured herself a couple of fingers. She flicked through a magazine and tried reading a book but nothing seemed to work. Nothing could hold her attention.

When eleven o'clock had rolled round she had half expected the others to turn up; this was, after all, a Friday night and, Karen or no, it was playtime. By midnight, and still no sign of them, she realised that she had been let down and was going to be on her own again. She even thought about giving them a call but she couldn't trust that little minx Lucy not to spring some trap and try and push her back with Karen, just like she had done last time.

She felt a bitter resentment every time she thought about Karen. She had no right to have been down at the club in the first place, a silly little wannabe like her. And then, that first evening, how she had blown hot and cold; that ought to have been a clue. But, for all her bitterness, the image that came to mind was of Karen lifting the hem of her dress to show off her legs. There was this fragility and strength combined that, right from the start, Jude had found so attractive. And with that came a cascade of other images, the way Karen would bite her bottom lip whenever she was pushed outside her comfort zone, the warm smile that lit up her face whenever she had broken through another taboo, that look she got in her eyes as they cuddled up in bed together, the way she would make breakfast wearing nothing but an apron to protect her from the spitting fat, the way she cared. At this point Jude took another long swig from her whiskey glass.

This need, this emptiness was almost physical, located deep in her belly but, as she ruminated, she saw another image, that of Karen standing firm, the Karen that had made her stand and she knew in her heart that any attempt to patch things up would run up against the same problem. At the end of the day they were too different. If Karen couldn't accept her for what she was, accept that a Domme is always a Domme, then there was no point, no point at all.

After all, before Karen had come along she'd been doing fine on her own, she'd had plenty of fun, plenty of playmates, girls who knew how the game was played, girls who knew their place. And that brought back to mind the disastrous night she'd had with Frankie. What a nightmare that had been. Hard as she tried she couldn't really blame Frankie and, when it had all gone wrong, she'd made a fool of herself by blubbing. Knowing Frankie, that little story would be half way round the club by now, with everyone laughing at the big Domme's downfall.

She went to pour herself another whiskey but found that the bottle was empty so, lurching slightly, she took herself off to bed.

Jude wasn't the only one who was hurting. Karen too had spent a boring evening on her own. Lucy and Mel had asked if she wanted to go to the club but the possibility of running into Jude was more than she could bear. She'd watched some stupid cop drama; it hadn't been too bad but seeing women police officers, even if they were just actors, reminded her too much of Jude and how good she looked in uniform.

Whilst she cursed Jude for her pigheadedness she had to admit that the last few months had opened her eyes more than a little. She had had to rethink many of her basic tenets, her fundamental views on what was and was not 'right' or 'moral'. As she had learnt to accept her new-found friends’ proclivity for a sexuality that was well outside the norm, so too she had learnt to accept that she shared many of these desires and, given the right circumstances, would willingly join in. Why then had Jude had to go and ruin it all by demanding more than she could give, indeed, more than any reasonable person would want to give? Why did Jude fail to understand that, for her, sex without love was joyless and hollow? She'd gladly and unreservedly give her body but only to her lover.

But, for all these ponderings right here, right now, she desperately wanted a cuddle and there was only one person she wanted that cuddle from. Damn her, damn Jude and her pigheadedness.

Come Wednesday night Jude was, once again, propping up the bar down at the club when she overheard two other patrons talking.

"Did you see that video clip?" the first asked. "The one of Mel and Lucy's friend?"

At this Jude's ears pricked up.

"The one that Frankie was on about? Yeah, I loved it. I told Mel she should post it on YouTube but she said it was too private."

"Excuse me," Jude butted in, "this video, who's on it?"

"That wassername, Karen, isn't it? Yeah, Karen, the one that... hang on, didn't you spend some time with her?"

"Karen, yes, I did. And this video...?"

"You gotta see it, it's classic. Ask Mel next time you see her."

"I will, I definitely will," Jude affirmed.

Two minutes later Jude had found a quiet corner and was on the phone to Mel.

"Hi Mel, it's me, Jude," she said once she was connected. "Look, are you doing anything this evening?"

"No, Lucy's out with friends and I'm just doing the chores. Come on over."

And so it was that, half an hour later Jude arrived at Mel and Lucy's house. Mel led her through to the lounge where the TV was on and the ironing board was set up. A pile of clothes lay in a basket and a slightly smaller pile was neatly folded ready to be put away.

"What the fuck!" exclaimed Jude. "Are you doing the ironing?"

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind if I carry on."

"But you're a Domme. What sort of Domme does the ironing?" Jude said.

"One who needs clean clothes in the morning. Anyway, Lucy's out tonight and I've got nothing better to do," Mel explained.

"But that's not the point." Jude was adamant. "That's a sub's job; a Domme shouldn't lower herself to do menial tasks."

"What? You're suggesting that I should sit around all day whilst Lucy does all the work? Lucy's my wife, not my skivvy. Sure, it's all Mistress and slave in the bedroom, or the playroom, or the club but, back in the real world, she's my partner and I love her too much to mistreat her. We share things, together, and that includes the ironing."

For a moment Mel and Jude just stared at each other.

"Well, would you like a cuppa or is too menial a task for me to go and make you one?" Mel said at last.

"No, er, yes, I mean, thank you, I'd love a coffee if you would."

Mel and Jude went through to the kitchen where Mel filled the kettle and switched it on.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" Mel asked, "apart, of course, from a need to criticise my lifestyle."

"Just keeping in touch," Jude lied. "I mean, seeing as how Friday night's seem to have gone by the board for a while. Bloody woman, why did she have to go and ruin everything?"

"I  assume by 'bloody woman', you're referring to Karen. If so I'm not sure I agree that she's the one who ruined everything."

"What, you think that it's my fault?"

"Who said anything about fault?" Mel said gently. "Please, Jude, I don't want to argue with you but, well, there are two sides to every story, OK?"

"I'm just saying that if Karen wanted to be my sub then she had a funny way of going about it, making up all sort of stupid rules and limits. Her job was to shut up and do as she was told, not argue the toss all the time."

"And get on with the ironing...." Mel suggested.

"Yes," Jude replied before she realised what Mel was saying. "Well, if I had a sub I certainly wouldn't be doing it."

"Maybe that's why you haven't got a sub," Mel suggested as she turned back to the kettle, which had now boiled.

Jude was completely taken aback. She'd expected that Mel, and indeed all the crowd, would be taking her side and yet, here was Mel effectively telling her that she was wrong.

"I heard down the club," Jude tried to be as casual as possible, "that you've got some sort of video clip, something to do with Karen."

"So that's what brings you over," Mel laughed, "I knew it wasn't my sparkling personality. Yeah, I've got a clip of Karen; would you like to see it?"

Mel found her phone, pressed the relevant buttons and passed it over to Jude. The picture was shaky, the words were hard to make out and, as often as not, Karen was obscured but, nevertheless, there she was, making her stand. And then she got to the bit where Karen said 'Not only am I a lesbian but so is my girlfriend' and Jude had to stop, rewind and watch it again. Girlfriend?

"She says 'girlfriend' on this. Has she found someone else?" Jude asked, her whole world crumbling around her.

"Someone new? Karen? Are you really that dumb?" Mel said quite angrily. "That girl's going through hell because of your pigheadedness and you wonder if she's got someone new. I, and everyone else, assumes she means you, not that you deserve it for one moment."

"But...." Jude was taken aback by the vehemence of Mel's anger, "But it would never have worked between the two of us. We're too different, we're chalk and cheese."

"And that's just an excuse you tell yourself to try to stop it from hurting. Every time anyone gets close to you, you end up pushing them away. Why? What's wrong with you? What are you so scared of? Do you want to end up another sad old lonely butch wondering why the pretty girls don't fancy you any more? Get real girl, get real."

The two women sat in silence over the kitchen table supping their coffee. Jude, for want of anything else to do, picked up Mel's phone and, once again, played the clip. Her thoughts were a confused tumble of conflicting emotions; Bloody Karen, how could she do this to her, how could she....

"I'd best be off," Jude said, getting up from the table. "I've got things to do."

"What, whiskey to drink, you mean," Mel said.

"Please, Mel...."

"OK, that was harsh but that's what you're going to do, isn't it? Go home and hit the bottle. I know you, Jude, I've known you for a long time and I'm more than a trifle fond of you but you're your own worst enemy. Please, I hate to see a good friend fuck up her life like the way you seem determined to."

"I thought you'd understand; I thought you'd sympathise." Jude said bitterly.

"Perhaps I do," Mel replied, "perhaps I understand better than you think. Please, Jude, for the sake our friendship, think about it, think about what you're doing."

Jude looked at her friend. If nothing else their shared experiences counted for something but, right now, Jude was in no position to take it all in. She shook her head, stood up and put on her coat.

"I'll think about it," she said. "Will I see you Friday?"

"Err.. we've... look... well...," Mel realised there was no way out of this one. "Jude, thing is we're giving it a rest for a few weeks."

"What, you and Lucy?"

"No, all of us. It doesn't feel right at the moment. Not without Karen." There, she'd said it.

"But there's always Frankie, or one of the other girls."

"But that's the point. We don't want to play with Frankie or one of the other girls. They're not family."

"And Karen is, I suppose. Well, at least I know who my friends are, or aren't. Fuck you and all who sail in you." And with that Jude stormed off into the night.