The Heart of the Story
Story 1 of The Butterfly Files
by Quinn65
“Seriously?” CeCe tilted her head, checking her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “’The most beautiful nerd?’”
“Fuck that guy,” replied Talia.
“Well, I might have, if you hadn’t scared him off,” but CeCe was smiling at the memory. All muscles and slick confidence, ‘Derrek,’ her barfly suitor, had quickly become a prick when CeCe had demurred to his lame pick-up line. Then he’d made the mistake of putting an unwanted hand on her.
Unbeknownst to Derrek, CeCe was at the bar to wrap up the first day of a working vacation with her friend Tal, who was known in other, more official circles as U.S. Deputy Marshal Talia Morrisey, formerly of the New Orleans Police Department. Tal had removed Derrek’s hand from CeCe’s shoulder and walked him back several steps into a table, rattling the empty bottles and drinks scattered there.
Derrek unwisely took exception to her actions and issued a threat. Tal had leaned in and replied with a few words in a quiet, lethal tone that immediately changed his mind. Face white, he had abandoned his dignity and left in a hurry.
Tal would have broken him in half if he’d lingered two seconds longer, thought CeCe. In addition to being a federal officer, her attractive blonde friend was also a brutal expert in some kind of Israeli military fighting style that CeCe could never remember the name of. Derrek had no idea how close he’d come to serious injury.
Talia, seated back with her friend, caught CeCe’s eye in the mirror. “No, Ce, you would not have fucked that guy. Not on his best day and your worst.”
“Ok, you’re right. He was an asshole. But if he’d only stopped at ‘beautiful,’ I might have forgiven him that.”
Talia smirked. “Shut up, Ce. You can do so much better. I mean, here we both sit. I ain’t too shabby, but there you are, all dark curly hair and long lean lines and a big-time professor now to boot. Ok, maybe you’re a little soft and nerdy, but there’s a reason that worthless mook picked you…you, you sexy librarian.”
“Right,” CeCe laughed, “a gym rat asshole with a nerd fetish. I’m flattered. And you shut up, Tal. I’m not the one who looks like Posh Spice, the blonde years. Well, pissed Posh Spice.”
Tal’s smirk went to a sideways grin, exposing a slightly chipped tooth. “My attitude keeps the bad guys at bay, doesn’t matter if it’s the streets of New Orleans or the bars of Las Vegas.”
“I’ll admit, it’s good to have you around” CeCe said. “It was so cool that you could get away for this!”
“Yeah, all that paid leave builds up fast when you’re a workaholic. My asshole supervisor keeps bugging me to take a vacation. You had good timing, Ce; I was getting burned out. And I get to see you. And best of all I get to find out whatever the fuck Meredith might possibly be getting herself up to these days in Las Vegas, Nevada, of all places.”
CeCe’s eyes went wide. “I know, right? Sin City, so perfect for her! I’m sure she landed on her gorgeous, perfect feet. I’m kind of surprised she doesn’t run the whole place by now.”
“Well, give her time,” said Talia. “How long has it been?”
CeCe looked up to think. “Well, since we met, right? I did the story in, um, 2014 and 2015. The trial would have been the summer of 2015, and then she moved out here before the Voodoo Festival, so Halloween-ish. About six years ago.”
“Time flies,” observed Talia. “Speaking of, you haven’t really told me yet. How’s life been in the sticks?”
CeCe shot her friend a look, “Bloomington is not the sticks. It’s a cool college town.”
“Uh huh,” Talia agreed, “surrounded by the sticks.”
“Fair enough. You’ll see for yourself in a few days when we do the debrief at Kinsey. I can’t wait to show you my place! Anyway, it’s great teaching there. I love working with kids who are excited about journalism. And there are lots of freelance writing opportunities.”
Talia nodded. “Including the one that brings us here now. How exactly did you get hooked into this anyway?”
“Well,” CeCe replied, “it’s interesting. One of my teaching colleagues, Kim, is friends with some researchers at the Kinsey Institute.”
“The sex place? Like the movie?”
CeCe nodded. “The very same, and our current benefactors. Kim said these researchers were looking into social attitudes about BDSM, which got me telling her about our adventures with Meredith back in New Orleans. Long story short, Kim introduced me to the researchers, and it turned out that whole Meredith thing was right in line with their study. They learned I was a freelancer on the side, so they asked if I’d be comfortable reconnecting with Meredith and writing a follow-up piece if they funded everything.”
“Yeah, right,” quipped Talia, “tell them thanks from me.”
“Ha, I will. They had no problem paying your way after they found out you were involved in the original events. And as a badass U.S. Marshal to boot, they thought you could provide security if I had to go anywhere, you know, dark or scary.”
“Like the lair of a Queen Dominatrix.”
“Exactly!” Laughed CeCe. “If they only knew what an…honorable woman Meredith was, they might have denied your per diem.”
Talia agreed, “She was quite a lady. I imagine she still is. It was so cool watching her face down those asshole prosecutors back home. And the asshole reporters, no offense.”
“None taken. I noticed you included your team in there.”
Talia smiled. “Well, we were the good guys, right? You were the reporter who held Reverend Family Values accountable, and I was the cop who didn’t want to see him lay blame on another decent, innocent person.”
CeCe replayed some classic scenes in her mind. “With Meredith, they had no idea who they were messing with.”
Talia knocked back the last of her drink and slammed down her glass. “Damn straight! So, you two kept in touch?”
“A bit. After she forgave me for the story, you know we became friends.”
“Yeah, but wait, you don’t feel bad about that, right? I mean how could you have known…?”
CeCe shook her head. “No, no, not anymore. But at the time, I felt like the first domino falling that led to her move. You know me.”
“Right. Squishy tree-hugger bleeding heart.” Talia shoulder bumped her friend.
“So anyway,” CeCe continued, “we did keep in touch. She’s easy to talk to and has lots of great stories. Plus, I felt like I’d only scratched the surface of her world when we first met, and yeah, yeah, it wasn’t my fault, but maybe if I had better understood her then, or dug deeper to show the human side of things, it could have spared her some grief.”
“I gotcha, Ce. That’s you being you. So now, with this follow-up piece, you can try again to really understand her, and write a new story that makes amends.”
“Yep, Tal, you know me too well. She was thrilled about the project when I called her, and when I explained what I was after, she said she had some ideas to give me the insights I was looking for.”
“She was an instructor, right? Like, Bondage 101 and Advanced Whipping?”
“Ha! Yes, and please don’t tease her like that when we see her tomorrow, Tal. Not my fault, I get it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still feel a little guilty.”
“Ce, c’mon, think about it. This is Meredith we’re talking about. I can be an annoying bitch, but I’m pretty sure she’d take anything I threw at her and eat it like candy.”
“Good point, Tal. Just be nice.” CeCe looked at her phone. “Jesus, it’s past midnight! It’s an hour’s drive and we need to be there at 10 AM. I may punch out and hit the sack. How’s your room, by the way?”
“It’s great, thanks,” Tal favored her friend with a predatory look and cocked her head, “and about to be filled with at least one of those college jocks over there. Care for a taste?”
“Oh God Tal, no!”
Talia’s smile showed the tips of her canine teeth.
CeCe knew this look; she shook her head sadly. “Those poor boys. Be careful. Please don’t hurt anyone too badly.”
“Careful, babe? This is Vegas! I’m on a bondage vacation! I’m gonna wrangle me a college boy and go practice.” She nudged CeCe again playfully. “You’re just sexually repressed.”
CeCe turned and faced her friend with a smile, touching her shoulders and catching her eye. “I have missed you so much.”
“Nerd.”
They hugged and said goodnight.
***
CeCe awoke to a sunny Vegas morning.
The weather was warm, and Meredith had said ‘dress casual,’ although for her, that could just mean ‘don’t tighten your corset,’ thought CeCe with a smile. She hadn’t packed much, though, and threw on a light blue blouse over white capris and some flat, strappy sandals to show off the purple polish from yesterday’s spa day pedi with Tal. Everything about CeCe was long and narrow, and the simple outfit set her features off nicely. A touch of makeup, some simple jewelry, nothing fancy. Then she paused and looked at her perfume.
It’s so silly I brought that, she thought. Who am I trying to impress? The voice in her head knew, though, and answered easily, “Meredith.” Damnit.
CeCe had a healthy dating life in Bloomington and many female friends, but her romantic interests were exclusively male. Meredith, though, had gotten into her head, lo those many years ago. Not so much sexually, except there was maybe a touch of that, but in a more compelling way. In her fifties and aging exceptionally well, Meredith was a force. The woman could focus. Strong in her convictions and insightful with her friends, she was someone you wanted to impress and please.
With a resigned smile, CeCe picked up the perfume, dabbed some around her neck, and headed down to meet Tal.
Talia was waiting in the lobby, a happy bundle of suppressed energy in short blonde hair and a crop top blouse over skinny jeans. The heels on her sandals boosted her height a couple of inches. Tal wasn’t short, but CeCe had some inches on her, and she always thought that might bother her competitive friend just a little. Tal beamed energy and gave CeCe her chip-toothed smile as she approached for a hug.
Talia pulled back from the hug with an appraising look. “Fuck me girlfriend, you smell hot!”
In the morning lobby crowd, she hadn’t noticed the sweet family with their kids walking by, and caught a hard glare from the dad. She glared back. “Not you, dad bod. Her.” He wisely walked on.
CeCe blushed through a “thanks” and gave her friend a once-over. “Jesus, Tal. It isn’t fair. What do you do on the side, run competitive track and field?”
“No way, Ce. That sounds like exercise. I just bounce bad guys off the walls. Suits me and keeps me fit.”
“Well, you look amazing. Speaking of, did you get yourself a football guy last night? Or two or three?”
Talia smiled and waggled her eyebrows. “I’m saving that story for Meredith.”
“Ok then, I’ll wait. Ready to go?”
“Let’s do this.”
Minutes later, CeCe was driving the rental car out of the city toward Meredith’s…House? Lair? The women weren’t sure what they’d find, but they were both excited to see their old friend.
“How’s your mom?” asked Talia as they drove. “Still driving you crazy?”
“Yeah, but in a good way. She moved to Bloomington too, you know. We visit, have girl’s nights, fun stuff. She can’t wait to see you!”
“Is she still on the marriage warpath?”
“Sometimes, but it’s ok. You know mom, she’s an old hippie. She mostly just wants me to try new things, and always thinks I’m in a rut. For the last two weeks, she’s been teasing me about Meredith.”
“Meredith?” Talia asked, “how so?”
“Ha! You’ll laugh, but she only says this to tease me.”
“Says what?”
“She pretends I secretly want Meredith to tie me up!”
Talia did laugh, literally slapping her knee. “Oh God, that’s great!” She arched an eyebrow. “And do you?”
“No!”
“Ha! You know, when I’m interrogating someone and their voice goes up like that, I always know they’re lying.”
“Shut up, Posh.”
“Nerd.”
“Ok, here’s the interstate.”
Talia found a ‘90s station on the radio and the women sang along for a while. After their exit, it seemed like every turn pointed them toward a nicer area.
“Daaayum…” Talia observed, “Vegas has been good to Meredith.”
“This is a nice area,” CeCe agreed. “And here’s the neighborhood.”
Google maps brought them through a security gate and into the driveway of not a castle, or a dungeon, or a dark tower, but a classy high end suburban home. Both women leaned down and craned their necks to take it all in as they pulled up the drive.
Talia gaped. “Did she marry, or…?”
“Definitely not, Tal. This is all her. Wow.”
“How the fuck much does a dominatrix make,” asked Talia, “and why the fuck am I a cop instead?!”
The circular drive allowed them to park near the door. There were more trees than they’d expected, and the home itself was all understated elegance in light-colored stone and wood with lots of glass.
The front door opened as they exited their car, and there stood their old friend.
CeCe turned and screamed, “You got younger!” and everyone laughed.
Meredith bounced in place, arms thrown out, smiling down at her guests. Her voice had just a hint of an accent, but CeCe had never placed it. “CeCe! Talia! Welcome, welcome! I’m so so happy to see you!”
The women hurried up the stairs for a group hug. When they broke, Meredith stood back and looked at CeCe, then at Talia, and then back at CeCe.
“Fuck me, CeCe, you smell fantastic.”
Talia sat down laughing as CeCe blushed.
When everyone recovered, Meredith led the ladies into a cool and spacious foyer. She really was dressed casually, for Meredith. She wore a thin rose pink cashmere sweater, loose around the neck, with something strappy underneath. Expensive looking dark-colored slacks tapered down to classic Meredith fuck-me heels. Her dark auburn hair tumbled around her head, clasped haphazardly, with just a few classy hints of grey showing. With very little make-up, she looked like a gracefully aging Hollywood diva who knew something funny that you didn’t. Her nails, both hands and feet, gleamed red with occasional glinting designs.
“What a great house!” CeCe observed as they walked between two curving staircases into a bright living room. Chilled wine and light snacks were set out on a low table surrounded by comfortable looking couches. The ladies sat, sipped, relaxed, and smiled like old friends who had seen the wars.
“Thank you dear, I truly love it. Moving here was a blessing in many ways.”
“Nice, uh, decorations,” noted Talia, raising an eyebrow at the shelves around the room.
Meredith smiled proudly. “I had a bet with myself, Talia, to see how long it would take you to notice my cues. You clocked in at ten seconds. I can tell you I’ve made many close friends here who have spent hours in this room, and never noticed a thing.”
“To be fair,” Talia noted, “I had an advantage.”
“Ahhh, my dear, but the cues are so subtle! You have an impressive eye.”
Now CeCe caught on, as she picked out small works of art and trinkets among the books and other knick-knacks on the shelves depicting various sexual themes. Some implied implements of restraint or torture, but never as a focus. Many book titles were intriguing as well, but nothing was blatant.
“I love it,” said CeCe, “but what’s the game? Do you hide your lifestyle here, or can you flaunt it?”
“It is what it is, CeCe.” Meredith explained. “It’s there for anyone who wants to look and ask, but it doesn’t insist on your attention. I’ve had some interesting sessions start right here in this room as people with certain inclinations saw my cues and began dropping hints of their own. It is a game, and it’s fun.” Her smile turned slightly devious. “Plus, it’s so much fun to catch one of the vanilla neighborhood PTA moms looking, and then get her asking, and then to gently ease her down the path. That’s happened a few times…”
CeCe could imagine.
The conversation moved to each woman’s life since New Orleans, ranging from accomplishments, to frustrations, to old habits and new goals. CeCe spoke of her path from local crusading freelance reporter to journalism professor, and Talia caught Meredith up on her progression from New Orleans police officer to Deputy U.S. Marshal in something called the “Special Operations Group.” As always, along with the bare facts, discussions under Meredith’s gentle questioning took many insightful turns. It felt good to catch up.
After a while, the wine had CeCe feeling just slightly light-headed, and she could tell she wasn’t the only one. Conversation loosened up and become more personal, laced with jokes and innuendos, especially from Talia. Before long, sexual exploits became the focus, and CeCe and Talia regaled their host with stories, culminating in Tal’s promised football adventure from the night before…
***
“Yeah, the poor kid,” Tal said, wrapping up her story. “He really thought I’d lost the key. I had pretended to call the front desk for help, and he was bouncing on the bed like a landed fish, which surprised me, because guys don’t normally have that much energy left when I’m through with them.”
Meredith laughed. “The power of adrenaline and youth. He’ll have a great story to wrap his lies around when he tells his friends.”
Talia’s predator smile was back, remembering. “No doubt.”
CeCe asked, “So when did you show him the key?”
“Well,” Talia said, “I had actually placed a room service order from the bathroom earlier, so I waited for them to knock. The key came out seconds after he’d lost all hope.”
CeCe sighed. “Perfect. For entertainment last night I read a book on my Kindle. You chained up and tortured a college football player.”
“Hey, Ce, I offered you a taste! We could have done him together! There was enough linebacker there for everyone.”
“He was the age of my students!”
“Uh huh, my thought exactly. That’s how I spell ‘fucking hot.’”
CeCe smiled and shook her head incredulously, but she had to admit, something about that story gave her a tingle. She turned to Meredith. “So, those are our stories. Well, two of mine and seventeen of Tal’s. What about you?”
“My dear, I never thought you’d ask.” Meredith smiled. “No, that’s not true – I specifically knew you would ask.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Meredith. We’re in town for the weekend, and I’m here to really listen. Your story has rattled around in my head for six years now; I don’t want to leave Las Vegas without at least an ‘ah-ha.’”
“Of course, dear. I believe an ‘ah-ha’ is entirely within reach. And it’s my turn in the conversation anyway, so not a terrible segue.”
The women nodded, then Talia said, “I remember your place in the French Quarter; is it safe to assume there’s something similar nearby for your, uh, exploits? This house is beautiful, but aside from your cues, it seems very vanilla.”
“Why thank you,” Meredith replied, “but you haven’t toured the whole place yet. Do you two want to see where I have my fun?”
CeCe and Talia exchanged a glance, eyebrows arched comedically. CeCe knew this was coming, but her heart still raced, and her breath caught, giving Tal a second to answer: “Absolutely, that’s part of what we’re here for! Bring it on.”
Meredith graciously led them toward the back of the house to a door, which she opened to a set of basement stairs. The women descended, Meredith last, into what appeared to be a well-appointed waiting room. CeCe was reminded of the foyer of a therapist’s office she’d visited some years ago in New Orleans. Understated and classy.
The basement revealed itself to have a walkout door, presumably exiting toward the unseen back lot. Comfortable chairs and reading materials were appointed around an expensive entertainment center, across from another door that stood slightly ajar into a bathroom.
Along a side wall, the room’s most prominent feature was another large bookshelf, its shelves populated by a random mix of best sellers, classics, and subtly kinky knick-knacks.
“My clients love this, and I have to admit, so do I,” Meredith explained as she approached the shelves. Stretching up to reach a series of books by A. N. Roquelaure, she pulled one out halfway, triggering a deep, satisfying, mechanical “click” as the whole piece of furniture shifted slightly forward. Then, with a gentle push, Meredith sent the entire apparatus rolling smoothly aside, exposing a portal into a large hidden room.
An involuntary “ooooohhh” escaped both CeCe and Talia, making them all laugh. “I know,” said Meredith coyly. “Sometimes, when I get sad, I just think of my secret door and it turns my whole day around.”
The structure of the room behind the bookshelf looked surprisingly industrial. “I bought this house five years ago,” Meredith explained. “The previous owner had a machine shop down here, and performed projects on the side for several customers. That’s why my clients today know this place as ‘The Machine Shop.’
“The waiting room where you’re standing was his front office, and the exterior door over there leads to a path and parking lot behind the building. It’s a perfect way for my clients to enter and leave unobserved. Many of my neighbors probably have some idea what I do, but there’s no use having clients parade up and down my front drive at odd hours. And most of them highly value their privacy.”
CeCe and Talia walked slowly into the concealed room, trailing their guide and exchanging glances. The old machine shop was now cleverly divided by portable standing curtains into what looked like small movie sets, each with a unique theme. They followed Meredith as she strolled between a doctor’s exam room staged on one side and an old-fashioned jailhouse setup on the other. Various props hung from the walls: whips, cuffs, lengths of rope, riding crops, and other devices CeCe didn’t recognize.
Meredith explained, “I try to keep up with my clients’ most common fantasies. While all BDSM isn’t about restraint or confinement, that tends to be a focus of mine, so each of these setups plays to a variation on that theme.”
Past the exam table, CeCe and Talia found a fully appointed Victorian bedroom with an imposing four-poster bed that seemed to have extra bracing. Across from this was an area that looked like a work in process, where Meredith gestured. “My girls and I will be turning that set into a mad scientist’s lab soon. New client. Very rich and very specific.”
She walked on, parting another heavy curtain that cut across the entire back of the room. “This whole rear section is pretty much your traditional dungeon, although I try to make it a little more upscale and comfortable than the Tower of London.” As she spoke, Meredith directed the women into an area twice the size of the other sets.
Talia, for her part, had been unusually quiet. She kept looking around and nodding her head thoughtfully. CeCe could understand the reaction – she was stunned at the professionalism and sophistication evident here. “I had no idea it would be like this. Are a lot of dominatrixes set up this way?”
“I would say very few,” Meredith replied. “Not many solo practitioners like me, anyway. I’m proud to say this is an unusually successful operation that I’ve nurtured for over thirty years. Obviously, you know the type of clientele I had in New Orleans. I’ve been fortunate to have some similarly wealthy clients here who are happy to fund customized experiences, and pay staggering fees to boot.”
She went on, “Most BDSM you find is on a much smaller scale, either among partners in their bedrooms or smaller groups of kinksters. But big or small, all the serious players operate according to a set of rules and protocols that ensure everyone is respected and safe. One thing I want you to understand for your article, CeCe, is how those rules and norms define us as a caring community of people who respect each other, and deserve the respect of others; not a bunch of freaks to be gawked at and made fun of.”
CeCe nodded. “I think I’m beginning to see. And it makes me less uncomfortable with the idea in concept. I’ll admit, when I first looked into this years ago, some of those tropes and biases you alluded to leapt immediately to mind.”
“Exactly,” Meredith replied. “You are one of the most open minded and inquisitive people I’ve ever met, CeCe, but honestly I’m not surprised it was a little hard to wrap your head around BDSM at first. Hopefully you leave here appreciating how this can be just another kind of joyful place for a person to put their energy.”
CeCe suddenly became aware of Talia’s lingering silence. Her friend had meandered to a well-lit corner of the dungeon area to inspect a matched set of leather recliners, heavy with integrated straps and cuffs, and sporting what appeared to be ankle stocks at the footrests.
“Tal!” CeCe called, “Are we losing you over there?”
Talia looked up, laughing. “Not at all. I’m just gonna say, I am more than a little intrigued.” She turned to their guide. “So, Meredith, there seem to be two of everything. Why is that?”
“Good observation,” Meredith replied, smiling. “You don’t miss much, Deputy Marshal. Basically, having everything twinned is the most economical way to serve my clients. Many like to come in as couples, but if not, it’s easy enough to adjust the setups for one. I also have two lifestyle submissives who live here with me, so we often find these setups convenient for our own play between client sessions. In fact, we were using those chairs that have caught your attention just the other day.”
Talia nodded. “Nice. I want to hear more later about ‘lifestyle submissives,’ but before we move on, tell me: what do you really think is the appeal of all this to your customers? Or also, I suppose, to your housemates?”
“I could answer that for you, Talia, but aside from being a dominatrix, I believe you know I am also a BDSM instructor. Why don’t you tell me what you think the answer is?”
Talia didn’t often blush, but she did now, just a little. “Well, ok. I guess we’re all sharing secrets here, so why not me? My experience with bondage goes beyond handcuffing college linebackers to my hotel bed. I dated a really nice guy not long ago who liked to tie me up. Prior to meeting Rob, I hadn’t really thought about bondage before, but I’ll tell you, adding that to our sex life was fucking hot.”
Talia had CeCe’s full attention, but it was Meredith with the follow-up: “Why do you think that was so?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think on it too deeply at the time, but walking around here…I don’t know. It’s bringing back impressions. I think back then it was partly because it felt a little ‘wrong,’ or taboo, but that’s never been a huge barrier for me.”
CeCe nodded as Tal said this. In all honesty, walking through Meredith’s dungeon intrigued her as well at some level, and she was processing the thoughts it evoked. A subtle, disconnected sense of taboo was part of her reaction too, although it seemed to add more intrigue to her considerations than resistance.
Talia went on. “I’m always in charge, right? But when we had sex after Rob would cuff me to the bed, as I started to climax, I would think to myself ‘oh my God, I’m about to come and I can’t stop it,’ and then I would just explode. It was fucking great, pun intended, but afterward I always felt just a little twinge of guilt.”
Meredith was nodding. “I think I might understand a little, Talia. And CeCe, I see you nodding as well, but you’re a bit quiet. This puts us at a bit of a crossroads. I would love to explain further to both of you, and I could try to do that from a psychological perspective, but let me instead suggest something that might help you really understand what lies beyond the societal taboo of BDSM play.”
Meredith paused here, considering. The older woman’s charisma was palpable in the room, quietly demanding her guests’ attention. CeCe considered the devilish devices around her, and suddenly imagined being restrained in one, at the playful mercy of this compelling, focused woman. She had wanted to remain objective about this story, but couldn’t deny she was mildly turned on for the second time that day.
Meredith seemed to reach a decision, and as if on cue, continued. “CeCe, Talia, I have the whole day free, with the house to myself. Would you two like to try something down here, firsthand?”
Both women startled and laughed, exchanging the same comedic glance they had shared in the living room.
“What?!” CeCe stammered, regarding the nearby implements of torture and blushing harder. “You mean, like, right now?” Talia’s eyes widened, her face also reddening a shade.
Meredith was politely enjoying the moment. “Of course, if you wish. But let me be clear, under no circumstances would I want you to try anything that made you feel unsafe. However, CeCe, you shared earlier that you wanted to better understand the BDSM mindset, and forgive me, but I’m picking up subtle signals that you both are curious.” Meredith’s tone was kind and understanding, compelling, but not the least bit intimidating. As she finished speaking, she raised her eyebrows, receiving subtle but affirmative nods from the women to continue.
“Well then,” she continued. “If we can think of something that you’re willing try, do keep in mind that it would be something new and a little edgy. While I would want you to feel safe, it’s hard to imagine how we could get to the point of the exercise I am suggesting – that is, having an actual submissive experience – if our play lacked intensity. Bottom line, we’ll know we’re onto something good if it seems safe but scary, like a roller coaster.”
CeCe partly recovered, smiling shyly. “Ok Meredith, I’m busted. You’re persuasive, and you read people well, neither of which surprises me. I am curious and I do want to learn, but what exactly are you suggesting we try? I don’t see myself getting naked, and I can barely pull off a band-aid without crying, much less let you have at me with one of those whips on the wall.”
“Good points, CeCe. Let me explain a little more.” As Meredith spoke, she hooked a nearby stool with her foot and pulled it over to sit. CeCe leaned back on the wall between some props, crossing her arms, and Talia settled on the arm of the big leather bondage chair she’d been investigating, leaning forward.
“First of all, while people can of course get naked for BDSM activities, they just as often stay fully clothed, maybe even in costume, playing a role, or a game. To your second point, it’s not all whips and pain, although that certainly is to some people’s taste. Pain gets a lot of attention in the media, and from what I call the ‘muggle world.’ But BDSM play can take many, many forms, including the simple act of being restrained.” She looked up. “We could try that.”
“You mean just tie us up and leave us?” Talia asked. “Jesus, that’s like torturing someone with boredom! At least I gave my linebacker a hand job.”
“Ha! Well, don’t sell boredom short,” Meredith countered. “Some people like it very much. They are losing control and being left alone, almost forced to relax, which can be incredibly soothing to certain types of individuals. What you see as enforced boredom might, in their case, be just the point.”
This gave CeCe a thought. “I’m with Tal, I wouldn’t want to be tied and left alone. But you said, ‘losing control.’ That’s clearly a big part of what goes on here.”
Meredith nodded. “You’re definitely right CeCe. Control, and managing control in a mutually positive way, is arguably at the center of all this. Again, I could go on explaining, and I’m willing to, but experience teaches me that it’s much easier to articulate the dynamics of submitting to another if that person tries it first in a fun and supportive setting. Otherwise, people tend to see it through a dark and scary lens, reflecting the ‘taboo’ Tal spoke of earlier, or your own admitted biases.”
CeCe looked at Tal again, and Tal nodded a little. “Ok Meredith, so how would you suggest we try it? If restraining and leaving us alone is a bust, and I’m allergic to whips, I mean…” CeCe shrugged with a smile. “What’s the nicest, tamest, most fun thing you do to people down here?”
Meredith rubbed her chin. “Good question. Let’s see… as I said before, I mostly do confinement and impact play. Confinement alone is out because you both find it boring.” She smiled. “And heavy impact play certainly won’t work if you cry when you peel off band-aids.”
“I can rip off band-aids like a pro,” Talia chimed in, “but I’m with Ce on getting whipped.”
Meredith smiled again, cutting her eyes at the chairs. “Well, that leaves us with an obvious choice, but I’ll tell you right now that it might shock you both a little.”
“I can’t even imagine,” CeCe looked to Talia and back. “What is it?”
“Come to think of it,” mused Meredith, “it is the top choice of the PTA moms who make it this far…”
Talia leaned forward and grinned, “Ok then, out with it! The suspense is killing me.”
Meredith looked at them both. “Tickling.”
CeCe let out a startled squeak, setting off a round of nervous laughter. Talia’s lips formed an O as she cut a surprised look from her fidgeting friend back to Meredith.
The dominatrix chuckled softly and offered a calming gesture, palms toward the floor. “Ok, hear me out. Let me explain how it might unfold, and then you decide. But I think this could actually work.” The women’s expressions were skeptical but open, so Meredith continued.
“The thing about tickling, which is more popular than you think, is that it’s not really painful, it doesn’t leave marks, and as opposed to simply leaving you bound and alone, it’s a way we can actively manipulate your control. You’d be surprised at not only the PTA moms, but the ‘who’s who’ of corporate executives and celebrities that I’ve had in this room, strapped to those very chairs, getting tickled and losing their minds with laughter.”
Talia’s mouth was still in the O. “Seriously?”
“I kid you not, my dear. Some people love to laugh, and maybe for others it takes them back to childhood play. But regardless of the motivation, tickling can provide a great release and a give you a huge endorphin rush. My clients who are into it often talk about getting a ‘tickle buzz’ afterward.”
Talia was processing, so CeCe spoke up. “So let me get this straight. You’re proposing we sit in these two chairs, put our feet through those ankle stocks, let you tie us down with all those straps and cuffs so we can’t move, and then tickle torture us? For a positive lesson on submission and losing control?”
“Yes dear, that sums it up nicely. It’s the best idea I have. And it feels right, based on what we’ve discussed, if you really want to try something.”
CeCe placed her hands on her hips as she turned to study the chairs. They certainly looked like something from a dungeon: heavy, dark leather, reclined and fixed in place, with a strong bondage vibe set off by integrated cuffs and belts. The wooden stocks she spoke of were positioned where a reclining person’s ankles would naturally rest, and looked like the types of implements one might find in an old painting of a pilgrim town square.
Her heart was beating fast, but in a not entirely unpleasant way. Something about this idea seemed fun, and CeCe was naturally an intensely curious person, but she was also a grown, accomplished, professional adult woman with responsibilities, and the idea of letting herself be restrained and tickled was nuts! CeCe knew she was very ticklish. If she did this, she realized she might – no, she almost certainly would – go crazy! The whole thing was difficult to picture. It was hard to imagine how it would feel, physically and emotionally…which she supposed was the point…but then again…
“I’ll do it!” Talia blurted. “Why not? I mean what the hell, how often in a grown woman’s life do you get to try something like this? If I chicken out, I’ll spend the rest of my days kicking myself and wondering what it would have been like.”
CeCe was stunned at her control freak friend. “You will?!”
Talia’s wolf grin was back. “Yes, I will. And so will you.”
“What?”
The smile hardened. “Because I’ll only do it if you do. Gauntlet down, nerd.”
“Oh God…” CeCe could feel the slippery slope steepening. “Seriously Tal? Now we’re going to get tied down and tickled?! Who planned this vacation anyway?” Everyone laughed. “But I have another question for you Meredith. I mean, I know I’m really ticklish. Tal, are you ticklish?”
“Oh yeah. The last guy who pinned me down and tried it almost got his arm broken.”
“Ok then, Meredith, what if it tickles too much and we want to make it stop? First, how do we do that if we’re strapped in, and second, if we’re so ticklish that we can’t stand it for more than an instant, what’s the point of the exercise anyway?”
“Great questions, CeCe. Let me answer bluntly, because if you two agree to this, your consent should be fully informed. First, I am very good at this. If I tie you down and tickle you, I guarantee that at some point, sooner than you probably think, you will start begging me to stop. You won’t be able to keep yourself from begging any more than you could keep your hand on a hot stove.”
CeCe nodded. Talia looked skeptical.
“But, if the whole reason behind the exercise is for you to understand what it’s like to submit, then when you do beg, I’ll have to ignore it and keep tickling you, possibly far beyond your limits.”
CeCe audibly gulped, eliciting a chuckle from Talia.
“There’s a ‘headspace’ many submissives find when it becomes clear that their actions are no longer under their control. It’s a level of deeply felt release that can actually open paths in your mind. But to get there, you need to let go completely and become secondary, an observer, just a passenger, in thrall to the will of another.”
“I’m a little worried that this makes sense to me,” quipped Tal. “You learn a few things about compliance in law enforcement.”
Meredith continued. “To be clear, it will be my will you’re surrendering to.” She looked at Talia. “I know nothing of law enforcement, dear, but in the scene we’re contemplating, I’ll use tickling to ensure your compliance with my wishes. I will demand complete obedience. You will fight back – everyone does – but it will be my job to overwhelm your ego and free you from it.”
Talia smiled. “Was that a challenge I just heard?” Meredith winked.
And from CeCe, “That sounds incredibly intense. I mean, is it safe?”
“I can do it in a way that keeps you safe. You both look very fit; I assume there are no medical problems that would keep you from extreme activities?”
“Not for me,” Tal volunteered. “No, I’m good,” seconded CeCe.
“Well then, I still think this might really work. It’s partly why tickling provides such a perfect answer to your question. It’s a bit of a blunt instrument, but it’s safe, and let’s just say, if you’re very ticklish, it produces results quickly.”
“But hang on, Meredith,” CeCe said. “If you put a person in distress like that and then ignore their begging, no matter how good you are, isn’t there chance of hurting them somehow unintentionally?”
“Another very good point. You’ve probably heard of ‘safewords?’”
Tal quickly offered a “Yep,” but CeCe demurred. “I have, but I’m not exactly sure how they work, and that seems important.”
Meredith nodded. “Safewords are very important, and they address your last question perfectly. So, before the scene starts, we would pick a word, one you wouldn’t normally say – something like ‘butterfly.’ Speaking that word immediately brings the scene to a stop and shifts my attention to your immediate needs. For instance, we might take a break, or get some water, or loosen a strap, or end the play completely. Whatever you asked.”
“Ok,” CeCe said, “I understand that, but what if I wimp out and say ‘butterfly’ the second you touch me?”
“Now that is a conundrum,” mused Meredith. “Of course, my clients generally like whatever I’m doing, and bearing up under the torment is part of their fantasy, but if you safeword for any reason, I will absolutely stop, no matter what. It’s part of the code I mentioned earlier, representing the trust between us that hopefully enables you to give up control in the first place, at least for a while.”
“Oh, I trust you, Meredith. I know that for a fact, because beyond all reason, I am actually considering this! I’m just afraid that you’ll go to all the trouble, and I’ll instantly wimp out. I’m not sure how to guard against that…I mean, I am very, very ticklish.”
Talia looked up suddenly, smiling brightly at CeCe. “I have an idea,” she said, catching her friend’s eyes. “We could make a bet.”
Meredith perked up and smiled as CeCe turned to her friend. “What do you mean?”
Talia rose from her perch on the chair’s armrest and gestured behind her. “There are two bondage chairs here, right? If we did this together, we could make it a contest to see who safewords first! Whoever holds out the longest, wins the bet.”
“Ok, but what would we bet?”
Tal turned to Meredith. “I assume, with all this equipment, that you make videos for your clients sometimes?”
“Certainly.”
“So, CeCe, I propose that we video the session. If I win, when we get back to Bloomington for the debrief, you invite your mom over for a girl’s movie night to watch it.”
“Oh NO!” CeCe blushed. She couldn’t even imagine her mom’s shocked and delighted reaction, and the endless teasing that would ensue. “You’ve gotta be kidding…”
“Nope. And if you win, well, mainly, I would be completely humiliated to give in to a wimp like you, so there’s just no way I’ll lose, which alone is sufficient motivation for me. But I imagine you’ll want something else to sweeten the pot, so…I don’t know…what?” Tal’s brow furrowed.
But CeCe had an answer. “How’s this: if you lose, when we go out in Bloomington next week, at a time of my choosing, you have to stand up on a table and sing ‘You Oughta Know’ at the top of your lungs. And I’m recording it.”
“NO WAY!”
“YES WAY!”
“I hate that fucking song!” Tal was laughing.
“I know – but I also know you’ve memorized the lyrics! What, is singing it in public too embarrassing to think about? How do you think I feel about my poor mother seeing me tickle tortured on video?”
Talia held CeCe’s stare for several more beats as Meredith smiled, pleased at the fun and competitive turn this had taken. But it never took Talia long to rise to a challenge…
“Okay Ce, you’re on!”
***
...to be continued
This cuts off about a third of the way through the full story; of course, the rest covers what Meredith does our poor newbie heroes.
I'm considering building a series based around these characters and their various adventures.
Would love some feedback...thanks!
-Q.
