Breaking My Own Rules Ch. 08

Stimulation: tickling, feathers, spanking/hand, spanking/paddle, cropping, flogging, whipping, caning, strapping, electrostimulation, other

Pet Play: puppy, pony, kitten, furniture, other

Furniture: spanking bench, swing, stocks, cross, bondage bed, suspension rack

Sexual contact (private rooms only): cunnilingus, fellatio, vaginal intercourse, anal intercourse, strap-ons, double penetration, triple penetration, polyamorous activity, other

I was feeling utterly overwhelmed by the time I got to the end of the list. I thought I had gained some idea about BDSM from my research, but the thought of most of these things happening to people in public rooms, well, in front of members, anyway, was mind-boggling. I went down the list checking off the stuff I was willing to do. It was a pretty short list. Then I went back and considered what might fit into soft limits. Absolutely no gags, but blindfold and ear plugs didn't seem so bad. Rope and handcuffs, maybe. I mean, that had been kinda hot with him. But chains? Ewww. Being tied up hadn't seemed too bad, but hogtied? No way. And breasts and nipples just sounded painful, not pleasurable. I didn't know what CBT or Rope Art was but I didn't think I wanted to have anything to do with either one. And if genitals meant clamps, you could sure count me out, though that rope with the knots had been... interesting. I decided to put hard limit on that one just in case. Tickling and feathers didn't seem so bad, and even spanking was a little erotic. Well, and looking back on it, the crop and the flogger I could imagine being arousing, if it wasn't too hard or for too long. I wrote in 'not too hard' on the lines next to those activities and then checked soft limit. Everything else was a hard no in that category. Same with Pet Play. If I wanted to be treated like a dog, I could just go to work. That was, if I still had a job when I called in with another unexcused absence. I was also pretty sure I wasn't interested in any of the furniture after my experience with Dr. Tom's spanking bench. As for the sexual contact, if it involved more than one person to cope with at a time, I was real sure it wasn't for me.

I put Randy's paperwork aside. As if that was what she was waiting for, DeDe quit fussing around in the kitchen and came over to sit by me. "How are you doing? Are you going to be okay, tonight? Because you can sleep in with me if you want."

"What about Maurice?" I asked.

"When you work as a bouncer, you sleep during the day," he assured me. "I'm good."

"Oh, no! Are you missing work to be here?"

"It's covered," he said with a tone that clearly read 'End of conversation.'

"This just gets better and better," I muttered.

"It will. I promise," DeDe said. "Do you want to watch TV or something? I've got Netflix, too, if you'd rather watch a movie. I usually go to bed early 'cause I have to be to work by six."

I settled for a movie and she showed me how to bring it up and assured me I could select whatever I wanted. So now I had the rental fee to add to my growing debt, but at least it whiled away a few hours, and when I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed after the movie, I came back to find that Maurice had set up the hide-a-bed for me.

****

The next day had been pure torture. I borrowed Maurice's cell phone to call in and tell the boss I couldn't make it. Even though he seemed to have developed a weird infatuation with me, he was definitely getting grumpy about all the missed days. Then I spent most of the rest of the day itching to hop on my phone or computer. Maurice had pulled a chair over by the front window and was dozing in it, I swear with one eye open and on the street. DeDe's apartment was spotless, so I couldn't even find anything to clean for her. Eventually, I watched another movie, and when DeDe got home from work, she had stopped to pick up an ample supply of wine. I figured we were going to need it.

We both sat on the couch and watched the clock roll towards seven pm. Maurice wouldn't tell us what, if anything, he had been able to arrange with his cop buddy. It wasn't like they could get a warrant or something, so I had no idea what that left. At one point, I muttered, "Maybe I should just go there." I thought DeDe and Maurice were both going to beat me to a pulp, the way they jumped on me. I held my hands up in surrender and went back to trying to ease the tension with wine. When the clock hit seven, DeDe grabbed my hand and held it. I'm not sure what we expected to happen, but it was entirely anticlimactic. Maurice was watching the street vigilantly, apparently not as positive as Randy and DeDe that Dr. Tom wouldn't be able to find her place. DeDe checked her phone several times to see if there was any news from Randy, then finally went to start dinner, again turning down any help. I went to sit at the kitchen bar so I could at least watch her cook to have something to do.

It was eight o'clock before anything started to happen. I didn't hear Maurice's phone, but he pulled it from a pocket, glanced at the screen, then went out into the hall before answering it. A moment later, DeDe's phone beeped and she looked at the screen. "It's Randy," she said. "He says to save some dinner for him and he'll be here in about an hour."

"Nothing else?" I said, disappointed.

"I'm sorry," she shrugged. "I'm not even sure where he is."

When Maurice came back into the apartment, I jumped up and went to stand in front of him. "Well?" I asked.

He gazed down at me benignly, then gently moved me out of his way, so he could take up his stance at the window again. "When Randy gets here," he said. "Then we only have to go over it once."

I huffed and went back to my wine. I thought orgasm denial was torture. I was beginning to think that information denial was worse.

Randy's hour turned into an hour and a half. I was on my fourth or fifth glass of wine, which is not a good idea for a lightweight like me. When he came into the apartment, I scowled at him, even as DeDe ran to hug him. When he signaled Maurice and they both headed for the hall, I ran after them. "Hey, this is my life. I have a right to know what's going on," I argued, resisting the temptation to stamp my foot.

Randy folded his arms and looked at me sternly. "Sky, you need to have plausible deniability."

I gaped at him. "Plausible deniability about what?" I demanded.

Randy shook his head impatiently. "That would kind of defeat the purpose, now, don't you think?"

"I want to know what's going on," I protested.

Randy straightened, his eyes darkened, and he said in that low, quiet voice, "Sky, go back into the apartment."

Shit, he was pulling the Dom card on me. I glanced at Maurice, who offered me no support whatsoever. Then DeDe was there, pulling me back into the apartment. And I was letting her. She closed the door and leaned against it. "Sky, they're trying to protect you, to keep you safe. Let them. Come and help me put dinner on the table," DeDe said. That's how much she wanted to distract me. I sighed and followed her into the kitchen, retrieving my wine along the way.

A short time later, the men came back into the apartment. We all sat at the table. I was still sulking, draining yet another glass of wine. I held my glass out to DeDe for more and she glanced at Randy, who shook his head. "Oh, for crying out loud!" I exclaimed. "If you're not going to talk to me or let me get good and drunk, I might just as well go home." I started to rise from my seat, but Maurice grabbed one wrist and Randy reached across the table to grab my other.

"You're being childish," Randy said quietly in his Dom voice, and I was reminded of Dr. Tom right after he would decide I needed to be punished. I sat back down. Even DeDe looked pale and wide eyed.

"I'm sorry," I said with only minimal petulance. "Is my father okay?" I asked, trying to remind them of why I was feeling just a bit freaked out. Randy and Maurice exchanged glances.

"A request has been sent to the sheriff in his county to make frequent patrols by his place," Randy said. "We can only hope that they will honor the request."

"Please tell me what happened tonight," I begged.

Randy sighed. "I have it on good authority that his apartment was cleaned out."

"So he wasn't there waiting for me? He expected me not to come?" I asked, confused.

"My information indicates that the security camera feed was still being accessed, from a mobile device, probably a burner phone," Randy glanced at Maurice again, who gave a slight nod. "It was using a nearby cell tower. He was there, watching for you to arrive. Or he sent someone to watch for you."

I realized I was rocking in my chair and forced myself to stop. "So he knows I didn't show up," I said, barely above a whisper. "What did the text say would happen if I didn't show?" When Randy only looked at me, I blurted out, "Tell me or I'll turn the damn thing on and look for myself!" Maurice put his massive hand on my arm where it lay on the table.

"It said 'or your friends and family will suffer.' Sky, men like this are cowards," Randy assured me. "There's no reason to believe he would actually do anything. It was just a last ditch attempt to get you under his thumb again."

"This is a process," Maurice said. "We'll find him, or he will make a mistake and give us enough that the police will be able to get involved. You have to be patient."

I slipped free of Maurice's hand and jumped up to start pacing. "I can't stay here forever and you can't protect all my friends."

"You can stay here as long as you need to," DeDe said.

"I can't even go to work," I said waving my hands in the air. "How am I going to live?"

"Can the drama," Randy said sternly. "Listen to what we're telling you. It's going to be okay. Now if you two will excuse me, I'm going to see to it that my sub gets some exercise before I have to leave." DeDe ducked her head to hide her smile as Randy took her hand and led her to the bedroom. I watched them go, then reached for the wine bottle. Maurice beat me to it and held it out of my reach.

"You don't want to be hung over tomorrow," he advised, putting the wine away in the fridge. "That would spoil the fun at the dungeon."

"The what, where?" I spluttered.

He winked at me. "It's Saturday night, party night."

"But he was there," I protested.

"He won't be tomorrow, believe me. If he shows up on my watch, I'll see to it that he can never hurt sweet girls like you ever again. If your brother is Special Forces, that makes him my brother. And that makes you my sister. I take care of family."

I cleared the table and put the dishes in the washer, hoping DeDe wouldn't get mad at me. Then, with nothing else to do, I put another movie on and tried to make myself as small as possible in the corner of the couch, tucking my knees under my chin, doing my best to hold myself together and not think about how my whole life was coming unraveled. It was a couple of hours later when Randy came out of the bedroom. He walked over to me and glanced down at the floor at the end of the couch where my purse and my homework lay.

"Did you do your homework," he asked.

I paused the movie and shrugged. "I tried to. Some of that stuff..."

"May I look at it?" I nodded, though I was pretty sure I was blushing, too. Maurice seemed to be studiously ignoring us as Randy picked up the paperwork and sat down next to me. He glanced through it quickly and smiled. "Not that different from DeDe's. No wonder you two hit it off. May I show you something?"

"Okay," I said warily.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. It was a checklist, just like I had filled out. Except this one had virtually everything marked as 'Okay With.' He pointed to the name at the top of the sheet. Fred Thompkins, my Dr. Tom. "This was where he intended to take you, Sky. He never asked you where you wanted to go," he said, tapping the sheet I had filled out.

Something Dr. Tom had said, the one time he had treated me as a real person and not just his fuck toy came back to me. 'Sometimes you have to hit bottom before you realize that you've been falling. You can't become something else until you see yourself for what you are right now. I'm more than happy to take you all the way to the bottom. It's what I live for.' I shuddered.

"Thank you," I said to Randy.

"I didn't do this for you," he replied. "You have done it for yourself. You just need to keep on being strong. And the best way to be strong, is to accept help when it's offered. Okay?" I nodded. "Good. Then I'm going to go home and get some sleep."

"You're not staying," I asked.

He smiled his nerdy smile. "Have you seen my sub? Neither of us would get any sleep if I stayed. You get some sleep, too. It's going to be a long day tomorrow." After he left, Maurice threw the deadbolt, then returned to his vigil at the window. I put the movie back on, but I was asleep well before the end of it, curled in a ball on the couch.

****

The next day, Maurice reluctantly agreed to let me go out to buy a burner phone, with him hovering at my back the whole time. I couldn't even get on line long enough to find out the balance of my bank account, so I pretty much held my breath as they ran my debit card. Then we took the subway to some random station, where he let me turn on my old phone long enough to look up my dad's number. Seriously, who memorizes phone numbers anymore. No sooner had I turned it on than texts and voice mails popped up from my favorite doctor. I tried really hard not to look, handing it over to Maurice to check them out. He did so while I called my Dad. I don't remember feeling so happy to hear his voice. He, in his usual gruff way, was suspicious as to why I was calling. Maurice had warned me not to tell him about what was going on yet and I had no intention of trying to explain the peculiar man problem I was having and that he had been threatened. I settled for telling him I hoped to come visit sooner than usual this year. Like maybe next week when I ran out of money and job at the same time, was my thinking.

When I finished my phone call, and Maurice had texted Randy - I presumed - with the content of Dr. Tom's messages, we headed back to DeDe's. She had prepared a special lunch and I was really beginning to feel horrific for how much I was costing her. I even had the grace to feel guilty for the wine I'd consumed last night, though the headache had egged that guilt on.

After lunch, DeDe insisted on helping me dress for our excursion to the dungeon that evening. We went through the contents of my hurriedly packed suitcase and she threw her arms up in despair then took me to her closet and selected a stretchy dress for me. Mind you, she had a lot more curves to stretch it out with, but at least it didn't look absolutely awful on me, and once she had accessorized it and done my makeup for me, I actually considered myself passable, though I had no idea why it was so important to her that I was dressed just so. I fully intended to hide in that back office that Randy had taken me to. The last thing I wanted was some other Dr. Tom to replace the current one. Visions of the woman being caned kept flashing through my mind.

At six, we ate a light dinner, then the three of us took a taxi to the club. The club didn't open until nine, but Maurice had to be at work and I couldn't help but wonder if my doctor might be lurking somewhere, watching to see if I arrived at the club. I was both hoping an early arrival would beat him to the punch, and if not, I was immensely grateful for Maurice's presence. I couldn't help but look over my shoulder nervously, as we moved from cab to door. DeDe took my arm and led me back to the dungeon while Maurice paused to confer with the bouncers for the main floor club. I suddenly realized what Maurice had been trying to tell me last night. I felt safe here. I could literally feel myself relaxing the deeper we got into the building.

When we emerged from the elevator, the bartender looked up and smiled. He had been slicing lemons and preparing for the evening to come, but he wiped his hands and picked up a phone when he saw us. "They're here," he announced. Then he turned back to us. "Would you ladies like something?"

"Two Collins, please," DeDe said before I could speak. I was about to protest against the hard alcohol, till I realized he was just pouring the mixer over ice. It was surprisingly refreshing. DeDe pulled some papers out of her purse. "I brought, these, you know, just in case."

"Hmm?" I asked, then realized she was holding my checklist. "Oh, DeDe, I don't think..."

"Just so they're on file," she said with a wave of her hand. "It doesn't mean anything is going to happen."

The bartender was holding a pen out to me. "Just go ahead and sign and I will tuck them away for the future."

"I really can't afford a membership."

"You're officially Randy's guest. No membership needed." I took the pen and signed. Then took my drink and followed DeDe over to a nearby couch.

As I sat on the couch, she settled on her knees on a floor pillow. "Um, should I be kneeling?" I asked her.

She shook her head at me with a smile. "I kneel here because Randy, my master, likes to see me kneeling here. It pleases him. And that pleases me. You don't have a master to please." She gave me a warning glare as I was about to remind her about Dr. Tom. "Yet," she added with a smirk. She turned as Randy and another man entered the lobby from one of the halls. When he smiled at her, she jumped up and ran to hug him. I was pretty damn sure at this point that I wanted what they had.

It turned out that the man with Randy was the manager, or Dungeon Master, as Randy put it, named George. I wondered to myself if that was what he put on his resume. Even more surprising, it turned out that the Dungeon Master actually was a sub in a long-standing relationship. It astounded me that in such a brief conversation, such personal information could or would be revealed. Randy explained that in the lifestyle, communication was critical, hence the paperwork, the large comfortable lobby for people to sit and talk before they scene, and the natural inclination to ensure that misunderstandings don't occur, even at the level of simple introductions.

I asked Randy if I could use the back office for the evening. A puzzled frown flashed on his face but quickly vanished as I glanced in the direction of where Dr. Tom had appeared just a few nights ago. Randy grasped my wrist, which seemed to be his way of commanding my attention, like maybe when his Dom voice wasn't sufficient. "Sky, he won't be back here ever again. But if you get to feeling overwhelmed, you are welcome to use the office. George and the monitors come and go from that office all night, so it's not quiet, but quieter than out here will be. But I'd also like to see you enjoy yourself and meet some of my friends. Promise you'll give it a try?" DeDe was nodding vigorously.

"Okay," I said with a brave smile. "You'll be around? Or do you have to work?"

He gave a rueful smile. "I'm supposed to be a silent partner. You know, all fun and no work? But when a friend needs help, you bring all your resources to bear, and this is one of my resources. I'll be here when you need me.'

"Me, too," DeDe said.

I finished my Collins drink and Randy asked if I wanted some wine. I nodded, promising to ration my intake. When he went over to the bar, I turned to DeDe. "What if someone asks me to, you know..."

She shook her head. "That won't happen. Well, it's not supposed to happen. Etiquette says you assume that a sub has a master and you always talk to the master about such things. If Randy is here, they would ask him. If he isn't, they would ask the bartender if you had a master, and he would tell them you are under Randy's protection." I was wringing my hands nervously and she reached over to hold them. "Randy won't let you go anywhere with someone he doesn't know, and even if he knows them and feels they would respect your current vulnerability, he would ask you first."