From Jeannie to Vanessa Ch. 07

"This is Jeannie? Holy crap man, she looks so different, and I don't just mean the killer heels either. Something about you is different, girl. Seriously. But it looks good. You look good. Ow!"

Siller recoiled from the jab in the kidney delivered by his girlfriend sitting beside him.

I laughed. "Well thanks, Siller, I think. Hi Nicole, how are YOU doing?"

"Pretty good, except I'm still stuck with Silly here." She grinned back.

"Siller, girl, rhymes with killer, you know? Don' be messin' with my rep!"

Everybody laughed.

I looked at Nicole with new interest. We had met a few times, even double-dated once. But like Jack and Siller both said, I was different now.

Where Siller was very dark, not purple-dark like some African students I had met, but still pretty dark, Sarah was almost deep copper-colored.

She had her brown hair in a loose curly perm, a style that Whitney Houston had made popular that year. She was also slender and athletic-looking. I thought I remembered that she was a track & field star in high school and had continued running in college, maybe at the intramural level.

I realized that maybe I was looking too long, or too weird, or something, when she caught my eye and smiled warmly back and then looked away. Oh my God, was this the way I was going to be? Finding something erotic under every rock? Yeah, probably, I thought smugly. Vanessa's come a long way since "plain Jeannie!"

"Jack, I need to go to the bathroom, and then I need to get on the road. Believe it or not, I am supposed to do a little studying before Monday raises its ugly head."

Nicole chimed in. "Me too, I need to go, one of you studs guard the door please."

Jack cleared the bathroom and then took first watch, and Nicole and I went inside.

I headed for the single private toilet stall first. Nicole continued talking.

"You know, you do look different, Jeannie. I don't know what it is, exactly, but it does look good. You look happy, and...sexier somehow. Like Siller said, it's not just the heels, and the seamed hose, although they do look pretty hot. I did notice, however, that you don't appear to be wearing a bra under that blouse, although you are wearing something. Bravo to you, whatever works.

"One more thing...I heard you guys had a fight, but that you made up. Is that right?"

"Yes," I replied, "it was pretty bad, but we worked through it, and I think we're stronger for it now." I was sorting out my skirt as I was coming out of the toilet stall, not thinking clearly I guess.

Nicole's eyes got wide. "What the hell, Jeannie, are you OK?" She exclaimed.

Oh shit. Nicole had seen the garter stockings and the whip marks on the front and inside of my upper thighs.

"Oh, I'm fine, it's just a little game Jack and I were playing."

"'Little game,' huh? I have half a mind to go in there and have a 'little word' with your abuser. What the fuck is going on?"

"Nicole, seriously, I'm fine." I looked her in the eye. "I wanted this. Understand me? I'm not self-destructive, I don't hurt myself on purpose, I'm not sick or crazy, Jack is not sick or crazy. This is all fully consensual. Got it?"

She looked at me for a long moment, her almond-shaped eyes flashing and her mouth in a tight line. "OK. If you insist. But I'm going to be paying attention. Here, let me write down my phone number."

She pulled a pen and pad from her handbag and wrote it down quickly.

"You know I have my own apartment. You can talk to me, you can even stay with me, if you need to. You know what I'm sayin'?" Her voice rose a little. "Don't you dare let some son of a bitch talk you into taking his BULLSHIT because you have nowhere to go, or nobody to talk to. You hear me?"

I nodded and took the number.

Her eyes and tone softened a little. "Jeannie, you are truly a beautiful girl. Inside and out. I know you care for Jack, but guys can get pretty pushy when they think they have you all tied up, whether it's a steady thing or an engagement or even marriage.

"Don't you ever feel that you have to "settle" for a relationship that is full of abuse of any kind, much less physical abuse. I've seen it. And I know how hard it is to walk away from a 'sure thing.' So keep your head on straight, and call me - anytime, day or night - if you need to talk. Your confidence is safe with me, I promise."

"Thanks, Nicole, I appreciate it. And I appreciate your concern. But seriously, I've got this, you don't need to worry about it."

"OK then. You're a big girl. But you keep my number, OK? Feel free to talk to me about anything."

"I will, Nicole, and thanks."

We opened the door of the bathroom. Jack, who had been guarding the door, looked at us a little curiously, but said nothing.

"Jack, can you help me get my things to the car?"

"Sure, Jeannie. And we have a few items in my car that I need to give you."

We collected my suitcase and makeup bag and walked out to the parking lot. I grimaced a little at the looks and attention I got, now just wanting to hide since enduring Nicole's reaction.

Jack finally said, "Are you OK, darling?"

I told him what had transpired in the bathroom with Nicole.

"Whew," he finally said, "that's not so great. I would hate for someone to report us to the authorities, or even our parents. We might have a little difficulty explaining ourselves, and I'm sure we would encounter a lot of resistance, particularly from YOUR parents. Perhaps we've been moving too fast."

I looked up at him as we walked. "Jack, I know you're right. But just so you know, I like where we are going. I'm happy, I feel wonderful, I don't feel abused. But I guess we have to be careful, our kind of love has to stay private."

We reached his car. "We need to get all the stuff out of my car and carry it to your car. You know, the pants and shoes we bought on Saturday and all the stuff Marguerite gave us."

"All the stuff?" I lowered my voice. "Including the whip?"

"No, I'll keep those. But all the clothes. You need to try them on, get familiar with them. Wash them of course."

So we added to our load the items from Jack's car. Fortunately, my little Chevy was not far. These heels were not made for beasts of burden!

At my car, after packing away all the items we had acquired, Jack suggested we sit in the car for a few minutes.

Inside, with the windows rolled down a little for air, he wanted to talk some more.

"Vanessa, you've got to digest some of this. I have to digest some of this. Think where we were Friday - just two days ago! We almost came apart. And since then, you got me to whip you, and then there was Marguerite and everything that happened with her, and then there was my reaction to it this morning.

"It occurred to me later, that your safeword was worthless if you were gagged. Did you think about using it this morning?"

I lowered my head. "Yes, when you pulled me down on your cock. I was bewildered. I had been so hot in the car, and your tying me up and gagging me made me hotter. Even the whipping did. It just suddenly became all too much, when you pulled me down on you. I knew with one part that there had to be a reason, a justification, for why you were treating me so roughly, and I think I knew in my heart what it was. But in another part I was scared."

He reached over and took my hand. "It scared me too. I thought I was losing control. I thought about wanting to hurt you. I don't like feeling that way. We've moved so fast - the experience with Marguerite was fun, and educational, and I don't regret any of it. And, I promised she could train you. But I guess I got scared that maybe I would lose you to her. What a strange feeling, to be jealous of a woman! But it was real, and I think you know it too."

I nodded. "I enjoyed sex with her. She taught me that I could like having sex with another woman. And I know she wants me, but I'm yours. That's never going to change. OK?"

"OK." He responded simply. "Now, to at least make me feel better, show me you can make the Vulcan sign. You know, from Star Trek."

"What? That was some weird change of subject." I displayed the famous "V" sign by separating the four long fingers on each hand.

"Oh, I get it. Safeword."

"Yep. Same deal. You can use it any time you want to stop the action. Same consequences. You have to explain yourself, and the explanation better be good, or there could be punishment."

I remembered the last time we had this discussion, when we established my "crawdad" safeword, I had wondered what that meant. Now I knew.

"So if I use one of my safe-symbols to stop you whipping me, and you're not happy with the reason, you might whip me?"

"Well, yes, that could be a punishment. Or it could be something else. Like denial of orgasm or making you wear something really uncomfortable, or...something. I don't know! I'm just as new to this as you are!"

We both laughed, and hugged, and the hug became something else, as his lips sought mine.

Finally we broke apart.

"OK, now for serious stuff. Just because you are going back to school doesn't mean you are free of obeying me. I want you to start keeping a journal of what you eat and how you exercise. I want you to try to do aerobics or something cardio-related at least two or three times a week. I want you to wash and try on all the clothes, and at least try on a pair of the open crotch pantyhose.

"And I want you to get used to wearing your new shoes, particularly the ones Marguerite gave us. I really like the way those look on you!

"And you know, I'm going to go to sleep tonight thinking about 'parading' you on our wedding day. Wow!"

I knew I would go to sleep thinking about that too.

He got out of the car too soon, I thought, but I knew it was time to leave.

"I love you, Vanessa!" He called through the open window.

"I love you too, Jack." And I reluctantly drove away.

-to be continued-