Full Circle Ch. 04: Discovery

There's enough background embedded in this story that it can be read alone, though you'll appreciate the context more if you read Chapters 1-3. Thank you D.E and F.M. for your input. Enjoy!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter Four

Discovery

Sylvia Bianchi was born as a third-generation daughter into a prosperous Italian family who lived in Glen Ridge, an affluent New Jersey suburb that was less than an hour train ride from downtown Manhattan. The youngest of three, she was always beautiful, but thought of her beauty as a distraction instead of something to be proud of. She was tall and lanky as a teenager and filled out her voluptuous curves in her early 20's. Her first love was anything on two or four wheels, a male dominated passion if there ever was one. She tried to hide her curvy body behind grimy coveralls and had her long mane of dark wavy hair tucked under a baseball cap. But everyone she met could see behind the façade of baggy clothes and smears of black grease to the natural beauty within, so Sylvia learned at an early age to fend off unwanted attention.

Although Glen Ridge was mostly a bedroom community to New York City, there was a large industrial park nearby that housed a number of high-end auto restoration shops. Sylvia's father owned one of them, and it was there that she and her two older brothers learned their craft. She always wanted to be a mechanic, went to trade school instead of college and interned in her father's shop. Her older brother Giovanni had a friend whose father owned the White Feather Gas-N-Go, and when the father decided to sell, Gio and his sister went 50-50 partners on the purchase, with Gio providing the lion's share of the funds.

Sylvia ran the lakeside gas station and repair shop since she was twenty-five, and in the five years that she and her brother owned it, they transformed it from a sleepy backwater service station into the area's premier luxury auto repair. Somerset County had no shortage of people like Elaine Harris, wealthy afficionados of expensive cars. Geraldo, Elaine's driver, like all of his peers, did business with Sylvia, the mechanic to Somerset County's rich and famous.

Syl was never shy about expressing her opinion and always felt she was right (which she often was). When Elaine dropped into her life she had fallen out of love with her girlfriend over a year before and was so busy with her business that she truly didn't have the time or the inclination to find someone else. It wasn't to say that she didn't crave companionship or love, but those needs took a back seat to building a bustling business and doing something she loved.

And sex? When her raging teenage hormones finally made her explore her sexuality she found she only wanted to be with women, although it seemed to always be men chasing her. To her sex was an activity, a fun one at that, but not a lifestyle and certainly not a consuming passion. That passion was reserved for exotic cars. Little did she know that she possessed a seething cauldron of desire—a submissive streak to be unearthed, nurtured and exploited. Elaine was the perfect person to explore Syl's latent submissiveness and had already given Syl a tantalizing glimpse of her true self.

* * *

Syl kissed Elaine on the lips when she saw the approaching headlights of the Tesla service truck. It was time for Elaine to leave the White Feather Pump-N-Go service station and rescue her disabled car and for Syl to reenter her own world. The young dark-haired beauty settled back behind her office desk; a relic that had probably been there since the station opened in 1958. The green Steelcase desk was covered with dog eared copies of service manuals for all makes and models of exotic cars, though Syl had developed a well-earned reputation for servicing and restoring older Ferraris. She loved their naturally aspirated engines, free revving and emitting an exhaust note of pure sex.

She swept aside some bills she'd been meaning to pay for some time and put her feet on the desk, watching Elaine, dressed in Syl's oil-stained canary yellow Valvoline sweatshirt and tattered jeans, get into the passenger seat of the van. Elaine was a beautiful elegant woman but at that moment she was definitely slumming it. Syl waved back to Elaine as the truck drove past the office's large street-facing window.

Syl took a deep breath and reflected on the events of the previous night. She already had a lot on her plate and dropped everything when Elaine showed up in her life less than ten short hours before. Syl felt as if she was hit with a whirlwind, and that whirlwind was named Elaine Harris.

At that point, Syl didn't know virtually anything about Elaine. She had only gleaned tidbits of information from less than an hour of late-night conversation. Elaine was tight lipped about her background, only telling Syl that she was a business executive who was about to retire and sell her business to her partners, sell her New York City apartment and retire to her Somerset County horse farm. Syl was told that Elaine had just celebrated her 50^th birthday the previous evening at her country estate hosting a gala featuring a live band and over a hundred guests in black tie. What should have been a festive event was marred by Elaine's long coming break-up with Rae after a three-year relationship.

Syl didn't know that Elaine was one of the country's most successful female executives, providing capital to start-up companies, and also didn't know that Elaine's so-called apartment was really the penthouse of a prestigious forty-two story building adjoining Central Park. But the most important thing Syl didn't know was that Elaine was once a well-known Domme in Manhattan and still owned a BDSM-themed club, The Power Exchange, in Chelsea. Elaine had taken a three-year hiatus from being a Domme while she was seeing Rae, who wasn't interested in that lifestyle.

Despite Elaine's worry that Sylvia may have heard about her "hobby" as a Domme from Geraldo or some other person who was familiar with Elaine's dark side, her fears weren't warranted. Sylvia never cared for or sought out gossip and wasn't aware of any of the details of Elaine's personal life, and certainly nothing about Elaine's life as a Domme. As far as Sylvia knew, Elaine was a highly skilled lover. She didn't realize orgasm denial was one the tricks of Elaine's trade. Even hours later, the evidence of Syl's excitement was still seeping out of her pussy.

Syl took her feet off the desk and felt a stickiness in her panties. It only took her a second to realize that Elaine had done that to her. Syl thought about the previous night, seeing Elaine for the first time as a desperate traveler, walking more than a mile through thickly wooded road in an indecently short red cocktail dress and old tennis shoes that were about to fall apart. Within an hour Elaine had managed to charm Syl with her sophistication and intelligence, and by early morning they were in bed, having the best sex of Syl's young life.

For all of that good that literally fell into her lap, she still felt unsettled, suspecting there was more to the tall blonde than she let on. Of course there was an explanation, but Syl had no life experience to know the road her submissive tendencies would take her down. She didn't even understand the term "submissive" or anything else about Elaine's world.

The morning sun was streaming in though the plate glass windows and the weather seemed perfect, with just a slight chill in the air. Syl figured that Elaine would be back in about an hour and wondered how she was going to handle the rest of her day. She had promised delivery of a red Ferrari Testarossa to one of her best customers and was hesitant to cancel since she had already delayed delivery once due to a back ordered part. She wondered how she'd take care of this delivery and at the same time pay attention to Elaine.

Syl eyed the stack of unpaid bills that cried for immediate attention. She forced herself to start the check writing process, hoping that Elaine would show up to rescue her from this tedious chore. She was writing her last check when her eyes caught a glimpse of a black Tesla making a right turn into her station. Her heart started beating faster when she saw Elaine's smiling face as she parked the car in front of one of the service bays.

Elaine came into the office all smiles. "It's all fixed," she happily declared. Syl noticed that the wall mounted clock said 11:15.

Syl rose up from behind the desk and gave Elaine a peck on her cold, rosy cheek. "So what's your plan?"

"I've got some ideas."

"Like what?"

"Like I could stick around here today while you get your work done and maybe you could take a couple days off and come to the City with me. I can arrange to have you taken back here whenever you'd like. I think you'd enjoy seeing my apartment before I sell it."

"But you know the other reason I'd like you to come with me." Elaine said with a sparkle in her eye.

"My sense of fashion?" Syl asked.

"Is naked a fashion statement?"

"Elaine, I told you that you're a real slut. And I guess I mean that as a compliment."

"I think it is. Syl, you showed some real slut-like tendencies yourself, like when you asked me to fuck your ass with my finger."

"OK, point taken."

"So are you going to come with me?"

Syl was amazed she was actually thinking about Elaine's offer. She had a couple other projects that needed to be wrapped up that week and the station had to be looked after. Syl did have potential help, but she'd have to ask for a big favor from her brother Gio, who had filled in for her in a pinch in the past.

With Elaine watching her thinking, Syl finally said, "If I can work out something with my brother. And I'm going to have to deliver a car today, so I won't be ready till late afternoon, because I have to get it ready. It'll take a couple hours to finish what I need to do and then a couple hours for me to flatbed the car there and then come back."

"Where's the delivery?"

"Towards the City, about twenty miles from here."

"Why don't you drive the car there and I'll come a bit later with the Tesla? Then we can just continue on to the City."

"I'm not sure Carol will want me to drive her car."

"She's the owner?"

"Uh huh."

"Give her a call and ask her. All she can say is no."

"Let me call Gio first and if he says yes I'll call Carol."

"That sounds good. While you're doing that, can I go through your clothes and find something a little less . . . ". Elaine tugged on her baggy yellow sweatshirt to make her point.

"Trailer trashy?" Syl suggested.

"I wasn't going to say it."

"But you were thinking it."

"Actually I was thinking about how sexy you looked."

"Elaine."

"I can't help it."

Syl pushed Elaine towards the office's door. "You go through my clothes. Find something better. I should be done with my calls by the time you come back."

* * *

"So Sis, you serious about this Elaine person?" Gio asked.

Was she? "I don't know," she said when forced to come up with an answer.

"But it's serious enough for you to call me so you can take a couple days off to go to the City with her."

"That's true."

Gio took a more conciliatory tone, wanting to be supportive of her baby sister. "Hey, I'm happy for you. Syl, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"Are you saying I look like Shelly Duval?" Syl asked, playing along with Gio's reference to "The Shining."

"I'm saying you should go to New York. I'll cover for you."

"I love you," Syl said.

"I know," said Gio. "Now you go and enjoy your new adventure."

* * *

Syl went back to her cabin, finding Elaine flicking through hangers in her closet. Some clothes were thrown on the bed.

Elaine stopped when she heard Syl come into the cabin. "So how did your calls go?"

"Good. Gio said he'll cover for me and Carol said it's fine for me to drive her car."

"That's great. What do you think about what I've picked out so far?"

Syl scanned the clothes on the bed and pointed. "That dress was something I wore last year. It's the best thing I have and it might fit you."

"It does," said Elaine, holding up the simple powder blue dress against her body.

"Then sure. What about shoes? What size do you wear?"

"7."

"I'm 7.5," said Syl. "So have you already gone through all my shoes?"

"I have," said Elaine, somewhat sheepishly. "I think these heels that match the dress fit me."

Syl looked at the high heels Elaine was holding. She rolled her eyes.

"I bought them to go with the dress but I couldn't manage to walk in them. I never wear heels."

"Well they fit me."

"You can have them."

Elaine took off the bright yellow Valvoline sweatshirt and tattered jeans and replaced them with the blue dress and matching heels. She admired herself in the full-length mirror on the wall and then did a full spin for Syl.

"What do you think?" Elaine asked.

"It looks better on you than it did on me."

"I might as well put on some make-up. Do you have any?"

"Not much, but what I have is yours." Syl went into the bathroom and pointed to one of the cabinet drawers. "Everything's in here. Help yourself. I'm going to prep the Ferrari for Carol."

"Sounds good," said Elaine, not knowing that "Carol" was Carol Shelton, a woman she met once, five years ago.

* * *

Carol Shelton was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Unlike Elaine's humble beginnings, Carol was born in Greenwich Connecticut to a mother who was a socialite of note with old family money and a father was a partner in a prominent New York City law firm. The short story was that although she was gay, she was pressured into a marriage with a successful fund manager, Bill Shelton, who coincidentally worked with Elaine on a couple of deals. He was a lech and serial philanderer. After twenty years of a shit marriage (and fortunately no children), Carol walked away with a $50 million divorce settlement.

Part of her new fortune was spent on a house in the country that rivalled Elaine's main residence in size and grandeur. Another significant chunk was spent on her exotic car collection. Carol indulged her sexual fantasies and as a plus size woman with a fantastic body she had no shortage of partners. Carol always lived on the wild side, and while she was in New York she dabbled in the BDSM scene. Living in the country limited the options of the oversexed bleach blonde.

Carol met Elaine once, five years previous, at the Power Exchange. Then, Elaine was actively running the club on the weekends. She always kept submissives at her Somerset County estate and enjoyed "auditioning" new subs after hours at the Club. Carol went there for the first time with her friend Darla, a club member, not really knowing what to expect. When they entered the bar together Darla spotted one of her friends sitting at the bar and asked Carol to get a table. Carol watched from a distance and then found an empty table. Darla and her friend talked for a bit before the short, dark haired woman handed Carol a Manhattan, the same as what she was drinking.

"Ran into someone I know," Darla said, swirling the cherry by its stem in her dark bronze colored booze.

"I could see that."

"Sorry, just some club business."

Carol's curiosity was piqued. She took a short draw from her drink and gave Darla a look of approval about her choice of beverage. "What about?"

"It's nothing you'd be interested in," Darla said before she plucked the cherry off the stem with her red painted lips and sucked it into her mouth.

"Try me," said Carol. She was bored and looking for something audacious to do and this seemed like the place to do it.

Darla took a sip off her drink and then sighed. "All right. You know, the club owner . . ."

"Elaine . . ." Carol interrupted, perhaps too eager.

"Right. She bought a new cat o'nine tails and she's looking for someone who wants to try it out with her."

"You mean like someone to be whipped?"

"Uh huh."

Carol shivered when Darla talked about a real-life flogging . . . picturing it was her . . . her hands bound together, being whipped on her back and buttocks, begging for mercy and receiving none.

"I'd like to try that," Carol said earnestly to her friend, the visual fresh in her mind. The thought of it happening to her made her blood boil.

Darla laughed and then drained the dregs of her drink. She signaled the bartender for two more.

"No you won't."

Carol forced a laugh. "I will."

"Carol. Do you even know what a cat o'nine tails is?"

"Uh huh," Carol said. She actually wasn't sure. She didn't fool Darla.

"Carol, Elaine is good at what she does. She's the best. It'll hurt."

Carol took a deep breath, daredevil that she was, and flung herself off the edge of the proverbial cliff. "I want it to. I've thought about it. Final answer."

* * *

Darla came back to the table with two fresh drinks. She put Carol's fourth one next to her third one, which was half empty. Carol was already a bit wobbly and feeling no pain (yet).

"You're going to need this," Darla said, pointing to the new drink.

"What's Elaine like?" Carol finally asked.

Darla let out a long laugh and then looked at her watch.

"Look. It's almost one and that's when the club officially closes. She'll expect you to be outside her office door, on your knees and naked. Do you know how to present?"

"Of course I do," Carol said indignantly, trying to scowl. Of course she had no idea what Darla was talking about, but did understand the part about taking her clothes off.

"We've only got a minute. Elaine is the smartest, richest, most beautiful woman I've ever met and she owns this club, but besides that she's got nothing. You'll find out the rest soon."

"OK. I get it. I'm getting an audience with the Queen and she going to use my ass for a royal beating."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Elaine left her small office inside the Power Exchange at precisely 1 a.m., there to find Carol Shelton nude and on her knees and her friend Darla standing next to her. Elaine didn't recognize Carol, but admired her courage in volunteering to be flogged. Elaine moved Carol's shoulders into the proper position and used that opportunity to touch Carol's large heavy breasts. Elaine used her high heel to kick Carol's knees wider.

"You're a lovely woman. What's your name?"

"Carol."

Elaine turned to Darla. "Did you teach her to present?"

"No Mistress Elaine," Darla answered.

"So you're Carol's friend?"

"Yes, Mistress Elaine."

"Darla, why don't you run along. This might take a while. I'll be sure to get Carol home, OK?"

"Will you be all right?" Darla asked Carol.

"I'll be fine," her friend assured her.

"OK then." Darla left, leaving Elaine and Carol in an empty club.

"Well Carol, who taught you how to present?" Elaine asked.

"Uh . . . no one."

Elaine sighed. "That's pretty obvious. Do you have any experience with this sort of thing?"

"No. Not really."

"You do know what a cat is."

"I think so . . . it's some kind of whip?" Carol guessed.

Elaine laughed. "It's a very special type of whip. The one I just got is an antique. It was used by the Royal Navy back in the 1800's to discipline their wayward seamen. It's been restored of course, but it'll give you an authentic experience."

Elaine went back to her office to retrieve the whip. She held it by its carved wood handle, bending over to look Carol in the eye.