Grace Ch. 06

I pick up the phone tentatively and whisper into it, "Hello?"

"Good evening Grace, I'm so sorry to bother you so late. Kathy said she had the feeling that you were awake."

"I...actually am" I respond, feeling a bit taken aback but also relieved to talk to someone I didn't have any drama with.

"How is the tattoo healing and did you get your package?"

"It's healing perfectly, and I did. Thank you so much. But why didn't you write your name on it?"

"I knew you'd know it was from me."

I smile, "Well, thank you for it, and for the...leather."

I'm still not sure if this is supposed to be worn as a bracelet. Surely, he wouldn't send me a collar.

"You're most welcome. So, Grace, I wanted to ask if you might like to meet in person again."

"Yes," I reply, perhaps too quickly. But the truth is that Richard feels safe right now. I'm caught in a lie with Brad, and Nicole is angry with me. Richard honestly feels like the only person in my life right now who actually cares about how I feel and what I want.

"How about right now?"

"What?"

"You said you were awake. Kathy and I are also awake and we would like to invite you to come over now, if you'd like."

"You now what," I say, my frustration with Nicole and Brad coming to a head, "I would love that. I'm on my way."

-

Number 49 Picnic Road is as beautifully new as it was just a few short days ago. Had it only been a few days ago that I'd met Richard and Kathy? Richard already seemed like an old friend, he'd given me my first tattoo, and here I was driving to his house at one in the morning for emotional support. This friendship was moving faster than any relationship I'd ever had.

The front door gently swung open as I approached and Kathy beams at me, looking beautiful in a flowing, black night dress that matches her flowing, black hair.

"Did you sense I was coming?" I joke.

"Yes," she laughs, "but I also saw your car pull up."

She gives me a wink and ushers me inside. I take off my shoes, noticing how my pink toenails look childish next to Kathy's French pedicure. She leads me into the modern living area. I can see elements of the décor have been borrowed from Richard's tattoo studio.

Richard sits on one of the plush white sofas and Kathy and I join him.

"So what brings you here?" asks Richard.

I laugh at his question, "You invited me?"

"You accepted. Why?"

"I dunno. I'm just having a rough time."

"Tell me what's going on."

And so I do. I tell them all about what happened with Brad and how crappy it feels to be fighting with Nicole and it feels good, so very good, to get it off my chest.

"That sounds really difficult," Kathy consoles, rubbing gentle circles onto my back.

Her touch feels exquisite.

Richard nods in agreement.

"I just feel better being with you," I admit, the truth of it washing over me. "I feel like you care."

Kathy embraces me and I lay my head on her chest, breathing in the fresh scent of her hair. I feel pressure from behind and Richard is hugging me too, the two of them enveloping me in a way that makes me feel incredibly secure. If people like this exist in the world, maybe everything will be alright.

"We do care about you, Grace," Richard assures. We've felt invested in you since we first met you."

I blush as the remark, feeling noticed.

"Why do you think I'm so special?" I ask, suddenly brave.

"One day I hope to show you the answer to that question," Richard replies, somewhat mysteriously.

"On the third floor?" Kathy asks Richard, and he gives her a half smile.

"What's on the third floor?" I ask.

Richard takes Kathy's hand. "The upper floor is reserved for a special kind of play. Only Kathy and myself as well as a few special guests are permitted access."

"What kind of play?" I press, suspecting something more complicated than board game nights.

"Grace, have you ever heard of BDSM?"

My heart beat quickens. Is that what they are doing upstairs with collars? Hurting one another? But surely not truly doing harm. God damn it, Bethany. Why do your stupid mistakes stick in my mind so persistently that I can't even think about something thrilling without being washed in panic?

"I've heard about it in my Women's and Gender Studies classes in college. We learned about different kinks and fetishes."

"Ah," Richard responds, "but there is so much more to it than kinks and fetishes, so much depth that you can't imagine"

I stare, now utterly captivated by this information. After all, how much more can there be?

"In...in a good way?" I ask, nervously.

"In a beautiful, way." Kathy replies with a sincere smile.

"I have to confess something," say tentatively, I have their full attention now. "I've been tied up before."

"Go on," Kathy urges.

"It didn't go well."

"I see," Richard seems to conclude, "Well it's certainly not for everyone."

"No," I almost cut him off, "It's not that. It was being left alone. "

"Oh darling," coos Kathy. "No one should have left you alone. That explains it."

"Explains what?" I ask.

"The intense aura of pain and fear radiating from you, my dear. You've been hurt in the past and you're afraid of being hurt again."

I stare. Maybe Kathy really is psychic, because she reads me like a book.

"I want to see the upper floor," I blurt with a sudden rush of courage.

"When you're ready, certainly."

"I am ready," I argue, "You said there's more to it and I want to learn."

I tell myself that this is true and fight back the feeling of anxiety over exactly what I may be getting myself into. I remind myself that I am young and sexual and bright, so if there are aspects to sexuality that I don't know about, then surely they're worth learning. And it's just looking into a room, It's not like I'm going to be tied to a wall and beaten.

Richard and Kathy glance at once another and Kathy smiles, broad and genuine in my direction.

"Let's show her," she says to Richard, "I feel that she is, in fact, ready."

"I always trust your judgement, my love," Richard say, and kisses her hand.

They stand and beckon me to follow them, leading me away from the living area and up the flights of carpeted stairs. I climb slowly behind them, aware of each soft footstep. My mind is racing. I don't want to think of all of the things that could go wrong or my past or Bethany but of course that's where my anxious mind drifts.

Richard keeps leading us upstairs and Kathy hangs back, walking at my side and taking my hand in hers.

"You're safe," she says, "this is a beautiful space where Richard and I explore each other's energy have fun together."

Kathy's voice soothes me, and her grip on my hand is firm and comforting.

We reach the door at the top of the stairs and Richard removes a small silver key from his pocket and unlocks it. Kathy lets my hand drop down and I follow them inside.

The room is nothing short of breathtaking. The floor is shining hardwood and deep red cloth tapestries accent the gray walls. Lights hidden behind ceiling panels paint the room in a soft, warm glow. A four-poster bed adorned in matching red bedding is the room's most prominent feature and a large metal ring hangs from the ceiling just above it.

On the walls there is a large sofa that looks relatively normal and two more pieces of furniture that I have never seen before including a large wooden cross and a two-tiered leather-padded bench. My heart races. I'm overwhelmed with curiosity, excitement, and nervousness all at the same time. What if they really do hurt one another in here. What if it's exactly like Bethany?

On one wall I notice a row of hanging implements, including canes and riding crops like the one's I've seen on my mother's stables. But these are, I'm guessing, for people. I think I may have stepped into a terrible mistake or maybe ever a trap. I take a step back towards the door, putting my hand behind my back and grasping the handle behind my back.

"It's okay to feel nervous, Grace," says Kathy, her voice ever calming, "But remember that it is only a room. We can go back downstairs if you'd like."

"We can stay here," I say, "but can we just...talk?"

"Of course," says Richard.

"I don't understand how all of this," I gesture to the black leather, red fabric, wood, and metal, "can be called beautiful."

Kathy nods, understanding, "These theatrics, they're only tools with which we find our headspace. What is beautiful is the space we create in our minds and in our hearts when we allow ourselves to be present. But not everyone has the ability to be open enough with another and, more importantly with themselves, to reach that state of presence."

"But you think that I do," I assume, letting my hand drop slowly from it's grip on the door knob.

"I do," she confirms.

"We do," Richard adds. "Especially, after I saw how you did in the tattoo studio. You were incredible."

"I was?" My body relaxes a little and a take a step away from the door.

"You impressed me."

Richard and Kathy move to the red sofa and she sits nestles under the crook of his arm. I take a few steps towards them and then sit on the couch next to them. Kathy puts her arm around me and I lay on her chest.

"What else did you want to talk about?" Richard asks.

I look around, taking in the strange details of the room once again, "I just want to know what all you do in here."

"Thriling, mind-opening things Grace. Things that would put the euphoria of getting your tattoo to shame. Experiences of the highest ecstasy and transcendence. And, when you're ready, we will happily show you."