Heart of Steel Ch. 02

"Come here, slave boy!" she barked, and Tristan crawled to her across the floor.

"Yes, Lady Jane?"

"Give me your hands!"

Tristan rose and held up his hands. From a nearby table, Lady Jane plucked a set of handcuffs. Turning him around, she locked his hands behind his back, and then forced him to face her again before demanding that he kneel and kiss her beautiful feet. Tristan did so diligently, thoroughly covering her soft feet with kisses whilst she made quiet sounds of contentment.

"Good boy." she hissed excitedly. "Come up here and sit in your mistress' lap."

Tristan rose and clambered into Lady Jane's lap, letting her hold his slender frame in her arms. And there it was! Not the whipping or the humiliation. (Though those were very enticing.) But being handcuffed, helpless, yet held so gently, so intimately, in the arms of one he knew would not hurt him (in this case because she was a professional), this sensation brought him the joy that his fantasies had brought him. He moaned lightly and snuggled into her embrace, and Lady Jane squeezed him tighter. For the rest of the session, she just cradled him in her arms, handcuffed as he was, letting him lean against her and even hugging him tightly when he started to quietly cry.

Tristan didn't know what exactly brought the tears, but they came gently. Ironically, in this situation, he felt much more free, free from his responsibilities, from his fears, from his future. Free to be himself, to cry when he wanted to, to be happy or sad as his emotions bid him. And that was truly freedom, truly peace. Tristan was undeniably aroused. Lady Jane let him free of the restraints after the session and gave him a gentle hug.

"I don't know what it is," she told him, "but that style of session and that look you have in your eyes, I can tell something troubles you very much. If these sessions really help you, feel free to come back any time."

"Thank you, ma'am." Tristan said, blushing as she tousled his hair playfully.

At home that night, Tristan was ecstatic with his discovery. His kinky sexuality was not wrong, was not at conflict with his fears and his past trauma. He had embraced this part of himself, with that sweet Lady Jane, and he was happy for it. But at $100 a session, he couldn't afford to be a regular with her. He'd have to work something out, have to find a way to see her for the catharsis she brought him: binding him and making him feel free and safe. He'd have to sort something out, but that was for another night. This night he drifted off to sleep with thoughts of his self-actualization, and of Maul.

Chapter 10: Between Two Hearts

Tristan did have nightmares, on occasion, vivid ones, flashbacks of what had happened or ominous and horrifying visions of a grim future involving those three girls. But even with those nightmares, he regretted not his trip to Lady Jane's Dominion. Amy thought that it was an interesting route to have taken, not what she'd had in mind, but if it made him happy, she couldn't very well tell him not to have done what he'd already done. And that session had given Tristan valuable insight into what made him feel happy and sexually fulfilled, which was always important information for anyone to have.

Maul continued to hang out with him throughout the next several weeks, and they grew very close very quickly, sharing innumerable interests beyond their passion for Heavy Metal. It was because of that quickly-gained closeness that Tristan invited Maul to spend the holidays with him at his parents' home in EAST Field, the small town about twenty minutes east of Pine Ridge.

"Wow, really?" Maul exclaimed with glee as they sat together in a local coffee shop. "I'd love that, Tristan. I hate spending the holidays with my grandparents."

"I can imagine." Tristan replied, having been more thoroughly detailed as to her grandparents' malignance. "My folks said it was fine if I wanted to bring a friend home to hang out for the holidays, so yeah, you're totally welcome to come."

"Great!" Maul chirped, squeezing his hand excitedly. "This will be so much fun!"

On December 20th, Tristan's father arrived to pick them both up from Tristan's apartment. Each had packed a bag for the few days surrounding Christmas. Though Tristan didn't celebrate the holiday, instead honoring the Nordic Yuletide, his parents still gave him gifts and welcomed his homeward return this semester. Both he and Maul stood outside the apartment, bundled up against the chill weather. When Tristan's father arrived, the two college students dove into the car frantically, desperate to escape the cold.

"Tristan!" his father greeted him. "How's life, son?"

"Great sir," Tristan answered, "I'm still working at that job I told mom about."

"Oh yeah, the record place, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Suits you."

His father, an older man, who was starting to lose his hair, was always in a good mood. He could get serious, even angry, but those always seemed such temporary states for him, more so than for anyone else. His emotions were like an elastic band, stretching to the point of seriousness or rage, but ultimately snapping back to that calm, good-humored ground that was their natural position. His father turned in his seat, before pulling out of the parking lot, to shake Maul's hand.

"So you're Molly?" he asked.

"I go by Maul, sir." she corrected politely.

"Oh right, I remembered it was something like that." his dad laughed. "I'm bad with names and such, but I can remember Maul."

"Glad to be memorable, sir."

This elicited a laugh from Tristan's father.

They drove for a while, just listening to the radio and to Tristan's father as he told Tristan of how his work was going. Inevitably though came the moment Tristan had been dreading, his father at last broached the unwanted question.

"How were your classes, son, did you do well?"

"Dad," Tristan spoke, knowing he couldn't avoid this forever and opting to get it over with, "I was dropped from all of my classes. During October, I didn't go to a single class because I was very stressed out, just uh... freaked out by being a first-year student, afraid I'd fail if I tried. So I stayed home, a lot, until I got myself into counseling to manage my stress, and I'm going to do much better next semester, I swear."

Tristan's dad was quiet, and Tristan hoped he bought the stress lie. Maul moved a little closer to Tristan, comfortingly or protectively. Either way, the gesture was welcome. At last, his father spoke.

"Thank you for being honest with me son." he said firmly. "But I sure wish you hadn't failed all of your classes. What will that do to your GPA?"

"Nothing," Maul chimed in, "he was dropped for absences, he didn't fail."

"Well, that's a plus," his father noted, "it really is. And it's good, responsible of you to go into counseling and to get a job, too."

"Thanks, Dad."

"I can't say I'm happy about this," his father replied, "but it could be a lot worse. Just do better next semester, or we'll have to seriously evaluate your college situation, okay?"

"Yes sir."

"I'll tell your mother, take some of the sting out of the situation." his father added. "It sounds like the last thing you need right now is more stress."

Tristan and Maul both laughed appreciatively.

Soon enough they were pulling into Tristan's suburban family home, a four bedroom, one-story house with a reasonable yard in the midst of a quaint and quiet neighborhood. Tristan's father parked the car in the drive way and Tristan set about to showing Maul around the house: the kitchen, living room, restroom, his room, and the guest room where she'd be staying. Maul deposited her bag therein and flopped on the bed happily, sliding off her boots and socks and propping her feet up on the end of the bed.

"This is a great room." she happily observed. "I'm so excited to be here with you, Tristan."

"We're all happy to have you here, Maul." Tristan replied, sitting beside her on the bed.

Maul moved over and snuggled against Tristan's side. He'd by now gotten used to, even come to like her closeness, her demonstrative personality. She leaned comfortably on him as he lay back on the bed. Ever energetic, she kicked her little feet back and forth slightly, just a constant motion, however small, to keep her energy focused. Tristan couldn't help but watch her pale feet move back and forth. They were so little and white, in stark contrast to her black clothing. Her toenails were painted that same dark-maroon as her fingernails, and Tristan really found it an alluring color.

"Oh my God," Maul suddenly erupted, bounding away from Tristan and gazing at him witheringly, "are you staring at my feet?! You freak!"

"What?!"

Tristan's face burned bright red and he fumbled for words awkwardly, stammering as he tried to explain himself. He stopped however when he saw that Maul's frame was shaking with barely contained laughter.

"Dude I'm kidding." she laughed. "It's fine, I just like messing with you."

"You're evil."

"Damn right."

Maul giggled and poked Tristan's side, making him squirm. He tried to grab her hand as she retracted it, but had to settle for leaping across the bed at her, trying to tickle her sides as she did the same to him. They wrestled about on the bed, laughing and screaming harmless insults at each other, until a voice cut in.

"Not to interrupt," Tristan's mother said warmly, "but dinner is ready, you two."

"Oh, thanks, Mom." Tristan awkwardly mumbled, blushing somewhat as Maul sat astride his torso, amidst the act of tickling his rib-cage.

While they ate dinner and made casual talk, Tristan marveled at the events that had just transpired. Not just that he and Maul had been wrestling about on the bed and that it had been very exciting for him, but also the fact that it hadn't scared him, it hadn't made him remember or relive anything unpleasant. He felt safe with her now, already feeling closer to her and so much more comfortable. / I really am making a recovery, if that didn't freak me out./

"Want to go for a walk later?" Maul asked of him as they finished up dinner.

"Sure," he agreed, "there's a park near here we can walk in if you like."

"Bad-ass!"

The sun went down early on that wintery night. It wasn't snowing, but it very well could have at such a chilly temperature. Each holding a thermos of hot apple cider and bundled up profusely, Tristan and Maul set out on their journey. Illuminated by street lights, they walked under the night sky past rows of houses, out of the neighborhood, and at last, off the road to a small park complete with picnic tables, clusters of trees, and a children's play-scape toward which Maul immediately charged with an excited and somewhat maniacal squeal.

"Chase me!" she called back to Tristan.

"You're so weird." he laughed loudly as he followed her.

Maul scurried up the steps to the height of the play-scape, a plastic walled-in area that led to a twisting tube slide for the enjoyment of the children. Tristan followed after her, though he took his time, stalking toward her in what he hoped was a menacing fashion. Maul pretended to be horrified, trapped between the slide and the advancing metalhead. Then, when he was in the enclosure with her, she leapt up and hugged him tight.

"This is so much fun!" she squeaked with joy, her face pressed against his chest.

"It is," he agreed, "and I like it up here, the walls keep most of the wind out."

"Yeah, it's nice."

They sat there together, in the cold of the night, in their relative shelter, enjoying the hot cider. Tristan felt like he just wanted to tell Maul everything, to let another person in on this thing that, while not all-consuming, was constantly hanging in the back of his mind like a dark cloud. Now seemed like such a perfect moment. / Will I ruin a perfect moment if I tell her./

"Hey Maul," he said at last, "I have something I want to tell you."

"No, Tristan, it's okay," she cut in, "I think I know what this is about. I know I'm really demonstrative, and I saw how that bothered you at first. Not as much now, it seems like, but at first I really freaked you out with all my hugging and physicalness and such. I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable, and I see that you're just not into me as more than just friends and I can respect that. Just know that I was never trying to push you into a closer relationship if you didn't want one, I'm just very physically affectionate."

"Oh Maul... that's not it at all."

"It's not?" confusion rested upon Maul's pretty face.

Tristan took a long, hot drink from his heavy thermos. The warm liquid filled him, washed through his system like some sort of internal cascade. He took a deep breath, staring into Maul's face. / Can I really tell her? Yes, she deserves to know why I get startled, why I flinch sometimes when she goes to hug me and why I'm okay other times. She deserves to know because I care about her a /lot./ So Tristan took one more deep breath, and he told her everything, from the start of that concert in September. He told her of his abduction, of being collared, naming the girls, the violation, the month of pure torture, and his subsequent confusions and fears.

"So you see," he said at last, almost gasping for air from the length of the rant, "sometimes this is a little more on my mind than other times. Sometimes the very same thing will or won't remind me of it all, given my mood or some other factors I can't quite pinpoint. But Maul, I... I do want to be closer than friends with you. I know we just met recently, but I really feel happy and safe with you, and given what I've been through, that says a lot about you, believe me."

For the longest time, Maul did not say a word. She just stared at him, taking all of it in. A sinking feeling filled Tristan slowly, building up from the pit of his stomach and spreading its tendrils upward and outward. / Oh Gods, she thinks I'm lying. What was I thinking, telling /her?!/ Then, Maul leaned forward and took Tristan's hand in both of her smaller hands and she held it tight.

"Oh Tristan," she whispered, moving closer, "you poor, sweet, sweet boy. I could tell there was something the matter, I could really feel it, a tension in you. I understand that now."

"Yeah."

"I honestly never imagined something like that could happen." she admitted, moving ever nearer until she could hug him. "And I cannot believe people would ever do that sort of thing to you, to anyone."

"I don't understand why they would either." he replied quietly.

"I'll protect you."

"Huh?"

"I'll protect you, Tristan," she repeated, "I would love to be there for you, to be with you whenever I can, to spend time with you, to make you laugh, to laugh with you, and I want to help you however I can."

"So... is that a yes to the "more than just friends" thing?" he enquired with a false tone of casualness.

"Of course it is," she insisted, "and not, you understand, because of what you told me tonight. It's because I like you. This, this thing that happened to you, it's just an obstacle for you to overcome, and I will help you however I can. May I kiss you?"

"Yes, I would not be bothered by that at all."

"Glad to know I don't gross you out or anything." she chuckled.

"Not in the slightest."

And Tristan was indeed not bothered in the least when Maul leaned into him and pressed her soft, warm lips against his. Their mouths opened together, their tongues playfully engaging. Tristan felt Maul move so she was sitting astride his lap, her legs on either side of his waist. Gradually she leaned him back so that she was laying upon him, kissing him fiercely, unrelentingly, their bodies pressed wonderfully together. And Tristan wasn't in the least frightened, he was only happy, safe, and aroused.

"Maybe we should head back home," he gasped when Maul returned to him control of his mouth, "it's warmer there than up here."

"Not a bad idea," Maul agreed, "I don't much like the idea of losing my hands to frostbite."

They both laughed.

Between the park and the neighborhood was a small convenience store, which had not yet closed for the night. Maul advised Tristan to wait outside whilst she darted in, made a purchase, and then returned to him with that devious smile playing upon her lips. / Gods above that smile could make me do anything in the world./ Maul would say nothing of her purchase on their walk home, though she delighted in teasing Tristan about it.

"You may never know." she taunted.

"Oh really," he shot back, "I could just search you for it, you are so small after all."

"Oh, low blow, man!"

"Yeah, low blow indeed. That's the only way they'll be sure to hit you."

"Nice." Maul had to admit.

Tristan's parents had both already gone to bed, their bedroom door shut to block out the inevitable sound of two college students enjoying winter vacation. All the same, Tristan and Maul were quiet as they crept back inside and into Tristan's room. Maul shut the door and turned on the light, revealing black-painted walls and posters for various heavy metal bands. / What else would she expect?/ Maul flopped on the bed and encouraged Tristan to join her. No sooner had he sat down than Maul was on him again, kissing him tenderly at first, working up to an excited frenzy that Tristan found himself altogether enjoying.

Maul parted them for a moment, smiling down at Tristan from where she lay upon him. Then, reaching into one of her pants pockets, she produced her purchase: a small box of condoms.

"Tristan," she asked tenderly, "I bought these for the two of us. Would you be comfortable uh, you know, going this far, with me?"

"I... I would." Tristan replied resolutely. "But let's go slow, okay?"

"I think that can be arranged." Maul purred.

She rose from the bed and stood there in Tristan's room, a vision of heavy metal beauty in such a small form, like a pixie. Gradually, this heavy metal pixie began removing her garments, slipping out of her boots, socks, shirt, and pants. Then, trying her utmost to be as alluring as possible, she slid out of her undergarments, leaving them amidst the pile of her discarded clothes upon the floor. And there she stood, Maul, naked and glorious, her pale body flawless and shivering with excitement and the faint chill in the air.

"Now it's your turn." she encouraged gently.

And as Tristan stripped out of his clothes, he felt not debasement, not terror or dehumanization. No, only exuberance, anticipation, and arousal filled his thoughts, his veins, every fiber of his being. When he finally stood naked in front of Maul, blushing at the approving look on her face, he had no words to describe how he felt.

"Do you want to be on top or bottom?" she asked.

"I think I'd rather be on the bottom." replied Tristan.

"Yeah, I kind of figured."

"What do you mean."

"It suits you."

Tristan lay upon the bed, quivering with desire as Maul moved upon him, her warm skin sending ecstatic sensations through his every nerve. She produced one of the condoms and gingerly slid it over Tristan's manhood, unrolling it down the length of his shaft. With an excited breath, she moved his manhood between her smooth thighs and lowered herself upon him.

"Oh, oh God." she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "Oh God, Tristan."

She let out a sharp yelp and winced slightly as Tristan's hips arched up to meet her, his erection pressing into her. / She just lost her virginity, to me./ Tristan could never articulate how it made him feel, how loved he felt for Maul wanting him to be her first. But his mind wasn't on articulation as he and Maul began to move in rhythm, Maul fell upon him, scratching and biting his chest, burying her face against him to muffle her sharp gasps of pleasure. Their bodies moved together faster, their hips joined in a perfect unison of unspoken synchronization, his manhood time and again plunging deep into her, until at last, she came to a shuddering climax.