In the Stacks Ch. 06

She tried to parlay him verbally by asking about the wedding, and its venue. He explained that it was a beautiful park that Chris and he discovered on one of their sightseeing trips into Canada. The wedding was scheduled for the early afternoon. He spoke dreamily of the locale, and the warmth in his heart spoke to Marilyn. Chris softly held his hand as they had resumed more of an upright position.

Marilyn politely inquired about the invitation which she had received in the mail today, and that she would probably be bringing her assistant, Penny. Desperately she tried to change the topic, but Will hounded her, and asked exactly what sort of assistance was needed at four in the morning.

Marilyn held her breath, and explained that she was getting older, and frailer. Penny had been working in her store, and that she was an aspiring writer, they had been getting along great guns. As far as Will was concerned, this was a thin veil of smoke, but as he had nowhere to go with this information, he let the matter go.

After they hung up the phone, both men cuddled softly, wanting to rekindle the lost moment.

"I guess she's okay with this," Will said.

"What's she going to do," Chris replied, "spank you? Take that monstrous rattan cane and blister your hide. Utter nonsense, dear boy, you're a man. A man's man, at that."

Softly they kissed and the moment returned.

***

Penny pulled up Marilyn's driveway about six-thirty, happy that she had two interviews scheduled for tomorrow. She had a small, leather, garment bag, her laptop and her purse. She had showered, changed clothes and looked utterly professional, and wondered if Marilyn had gotten a hold of Will so that she would not have to make dinner.

When she walked past the big window, Marilyn had waved her in, and she had dropped her things in the guest room as Marilyn was telling Will she loved him and hung up the phone.

Penny came out smiling bright, and asked, "Well..."

"You drive, I'll buy," She said.

"Ha!" Penny said.

"Funny part was he outed himself in an electronic mail to me. Then this came in the mail," she held up the gold-gilded invitation and handed it to Penny who scanned it.

"Married, in Canada. How romantic," she said.

Marilyn cocked her eyebrow at her, and listened to her completely nonjudgmental tone. As far as Penny was concerned, this could have been from a heterosexual couple.

"I've already RSVP'ed. You're coming with me, personal assistant."

"How did that go?" Penny asked.

"Well, I think. I'm not sure, but Will isn't a terribly deep man, I doubt if he'll think we're sleeping together," Marilyn said. "Where do you want to have supper at, and get a snack now, we have a pre-dinner engagement."

"We do?" Penny asked, as Marilyn threw her the keys.

Marilyn explained the meeting while she gave Penny directions through downtown Vancouver, its maze of one-way streets maddening for someone even as patient as Marilyn. They arrived shortly after seven-fifteen, and Penny held the door open for Marilyn.

The server asked how many were in their party, and Marilyn explained that they were there for the meeting in the back, and quickly they were ushered to a side room. When the doors opened, a small group of people, perhaps twenty at all, looked at them en masse'. Among them were Trinity and Violet, and there, in the corner was an interesting addition, Officer Schantez from the fire scene.

None of the group, save for Trinity, had any sort of appearance that could link them to bondage, dominance, sadism or masochism, yet, to be part of this small, elite group, you either had to know someone, or knew someone who did know someone. Marilyn smiled gently and Penny held out a chair for her, as if she were a man.

Trinity winked at Penny and Penny's glare back was so cold it could have frosted a beer mug. There was a tall, thin man at a center table who had leaflets and began circulating them about. These were the same leaflets that Marilyn was going to put into the bookstore earlier.

The meeting opened promptly at seven thirty, and members went around in a circle, talking about themselves. Marilyn introduced herself, not saying anything about the bookstore. Penny introduced herself merely saying that she was Marilyn's girlfriend. With both women being feminine in nature, some in the group wondered who was top, and who was bottom.

"Our first matter of business," Ron, the thin man, "is a location. A quiet place, preferably well removed, such as a cheap warehouse, or an abandoned barn or something like that. Somewhere where some of the larger pieces of equipment could be stored, and that we wouldn't have to be constantly bolting and unbolting things."

Violet offered, "I also think that somewhere remote would be better. The idea of having a wide-open space appeals to me. I think we could have a lot more possible scenes, scenarios."

Another voice piped up, "If it's big enough, we could have a camp-out, an entire weekend of play time."

A forth voice chimed up, "if we could hold events like this, then we could have a fair income stream. If we had a theme party every month, with open play on the weekends, this could get really popular."

Marilyn listened to the crowd, made of largely of realists. They understood both the legal and moral issues of having a permanent bondage play space, the kind of attraction that it would draw, and how careful they had to be. She admired their planning, their thinking, and their commitment. She made a mental note to thank Trinity at an appropriate moment.

Penny raised her hand, "I think what we need is a space that's both indoor and outdoor, and that suggests to me a barn, or farm. I know when I was driving down from Seattle, on I-5, I saw plenty of old broken-down barns on abandoned ranches. By the freeway, the property would be much more expensive, but if we were able to go out a little bit, not only would we have a larger space, but easily accessible by the free way."

Violet smiled at this point, "even better if it could be the house of one of our members."

The second voice piped out, "or some kind of a front business that wouldn't mind."

Marilyn turned this over in her mind for a little bit. A quiet country orchard would work, she imagined. Some sort of organic farm perhaps. Perhaps a bookstore built into a country home, that could be interesting.

Marilyn's thoughts were interrupted by Ron who pointed out, "Great ideas, guys, but for that sort of thing we need some initial capital."

"Only a down payment," Marilyn said. "If one were to get a remote kind of property, it wouldn't be more than thirty, or forty thousand dollars. If the group could promise the owner a sort of secondary income, in the form of use lease fees, then the investor would already have a hook on how to get their money back."

The group chattered back and forth for a few moments and then Penny offered, "what if the house itself was the business, sort of like a bondage bed-and-breakfast. A little quiet country retreat where artists and writers could come to have some quiet time, and if you knew the right key phrases, you could play in the dungeon as part of the stay."

That idea was well received and Marilyn leaned over to Penny and whispered deeply, "and I know one little girl who would probably end up being the chief maid, eh?"

Penny flushed as many others thought this was a wonderful idea.

Ron piped up, "With the house as the business, and a primary source of income, at this point, all you'd really need to do is find some venture capitalists."

Marilyn spoke softly, "I know of a couple bondage authors I could talk with. They aren't rich, but if they have a space to come in and perhaps play they might be convinced to buy in. Maybe we could make this more like a membership group, with dues and that sort of thing. Far more formal, but that may be the way we have to go. I'm still rebuilding my own business, and I won't be able to offer much help."

This got the group talking, and several other ideas sprung up. The idea that struck the group the most was to manufacture bondage furniture. With a large space, like a barn that was a feasible idea, and no one would ever question materials going and coming.

The meeting broke up about eight thirty, and Penny soaked Marilyn for a long, expensive supper at the local Red Lion Inn. Marilyn was very happy to pay, her mind swimming with ideas.

"You're really getting into this thing, aren't you?" Penny asked, as she drove home.

"Yes. I feel that I have hid quite enough. I mean if my son can come out to me at forty years of age, and I can act on my lesbianism at the age of seventy, well why not have a little fun?"

Penny smiled, nodding her head, "That's cool."

"How did your job-hunting go?" Marilyn inquired.

"I've got two interviews in the morning," Penny said.

"Pity," Marilyn said, looking at her.

"What?" Penny said.

"Well, I cobbled together an interesting little idea I read about."

Penny looked at her, an eyebrow cocked. She stopped the car in the driveway and reached for the remote control for the garage door.

"Leave her out tonight," Marilyn said.

"You're up to no good again, aren't you?" Penny said.

"I'd just like to try something, if you're up to it. We haven't done anything really much other than spanking, and I was wondering if you were feeling a bit, oh, adventurous?" Marilyn asked softly.

Penny grinned.

"Garage then, little girl."

Penny missed completely the ropes and sections of wood hanging from the rafters, and instead busied herself looking at the tidily organized hardware on the wall. She turned as Marilyn removed the silk scarf from her neck, the hickie that Penny had laid on her was now a healthy bruise. Penny bit at her lips seeing the mark, and hoped the Marilyn had not paid too much attention to it.

This hope, of course, was in vain.

"Now little one, we must discuss this matter of you and those teeth of yours." Marilyn said coolly.

Penny quivered just a touch as Marilyn danced the scarf around Penny's face, and then quickly tied it around her eyes. The overhead light of the garage faded, muting to dull shadows and vague shapes.

"Knee, little one. We have something new for you tonight. Something to let you know that I am quite serious about your training. Something I think, you may find very interesting."

Penny knelt, and Marilyn softly lowered one of the rods via the block and tackle mechanism.

"Raise you arms," Marilyn commanded. She placed the rod into Penny's hands and then softly tied rope around her wrists to the rod, not hard enough to make marks, but hard enough for Penny to realize she was being bound, her arms stretched out. Penny had no idea of course, of the pulley system.

Marilyn smiled, looking at her handiwork. Softly she stroked Penny's chin.

"Yes little one, how do you like that, Hm? It is just the sort of thing that you deserve right now for marking your old woman up. Maybe I'll just leave you like this for a while. That could be fun, yes, I like that idea."

Penny was silent, feeling the stretch and pull of her arms out. It was a new, and not at all uncomfortable sensation. She wondered what Marilyn was going to do next, and then realized that the bar was slowly moving up.

She had to struggle to get under it, as it rose slowly. She heard the sound of the turn of a wheel, of a pulley, she assumed. Marilyn's old muscles worked beautifully as Penny's young hands rose higher, and higher, until she was just on the tip of her toes. She felt her arms stretch, tug against their sockets and then her feet fell free.

Penny's pulse pounded and she heard the throbbing sound in her ears. She wasn't sexually aroused, but felt so utterly blissful, so lost and so out of control. Her legs kicked softly, the heels of her flats popping off, the shoes hanging on only by the clutch of her toes.

"Pretty as a picture, that's my little girl," Marilyn said. Penny's hands were about seven feet in the air, and her feet danced all of six inches off the concrete floor. Penny's smile was broad as Marilyn softly ran her hands up and down her body, her withered old fingers prodding all of the soft bits, gently twiddling her nipples through the fabric.

Penny felt the sensation of being touched, and coupled with the helplessness of being hung up created a new sensation. This feeling was a deepening of her submission, and a greater sense of security. Softly Marilyn's voice probed her.

"Well little one, do you like it?" She said.

"Yes ma'am." Penny replied, quietly.

"I didn't hear you," Marilyn said.

"Yes ma'am!" Penny bellowed.

Marilyn smiled and softly she reached up and softly started to tickle at Penny's abdomen. The sensations were tenfold and Penny shrieked with laugher, her lower body struggling while an obscene, joker-like grin played across her face. Marilyn's own smile looked at Penny's bound body lecherously and during the tickling, her sense of power grew. She wanted to see Penny strung up like this on a regular basis, paddled, spanked, writhing in pleasure, her juicy little pussy just waiting for Marilyn's tongue, her voice begging to be allowed to cum.

She took some deep breaths and then slowly lowered Penny down to the floor. Penny did not return to the kneeling position, but instead crumpled to the floor, her face with its pert lips had a look of pure bliss.

Marilyn kicked off her shoes as Penny came down, and then put one of the bare feet in front of her nose.

"Prove to me your worth, child."

Softly, Penny's mouth roamed Marilyn's toes, gently lapping, licking, and softly, tenderly, kissing and nuzzling. Marilyn felt the power of her role now in Penny's life, and knew she would continue to mold her into a proper young lady. Penny's mind was clear as a bell and had only one, single function, to give Marilyn pleasure in whatever way Marilyn desired.