“This is the warmest, brightest, happiest spot in the universe, and I never want to leave it.”
Anna May Perry
Thursday afternoon, 22 October 2015
Victoria: She makes her way back to Anna.
GM: Anna has gotten her bag and looks like she’s been making statements to the other police officer. She looks more than ready to go, and relieved when she hears Sylvia approach.
Victoria: She rests a hand on Anna’s arm, confirming her okayness for herself.
She leads her back into the classroom.
GM: “Wh…” she frowns as they head back inside.
“I’ve got my things. I want to go.”
Victoria: “Anna. All of your things.”
GM: Anna doesn’t look like she disagrees with that sentiment. At all.
“But my contract. It’s for the year…”
Victoria: “Fuck your contract.”
There’s no love in the words, and no explanation to follow.
“Get. Your. Things.”
GM: Anna gets the rest of her things.
She slings her bag over her shoulder and carries the fan with both hands.
Victoria: The tension in Sylvia’s voice spreads to her shoulders, and her back. She doesn’t realize how tight her body became during the encounter and subsequent negotiation.
She doesn’t help Anna carry the fan. Every other day of their friendship, she’s offered.
GM: It’s made of plastic and not heavy. Just bulky. It’s a cheap fan that does its job of circulating air.
Anna follows her out to the parking lot, making her way up to Sylvia’s car.
“We can call a truck or something for my car later.”
Victoria: “Whenever you’d like.”
She opens the trunk.
GM: Anna fits in her stuff, then gets in next to the driver’s seat.
She stares at Sylvia for a little while after she starts driving.
Then she says, “I feel safe with you.”
Victoria: Sylvia occasionally glances sideways, but doesn’t turn her head.
“They won’t bother you again,” is her answer.
GM: “I feel safer with you than anywhere else.”
Victoria: “I need to stop by my office.”
GM: “You saved my life.”
Victoria: She glances at her, but says nothing.
GM: Anna doesn’t say anything else, either.
She doesn’t pay any attention as Central City’s slums give way to Riverbend’s middle-ish class residentia.
She doesn’t look away from Sylvia’s face.
Victoria: They come to a stoplight.
Sylvia looks halfway toward her.
GM: “Sylvia…” Anna says slowly. There’s a tremble to her voice.
“…I love you.”
She leans in and kisses Sylvia. It’s a chaste-feeling kiss, rather than hungry, but deep with feeling.
Years of feeling.
Victoria: So much of her energy and focus is spent on cooling the boiling volcano inside her that she doesn’t fully understand it.
“I love you t—”
It’s not the first time they’ve said it. It is the first time she’s been interrupted with a kiss.
Her lips are soft, but rigid. The kiss is returned, but more on mechanical instinct than conscious desire.
GM: It’s the first time they’ve said it that way.
Anna slowly pulls away.
Her eyes are dewy, her face faintly unsure.
Victoria: A car horn behind them reminds them of the light that turned green seconds before.
Half of her attention returns to the road, but only half.
GM: Anna stares at her. Oblivious to the road.
The moment feels as fragile as spun glass.
Fragile. Perhaps sharp, if mishandled.
Perhaps beautiful, too.
Victoria: Why did Anna have to do that while she’s driving? She wants to give real answers, and the tsunami of affection that’s already converted her magmatic insides to butterflies.
She also doesn’t want to kill someone.
She’s painfully aware of her breathing, heavy, deep, and patient. She’s aware of the wetness in her eyes.
She wants a hug. She wants another kiss. She wants to ravish Anna more than any client has ever wanted her.
Blocks go by. So close.
GM: Yet oh so far.
The drive feels like it takes a million years. Neither of them says anything. The moment hangs seemingly suspended in the air. Its own small, buoyant piece of eternity. Anna never once looks away.
Finally, though, Sylvia parks her car.
Victoria: She looks more at Anna than the road. It’s a blessing they make it there unscathed.
“I think… I don’t remember how to let go of the wheel.”
GM: Anna’s eyes are wet too, like hers.
She lays her head against Sylvia’s shoulder.
Victoria: “I think…”
Thinking isn’t something she can easily do.
“We should go… inside.”
GM: “I’d like that,” says Anna.
Her voice has a faint tremble.
Victoria: Sylvia releases her fingers from the wheel.
She pushes the door open, not entirely sure her legs still work.
GM: She’s not sure whether they do or not. But she winds up inside, Anna’s arm wrapped around her waist, head still leaning against her shoulder.
Victoria: “Can we… try that again?” she asks, breath shuddering, hands on Anna’s waist.
GM: Anna pulls away just enough to meet Sylvia’s eyes, hands joined through hers.
“I love you,” she repeats, then leans in to kiss Sylvia.
Victoria: Anna can feel the tense restraint in Sylvie’s musculature. She wants her. She wants her so badly that she has to hold herself back from taking her. When their lips meet again, it’s patient, and tender, and she can feel how badly Sylvia is trembling.
It’s the sum of years and years of restrained desire, only ever teased at, but never really addressed.
This time, she doesn’t break the kiss. She steps forward, their lips locked, hands around the small of Anna’s back, sandwiching her between her and the wall.
GM: Anna presses herself against Sylvia, chest to chest, losing herself in the other woman’s lips. Her hands wrap around Sylvia’s back. Each kiss comes with a wantful shudder, her breath hot and heavy as her tongue explores Sylvia’s mouth.
Victoria: Sylvia’s breath is hot, her breathing shallow. She seizes Anna’s wrists, pinning them to the wall beside her head. She bites the teacher’s lower lip, tugging.
Their kiss is the trove of gold and jewels from her dreams; the meeting she’s always desired, and the one she’s never allowed herself to pursue. Anna is her forbidden fruit, sinfully sweet. Anna is her everything. Yet, to love Anna like this is to risk everything they share.
An iota of restraint returns to her simian brain.
A heartbeat passes. She bites her own lip, an internal struggle plain on her face. She seems to compromise on something, whether Anna answers or not.
She isn’t sure whether or not she should let this happen, despite the overpowering scent of Anna’s strawberry perfume, and the silken softness of her lips, but if she is going to let it happen—and that doesn’t seem like it’ll take much convincing—she isn’t sure it should be here. It’s not the most romantic place.
For all the unbreakable control Sylvia curates in her life, in that moment—that moment alone—Anna has the power to crumble all of her iron-wrought bindings to ash, and bend her to her knees as if she were a seraph, and Sylvia a sinning devotee.
GM: Sylvia is no stranger to offering forbidden fruits.
Is it so great a leap to sample one?
Anna writhes in place as Sylvia pins her, her face hot and flushed as she struggles against the taller woman. She moans with every bite and tug of her lip, hungrily leaning in to return Sylvia’s kisses with equal energy, if greater gentleness. Sylvia has always been the biter.
With her hands pinned, she can’t pull off Sylvia’s, or her own, clothes. She presses her crotch against Sylvia’s thigh, grinding back and forth.
“Here,” she breathes.
For all the power she might now wield, the trove of gold and jewels is all-too ready to spill its riches.
Victoria: She fumbles out of sight to her left, locking the door she’s never had trouble with before. Her thigh presses up into Anna’s pelvis, taking some of her weight right on her heat.
For how badly she’s wanted this, why does she feel so damn tentative?!
Her hand slip around Anna’s waist, squeezing her rear and lifting her off the ground. The pair doesn’t go far. Only far enough to crash onto a sofa in the living room, Anna tossed flat onto her back, Sylvia atop her. Her knees sink to either side of the teacher, fingers clasping the back of her head as she dives in to kiss her.
GM: Anna might give a delighted giggle at Sylvia picking her up, any other time.
Now it looks like it just makes her want, even more, as Sylvia takes charge. Like she always.
Anna hits the sofa with a thump. Of course she’s the one on her back. Of course Sylvia’s the one on top.
Anna practically tears off Sylvia’s pants and panties in her haste to get at the other woman’s wet sex. Anna’s tongue is not shy or tentative in its sampling. She presses the whole of her mouth to Sylvia’s crotch, all but making out with it as her tongue explores Sylvia’s most intimate places.
Victoria: She’s never seen Anna with this much vigor! This much need! Sylvia silently thanks herself for not taking Anna’s hands again, feeling them hungrily tear at her jeans with all the gnawing urgency of a starved animal at a package of meat. For once in her life, Sylvia doesn’t care that she’s seen that way.
She slips a leg off the sofa, supporting her weight on her foot while Anna unbuttons her jeans, ripping them down. The other leg leaves the sofa, the girl herself almost thrown off balance as Anna continues to make her clothing regret its existence.
Jeans (and panties) around one ankle, she falls back atop Anna, only half of it driven by her intent. If there is any doubt of her desire for the woman, the slickness of her lips casts it away. Anna’s hands pull her closer, her tongue sinking inside her, eliciting a sharp inhale at the flood of sensation, and validation. This is it. This is finally happening; the culmination of dreams.
She shifts her hips upward, a few inches above Anna’s mouth.
“H-hey… shhhh… you are eager. My clients aren’t even this hungry.”
GM: “Why are my clothes still on,” pants Anna, as if coming up for breath.
Then she leans upwards and buries her face into Sylvia’s pussy again.
Victoria: “Why are y-hhh—!”
Anna’s tongue severs the thought with a rushing river a bliss.
“F-fuck, Anna! When did you learn t—”
She seizes Anna’s hair, wrapping it about her fist and pressing her face firmly between her thighs. There’s no escape. There’s only the hungry teacher, and her curious tongue.
GM: Anna seems all the more turned on by Sylvia’s forceful action. Her hands caress Sylvia’s thighs, then her hips, touching her, stroking her, trying to feel every part of her. Anna’s tongue hungrily explores and laps against and eats out Sylvia’s pussy, making her breath hitch and come out in raggedy, uneven gasps. Sweat beads Sylvia’s body, hot rather than cold this time. Anna tries to pull her head away, to tease and touch with her fingers, but Sylvia’s holding her fast by the hair.
She’s in control. Like she always is.
“Clothes,-” Anna breathlessly gets out again.
Victoria: Sylvia chortles a heady, breathless laugh.
“Sorry. I don’t speak pussy. You started this. Finish it.”
She tugs her hair, firmly reseating her face where she managed to make enough room to talk.
GM: Anna moans out something inarticulate, then goes back to speaking pussy. She licks in circles, up and down, and side to side, sampling and savoring and kissing and licking every part of Sylvia’s most sensitive place. Sylvia feels the sensation building in her, leaving her panting and breathless and squeezing Anna’s’ hair, as hard as she can. It doesn’t take long to cross the point of no return. She feels her muscles clench as the climax rips through her. Anna’s chin is wet with her juices.
Victoria: Sometimes, enthusiasm trumps experiences. A need built over so many years, teased, but never let free, dwarfs it all so thoroughly that Anna could have been biting her clitoris and she would still have found her way to a climax.
It’s with a sharp inhale, a whimper, and a sudden cessation of breath at all that she finishes, her thighs clamping Anna’s face in place.
She falls forward, panting, head pressed to the edge of the sofa. She slumps over, only halfway off Anna.
GM: “My… my tur…” Anna pants, wet face still pressed against Sylvia’s pelvis.
Victoria: She wiggles herself down between Anna and the back of the couch, and pulls her into a kiss.
“I didn’t say it like I mean it before. I love you, Anna May, and I would have gone to jail if it meant saving you today.”
GM: Anna returns it tenderly, cheeks still flushed red with desire.
“I love you, Sylvia… I feel so, so safe with you…” she whispers, burying her face against Sylvia’s neck.
Victoria: “You’re still not going back,” she answers, lips finding the ridge of her jaw; the underside; her throat. Her fingers work to unclasp Anna’s pants, and once she does, her kisses vanish.
She sits up, shimmying Anna’s pants down but leaving her underwear in place. Once her pants are seated around her calves, she stops, fingernails trailing gentle lines down her thigh.
GM: Anna doesn’t argue it.
Not now. Perhaps not ever again.
“Please…” she breathes, her breath hitching under Sylvia’s touch.
Sylvia does so love to make them beg.
Victoria: She doesn’t intend to make Anna beg.
Even if that’s what she knows will happen.
Those nails travel between her thighs, the other hand joining it as they return, tracing a serpentine pattern back downward, twisting on the sensitive skin under her knee. Her head pokes between her legs, kissing her belly.
GM: “Please…!” Anna whispers, arching her back. Her breasts rise and fall with each heavy breath.
Victoria: Sylvia sucks the skin of her lower belly in between her teeth, then plants a soft kiss on the reddened mark. Then another, lower. Then another, even lower. As she speaks, her lips move against the sheer fabric covering her folds, each word interwoven with another kiss.
“Please…?” A kiss. “Please…” A kiss. “…what?” She breathes in her heavy scent, the flat of her tongue pressing against the cleft of her panties.
GM: Each kiss brings a little gasp. Anna squirms and grips the sofa.
“Please… make me… feel good…!”
Victoria: The drive to be her playful, controlling self battles the need to please the woman who just professed her love to her. They clash, and for the moment neither seems to gain the upper hand.
Sylvia sits upright, tugging her pants off the rest of the way, bringing her panties down after it. Both are tossed somewhere across the room, landing in the far hallway. Instead of returning to her meal, she lays back down beside Anna, one leg crookedly resting over one of Anna’s.
Those manicured fingernails return to her lower belly, this time tracing down directly to her labia where they slide between each set of inner and outer lips.
“I’ll taste you every day of your life, Anna, but I want to see your face the first time.”
GM: Anna pulls off her blouse. Undoes her bra. Tosses both aside.
Sylvia hasn’t seen her naked before. Her breasts are round, the tips pink and stiff from arousal. Her slim frame has put on a little weight around the belly, it looks like, from her recent diet and stress. Somehow that makes her feel more exposed. Baring all her imperfections and perfections alike before Sylvia.
It feels right, that Sylvia should be the one partly clothed, while Anna lies naked and exposed and vulnerable under her gaze. But for all that the teacher’s face is flush with the heat of her arousal, her brown eyes are wide and trusting. So trusting.
At Sylvia’s words, those eyes positively shine. She can see the love pouring out of them.
“I want you to see me too…” Anna whispers.
“And I want to see you…”
Victoria: Sylvia’s fingers explore the lover she’s always wanted, exposing and brushing over that sensitive node capping her lips. She’s gentle there, consistent in the speed and breadth of the circular motion she spins. She doesn’t cease when Anna bares herself, and only slows to drink in the form before her.
“Beautiful,” she purrs, as if a cat that could appreciate fine art. She means it, more than any admiration she’s ever gone. Every imperfection. Every little divot in her skin, and every little mole. They both need some time in the gym, and some time away from junk food, but she doesn’t care about it in the moment. Anna is perfect.
“You are perfection brought to life.”
Their lips meet, this time impossibly soft, barely a brush, while a pair of fingers slip inside her, her thumb replacing those slow circles..
“You are perfect, and I love you. So, so much.”
GM: Anna looks like there’s nothing she’s wanted more in the world, than for Sylvia to say she is beautiful.
Her breath hitches at the feeling inside of her, drawing out little gasps and shudders as Sylvia gets her closer. She’s incredibly wet. How long has she wanted this? How much has pleasuring Sylvia driven her towards the edge?
And then those words. Those tender, loving words. Anna’s heart looks like it’s swollen up to her head and filled everything behind her eyes.
“I love you… Sylvia…” she breathes. “I want… to spend… I never… want… to leave…”
Victoria: “Shhh…” she croons, her fingers curving upward inside her, toward the underside of her belly. The movements are soft, and tender. She knows love, and love isn’t about secret tricks. It’s about attention to your partner, and Anna has every ounce of attention she can offer.
“Let yourself go…”
GM: So she does.
She loses herself in the sensation. Of the woman she loves most in the world, just being there, and giving her every ounce of attention she has, to make her feel good. Anna lies and exposed beneath her partner, and Sylvia smiles down, there for her, there to make her feel pleasured and loved and like the center of her entire world, because she is.
Anna’s eyes never leave hers. Not as they widen and she hits her peak, crying out as she grips the couch. Sylvia’s fingers run slick with her juices as Anna breathes up at her, red-faced and spent,
“I love you…”
Thursday evening, 22 October 2015
GM: After that, Anna doesn’t want to do anything except hold her. And be held in turn. The pair lie in another’s arms on the couch, Anna curled up against Sylvia’s side. She looks like there’s no other place she’d rather be, right now. No other place where she feels safer.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, looking up at Sylvia’s face with trusting eyes.
Victoria: In truth, there’s no place Sylvia feels safer either, though she doesn’t say it. She doesn’t have to. It’s a different type of safe than Anna. Whereas Anna considers her physical safety, Sylvia finally finds some safety of the heart.
“I’m thinking… that I’ve been in love with my best friend since the first day of college, that we’ve spent years dancing around each other, and… and I wouldn’t change any of it, just to ensure this moment happened to us.”
“Even the knife-wielding monkeys.”
GM: Maybe Anna feels safety in both.
She rubs her head against Sylvia.
“I wouldn’t change anything either.”
“Not a thing.”
She lets that hang for a moment.
“Has it really been since the first day…?”
Victoria: “Has it really ever not been obvious?”
GM: Anna laughs softly.
“I think, like a lot of things… in hindsight.”
Victoria: “Yeah… you too.”
She breathes, her chest expanding and retracting, Anna rising and falling with her.
“I think… can I be bold?”
GM: “When aren’t you?” smiles Anna.
She looks completely lost in that simple sensation of Sylvia’s breathing.
“Yes. You can, always. That’s one of the things I love about you.”
Victoria: Sylvia returns the smile, if faintly. She’s more serious.
“I think that if you weren’t in love with me, you wouldn’t have left Jeff to stay here, and… I think that if I wasn’t selfishly in love with you, I wouldn’t have made you stay.”
She parts her lips, but whatever is meant to be said doesn’t come.
“I’m glad I did. I don’t regret it. I don’t feel sorry.”
GM: “You didn’t make me stay,” says Anna, rubbing her head against Sylvia again.
“I chose to. Because… I think you’re right… you.”
GM: Anna plants a soft kiss against her cheek.
“I stayed. Because of you.”
Victoria: She earns a silent smile and a blush.
GM: “How is this going to work?” asks Anna, nuzzling her head against Sylvia again.
Victoria: “What… do you mean?” she asks, a bit nervous.
Her voice is as gentle as a voice can be.
“Just… everything. What’s it going to be like?”
Victoria: “What do… you want it to be like?”
GM: “I want it to be…”
Anna thinks, then doesn’t say anything for a moment, content to just lie against Sylvia with the other woman’s arms around her.
“Like this. You holding me.”
“I want it to always be like this.”
“I feel so safe with you, Sylvia. I feel like I could stay here forever, in your arms. And know I’ll always be loved and always be safe. This is the warmest, brightest, happiest spot in the universe, and I never want to leave it.”
Victoria: “Then stay here,” she answers as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.
“Just stay here forever. Come here every night. Wake up here every morning. Take naps here after work. Tell me stories here in the evening. Just be here.”
GM: “I think I like that a lot,” says Anna, nuzzling against her side.
Victoria: It’s so simple to her, and she hopes it’ll stay that way.
“Get me my phone, would you?”
GM: “Yes, mistress,” Anna laughs. She gets up off the couch, retrieves it, and then lies back down against Sylvia.
Victoria: She checks her messages. As blissful as she feels, she doesn’t want to earn a less pleasant visit.
GM: Derek hasn’t texted her yet.
Victoria: Safe. Phew.
She breathes a sigh, running her fingers through Anna’s hair.
“Say that again.”
GM: “Yes, mistress,” smiles Anna.
Victoria: She swats her rear.
The bare skin reddens.
That’s a first.
GM: “Eep!” Anna exclaims, giggling.
She rubs her rear and asks, still smiling, “How is that part going to work?”
The question sounds serious, too, though.
Victoria: “How do you want it to work?”
It’s becoming a theme.
GM: “Why don’t you say how you want it to, this time.”
Victoria: “Because I’m not sure how I want it to.”
It’s honest, if indecisive.
“How do you want it to?”
GM: “You’re the professional, that’s why I asked you,” smiles Anna.
Victoria: “And you’re my girlfr—”
GM: “I like that,” Anna says quietly as Sylvia cuts herself off.
“Will you say it again?”
Victoria: “I like that, too,” she says just as quietly.
“You’re my girlfriend.”
GM: “I really like that,” says Anna, planting another kiss on her cheek.
“You’re my girlfriend, too.”
Victoria: At the risk of ruining a sweet moment, she gets one of those playful looks.
GM: Anna smiles and rubs her side.
“So, for real. I know BDSM is a huge part of who you are. And I know you’ve been into it with your other relationships, outside of work.”
Victoria: “I mean, yeah…”
She lets her continue.
GM: “I mean, I know about it. I’ve read about it on the internet. But I don’t really have any direct experience with it. I mean, I’ve never had a girlfriend who’s a dominatrix before.” Anna’s tone grows slightly teasing at those words.
“But, it’s important to you. And I want to explore things that are important to you, and understand what makes them important.”
Victoria: “You haven’t really ever had a girlfriend, period,” she corrects. “Not more than a short fling, anyway.”
She looks at her, really absorbing her intent. Is it all for Sylvia?
“The thing is… it’s something that’s beneficial to both parties; desired by both parties. It shouldn’t be because you want to please me in exclusivity, but because you want that sort of relationship.”
GM: “I don’t think I know enough to honestly say what that sort of relationship is like,” Anna says frankly. “Outside of, you know, smut, or fantasies. I’ve never lived one, or your vision of one.”
“But I want to explore it, and see if it’s for me. Because I know it is for you. And if it’s something we both enjoy, that’s wonderful. And if it’s not, we can reevaluate.”
“Does that sound healthy?”
Victoria: She strokes Anna’s cheek fondly.
“That sounds like a well-adjusted woman wanting to test a life before she commits, even if she’s certain about the person it’s with.”
GM: “Yes,” Anna nods in understanding. “Exactly.”
“I think all couples should try to get to know one another’s interests.”
“If they can share them, that’s wonderful. If they can’t, they’re allowed to be their own people.”
Victoria: She continues to stroke her cheek idly.
“Mmn. You’re not your own person anymore.”
GM: “Oh, that’s right… mistress,” Anna laughs.
Victoria: “Ooooh, so it’s funny to you already?”
Her tone is dark, but the grin makes it all fall apart.
GM: Anna giggles.
“It’s always been funny, Dark Mistress Dominatrix!”
Victoria: “You’re going to be ‘Miss Wearing A Gag Until Bed’ unless you set that tone straight.”
GM: “Mmm, hot.”
Victoria: She stuffs her underwear into Anna’s mouth. At least they’re mostly clean.
GM: “Mmmf!” Anna protests, laughing.
Victoria: Sylvia can’t hold it in. She bursts out laughing.
“I can’t take it seriously!”
GM: Anna pulls out the underwear, also laughing.
“Do we have to take it seriously?”
Victoria: “Not if you don’t want to, no,” she shakes her head. “But if you do want to really try, I will.”
“I mean, try—you know. You’re my girlfriend no matter what.”
It feels a little better saying it a third time.
GM: Anna looks thoughtful. “Is it more fun, when it’s serious?”
“What’s your experience?”
Victoria: “Depends on if you like it or not.”
“It could be just bedroom play, or it could be all the time.”
GM: “I like making fun of it. It’s funny. But I’m open to trying serious, and seeing what that’s like.”
“What is it like, when it’s bedroom versus all the time?”
Victoria: “I… just don’t want it to change who you are. Who we are, you know?”
GM: “I don’t ever want to change what we are, either,” Anna nods.
“Do you think that’s a risk?”
Victoria: “It’s… I mean. It’s this. This play, but serious, but only in bed, and only when we want, or…”
Maybe it is right for them.
“Or it’s what you got at school, every day, all the time. Not quite so dour, but… that. You’re told what you are and are not allowed to do, and where permission is needed. You can poke and prod at boundaries, if you want to be bratty—don’t comment, yes, I know you are—and punishment is meted out as is appropriate.”
She hums a thought.
“How about this. You trust me, yes? With everything in the world?”
GM: “That’s the first thing I was going to say,” says Anna.
“School was… school. Work. They didn’t care about me, they cared about them. And me was usually at the expense of them.”
“I trust you with my life.”
“I have trusted you with my life.”
Victoria: “I meant more how I was at your school, being how it’d be all the time.”
GM: Anna frowns and thinks about that.
“As in… do this or get shot?”
“That sounds pretty extreme even for BDSM…” she remarks, faintly amused.
Victoria: Sylvia sighs into her palm.
GM: “Or is it just being a really dominant and in charge figure?”
Victoria: “Okay, words aren’t working. That’s not a surprise.”
Is that an insult?
“Get me your bag.”
GM: Anna looks about to ask why not, or how they can. But she gets up, pads off, and returns with her bag.
Watching her walk around naked is far from an unpleasant sight.
Victoria: Sylvia didn’t want to stop the first time they stopped. Mentally, she’s already on round four.
She takes the bag into her lap, pulling out Anna’s wallet. She unzips the leather item, and sets in in her lap. One by one, she thumbs through each of Anna’s things. Her Louisiana ID, store memberships, rewards cards and medical cards are left. All credit and debit cards are removed. She pulls the cash out, counting it under her breath.
The financial cards are set aside in a neat stack. She replaces five twenties back into Anna’s wallet, and hands it back to her.
“Two days. You have one hundred dollars in there. When you want to spend, you ask me. If you’re disobedient, I take money away. If you’re good, I might give you more cash, or a card. If you spend money and I catch you, the punishment is worse. Get receipts.”
“Don’t go anywhere stupid, or where you can get lost. Don’t go to bad areas. Don’t just—be sensible.”
She’s almost begging in that last bit.
“See how you feel after two days. Do you like the restraint? Do you like feeling that tug on your personal life? That dependency? The need to ensure I’m happy ahead of your personal life and duties?”
She slumps back, posture gone to the wind.
“It’ll provide you a good view of the non-sexual components to the life in a way that isn’t overly restrictive, but that still provides a constant reminder of your place. If you like it, we can continue. If you like the idea, but not the financial dependence, we can experiment with other ideas. If you don’t like it at all… well, you’re still my girlfriend.”
That’s the first time it sounds completely natural.
She holds the stack of cards up.
“I’ll keep these with me at all times. I will not use them. I will not lose them. I will not betray your trust.”
Her gaze is heavy, laden with how serious she is about doing this the right way.
“Oh, and pick a safe word. It counts, even in non-sexual play. Something you don’t say every day.”
GM: Anna takes all of that in thoughtfully. She doesn’t interrupt, just listens.
“What’s being disobedient and being good, in this context? Or, I guess, is being bad anything besides spending money without permission, and having no receipts?”
Victoria: “Not every aspect is about the whips and chains and physical abuse. That’s just what they show in porn and popular culture. It’s not as interesting to show the girl nervously texting her mistress asking if she can buy new shoes, or the guy who asks her to take his cage off because he has to go for a physical and he doesn’t want the embarrassment, is it?”
She smiles wryly back.
“Don’t spend more than you would, especially without severance this time. I wanted to leave you enough that you wouldn’t feel in danger, and you’d be able to get a cab if you need.”
GM: Anna nods. “Okay. That all makes sense. If there’s an emergency, I can spend money and let you know.”
“And as far as safe words… hmm. How’s… ‘zangdoodlefish’?”
“Or maybe just ‘doodlefish.’”
She smirks. “I don’t know when else I’d say that.”
Victoria: She snorts at the safeword, but nods.
“Mango Doodlefish. How’s that? As for being good and bad, well…”
She takes Anna’s hand, guiding her to her knees as Sylvia rises to her feet.
“Every time we meet for these two days, greet me like this. We’ll start simple, huh? If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Not every kink is for everyone, right?”
GM: “I don’t know, I think that is more interesting in its own way. It’s more psychological. Subtler.”
Anna gets to her knees.
It’s a position Sylvia has put a lot of people in.
“Okay,” says Anna. “Every time we leave, and I see you again? And if I don’t, I lose money?”
Victoria: “Depends on my mood. Depends on if you misbehave otherwise. We’ll play with it, and we’ll find out, right?”
She pulls her to her feet.
“There’s a wealth of play out there, Anna. If you don’t like this, there are other things to try. It’s like not liking broccoli, so you decide you don’t like food. Make sense?”
GM: Anna rises with Sylvia.
“Yes, Dark Mistress Dominatrix,” she smirks.
Victoria: She takes her chin tightly in hand.
It’s a correction she’ll receive once.
GM: “Yes, mistress,” says Anna.
She tries out the word, almost experimentally on her tongue.
Victoria: “…okay, call me the other one sometimes. I don’t know if I can live without your silly jabs.”
She pulls Anna back up and onto the couch, hugging her tightly.
GM: “Yes, Dark Mistress Dominatrix,” Anna giggles, hugging her back.
“I don’t think I could live without some silliness either.”
Victoria: She peppers her shoulder with kisses.
“Maybe I should thank those boys. This wouldn’t be happening without…”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“So, moving in next week?”
GM: “I think it would’ve, just maybe a little later,” says Anna. “Feelings are feelings. They come out.”
“I’m glad I’m okay too.”
“And that you were there to make sure I’d be.”
“And, why wait? Why not tomorrow?”
Victoria: “It’s cute that you think we can be as we are today and still get out of bed tomorrow.”
GM: “Oooh, right. Fucking like bunnies all day sounds more fun.”
Victoria: She smiles faintly. “You can, if you want. To save money. I don’t mind. You’re… not going back to that place, nor any school like it. Not ever again.”
GM: Anna’s face loses some of its mirth.
“But my contract. It’s for the year…”
Victoria: “The only contract you have to worry about is with me. Call them tomorrow, tell them you’re moving.”
GM: Anna looks ready to swoon at those first words.
Victoria: She drags a fingernail up her chin, capitalizing on it.
GM: “Yes… mistress. You’re my first contract.”
She looks bemused.
GM: “My first priority. My first commitment.”
Her answer looks more serious than joking, there.
Victoria: “Until I say otherwise, I am your only priority, and your only commitment. You aren’t worry about anything else. Understand?”
Unhealthy as it is, and she knows it’s unhealthy, it’s to Anna’s benefit to shirk thoughts of her life at school.
GM: “But,” says Anna. “If I just quit… that is illegal. They can take me to court, get my teaching license suspended…”
Victoria: “If you go back, you can be taken at knifepoint again. I won’t always be there, Anna.”
Now Sylvia is stressed.
GM: “I know,” says Anna. Her voice sounds pretty stressed, too. “I don’t want to go back! Not after that. Not ever! I just don’t want to get sued, or lose my license, either.”
Victoria: Sylvia huffs.
“What happens to all the other teachers who disappear during the year?”
GM: “Sometimes they get taken to court… or they just don’t work as teachers, anymore. Or both.”
“You can ask the school district to release you from your contract, early. That’s how teachers prefer to get out. It’s a letter to the superintendent and basically completely up to him.”
“Sometimes teachers also just quit and hope the school district won’t do anything about it. Because sometimes they don’t. But sometimes they do.”
Victoria: She settles Anna to the sofa, gets up, and disappears down the hall bare-assed. It as Anna’s turn to have the distracting sight.
A minute later, she returns with her laptop, open to a word processor.
GM: Anna looks distracted.
But not for long.
She starts writing.
“Do you have a printer? They like physical letters, for this kinda stuff.”
“Yes, it’s old-fashioned.”
Victoria: “Yes, it’s Wi-Fi enabled. Consider this: McGehee destroyed you. Since they let you go, your prospects teaching have only gone down. The students you receive care less. Your colleagues are burnt out. Your employers see you as replaceable parts in a broken machine they don’t want to fix. If you want to teach, your prospects in New Orleans are…”
“Better it than you.”
“I don’t want to see the woman I love lose her soul to this disgusting system.”
GM: “I want to teach,” says Anna. Her voice is something between sad and frustrated. “It doesn’t have to be at McGehee, just… somewhere permanent, not as a sub, I’m not doing that again. Somewhere the kids and parents give a damn, and there aren’t police and metal detectors at the doors. That’s all. That’s all I want. Why can’t I just… why can’t they just let me teach.”
Anna gives a sniff.
Victoria: Sylvia pulls her into a hug again, taking those tears into her shoulder once they inevitably come.
“There, there. You’ll teach again. I promise. I’ve a few ideas, just… let’s get you out of that job alive and with a license, okay?”
GM: “I love teaching, I love working with kids,” Anna sniffs into Sylvia’s arms. “I’m qualified, I’m WELL-qualified, I didn’t do anything to hurt those girls…”
She hits print.
Victoria: “You are the single best teacher New Orleans has ever had, and what they did to you is wrong. You are a sacrifice. A scapegoat, and nothing more.”
“…do you want to light Strong’s car on fire?”
“I’ll do it.”
GM: Anna manages a chuckle.
“Tempting. But I’d rather just be a teacher again.”
“Maybe I’ll have better prospects in the summer, when they’re actually hiring again…”
She gets up again, her turn to distract Sylvia now, and retrieves and signs the letter.
“All right, just gotta mail this in… you got stamps and letters anywhere?”
“I can call in sick tomorrow, too. And however long it takes for the letter to get read. They can’t sue me for that.”
Victoria: She lofts a brow, wondering why Anna would mail the letter in when she’d said she’s planning to return to work, until she mentions calling in sick.
“That’s better. I like that idea. How many sick days do you have?”
GM: “Ten. Seven sick, three personal. Though I need a doctor’s note to take more than three sick ones.”
Victoria: “I’m not breaking your leg, though that might still be less dangerous than you going back to work.”
GM: Anna gives a mock-thoughtful expression.
GM: “I was kidding.”
“Anyways, stamps and letters?”
Victoria: “We’ll have to figure out how to make the doctor thin—in the desk. Be right back.”
Sylvia’s turn again.
GM: “Baby, I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” Anna fawns.
Victoria: “Take a picture. It’ll be you more often than me.”
She hastily sits before she actually does.
GM: “No fun,” pouts Anna, too slow in retrieving her phone.
Victoria: “Later. Do you think they’ll go for it?”
GM: “I don’t know,” admits Anna.
“They kind of… don’t care about teachers.”
“I could try talking with HR, but, well, they say HR exists to protect companies, not employees.”
Victoria: “It does, yes, but you were threatened with knives yesterday. It may be in their best interest to ensure you don’t take them to court.”
GM: “I think they’re counting on teachers being too poor to do that.”
Victoria: “Tell them you’ve got a rich girlfriend.”
GM: “Do you think I should threaten a lawsuit in my letter?”
Victoria: “Let’s see if they appeal to your rosy cheeks and sparkling smile before we use a stick.”
GM: Anna smiles back at that.
Then she smirks. “What about a whip?”
Victoria: Sylvia’s brow hits the ceiling.
GM: “I’m just saying, you have whips, not sticks.”
Victoria: “You don’t believe I have sticks.”
GM: “Sticks seems like a weird kink.”
Victoria: “There’s lots of sticks. Sticks can be used for whipping, and sturdier sticks can be used for striking. A cane is technically a stick, and surely you’ve heard of caning, hmmn? And then there’s the thicker sticks…”
GM: “Mmm, no, I haven’t heard of any of those,” Anna declares. “Maybe you’ll have to show me…”
Victoria: “You are much too innocent for that, dear. You wouldn’t survive the encounter.”
The pair spend the rest of the evening mulling about the dungeon. Sylvia offers to cook Anna a meal—as the dungeon is in a house—but decides she’d rather have a crispy chicken sandwich from O’Tolley’s. This earns a glance from Victoria, followed by an apology from Anna. She asks if she can buy one, and the two set off.
Three combo meals, a shared apple pie, and yet another shovelful on the pile of ‘We should eat better’ later, they’re back at Sylvia’s apartment.
They manage a whole two hours of sleep.