A/N: The contract part here was too dense and dragged the pacing of the story, so that's out. Instead I use a worksheet system that I also just happen to have on my laptop. Also, the grandiose gift of lending a macbook pro was removed because Laura has her own laptop, thank you very much. I also removed the excessive emails going back and forth. (I listen to 50SoG as an audio book, so let me tell you that this part is VERY tedious to get through)
The worksheet began with a basic series of health questions. Safety first, I like that.
NAME_Laura Hollis_ AGE_21_ ORIENTATION_Pansexual_ GENDER_Female_
Any specific Health & Safety Issues that need to be communicated before Continuing? (Details/What to do if...)
Diabetes?
Heart?
Prosthetic?
Asthma/COPD?
Anxiety/Panic?
Back/Skeletal
HIV/AIDS
STD
Blood Born Pathogen
Arthritis
Anemia
Birth Control
Other
No physical issues like that, and I'm not on any kind of birth control...
The document continued on with a checklist, and I was fairly certain that I could make all this out.
Safe words and signals
[X] I want standard safe words Red Yellow & Purple
[X] The dominant should establish one or more safe words
[X] When I cry, the scene should stop
[X] I should be able to communicate in plain language
[X] The dominant should be able to read my body language
[-] I want to be tested when I use a safe word or signal
[X] All activity should stop immediately when I use a safe word or signal
[-] I do not want to use any safe word at all and my signals should be ignored completely
[X] When I use a safe word or signal the dominant should establish if the scene can continue
[X] A scene should go on up to the point where I use a safe word or signal
[-] The use of safe words and signals should be avoided as much as possible
Others, please specify: _ _ _
I had to research what exactly a safe word was, but thank goodness for Wikipedia. It went on to talk about "Safe, Sane, and Consensual" like it was the safety mantra for the BDSM community. So there's a community? The article went on to suggest that some places would have a Dungeon Monitor, which made me giggle at the thought of a kinky safety monitor going around and making sure everyone stayed safe and cleaned up afterwards like you would a bench at the gym.
Does Carmilla go to any of these community events? Judging from her paranoid secrecy, I'd say she doesn't. I wonder if she'd let me go to one of these events, so I could talk to other submissives and get a better understanding of what we're expected to do. I continued filling out the form.
To me erotic power exchange is:
[X] Something I like incidentally, just as a kick
[-] Something I like, but not too often
[-] Something I want as much as possible
[-] A lifestyle that I consider important and want to practice as much as possible
[-] A lifestyle that should be present at all times
[-] My way of life
[-] The most important thing I can think of
[-] Something I want exercised at all times and no matter what the consequences are.
Others, please specify: _ _ _
Sex and Sexuality
[-] I need to be sexually aroused when in scene
[-] An orgasm turns me off
[X] I like as many orgasms as I can get
[-] An orgasm must only be allowed as a reward
[-] An orgasm is a must to end the scene
[X] Orgasms are not important, but nice
[X] I want my sexual abilities to be stretched
[X] Not being tied up, but verbally commanded
[?] Being in a public place and dominated in a subtle way
[?] Being taken out with collar and leash
[?] Caned, flogged or whipped without being restrained
[X] I like to be persuaded, rather than commanded
[-] Make me feel guilty
[-] Make me feel cheap
[X] Used as a servant
[X] Make me feel used
[X] Make me feel owned
[-] Make me feel useless
[-] Objectify me
[?] Rough sex/being "raped" (Carmilla: I'm okay with rough sex like before, but not being 'raped'.)
[?] Being tied and tortured
[-] Being tortured without being tied or cuffed
[-] Being used by more than one dominant
[-] Playing in combination with other couples
I understood what rape play was, and it still didn't seem like something I would ever like. A lot of this list are things I've never tried, so I had no idea how I'd handle some of this, so I left a question mark on them. The next few pages were simply listing different acts that could be done, and I had to rank them from 1-5, or mark it off as a Hard Limit. I ignored the 'Done' check-boxes since I hadn't ever done anything like this before.
Activity
Anal Play
Acts in which the anus is involved.
Beating (General)
Acts in which one is beaten.
Beating - Canes
Acts in which one is beaten with a cane.
Beating - Crops
Acts in which one is beaten with a crop.
Beating - Floggers
Acts in which one is beaten with a flogger.
Beating - Hairbrushes
Acts in which one is beaten with a hairbrush.
Beating - Hard
Acts in which one is beaten hard.
Beating - Paddles
Acts in which one is beaten with a paddle.
Beating - Soft
Acts in which one is beaten softly.
Beating - Spanking
Acts in which one is beaten with a hand.
Beating - Whips
Acts in which one is beaten with a whip.
I sighed, feeling overwhelmed at how this goes on for a few pages. She expects me to fill all of this out?! I sighed, bored at the lengthy paperwork ahead of me. I flipped a few pages forward to find "Drinking Blood, Drinking Semen, Drinking Urine..." WHOA! Well, there's my Hard Limit! I cringed at just the thought of that and turned another page and winced as I glanced over stuff regarding fisting. I was still sore but I knew enough that I would be more comfortable with fisting than drinking anything on this list.
Carmilla Karnstein, what kind of freaky world have you drawn me into?!
I put down the worksheets and instead do a web-search for snape-submiss, remembering the suggested fanfiction. I need a break already. I found the story and started reading, and found myself pulled into the story before very long. I was biting my thumb in shock and arousal in the third chapter, intrigued by the thought of Hermione Granger getting turned on by a spanking and having to call herself a slut.
Okay, this is kinda hot.
I tried to remember if I saw 'being forced to talk dirty' was anywhere in the paperwork. I flipped the pages over and wrote it out anyways. I got up to get some water and a bite of food, and realized that it was past midnight. I didn't have work in the morning, so I kept on reading. It wasn't until I yawned and stretched after awhile that I realized that the sun was coming back up and it was almost time for breakfast.
Hollis, you stayed up all night reading a fic. Again.
Except that this wasn't just any story; this was my story. I couldn't help but think of Carmilla using a belt on me, putting her fingers in me, and making me quiver and orgasm and curl into her arms and feel safe and loved and secure. I was breathing heavy just at reading this smut! A part of me realized that Carmilla had probably wanted me to read this, so I would understand that being a submissive didn't mean that I was weak in any sense of the word.
I wanted to keep on reading, but exhaustion was catching up to me. I scramble up and change into pajamas and brush my teeth, looking at myself in the mirror.
I can't seriously be considering this...
The only person I've ever been attracted to, and she comes with a contract, a worksheet of limits, an honest to god dungeon, and a world of issues. Well, at least I got my way this weekend.
I flush at the memory of her hands and mouth on me, her talented fingers inside me. Closing my eyes, I feel the familiar delicious pull of my muscles from deep, deep down. I want to do that again and again. Maybe if I just sign up for the sex... would she go with that?
Am I submissive? Maybe? I guess I come across that way. Maybe I misled her in the interview. I'm shy, yes... but submissive? I let Betty bully me - but that's not the same. And those limits, jeez. My mind boggles, but I'm reassured that they are up for discussion.
I wander back to my bedroom. This is too much to think about. I need a clear head - a fresh morning approach to the problem. I put the worksheets and contract back in the satchel.
Tomorrow... tomorrow is another day. Clambering into bed, I switch off the light and lie staring up at the ceiling. Oh, I wish I'd never met her. I'd never have tasted this forbidden fruit and I wouldn't crave it even more. But I have never felt as alive as I do now.
I close my eyes, and I drift into a heavy sleep with occasional dreams of four-poster beds and shackles and intensely dark eyes.
Betty wakes me the next day.
"Laura, I've been calling you! You must have been out cold."
My eyes reluctantly open. She's not just up - she's been for a run. I glance at my alarm. It's eleven in the morning. Holy Moses, I've slept for a solid seven hours.
"Yeah, I was up late. What's up?"
"You have a phone call."
Betty handed me the phone as adrenaline made me wake. I take the phone call into the hallway for some privacy.
"Wow, Hollis. I thought I wasn't a morning person." Carmilla's voice held her usual detached sultyness.
I yawned, recalling what kept me up. "Your recommended fic drew me in. I'm at the point where she's at her first play party. Are they like that in real life?"
"I wouldn't know; I don't want to get outed as a Dominatrix."
"So far, I'm intrigued."
"I see. So you are still considering my proposition?"
"Your indecent proposal? Yes I am. I have issues though."
She chuckles, sounding relieved.
"Well, I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
"I was going to email them to you."
"I think I like being the first thing you hear in morning. What are your issues, 'Hermione'?" I smiled, realizing she was flirting with me.
"See, I knew you had a sense of humor somewhere in there." I smile.
"Only certain things are funny, cupcake. I worried you would say no, with no discussion at all." Her voice drops.
"I don't know yet. I haven't made up my mind. Will you collar me?"
She made a small sound of surprise.
"You have been doing your research. I don't know, Laura. I've never collared anyone."
Oh... should I be surprised by this? I know so little about the scene... I don't know.
"Were you collared?" I whisper.
"Yes."
"By Mrs. Robinson?"
"Mrs. Robinson!" she laughs loudly, freely, and she looks so young and carefree, .
"I'll tell her you said that, she'll love it."
"You still talk to her regularly?" I can't keep the shock out of my voice.
"No, it's pretty rare, but she'd love it." She's serious now.
Oh... and part of me is suddenly insanely jealous - I'm disturbed by the depth of my feeling.
"I see." My voice is tight. "So you have someone you can discuss this stuff with, but I'm not allowed."
She frowns.
"I don't think I've ever thought about it like that. Mrs. Robinson did introduce me to this lifestyle, but like I told you, that's in my past. If you'd like, I can introduce you to one of my former subs; you could talk to one of them."
What? Is she deliberately trying to upset me?
"Is this your idea of a joke?"
"No, Laura." She's bemused as she shakes her head earnestly.
"No - I'll do this on my own, thank you very much," I snap at her.
She stares at me, surprised.
"Laura, I... " She's lost for words. A first, I think. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"I'm not offended. I'm appalled."
"Appalled?"
"I don't want to talk to one of your ex-girlfriends... slave... sub... whatever you call them."
"Laura Hollis - are you jealous?"
I flush, crimson. The surge of jealousy I felt only moments ago tells me that I have deeper feelings for her than I have admitted to myself.
"Do you think I am?" I replied.
She sighed. "Despite what you may see in romance novels or romantic comedies, I do not see jealousy as a good thing. In fact, most of the time it's someone lashing out due to their own insecurities." She frowns a bit. "Besides, as I told you, I don't do girlfriends. Nor do I sleep with my submissives, or anyone. Friday and Saturday night were exceptions. It won't happen again, cupcake." I can hear the resolve behind her soft, sultry voice.
I purse my lips at that and can't think of a reply.
"So nothing you want to discuss now? About the contract."
"No." I reply petulantly.
"God, I'd like to give you a good hiding. You'd feel a lot better, and so would I."
"You can't say things like that... I haven't signed anything yet."
"A girl can dream" I could hear her smile over the phone. Carmilla sighed quietly. "Sweetness," she whispers. "What are you doing to me?"
"I could say the same to you," I whisper back, hanging up.
"Laura?" she whispers as I open the door. She takes one look at me and throws her arms around me.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying? You never cry." She retrieves my brush from the side table, and sitting behind me, very slowly starts brushing out the knots.
"I just don't think our relationship is going to go anywhere." I stare down at my fingers.
"I thought you said you were going to see her on Wednesday?"
"I am, that was our original plan."
"So, what happened?"
"I don't think I want to see her anymore."
"Why? I thought she was all smitten as a kitten for you."
I frown. Carmilla, smitten with me? Hardly. She's just looking for a new toy - a convenient new toy that she can bed and do unspeakable things to. My heart tightens painfully.
This is the reality.
"She wants different things than I can provide."
"Laura, I don't understand, you just let her make love to you?"
"No, Betty, we don't make love - we fuck - Carmilla's terminology. She doesn't do the love thing."
"I knew there was something weird about her. She has commitment issues."
I nod, as if in agreement. Inwardly, I pine. Oh Betty... I wish I could tell you everything, everything about this strange, sad, kinky woman, and you could tell me to forget about her. Stop me from being a fool.
"I guess it's all a little overwhelming," I murmur. That's the understatement of the year. Because I don't want to talk about Carmilla any more, I ask her about Jamie. Betty's whole demeanor changes at the mere mention of his name, she lights up from within, beaming at me.
"He's coming over early Saturday to help load up." She hugs the hairbrush, boy has she got it bad, and I feel a familiar faint stab of envy. Betty has found herself a normal man, and she looks so happy.
I turn and hug her.
Work at the bookstore comes to a drop-off as most employees are going home for the summer and only a skeleton crew is needed for the few insane students who think summer courses are a good idea. Soon enough, however, it's Wednesday and she's picking me up from work so we can go have dinner together.
Carmilla is leaning casually against the bar, drinking a glass of white wine. She's dressed ina silver blouse, black jeans, black boots, and black jacket. Her hair is as tousled as ever. I sigh. Of course she looks gorgeous. I stand for a few seconds in the entrance of the bar, gazing at her, admiring the view. She is beyond beautiful. She glances, nervously I think, toward the entrance and stills when she sees me. Blinking a couple of times, she then smiles a slow, lazy, sexy smile that renders me speechless and all molten inside. Making a supreme effort not to bite my lip, I move forward aware that I, Laura Hollis of Clumsyville, am in heels. She walks gracefully over to meet me.
"You look stunning," she murmurs as she leans down to briefly kiss my cheek. "A dress, Miss Hollis. I approve." Taking my arm, she leads me to a secluded booth and signals for the waiter.
"What would you like to drink?"
My lips quirk up in a quick, sly smile as I sit and slide into the booth - well, at least she's asking me.
"I'll have what you're having, please." See! I can play nice and behave myself.
Amused, she orders another glass of Sancerre and slides in opposite me.
"They have an excellent wine cellar here," she says, cocking her head to one side.
Putting her elbows on the table, she steeples her fingers in front of her beautiful mouth, her gray eyes alive with some unreadable emotion. And there it is... that familiar pull and charge from her, it connects somewhere deep inside me. I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny, my heart palpitating. I must keep my cool.
"Are you nervous?" she asks softly.
"Yes."
She leans forward.
"Me too," she whispers conspiratorially. My eyes shoot up to meet . Nervous.
Never. I blink at her, and she smiles her adorable lopsided smile at me. The waiter arrives with my wine, a small dish of mixed nuts, and another of olives.
"So, how are we going to do this?" I ask. "Run through my points one by one?"
"Impatient as ever, Miss Hollis."
"Well, I could ask you what you thought of the weather today?"
She smiles, and her long fingers reach down to collect an olive. She pops it in her mouth, and my eyes linger on her mouth, that mouth, that's been on me... all parts of me. I flush.
"I thought the weather was particularly unexceptional today," she smirks.
"Are you smirking at me, Ms. Karnstein?"
"I am, Miss Hollis."
"You know this contract is legally unenforceable."
"I am fully aware of that, Miss Hollis."
"Were you going to tell me that at any point?"
She frowns at me.
"You'd think I'd coerce you into something you don't want to do, and then pretend that I have a legal hold over you?"
"Well... yes."
"You don't think very highly of me at all, do you?"
"You haven't answered my question." At my reply, her playful smile disappears.
"Laura, it doesn't matter if it's legal or not. It represents an arrangement that I would like to make with you - what I would like from you and what you can expect from me. If you don't like it, then don't sign. If you do sign, and then decide you don't like it, there are enough get-out clauses so you can walk away. Even if it were legally binding, do you think I'd drag you through the courts if you did decide to run?"
I take a long draft of my wine.
"Relationships like this are built on honesty and trust," she continues. "If you don't trust me - trust me to know how I'm affecting you, how far I can go with you, how far I can take you - if you can't be honest with me, then we really can't do this."
Oh my, we've cut to the chase quickly. How far she can take me. Holy shit. What does that mean?
"So it's quite simple, Laura. Do you trust me or not?" Her eyes are burning, fervent.
"Did you have similar discussions with um... the fifteen?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because they were all established submissives. They knew what they wanted out of a relationship with me and generally what I expected. With them, it was just a question of fine-tuning the soft limits, details like that."
"Is there a store you go to? Submissives 'R Us?"
She laughs.
"Not exactly."
"Then how?"
"Is that what you want to discuss? Or shall we get down to the nitty-gritty? Your issues, as you say."
I swallow. Do I trust her? Is that what this all comes down to - trust? Surely that should be a two-way thing. I remembered her snit when she thought I phoned Danny.
"Have you eaten today?"
I stare at her. Honesty... Holy crap, she's not going to like my answer.
"No." My voice is small.
She narrows her eyes.
"You have to eat, Laura. We can eat here or in my suite. What would you prefer?"
"I think we should stay in public, on neutral ground."
She smiles sardonically.
"Do you think that would stop me?" she says softly, a sensual warning.
My eyes widen, and I swallow again.
"I hope so."
"Come, I have a private dining room booked. No public." She smiles at me enigmatically and climbs out of the booth, holding her hand out to me.
"Bring your wine," she murmurs.
Placing my hand in her, I slide out and stand up beside her. She releases me, and her hand reaches for my elbow. She leads me back through the bar and up the grand stairs to a mezzanine floor. A young man in full Heathman livery approaches us.
"Ms. Karnstein, this way please."
We follow her through a plush seating area to an intimate dining room. Just one secluded table. The room is small but sumptuous. Beneath a shimmering chandelier, the table is all starched linen, crystal glasses, silver cutlery, and white rose bouquet. An old-world, sophisticated charm pervades the wood-paneled room. The waiter pulls out my chair, and I sit. She places my napkin in my lap. Carmilla sits opposite me. I peek up at her. "Don't bite your lip," she whispers.
I frown. Damn it. I don't even know that I'm doing it.
"I've ordered already. I hope you don't mind."
Frankly, I'm relieved, I'm not sure I can make any further decisions.
"No, that's fine," I acquiesce.
"It's good to know that you can be amenable. Now, where were we?"
"The nitty-gritty." I take another large sip of wine. It really is delicious. Carmilla Karnstein does wine well. Carmilla does a lot of things well, particularly with that mouth. I blush at the intrusive thought.
"Yes, your issues." She fishes into her inside jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.
My email.
"My sexual health. Well, all of my previous partners have had blood tests, and I have regular tests every six months for all the health risks you mention. All my recent tests are negative. I have never taken drugs. In fact, I'm vehemently anti-drugs. I have a strict no-tolerance policy with regards to drugs for all my employees, and I insist on random drug testing."
Wow... control freakery gone mad. I blink at her shocked.
"I have never had any sexually transmitted infections. Does that answer your question?"
I nod, impassive.
"Your next point I mentioned earlier. You can walk away any time, Laura. I won't stop you. If you go, however - that's it. Just so you know."
"Okay," I answer softly. If I go, that's it. The thought is surprisingly painful.
The waiter arrives with our first course. How can I possibly eat? Holy Moses - she's ordered oysters on a bed of ice.
"I hope you like oysters," Carmilla's voice is soft.
"I've never had one." Ever.
"Really? Well." She reaches for one. "All you do is tip and swallow. I think you can manage that." I blush scarlet. She grins at me, squirts some lemon juice onto her oyster, and then tips it into her mouth.
"Hmm, delicious. Tastes of the sea," she grins at me. "Go on," she encourages.
"So, I don't chew it?"
"No, Laura, you don't." His eyes are alight with humor. She looks so young and carefree right now, completely unlike the suave and aloof woman I met at first. I'm glad to see past that facade.
I reach across and pick up my first ever oyster. Okay... here goes nothing. I squirt some lemon juice on it and tip it up. It slips down my throat, all seawater, salt, the sharp tang of citrus, and fleshiness... ooh. I lick my lips, and she's watching me intently, her eyes hooded.
"Well?"
"I'll have another," I say dryly.
"Good girl," she says proudly.
"Did you choose these deliberately? Aren't they known for their aphrodisiac qualities?"
"No, they are the first item on the menu. I don't need an aphrodisiac near you. I think you know that, and I think you react the same way near me," she says simply. "So where were we?" She glances at my email as I reach for another oyster.
She reacts the same way. I affect her... wow.
"Obey me in all things. Yes, I want you to do that. I need you to do that. Think of it as role-play Laura."
"But I'm worried you'll hurt me."
"Hurt you how?"
"Physically." And emotionally.
"Do you really think I would do that? Go beyond any limit you can't take?"
"You've said you've hurt someone before."
"Yes, I have. It was a long time ago."
"How did you hurt them?"
"I suspended them from my playroom ceiling. There's always the risk of nerve damage and didn't say anything about going numb because she wanted to impress me instead of calling her yellow safe-word. In fact, that's one of your questions."
Suspension - that's what the carabiners are for in the playroom. Rope play.
I hold my hand up begging her to stop.
"I don't need to know any more. So you won't suspend me then?"
"Not if you really don't want to. You can make that a hard limit."
"Okay."
"So obeying, do you think you can manage that?"
She stares at me, her dark eyes intense. The seconds tick by.
"I could try," I whisper.
"Good." She smiles. "Now term. One month instead of three is no time at all, especially if you want a weekend away from me each month. I don't think I'll be able to stay away from you for that length of time. I can barely manage it now," she pauses.
She can't stay away from me? What?
"How about, one day over one weekend per month you get to yourself - but I get a midweek night that week?"
"Okay."
"And please, let's try it for three months. If it's not for you then, you can walk away anytime."
"Three months?" I'm feeling railroaded. I take another large sip of wine and treat myself to another oyster. I could learn to like these.
"The ownership thing, that's just terminology and goes back to the principle of obeying. It's to get you into the right frame of mind, to understand where I'm coming from. And I want you to know that as soon as you cross my threshold as my submissive, I will do what I like to you. You have to accept that and accept it willingly. That's why you have to trust me. I will fuck you, any time, any way, I want - anywhere I want. I will discipline you, because you will make mistakes. I will train you to please me. And I know you've not done this before, so we'll take it slowly, and I will help you. We'll build up to various scenarios. I want you to trust me, but I know I have to earn your trust, and I will."
"But you say I have to be trained, makes me feel like I'm some sort of pet for your... amusement."
"I know the terminology might seem a bit imposing - it's to help you get into the mindset, it means anything goes. Within our negotiated limitations."
"Some of this seems really scary."
"I know, sweetness, but... you've gotten to the wax play scene in that fic I suggested? It looks really scary at first, but once you realize the relative harm is minimal, and you feel the heat upon your skin and see the pretty designs I can do with different colors..."
She's so passionate, mesmerizing. This is obviously her obsession, the way she is... I can't take my eyes off her. She really, really wants this. She stops talking and gazes at me.
"Still with me?" she whispers, her voice rich, warm and seductive. She takes a sip of her wine, her seduction eyes holding mine.
The waiter comes to the door, and Carmilla subtly nods permitting the waiter to clear our table.
"You see, there's a very fine line between pleasure and pain, Laura. They are two sides of the same coin, one not existing without the other. I can show you how pleasurable pain can be. You don't believe me now, but this is what I mean about trust. There will be pain, but nothing that you can't handle. Again, it comes down to trust. Do you trust me, Laura?"
"Yes, I do." I respond spontaneously, not thinking... because it's true - I do trust her.
"Well then," she looks relieved. "The rest of this stuff is just details."
"Important details." She seemed ready to give a slightly frustrated sigh, but stopped herself.
"Okay, let's talk through those."
My head is swimming with all her words. I should have recorded this on my phone so I can listen back to this. There is so much information, so much to process. The waiter re-emerges with our entrees: black cod, asparagus, and crushed potatoes with a hollandaise sauce. I have never felt less like food.
"I hope you like fish," Carmilla says suggestively.
I make a stab at my food and take a long drink of my sparkling water. I vehemently wish it was wine.
"Why can't I touch you?"
"Because you can't."
Carmilla's mouth sets in a mulish line.
"Is it because of Mrs. Robinson?"
She looks quizzically at me.
"Why the hell would you think that?" And immediately she understands. "You think she traumatized me?"
I nod as she rolls her eyes.
"No Laura. She's not the reason. Besides, Mrs. Robinson wouldn't take any of that shit from me. She'd probably know exactly how to get over... well, be more okay with being touched."
Oh... but I have to. I pout.
"So it has nothing to do with her." She took a sip, willing the conversation to change.
"Do you want to go through the soft limits now too?"
I shake my head. "Not over dinner."
She smiles.
"Squeamish?"
"Something like that." I reply.
"You've not eaten very much." I try to not frown at her judgment.
"I've had enough."
"Three oysters, four bites of cod, and one asparagus stalk, no potatoes, no nuts, no olives, and you've not eaten all day. I need to know you're taking care of yourself."
Jeez. She's kept an inventory.
"Carmilla, please, it's not every day I sit through conversations like this."
She bit her tongue as she seemed to back-pedal. "I need you fit and healthy." She's got a fair point there.
"I know."
"And right now, I want to peel you out of that dress."
I swallow. Peel me out of my dress. I feel the pull deep in my belly. Muscles that I'm now more acquainted with clench at her words.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I murmur quietly. "We haven't had dessert."
"You want dessert?" she snorts.
"Yes."
"You could be dessert," she murmurs suggestively.
"I'm not sure I'm sweet enough."
"Cupcake, you're deliciously sweet. I should know."
"Ms. Karnstein. You're using sex as a weapon. It really isn't fair," I whisper, staring down at my hands, and then looking directly at her. She raises her eyebrows, surprised, and I see she's considering my words.
"You're right. I do. In life you use what you know. Doesn't change how much I want you. Here. Now."
How can she seduce me solely with her voice? I'm panting already - my heated blood rushing through my veins, my nerves tingling.
"I'd like to try something," she breathes.
I frown. She's just given me a shit load of ideas to process and now this.
"If you were my sub, you wouldn't have to think about this. It would be easy." Her voice is soft, seductive. "All those decisions - all the wearying thoughts you have to process and judge and decide - if you were mine, you'd be free from that. That's what I'd do as your Dominant. And right now, I know you want me, Laura."
My frown deepens. How can she tell?
"I can tell because... "
Holy shit she's answering my unspoken question. Is she psychic as well?
"... Your body gives you away. You're pressing your thighs together, you're flushed, and your breathing has changed."
Oh, this is too much. I am betraying myself to her.
"How did you know about my thighs?" My voice is low, disbelieving. They're under the table for heaven's sake.
"I felt the tablecloth move, and it's a calculated guess based on years of experience."
I flush and stare down at my hands. That's what I'm hindered by in this game of seduction. She's the only one who knows and understands the rules. I'm just too naive and inexperienced. My only sphere of reference is fictional: Elizabeth Bennett would be outraged, Jane Eyre too frightened, and Tess d'Urberville would succumb, just as I have.
"I haven't finished my cod." I said, hoping to distract her.
"You'd prefer cold cod to me?"
My head jerks up to glare at her, and her dark eyes burn molten silver, with compelling need.
"I thought you liked me clearing my plate."
"Right now, Miss Hollis, I couldn't give a fuck about your food."
"Carmilla. You just don't fight fair."
"I know." She says with a shrug, "I never have."
Fine, I think, raising the hem of my dress under the table, two can play at this game. Carmilla raises an eyebrow at me in question as I hook my thumbs around the waistline and shift my weight and pull my panties down my thighs, letting it drop to my ankles as I feigned her classic look of indifference.
"What am I doing with my thighs now?" I boldly ask.
Her mouth drops as she pants in need. Her voice comes out calm, too calm. "Laura. What are you doing?"
I slip my left foot through and reach down to pick the panties off of my right ankle and palm them as I put them into my purse. They were already getting wet.
"I'm enjoying having this private room to ourselves."
Carmilla shifts in her seat.
"I think you're toying with me, Miss Hollis."
I feign innocence as I lick the tips of my fingers. "I do enjoy fish."
The waiter chooses this moment to knock and, unbidden, enter. She glances briefly at Carmilla, who frowns at her but then nods, so the waiter clears our plates. The waiter's arrival has broken the spell. And I grasp this precious moment of clarity. I have to go. Our meeting will only end one way if I stay, and I need some boundaries after such an intense conversation. As much as my body craves her touch, my mind is rebelling. I need some distance to think about all she's said. I still haven't made a decision, and her sexual allure and prowess doesn't make it any easier.
"Would you like some dessert?" Carmilla asks, perfectly polite, but her eyes blaze with their hidden meaning.
"No, thank you. I think I should go." I stare down at my hands.
"Go?" She can't hide her surprise.
The waiter leaves hastily.
"Yes." It's the right decision. If I stay here, in this room with her, she will fuck me. I stand, purposefully.
Carmilla stands automatically, revealing years of ingrained civility.
"I don't want you to go."
"Please... I have to."
"Why?"
"Because you've given me so much to consider... and I need some distance."
"I could make you stay," she threatens.
"Yes, you could easily, but I don't want you to. You want me to willfully consent, which means my mind cannot be drunk on desire."
She runs her hand through her hair, regarding me carefully.
"You know, when you fell into my office to interview me, you were all 'yes ma'am, no ma'am'. I thought you were a natural-born submissive. But quite frankly, I'm not sure you have a submissive bone in your delectable body, cupcake." She moves slowly toward me as her speaks, her voice tense.
"You may be right," I breathe as she stands imperiously over me.
"I want the chance to explore the possibility that you do," she murmurs, staring down at me. She reaches up and caresses my face, her thumb tracing my lower lip. "I don't know any other way, Laura. This is who I am."
"I know."
As she drove me back to my dorm, it was silent. I was glad to have the time to think to myself, while catching myself give coy glances over to the fallen angel beside me, whose ideas of love were too wicked for me to rationalize. And I can't think clearly when all I want to do is just give myself over to her and fall under the spell of her seduction eyes. I don't trust her with my body; not entirely, not like that. I wasn't certain I could ever go back and enjoy 'vanilla sex' if this was as good as she said it could be.
We get back to my dorm and she's opening the door for me before I even realize that the car had stopped. I get out and try to thank for her for dinner when I realize we're way too close and my eyes are locked onto hers, leaving me paralyzed for the briefest moment.
She leans down to kiss me, but pauses before her lips touch mine. What? Kiss me... Carmilla's eyes searched mine, wanting, asking permission. I raise my lips to touch hers, and at the contact she kisses me and because I don't know if I'll ever kiss her again, I let go - my hands moving of their own accord and twisting into her hair, pulling her to me, my mouth opening, my tongue stroking her.
Fireworks seem to be going off in my chest as we are kissing each other with complete abandon. Her hand grasps the nape of my neck as she deepens the kiss, responding to my ardor. Her other hand slides down my back and flattens at the base of my spine as she pushes me against her body. We melt together right then and there and I feel like I forget where she ends and I begin as I catch my breath. I feel drunk off of her kiss. "I can't persuade you to stay?" she breathes between kisses.
"No."
"Spend the night with me." I feel the tug as her voice made the barest inflection change and I knew it was how she'd command me, if she put more strength in it. I can't, not like this.
"And not touch you? No."
She groans.
"You impossible girl." She pulls back, gazing down at me. "Why do I think you're telling me goodbye?"
"Because I'm leaving now."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
"I have to think about this. I don't know if I can have the kind of relationship you want, Ms. Karnstein."
She closes her eyes and presses her forehead against mine, giving us both the opportunity to slow our breathing. After a moment, she kisses my forehead, inhales deeply, her nose in my hair, and then she releases me, stepping back.
"As you wish, Miss Hollis," she says, her face impassive. "I'll walk you to your door."
She holds out her hand. Leaning down, I grab my purse and place my hand in hers. Holy crap, this could be it. I follow her through the doorway and into the lobby, hands sweating, my blood pumping. This could be the last goodbye if I decide to say no.
My heart contracts painfully in my chest. What a turnaround. What a difference a moment of clarity can make to a girl.
"Thank you for dinner," I murmur.
"It's a pleasure as always, Miss Hollis," she says politely, though she looks distant in thought, completely distracted and perhaps bored.
As I peer up at her, I commit her beautiful profile to memory. The idea that I might not see her again haunts me, unwelcome and too painful to contemplate. She turns suddenly, staring down at me, her expression completely blank and unreadable.
"Before you leave..." My voice is hoarse from unbidden, un-shed tears - jeez I'm not going to cry. I give her a small smile. I open the door to my dorm and retrieve the book she gave me, complete with my quote in reply that seems inappropriate now. "I can't accept this; I could get a car for as much money you spent on this."
"It was a gift, Laura." She says, but accepts the book anyways.
"Goodbye, Carmilla." My chest was burning with the need to not do this, to turn away from this decision as I closed the door and rested my forehead on the frame around it. I can hear her boots clatter as she walks away, the footfalls going quiet as I let my chest constrict and tears flow from me. The sobs I had been choking back pour forth as I make my way back to my bed.
I really didn't understand why I was crying. I was holding my own. She explained everything. She was clear. She wants me, but the truth is, I need more. I need her to want me like I want and need her, and deep down I know that's not possible. I am just overwhelmed.
I don't even know how to categorize her. If I do this thing... would she even be my girlfriend?
Will I be able to introduce her to my friends? Go out to bars, the cinema, bowling even, with her? The truth is, I don't think I will. She won't even let me touch her and she won't let me sleep with her. I know I've not had these things in my past, but I want them in my future.
And that's not the kind of future she sees.
What if I do say yes, and in three months' time she says no, she's had enough of trying to mold me into something I'm not? How will I feel? I'll have emotionally invested three months, doing things that I'm not sure I want to do. And if she then says no, agreement over, how could I cope with that level of rejection? Perhaps it's best to back away now with what self-esteem I have remaining.
But the thought of not seeing her again is agonizing. How has she gotten under my skin so quickly? It can't just be the sex... can it? I dash the tears from my eyes. I don't want to examine my feelings for her. I'm frightened what I'll uncover if I do. What am I going to do?
As I prepare for bed, I get an alert on my phone that I received an email from Carmilla.
I don't understand why you ran this evening. I really hope I answered all your questions to your satisfaction. I know I have given you a great deal to contemplate; and I am certain that you will give my proposal your serious consideration. I really want to make this work. We will take it slow.
Trust me.
Carmilla Karnstein
Her email makes me weep more. I am not some merger; not... acquisition #16. Reading this, I might as well be. I don't reply. I just don't know what to say to her. I fumble into my PJs, and climb into bed. As I lie staring into the darkness, I think of all the times she warned me to stay away.
'I don't do the girlfriend thing.'
'I'm not coming over all hearts and flowers...'
'I don't make love.'
'This is all I know.'
And as I weep into my pillow silently, it's this last idea I cling to. This is all I know, too.
Perhaps together we can chart a new course.