Out of the Dungeon (14 page)

Vanessa and Roman didn't talk as they rode
down the elevator together after seeing Jeff. It seemed like he was
as lost in his thoughts as Vanessa was in hers. She broke the
silence when they reached the street. "I hate seeing him like
that."

"Tell me about it," Roman said. "I hate
leaving him. One of the nurses told me he cries when I leave. I
hate it that I can't take him home and fix everything, just like
that." He snapped his fingers.

"Everyone has their limitations, even you,
Roman," Vanessa said. Even her, she mused, even with Suede.
Vanessa's phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out.
Suede calling. Damn, was the woman psychic?

But… no. "'Nessa, how's Jeff?" Suede asked,
in an odd voice with mushy words.

"Off the vent. Awake a little more," Vanessa
said. "What are you doing?"

"Still partying with Paul. Wanna come back?
You should come back. And bring beer, because we're out."

Vanessa took the phone away from her ear and
stared at it. Was she kidding? She rolled her eyes for Roman's
benefit, and begged off. "Sorry, love, I'm not getting back up your
way. I'm bushed. Going home to bed."

She clicked off, then looked at Roman. "I
don't get it. I just don't. She asks me to leave work early today
to hang out with her, then she invites some guy over, and he brings
coke, and so when they started getting fucked up, I left. Now she
wants me to bring over some beer. What, I'm the liquor delivery
service? And all along, I'd thought she was inviting me over for,
you know, something else entirely. Argh!"

"Feel better now that you got that off your
chest?" Roman asked.

"Maybe. This whole day has been frustrating.
I don't know what I expected when I saw Jeff, but not what I got.
He looks so… bad. Damaged. I thought I'd feel relieved to see him,
but I just feel a sense of dread for what he has yet to get
through."

"I know," Roman said softly. "I go home and I
can't sleep. I wish I could trade places with him, because I know
I'd have the strength for what's to come. Being the supportive
person while he has to do all the work is not my preference."

"On the other hand," Vanessa said, "you do
know how to motivate him. So instead of looking at yourself as the
supportive person, maybe you should view yourself as his physical
therapist. Or his trainer."

Roman smiled. "Yeah, maybe. So. You're
heading home?"

Vanessa shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm not
going on a beer run for Suede, that's for sure. It's like you said,
I guess. A game. Or an escape."

"It's always an escape," Roman said. "Don't
blame her for that part."

Vanessa sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I get that. The
thing is… I honestly thought she was inviting me for, you know,
play."

"So you got your head geared up for
that."

Vanessa laughed. "And my courage."

"Of course," Roman said. "And there's a huge
let down."

"Turned to absolute disgust just now when she
calls me smashed and asks me to bring her beer. I mean, I subbed
for her on the stage, and yeah, she got me off, but being pushed to
the side and then sent on a beer run is not submissive, it's
doormat. That's not me. And I'm not going to be that for her."

"Let's get coffee and talk through this
more," Roman suggested.

Vanessa suddenly felt embarrassed. She hardly
knew Roman, and shouldn't dump all this crap on him. "I'm sorry.
I'm keeping you from going home."

"No, you're not. There's nothing waiting for
me at home. I'd go to the club before I'd go home, and you should
talk through this stuff with someone. You need to define what your
idea of submissive is, make sure you're not looking for the wrong
thing."

"Are you standing in for Jeff again?" Vanessa
asked.

He shrugged. "Not on purpose. It's the kind
of conversation I enjoy. You'd probably rather talk to Jeff, but if
not him, than who? Suede?"

Vanessa shook her head. "Not Suede. Not
tonight, at any rate."

"So come on. Let's go hash out what you
really want. I've heard everything. You won't embarrass me, and I
won't think less of you."

Vanessa wasn't sure if it was the best idea,
but if she didn't talk about it, she'd lay in her bed and her angry
thoughts would circle and race and keep her awake. And who better
to talk to about this stuff than Roman? After all, he had these
talks with clients all the time, right?

"Besides, I have these conversations with
clients all the time," he said, with a sly smile, as if he'd
guessed what she was thinking.

She laughed. "Mind reader. All right. Coffee
it is."

Vanessa was expecting Starbucks or a hole in
the wall cafe, but Roman flagged a cab and it let them out at
Roman's building. "You're going to make me coffee again?" she
asked.

"Shouldn't have this kind of talk in public,"
he said. "It's not comfortable. So it's either my office at the
club, your place, or my place. I figure you've been to my place
often enough that we'd both be comfortable there."

Vanessa didn't have any reason to disagree.
Besides, he had fancy coffee.

They didn't talk while the coffee brewed,
both waiting to get settled before starting the conversation.
Vanessa carried cups into the living room and sat on the couch.
Roman followed with an insulated coffee carafe and took the
recliner. The coffee accoutrements went on a small table in
between.

Roman started. "So. What do you think you're
looking for?"

"Activity or person?" Vanessa asked.

"Either," he said. "Usually I am the person,"
he grinned at her, wolfish and naughty, "so let's go with
activity."

Vanessa blushed. She didn't know where to
start. "Well. I don't think I'm looking for serious pain, so no
single tails, no nipple clamps, no electricity."

"Rape scenarios?" Roman asked. "Medical
fantasy?"

Vanessa shuddered. "No. And no."

He laughed. "Disobedient girl that needs to
be spanked?"

She thought about it. "Maybe. Or like…
willing girl that disappoints somehow, and knows she's going to get
paddled. Or flogged. I liked the feeling of both of those
instruments."

So you want to know what's expected of you,
and also have an idea of what punishment you earn if you fail?"

"Yeah, I guess. Kind of. Oh, I don't know how
to explain it. I don't exactly want to know, I mean, if punishment
was always the same, then an element of nervousness would be
removed, you know?"

"I know. We have the brush."

"Oh yes. Jeff has told me about the dreaded
brush."

Roman smiled. "The brush is a punishment
tool, but it's not the whole punishment. I lead up to it with
something else, something unexpected. And yet, they know the brush
is coming, and they hate it, so they're compliant with anything I
ask, maybe in hopes that I'll forget all about the brush. But I
never do. The brush is held in reserve for specific transgressions,
and since a Master has to be consistent to be fair, it is always
used for those transgressions."

Vanessa was curious. She'd heard Jeff's point
of view about the brush, but getting Roman's was interesting.
"What's the criteria, then?"

"Outright disobedience. Lying to me. Using
profanity. And specifically for Jeff, using his safeword."

"Profanity," Vanessa mused, then quoted
something Jeff had told her. "Because what we do is beautiful, not
profane."

"Exactly," Roman said.

"Why for using his safeword?"

"Jeff and I don't always enjoy the same
activities. Some things I do for his enjoyment, most things,
actually, but some things I do for mine. We are equal complements,
Master and slave, and there has to be equal reward. I don't want
him using a safeword to get out of doing something he doesn't like.
I know what he can handle. And I know well what he likes and what
he hates. The brush for instance. He might enjoy immensely whatever
punishment precedes the brush, then safeword the beating. So I have
him set up. He can use his safeword to get out of doing something,
or get out having something done to him, but that choice has its
own consequence. He has to trust me to watch him carefully and to
know when he's reaching his limits. He has to let go."

Vanessa nodded. It made an odd kind of sense,
how a submissive could use a safeword to wrest power from the
Dominant, or even to top from the bottom. Which gave her something
else to not want. "I don't want to top from the bottom. I mean, I
don't want to draw up a list that says, first tie me up, then tease
me with a feather, then drip hot wax on me, and don't let me climax
for twenty minutes. I want to be able to trust that I am safe, but
I don't want to run the show, or know every detail of the agenda.
In that respect, I'm not all that sure how good I would be at some
kind of role play. Even the willing girl who disappoints would be
awkward if there was too much set up or some kind of script."

"But you're interested in feathers and candle
wax? Sensation play?"

"Well, sure," she shrugged. "And I want to be
loved. And I want the person who's in charge to love what they're
doing, and get off on doing it."

"What about sex?" Roman asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Some people want to be spanked, flogged,
ordered to suck a cock dry, but they don't want actual sex."

Vanessa shook her head. "Stupid question,
coming from you, anyway. There was no resolution for me the other
night until we did the naughty deed."

"All right. You need someone who enjoys
providing aftercare."

"When did we switch from what to who?"
Vanessa asked.

Roman grinned. "Sorry. Just sounds like what
you really want is less and less Suede."

Vanessa looked down to where her hands were
clasped in her lap, and thought he might be right. "Yikes. Let's go
back to activities."

"Bukkake?" he asked.

"What the hell is that?"

"Bunch of guys come on you at once. Like a
circle jerk, kind of."

"Ew. No."

"Bondage? Shibari, the intricate rope
bondage?"

"Maybe."

"Limbs tied, blindfold, public
humiliation?"

"Not sure about the humiliation. The rest,
okay."

"Anal penetration?"

Red-faced again, she wanted to say no, wasn't
that up there with humiliation? But truth was, her masturbatory
fantasies almost always included it, because it seemed like the
ultimate way to submit. "I don't know. Carefully, maybe. Like I
said, I'm not looking for major pain."

"Lotta ways around pain," Roman said, and he
was grinning, damn the man.

"Sucking cock, eating pussy?"

She shrugged. "Kind of scary, but maybe good
scary."

"Swallowing come?"

"Never been good at that," she said.

"So is it a yes or a no?"

"No. Probably."

R
oman was having fun
with her, and maybe she knew it, maybe she didn't. He was throwing
out activity options quickly, watching her face, trying to learn
her expressions, so he could figure out how truthful she was
being.

"How truthful are you being right now?"

She glared at him, and he thought he might
even see some temper. "I'm trying!"

"Why is it hard to be truthful?"

"Because most of the stuff you're asking me
about is theoretical, ideas, fantasies. I don't know if I'd like
them or not."

"You only have to tell me if you like the
idea."

"I don't have to tell you anything." Oh yeah,
she was getting uncomfortable to the point of getting pissed.

"Two holes filled?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Three holes filled?"

"Same answer."

"Butt plugs?"

She grabbed a blanket off the end of the
couch and wrapped herself in it.

"Maybe. Little ones."

"Cock in your mouth, dildo in your pussy,
plug up your ass."

"Roman!"

"Just asking."

"Fuck you," she said. "You're
overstepping."

He went still, and let his silence and
stillness settle over the room. He counted silent seconds, to see
how long it would take her to notice that she was the one who just
overstepped.

One one-thousand.

He'd badgered her on purpose. She'd gone to
Suede's hoping for BDSM play, and had been disappointed.

Two one thousand.

He considered taking her on. He could give
her the kind of experience she wanted.

Three one thousand.

She was like a lot of other subs, in the
sense that she wanted her Dominant to know her well enough to
anticipate what she wanted, almost like reading her mind.

Four one thousand.

And she wanted her Dominant to love her, make
her feel cherished.

Five one thousand.

But would she be able to give back something?
Understand that she should learn to anticipate his needs, as well,
and meet them? And love him in return?

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"For what?" he asked.

"For using profanity."

Roman smiled to himself, but kept his face
serious as he looked at her. "This is my home. Profanity defiles
it."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"And how do I punish the use of
profanity?"

"The brush," she whispered, eyes huge, her
whole face registering shock.

He nodded, watching her face. This was the
telling moment. Would she submit to him? Was the chemistry
right?

She shook her head, but it was almost as if
she shook her whole self, breaking free of the spell they'd just
woven around each other. "Thank you," she said. "But no." Then she
gave him a sad smile, and the moment was gone.

The lights seemed brighter, and the intensity
faded in a rush of relief. It might have been nice to have her as a
submissive, but yes, it was way too complicated.