The Things People Do…
A Dariarotic
Story by The Caneman
All Characters Copyrights of MTV/Viacom
CHAPTER ONE
“Jane, what the hell is going on?” Daria
demanded as she stood at the door of Jane’s apartment. She was tired and angry, and Jane thought she
saw dried tear stains on her friend’s cheek.
“Look, Daria, it’s three in the morning,
I’m exhausted, and I have a class at nine. I swear to God, I’ll explain
everything after I get some sleep,” Jane pleaded, as she tried to pull her
jacket closed even tighter than before. Her boots couldn’t be hidden as well,
but she tried to keep her friend from looking anyway.
“Dammit, Jane! I can understand you have your own life, and
to be honest, I don’t care what you do, but when
Jane sighed and stepped back. Daria watched
as she removed her black leather trench coat, revealing the outfit she was
trying to conceal. Her eyes widened as she saw the tight leather dress, wide
belt with countless rings, and the elbow length black leather opera gloves. Jane
turned, and blushed as Daria looked at the heavy leather spiked dog collar she
had loaned her several months ago.
She was speechless for several minutes. “Are
you a prostitute, Jane?” she finally managed to say, as she removed her old
leather jacket and sat down. She looked around the apartment, taking stock of
the things she’d ignored before. The
big screen TV in the corner and her new stereo system, the top-of-the line PC.
All things an average college freshman couldn’t afford.
Jane removed her collar, and sat down on
the sofa to unlace her boots. “No, Daria. At least not the way you’d think,”
she said, pulling off the stiletto-heeled creations. “Ahhhhh, that
feels good! I’ve been wearing those all night!
Do you want a drink?”
“Ordinarily, no. But after seeing you like
this, I’ll make an exception,” she replied flatly. Jane grinned weakly and went
to a sideboard and removed a bottle of wine and two glasses. Handing one to
Daria, she plopped down in the chair across from hers and drained the glass.
“You still haven’t answered my question,
Jane. Yes or no, are you a prostitute? You’re my friend, and I care about
you.” She drained her glass as well, and
Jane refilled both.
“God, Daria, of all the people I’d hoped
would never find out, you’re at the top of the list. All right, Yes, I take
money from men to ‘do things for them’, but it’s not like I hang out on corners
or anything! I have a small clientele that I service on a regular basis.” From
the look on her friend’s face, it was the wrong choice of words. Jane cursed,
and ran her hands through her hair.
“So you’re a ‘call-girl’. I see. Well, in
that case, I guess I was overreacting then, huh?”
“Dammit, Daria! It’s hard enough having to
tell you this as it is! It’s not like
I’m giving out blow-jobs in cars down on
Daria looked away, as she swished the wine
around in her glass, unsure of what to say next. “So, will you tell me how you got yourself
into this? I promise to keep the smart comments to myself. Please?” her eyes
begged.
Sighing, Jane began. “It all started a
couple of months after I came to BFAC…”
CHAPTER TWO
“
“Buuuuutttt…” Jane said silently.
“But, we also have to ensure that we maintain
our academic integrity when it comes to the rest of the curricula we offer. I
understand that starting later in the year can pose some daunting challenges for
a new student, and after seeing your transcripts from high school, I realize
that you’ve got some problems that we need to address. Simply, you’re not
keeping pace with the rest of the class, and at this rate, you’ll never make it
off of academic probation. You have to bring your combined grades up by at
least forty percent or we’ll be forced to consider some alternatives,” the
matronly woman concluded. “Please don’t fret, dear. I know how hard it is being
a college student too. Now, what are we going to do about these grades and your
attendance?”
Jane yawned, drained from her night job
stocking groceries at Food Lord. “Ma’am,
I’ll be the first to admit that I never was the greatest at math, especially
trigonometry, and I’m trying as hard as I can, but my student loans barely
covers tuition and books, and unless you waive the fees for the dorm, I’ll be
living on the street! I have to keep that job just so I can keep up with my
credit card bills, car insurance, and food. No offense, but the cafeteria food
here is, well, bad.” Jane pled, hands out pleadingly.
“None taken. The food there hasn’t improved
since I was a student here. And I understand about the financial realities of
living in this area. But I have some fairly strict guidelines to follow, and
you’re simply starting to fall behind the curve already. We need to strike a
balance between work and school here, and I have to caution you that if this
doesn’t improve, you may have to reconsider your choices.” She was gentle but firm, as she handed Jane
the printout.
She showed her out, and Jane walked dazedly
out of the administration building, too tired to be angry. She glanced at her
watch and cursed. “Oh damn! I’ll be late for
She was grateful that she wasn’t the only
straggler today, and was thus spared another demerit. “Now all I have to do is
stay awake,” she thought grimly, as he began speaking.
“All right, people. Last week we began our
study of the natural ratios present in nature, and how they can be defined and
applied. I wanted some concrete representations of how the ancient Greek
sculptors achieved balance through knowledge of the mathematical ratios
inherent in Archimedes theorem…” he droned, as Jane battled fatigue.
“Oh Gawd!
I can barely remember last night, much less this crap! I’m freakin’
doomed!” she thought desperately as one of the brown-nosers in front raised her
hand and answered. Jane was glad that, at least for the moment,
Her cheeks burned with shame as her
classmates suppressed titters. Professor Taylor glared, and the room fell
silent. “As I was saying, I will have an assistant for the rest of this block
of instruction, one of my former students and fellow artist, Alison-“
“Just Alison, Professor Taylor. I find using
my surname is pointless in the art world. Hello, people. I’ve been asked to
help contribute what I’ve learned since graduating from BFAC, and see if we can
make some of this stuff make sense to you.”
She smiled slyly at Taylor, who blushed a bit before clearing his
throat.
“Ahhh…Thanks, Alison. As my charming, and
ever out-spoken associate here so bluntly put it, she’ll be working with us to
make some sense of the abstract principles of the Golden Form. That is, if some
of us can remain awake long enough to absorb them. That about wraps it up for
this session, I expect to see some demonstration pieces, in a variety of media,
by this time next week.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” she cursed
silently, as she sheepishly descended the stairs to the floor. Exhaustion and
overwork had taken its toll on her faculties, and she didn’t recognize who had
just been introduced until she dragged herself down to the floor. Her eyes
widened in surprise, as Alison smiled mischievously. “I’ll wait until you’re
done here,” she purred.
“Hey, stranger! Wait up! Long time no see,
Jane. I’d ask how you’re doing, but one look pretty much explains it all,” she
smirked, “Don’t let him fool you, Bob is really just a big softie deep down. He
just does it to keep the students from knowing that until it’s too late. Can I
buy you a cup of coffee? You look like you need it.”
Jane was about to let her know what she
could do with her cup of coffee, but
Alison’s tone was sincere, and Jane was really in no mood for a fight. “Ahhh,
what the hell. Alright, but I still feel the same way. No offense,” she said
cautiously.
Alison smiled warmly as she replied, “Hey.
It’s water under the bridge, right? Come on, you look like you’re about to pass
out. How long ‘til your next class?” she asked as they walked out of the room.
Jane closed her eyes as she replied, “In
about fifty minutes. If I make it that long, that is.” They were soon sitting down in a little café
in the Student Union building, and Alison asked, as soon as Jane had taken a
few sips of the triple-espresso she’d bought her,
“So, how’s it been going with you? I was
kinda hoping you might get in touch with me, you know?” Seeing Jane’s warning
look, she added quickly, “No, no, no, not for that! Look, Jane, I’m sorry for
what I said and did back there, but that’s just the way I am. I like you for
who you are, and I have a lot of respect for your work. That’s what I meant,
not to ‘get in your pants’. Friends, right?”
Jane grudgingly assented. “Yeah, friends.
Whatever. I’m sorry if I seem a little out of it, because I am a little out of
it. I didn’t realize that an art college would be so, so,-“
“Hard? Well, you can’t forget that it is a
real college, and not one of those poser diploma mills that advertise on
daytime TV. Listen, I’ve been where you are, and believe me, I know what you’re
going through. From the tone Bob had when he was dressing you down, you’re not
doing so hot, huh?” she asked, as she took a sip from her cup.
Jane blearily nodded,
“It’s not really the academics that are getting to me. It’s the fact I have to
work so much just to keep my head above water, and try to keep up with the
workload, I never have enough time for sleep. I’m not so sure I’ll be able to
hold out much longer.” She looked at her
watch, and made a face. “Listen, Alison, it really is good to see you, but I’ve
gotta jet now, or I’ll be late for Trig. I’ll see you next week, okay?” she
said, as she hefted her book bag.
“Jane, wait. What if I told you that I may
be able to help you out,” Alison replied, as she touched Jane’s arm. “Something
that’ll give you enough time to rest and study, as well as give you the time
and resources to keep doing what you want to do, not what the professors here
want to see. Would you be interested?”
“Alison, thanks, but I’ve already had a job
doing knock-offs already, and it didn’t take long for me to get so burned out I
was ready to hang up my easel. I’d love the money, sure, but I feel a little
bit of me dies when I do that kind of work. Thanks, though.”
“It’s not that, Jane. It’s something I found
when I was a student here. It’s fairly easy, and you get to make your own
hours. I think you’d be able to fall right into it without any problems. You’ve
got the right attitude for the job, as well as some other qualifications as
well.” She looked at Jane directly, with a sly smile on her face. “And you can
easily make ten times as much as what you’re pulling down now. Guaranteed.”
“I don’t know. Food Lord does pay pretty good
for night stockers, and I don’t have to deal with all that many people when I
work. What is it?”
“Well, I really don’t want to discuss that
right here. The way I got the job was, I knew somebody in the business, and
they brought me in as a favor. I figure since our little ‘misunderstanding ‘, I
owe you one. Let me give you my number, and when you have a little time, we can
talk, okay?” she smiled warmly, and Jane was too tired to be suspicious. She
dug out a small notepad and handed it to her.
“Okay! I’ll be going around and tormenting
my old teachers here for the day, but I’ll be at my hotel around six. Give me a
call, and we’ll get together. No, that’s not what I meant,” as she saw Jane’s
look again. “This is purely business. And you’ll be dealing with a lot of
artists and people who can really help you out down the road. Trust me.” She
gave Jane a friendly wave and walked away, leaving her holding the slip of
paper, debating whether to toss it or not.
“What the hell,” she said, and slipped it
into her pocket. Checking her watch , she groaned and hurried away.
CHAPTER
TWO
By now, Jane was working on her third
glass, and Daria, her second. During her
description of the events of that day, she’d exchanged her leathers for short
kimono with a dragon motif.
As Daria had relaxed and been drawn into
Jane’s tale, she had pulled off her boots, and they were sprawled on Jane’s
enormous leather couch.
As she sat back down after refilling their
glasses, she looked apprehensively at her friend as she said, “Uh, Daria?
There’s a few other things I do now, that I didn’t do before,” as she pulled an
ashtray over and pulled a leather pouch from the pocket of the robe.
“Oh, God, don’t tell me…” Daria exclaimed in
horror. Jane looked at her oddly as she pulled a cigarette from the pouch,
lighting it with an elegant golden lighter. “I know, I know. It’s a stupid
habit. I picked it up from one of my clients with a smoking fetish, and I find
when I drink, I get a craving,” she said sheepishly.
“That’s not it. I thought…I thought you were
going to do some drugs or something. You had me scared for a minute there.
Sorry. Doesn’t that hurt your running?” she asked, taking another sip.
“I guess. I really haven’t had time, to be
honest. I don’t smoke that much. Only for him, and times like now. I figure
I’ll know it’s time to stop when I start hacking like
Daria got up and refilled her glass, “He
didn’t really bug me about it, but he did ask if I’d seen you lately. I
wouldn’t have come over tonight if I didn’t lie to him and say I did. There
goes that conscience of mine that I don’t have, again. I haven’t seen or talked
to you in over a month, Jane. I even called the Registrars Office to see if
you’d dropped out. Then I found out you were on a two-week leave of absence.”
She sat down next to her, and fished a cigarette out of the pouch, and examined
it carefully. “In
“Dammit, Daria! What I do is so much
different! It’s not like I let these bastards pump me like I’m some crackhead
whore they picked up on the corner! And how the hell did you find out I went to
“I’m sorry it keeps coming out like that. As
for getting that information, I just told them I was your mom. They even told
me your G.P.A. had risen to 3.0 this quarter. I’m impressed.” She replied
flatly.
“You told them you were my mom? And they
believed you? Didn’t they ask you for some proof?” Jane demanded incredulously.
“They know your mom. When they asked , I
just started talking about butterflies, and spirits and crystals. I figured she
hasn’t called since you got here.” Daria fished out the lighter, and played
with it a bit.
Jane laughed ruefully. “I shoulda figured
you’d know that. All right, I’ll admit
that what I’m doing now is not what I had in mind when I went to college, yeah,
but it’s not the same thing you’re thinking about, Daria.”
“Let’s see. You’re now a dominatrix. If I’m
not mistaken, that means you dress in kinky clothes, tie people up and abuse
them, thus giving them sexual gratification, in exchange for money. And that
part about sexual gratification in exchange for money? That’s sometimes
referred to as prostitution. When you live with a lawyer your whole life, you
pick up on these things, you know?”
“All right, if it makes you feel better,
yeah, I’m a prostitute. But dammit, I’m high class! I got started with the very
best people in the business. My clients
are wealthy, powerful, intelligent people who appreciate my special talents.”
Jane said defensively.
“And
those talents are? No wait, maybe I don’t wanna know.” Daria replied softly, putting the cigarette
and lighter back down. She sighed, and gazed at her friend sadly. “Jane. I
didn’t come here to judge you. I came because, I, well… I’m worried, and scared
for you. I mean, I don’t have a helluva lot of friends as it is, and when my
best one becomes a, let’s say, “Adult entertainer”, I think I have a right to
be.”
Jane sat silently, thinking about what to say
next. Grinding out the cigarette, she picked up her wineglass carelessly. It
slipped out of her hand, splashing Daria in the lap.
“Oh crap! I’m sorry! Here, let me get a
towel,” she exclaimed, as she ran to the kitchen.
“It’s okay, Jane. These jeans have seen worse,
believe me.” Daria replied. They bumbled around trying to sop up the wine on
Jane’s red leather couch. “Here, Daria, let me get you something dry to wear.
It’s still freezing, and it’d really suck if you got pulled over smelling like
a winery.”
“No, it’s okay. Besides, the only thing you’d
have that would fit me is your grandma’s old nightgown, remember?”
“I still have that, you know.” Jane teased.
“No, really! I’ve got some stuff that really is one size fits all. Trust me. At
least until your pants dry out a bit. And besides, you’re too drunk to drive,
young lady. I’m gonna have to make you sleep over. It’ll make up for all the
times we missed the last couple of months, Daria. I was planning on taking the
day off tomorrow, and knowing you, you wouldn’t miss a day, would you? Come on,
it’ll be like old times!” she added quickly, startling Daria.
“Uhhh, okay? I guess I could. It might help
me to see where you’re coming from on this whole “dominatrix” issue. I mean,
who wouldn’t love a job where you get to beat people up, and get paid for
it? I mean besides becoming a cop.” Jane laughed, and gave her an odd look before
motioning her to follow.
“Oh my God! Quinn would have an aneurysm if
she saw this closet!” Daria exclaimed, as her friend rifled through hangers.
“Where the hell did you get all this stuff? There has to be hundreds of clothes
in here!” Jane sheepishly handed her a
simple black skirt and shrugged.
“It’s the nature of the beast, I guess. A lot
of this crap comes from my clients, gifts mostly, but some of it is by
request,” as she displayed an elaborate leather creation that under no
circumstances could be worn in public. “And since you’re here, I have a little
present I was gonna send you on your birthday.”
Daria took the elegantly wrapped box Jane had
produced as she gazed in horrified amazement at the closet’s contents. “ You
shouldn’t have. I couldn’t get you anything for yours, remember?” she blushed.
“There goes that mercenary attitude of yours
again, Daria. You don’t have to get to give. I’ve been feeling bad about not
spending any time with you lately, and I wanted to give you something, to know
I still care.”
Daria opened the box, and frowned. “Jane. I
don’t want to seem ungrateful or anything, but what the hell were you thinking?”
she asked, holding up a shoe. It was a black leather pump, with a graceful
six-inch stiletto heel.
Jane grinned evilly, “I wanted to get you
something I know you don’t have, and would be too embarrassed to exchange. Besides, every woman should have at least one
pair of “come-n-get it’s” in their life. Besides, wouldn’t you just love to see
the look on that Robert fella you’ve been seeing.” Jane frowned at her friend’s scowl.
“We stopped seeing each other not long after
you stared doing this. Oh no, it wasn’t anything bad,” she said, seeing the
look on Jane’s face. “Just went in separate ways. I don’t think either of us
noticed the difference, anyway. Don’t worry about it, and thank you, Jane.
These will go right along with that dog collar I’ve had since
“Oh yeah, your little conversation piece. I
forgot I still had that. You know, it’s funny, but even though I’ve probably
got at least fifty of the damn things floating around, I always seem to be
wearing that one when I ‘go to work’. Here it is,” she said, picking it up off
the floor.
“Oh great. I’ll be thinking of that now every
time I look at it. You don’t mind, do you?” Daria asked as she held it. Jane
laughed, and handed her the skirt. “If you want, I could try and dig up a pair
of sweatpants instead,” she offered.
“No, this’ll be fine for now. Your place
appears to have heat, I notice. My dorm is having some furnace problems, so a
night here won’t bother me. Although, technically, it’s morning.”
“It’s not daytime until I go to bed, dammit!”
Jane laughed. “You can change in there. I’ll get us some more wine, okay?”
“Breakfast of champions. Sure, why not? I’ll
be out in minute.” Jane took the shoes and dog collar and set them on the table
by Daria’s old leather jacket. “The neighbors will think I’ve got a new
‘friend’ if they see her walking out with this stuff,” she chuckled to herself.
A mental image of her friend in the combination appeared, and Jane felt a
strange urge.
“She’s my best friend.” She shook off the
thought, and busied herself with cleaning off her couch and opening a fresh
bottle of wine. She watched the sun rise above the
“I have missed her. What am I doing?” she
exclaimed, to the feelings and urges she couldn’t shake.
“Doing what?” Daria asked, as she padded
quietly into the room barefoot. Jane turned, and nodded. The little skirt
hugged her hips snugly under the grey shirt Daria had on. “This thing feels
like I’m being groped all the time. I wasn’t sure it’d fit. I’ve seen bigger
outfits for Quinn’s Barbie’s, to be honest.”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud. Where
were we?” Jane asked as she sat down, and carefully sipped her wine. Daria was
looking at herself in one of the mirrors that were on the wall. “I forget.
Probably me being hyper-critical about something my friend is doing, and generally
being a pain in the ass,” she replied, taking a gulp of wine. “I want to see
something. Hold on.” She looked around and spotted the shoebox. Jane felt her
heart skip a beat as she ambled over and sat down, opening the box.
Slipping them on, Daria got up and unsteadily
wobbled over to the couch, exclaiming, ”How the hell do you walk in these
things? It’s like trying to balance on a basketball!” she giggled, as she
plopped down on the couch.
“It takes some getting used to, I’ll admit.
When I was seeing that jerk Nathan, I had to give myself a crash course in that
area. Just take little steps, and before too long, you’ll get the hang of it.
Trust me on this one, I have to wear stuff like that on a regular basis.”
She trembled as she sipped her wine. “Stop
that!” she screamed to herself, “She’s my friend, my best friend. My only REAL
friend anymore, and I’ve got to stop thinking about it!” She felt her crotch
moisten and she moaned softly as Daria stood up and carefully walked up to the
mirror, taking tiny, delicate steps.
Unconsciously imitating Quinn as she looked
at her feet and legs, Daria whistled appreciatively. “Well, as odd as it may
sound coming from me, I like them. They’re painful, impractical, and
embarrassing, but, as my sister would say, “They make my legs look hot”. And
Jane, if you ever catch me quoting Quinn again, promise me you’ll hit me hard.
I must be getting drunk.”
Jane was silent as Daria tottered over to
the table and picked up her collar. Over her shoulder, she held it up and said,
“Whattaya think? It’d probably go with the dress, too,” as she fastened it
around her neck.
“It’s you, alright.” Jane finally managed to
breathe out huskily. “Oh man, you don’t know what this is doing to me. I don’t
even LIKE girls!” Daria tottered back to
the mirror and regarded her reflection intently. “Well, you’re the
‘professional’, Jane. What do you think? Could I give you a run for the money?”
she quipped.
“Well, it’s definitely a different look for
you, I’ll say that. As for the ‘run for the money’, I actually did have to have
some ‘professional’ training,” she replied, still gazing intently. “ Hard to
believe, but just whacking them with a baseball bat isn’t what you normally get
paid to do.”
“I kinda figured that. Besides, I told you
about the website I saw. Max was the one who saw the pictures. By the way, you
looked pretty good. Just pray Upchuck never sees them.”
Jane cursed softly. She knew what Daria was
talking about. “Look, it was a private party at on of the clubs in
“Hey, it’s alright, Jane. Compared to a lot
of the pictures I had to sort through, the quality was pretty poor. I really
had to look to recognize you. What’s it like?” she asked, as she unsteadily checked
her reflection over her shoulder.
“What’s what like?” Jane asked, unsure of
where this was going. She tore her eyes off of her friend and got another
cigarette out. Her hand was trembling as she lit it.
“You know, being a ‘dominatrix’,” she
accentuated the word with her fingers. “ Doing what you do. Tying people up,
and , you know…” Blushing again as she sat down, Daria took another swig of her
wine. “How did you start, first of all?
I mean, it was like , one minute you’re
Jane laughed, and for the moment set aside
her sensations as she explained, “ No, nothing on paper, except for my agent.
She’s a real talent agent, too. She handles this on the side, and I’d
appreciate it if this never found it’s way into print, okay?” she hinted. Daria
looked pensive, then nodded. Jane continued, “ Anyway, she was a classmate of
that girl I told you about from the art colony? Remember? Alison. She used to
be student here, and believe it or not, this is what she did to get through
college. I ran into her right after I got that warning from the Dean…”
CHAPTER
THREE
Jane ended up calling in sick to work that
night after finally getting home. She’d fallen asleep in two other classes and
drank so much coffee she was nauseous. “There has got to be a better way to do
this!” she wailed, as she wearily opened her book bag. A slip of paper fell
out, and she picked it up. “I don’t have time for this nonsense,” she muttered,
crumbling it up and tossing it away.
Her stomach rumbled and she padded over to her
tiny fridge. “
dollar bills and
handful of coins sorrowfully. “Guess that means pizza is out, too.”
Sitting back at her desk, she laid her head
down, and remembered something. Plucking the wad of paper out of the basket,
she dialed the number. “At least I can cadge a free meal off of her, anyway. As
long as she doesn’t expect anything,” Jane reminded herself sternly.
On the other end, Alison picked up her
phone. “Hello? Jane! I’m glad you called!”
“Yeah. Listen, I thought about what you said
earlier, and I’m willing to at least find out what this job is. I’m not like
gonna have to dump bodies in fields or anything do I?”
Alison laughed, “No, nothing like that! I
thought you worked nights? That’s what you said earlier.” She smiled as she
knew why Jane called. She remembered the mind-numbing grind of school, work,
and studying. “And you’ll be working in what one may say is a very artistic
field, in it’s own way. Listen, I’ll tell you what, there’s this little place
not too far off campus. The food’s incredible, and it’s really relaxing. My
treat, since I figured that’s probably why you’re calling, right?”
“You got me there. I’d appreciate it, and
anything has got to be better than stocking shelves when I should be studying
and working on my projects. Would you like to see some of my latest? I’ve got
some really cool new things, Alison, and appreciate your opinion.” Jane responded
carefully, trying to make it clear she was there to hear about this ‘job’, and
keep it on a professional level.
“I’d love to see what you’ve been doing,
Jane. And don’t worry about any
‘misunderstandings’ happening tonight. When I asked you if you’d be
interested in this, I meant it honestly. I’ll explain when you get there. I’ll
give you the address and see you there in, oh say, an hour?”
Jane wrote it down, and agreed, “Yeah, I’ll
be there. Uhhh, this place doesn’t have a dress code, does it? I’m sort of
clothing-challenged at the moment,” as she peered at her over flowing laundry
basket and empty closet, where a faded and torn red smock-jacket hung forlornly
besides an equally sad looking dress, a leftover from her time with Nathan.
“Yeah, it isn’t someplace you wear a t-shirt
and jeans to, but they’re not that fussy. Whatever, I’ll see you in a bit. I’ve
got to call ahead. See ya!” Alison hung
up and dialed another number. “Hello, Katy? It’s me, Alison. That girl I was
talking about earlier? Well, I’m going to meet her for dinner tonight. She’ll
be perfect for the job, I’m sure of it. I’ll let you know. Bye.”
Hanging up, she giggled as she thought about
what the look in Jane’s eyes would be later.
Meanwhile, Jane was having second thoughts
about what she was doing. “She’s a freakin’ bisexual, for crying out loud!” the
little voice in her head argued. “One who’s buying me dinner tonight, that’s
all. And if I gotta put on a little show
for her at this restaurant, what the hell,” she muttered sadly. “This’ll teach
me to do my laundry more often,” as she regarded her reflection in the cracked
mirror. The faded black dress clashed with her favorite clodhoppers wildly, and
she sighed and dug out a pair of ancient high heels.
“Grandma, you must have been one wild woman in
your day,” she thought, as she took one last look before walking out. As she
left her dorm, a few of her fellow students made appreciative comments, and she
heard a few wolf-whistles as she sashayed out, the heels giving her gait an
unusual bump-and-grind as she got used to them. By the time she reached the
restaurant, her feet were killing her, and her gaze was smoldering as she
announced to the maitre’d, “I’m here to see Alison, please.”
The formally attired gentleman raised an
eyebrow at the raven-haired young woman in the classic attire. He smiled, and
said, “You must be
The restaurant was in a Victorian house, and
in addition to a common dining room, there were private rooms, as well. She
followed him, trying to seem unconcerned as she silently longed to get off her
aching feet. He opened a door, and ushered her in with a casual flourish.
“Madame.” He bowed slightly, and closed the door behind her.
Framed by the high backed chair, Alison sat
in elegant repose, her arm tattoos covered by a long-sleeved red silk dress,
which displayed enough of her cleavage to reveal the head of an Oriental dragon
peeking above the neckline. Rising to greet her, Jane could see its tail
extending down her right leg, emerging from the abbreviated hemline.
“Jane! I’m glad you could make it! You look
great. Surprised?” she asked, indicating her outfit. She nodded dumbly, feeling
foolish that she may have been
overdressed for the occasion.
“You were expecting the muscle shirt and
high tops? “ Alison laughed. “That’s me most of the time, kid. This.” She
spread her hands wide, indicating their surroundings, “Is another facet of my
life. Another shade, if you will. I’ve found that sometimes appearance really
is everything, as long as it gets you what you want in the end.”
Jane sat, and smiled weakly. “As long as it’s
not my end that you’re wanting. I know you said there weren’t going to be any
‘misunderstandings’ tonight, but I’m starting to feel funny…”
“Don’t. This is strictly business tonight,
Jane. We’ll order now, and talk when you’ve got something in your stomach,
okay?” Alison replied warmly. In due time, they had finished, and Alison
continued, as she swished her wineglass,
“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get
down to why I asked you to talk to me. You and I both know that with damn few
exceptions, most real artists can’t live off of their art. In a way, the
troubles you’re having now are a way of the school teaching you what to
expect. Even after you graduate, it’s
still an uphill battle to get recognized, get the galleries to show you, and
then, only then do you reap the rewards.”
“I don’t look at my art that way, Alison.
It’s not about the money, it’s about what I express. Someday they’ll see my
work for what it is, and not for how well I can schmooze people,” she frowned
defensively. “I don’t want to be rude, since you did feed me, but let’s get to
the point right now. What is this ‘job’ you’re not telling me about right now.”
Alison laughed deliciously, “That’s what I
like about you, Jane. You’re decisive, clever, and stubborn, three necessary
things to have for this job. Jane, I am a free-lance ‘personal consultant’, who
specializes in providing a certain service to an elite group of people. When
I’m not being Alison, the serious artist, I ‘m known as “Mistress Blaze”. I’m
what they call a ‘lifestyle dominatrix’.” She paused to light a cigarette as
Jane stared, open mouthed.
Alison continued,
“One of the professors at BFAC introduced me
to the scene, and soon I discovered a way to support myself very comfortably
while still learning, and doing my own work. At first, I did it because it was
strange, dangerous and wonderful. There are a lot of artists in the scene, and
I got a lot of work modeling.”
“ Then, one of the upperclassmen, a wonderful
lady named Katy, got me introduced to a select group of people, and soon I was
dominating professionally. How do you think I can afford to live like this? I
travel all over the world, stay in four star hotels, and I own three houses.
You don’t get that working eight hours a day doing ads for catalogs or
newspapers. When I started, I was making
two hundred dollars an hour. Before I knew it, I was pulling down a thousand or
better, as word got around the circle. Katy did for me, what I’m doing for you
now.”
“She opened up the door to a whole new
world for me, one where I made the rules, and men who ordinarily would have
looked through me, were more than willing to pay to have me treat them like the
pigs they are. Are you interested?”
Jane sat back, absorbing her speech. She
knew what a dominatrix was, from the pornos she'd steal from
“I’m not sure. Alison, are you trying to say
you’re a prostitute or something? And you’d like to know if I’d be interested?
What do you think my answer was gonna be?” she answered slowly, as she prepared
to leave.
“Jane, does a common prostitute dress like
this? Does she eat at restaurants like this? Travel, houses, cars,
connections…The list is endless as to the differences between a prostitute and
a domme, sweetheart. For one thing, I’m the one who sets the rules. Time,
services, whatever. They do as they’re told to, or I never service them again.
I have a waiting list for the next two years of men who yearn to have me be
their domme. Most of them will never get the chance before I retire from the
business, and I plan on retiring soon. That’s why you’re here.”
“Me? I don’t want any part of this. Look,
it’s nice and all, but I don’t want to risk going to jail or having some pimp
slap me around ‘cause I didn’t make enough or something. Thanks for dinner, and
I’ll try to pay you back when I can.” Jane said quickly, rising from her seat.
“Doing what? Eighty hours a week at school
and stocking shelves, where they take nearly half your pay to buy five-hundred
dollar hammers? Give me a break, Jane. I’m offering you a chance to make
absolutely insane amounts of money to basically be your normal self!’ Alison
snarled.
“And that is?” Jane
challenged angrily. Alison smiled again, and laughed as she replied,
“A snotty little bitch who thrives on seeing
the suffering of others. To you, pain and humiliation is an amusing pastime,
which you justify as ‘expressing your artistic nature’. It’s the same excuse I
used when I was where you are. This line of work has no schools or training
centers, it’s all within the person. You either have it or you don’t, and you
Jane sat down, “And what exactly is this
mysterious “It” I have? So far all I’ve heard is some vague ramblings about
‘clients’ and ‘circles’. What are you, a madam or something? I don’t put out
unless I damn well feel like it, and I don’t appreciate someone coming along
and trying to exploit my weaknesses, Alison.” She was too tired to be angry
anymore, and her voice was tinged with bitterness.
“ I may be having a hard time now, but I’ll
get myself out of it , my own way, without having to get on my back to do it. Thanks for the meal, and good luck with
finding someone for your circle or whatever. Good-Bye!”
“Jane! Wait! Just listen to me for a
minute, will you? This isn’t like turning tricks at bachelor parties, or
streetwalking, Jane. These people, mostly men, but there are a few ladies as
well, don’t come here for a casual fuck, they’re here to realize an erotic
vision they have. It’s not as much sex as theatre. I’ll give you an example: I
have a ‘client’ who is the CEO of a large bank. He has a great job, houses,
cars, trophy wife; the whole nine yards. In his everyday life, Billions of
dollars, and millions of people’s livelihood depends on him being in charge,
all the time. At home, he’s expected to be the dignified, powerful man his much
younger wife married.
These people expect him to be ‘The Man’
twenty four seven. His problem is, deep down he releases himself through a
fantasy character he’s created for himself. Someone who isn’t the ‘Man’, who
doesn’t have to make decisions, someone who he isn’t.
*I* make him that person, for those few
hours of his life he has to himself, Jane. He surrenders ‘The Man’ at my
doorstep, and I give him some release from the realization he’s some over
bearing obnoxious SOB who lords over his company like a medieval fiefdom.
He’s never been here for the sex, though he
often gets *my* version of it occasionally. This man comes
for the release he needs.” She took a sip of wine, and sank back in her
chair, looking intently at Jane.
She sat dumbfounded by Alison’s twisted
logic, head buzzing from fatigue, confusion, and a good portion of wine. “So
you’re saying, you’re almost like a therapist, or something? Let me ask you, if
this guy was so unhinged, why didn’t he quit? Or see a shrink? I’m no rocket
scientist, but getting your ass kicked by a chick in boots doesn’t seem all
that healthy to me.”
“I like your description. On the one hand,
men like that don’t just quit when they’re having a hard time. On the other
hand, he did see a psychiatrist. Want to know what he told him?” Alison teased.
Jane merely shrugged.
“The good doctor told him to see me,” she
concluded, with an air of smug superiority. “Jane, I’m not trying to say I’m
Mother Theresa, and to be honest, it is a form of prostitution. When you sit where I do, you can get a
thousand dollars an hour for locking some sorry asshole in a little steel cage
while you call him names and occasionally abuse him.”
Jane laughed. “That sounds like something
Daria’d be good at. How do I know you’re not setting me up? I mean, your
story’s one thing, but…”
“Don’t tell me, show me? That sounds fair,
Jane. And smart. Even as tired as you are right now, you still want to maintain
control. A hundred other girls would have stopped listening after I said ‘a
thousand dollars an hour’. And you didn’t, because to do that would be to give
in, and the women in my circle aren’t known for that.”
“And what would you have done if one of
those hundred girls were sitting here right now, and not me?”
“That would never have come to pass. I chose
to invite you because I knew you had it. Back at the art colony, I knew it. You
don’t need to make any decisions right away, but I’ll need you to be thinking
with your head straight, Jane. I’m going to give you a thousand dollars
tonight. I repeat, GIVE you a thousand dollars. It’s not a loan, and I’m not
going to come back and say because of this…
I want you to take the week off if you can,
and if you can’t, quit. If you see what I have to show you, and still want no
part of it, I’ll help you get another job.
This weekend, I’m hosting a ‘party’ at a
friend’s house. It would be quite an educational experience, to say the least.
Jane, I swear, there are no strings attached. Will you come?”
CHAPTER
FOUR
“So, I take it you went.” Daria asked,
sprawled comfortably on the couch. Her new shoes were on the floor, removed
when the novelty wore off. Jane wondered if her friend was that drunk to notice
she’d forgotten to remove the collar as well.
Cradling her wineglass, Jane continued.
“Yeah, I went. And she wasn’t kidding, either. It was an educational
experience, to say the least. It was strange at first, but then I started to
really enjoy myself. I wished you were there! I asked if you could come. You
know, that promise to drag you to parties and stuff? She said not then, but
maybe later. You just haven’t lived until you see a sixty year old man dressed
as a French maid serve you hand and foot,” she chuckled.
“Thanks, I’ll pass! Just hearing about it is
bad enough. So are all your clients tough guy transvestites? Or just the ones
you talk about? It seems stupid to me, the way you describe it.” Daria asked,
as she brushed at her lap. “Damn, this is sticky. I need a washcloth or
something. Jane. That wine soaked me good.”
“If you want, you can take a shower. I’ve got
one of those waterfall showers that you just have to check out!” Jane exclaimed
happily. She escorted Daria to the bathroom and explained the workings before
retreating to her bedroom. “Dammit , Lane! What the hell are you doing? She’s
closer to you than your own freakin’ sisters!” she screamed at her reflection
in the mirror.
She darted into the living room and finished
her wine, as she heard the splash and tinkle of water coming from her bathroom.
She closed her eyes and pictured what she must look like, standing nude under
the cascade of warm water, hands cupped prayerfully to her face, eyes closed
like delicate clamshells, her long auburn hair streaming down her arched back
as the door opened, ever so quietly…
Jane stopped, her hand on the doorknob,
trembling slightly. “I take who I want, when I want, but what if who I want is
her?” she silently confessed to herself. Now she knew why the men came to her
to satisfy their desires. The water stopped, and she hurried back into her
bedroom and returned with a bathrobe, and tapped on the door.
“Yo, Daria! I have a bathrobe here. Do you
want I should just toss it in?” Jane asked huskily.
“Naw. You can come in, I’m *hic!* decent.”
Daria giggled, obviously intoxicated. Jane entered to find her friend wrapped
in a bath towel, trying unsuccessfully to wrap another about her head. She was
still wearing the dog collar. “I can tell you don’t drink all THAT much, do
you?” Jane chuckled, as she helped her friend.
“Nope. You must be a bad influence or
something,” she swayed slightly, as Jane got the towel in place. “Damn! That’s
something I’ve never been able to do, all my life! Quinn, she can toss them
damn thing in the air and it’ll practically fall in place,” she griped. “Same
thing with my mom. Hell, I’ve even seen my DAD wearing a towel like this! Ain’t
it a bitch?” she giggled again, and sagged slightly against Jane as she led her
out.
“Dammit Daria! This isn’t helping!” Jane
screamed silently. “I hope you’re not planning on passing out yet. We’ve still
got a lot time to make up, Daria. Weren’t you reading me the riot act when you
got here?”
“You’re right. But, wouldn’t be hypocritical
of me to slam you for all this, seeing as I’ve just now fallen in love with a
plumbing fixture? I’ve got to admit, Jane, when I came here, I was expecting a
lot worse.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Jane purred
as she deposited her friend back on the couch.
“You know. Stereotypical hooker things, like
needle marks, used rubbers, things like that. Or a pimp named Antwoine or Rico.
Back in Highland, some of the girls were turning tricks out of the parking lot
and it was a real hassle just getting from the curb to the door without at
least on indecent proposal.” Daria replied, as she tried to adjust the towel
around her body, with little success, as it kept slipping off and revealing her
breasts.
“Well, that does explain your attitude
earlier. And I guess I should apologize to you for attempting to rationalize it
away. If it walks like a duck… I’ve forgotten that you DO see things as they
are, and no fancy clichés are gonna change that. I am a prostitute. A very highly
paid one, but a prostitute nonetheless. And now I’ve got another problem.” Jane poured another glass. Daria held hers
out as well.
“And that is?” Daria asked, before taking a
swig.
“You know. And more importantly, you know
some pretty damaging details, as well. There were things I told you that never
should have been repeated aloud.”
“You know I’d never tell anyone, Jane. It’s
not like I’m Quinn. And let’s face it, I’m probably going to forget half this
stuff by the time I wake up anyway, so don’t worry,” she assured, giggling
again as her towel slipped back down.
“Daria, if I’m not mistaken, you ARE a
journalism student, correct? And journalists make their living by finding
exciting stories that sell newspapers and magazines, do they not?”
Daria nodded her head, with a slightly
confused look. “I don’t see where you’re going with this, Jane. I’m a
journalism STUDENT, yeah, but all that means is I get to assist with a column
once in a while, and learn now the business works. They’ve never even run one
of my stories, Jane. I’m basically a glorified proof-reader there. Not that
most of my classmates would notice, as I also have the dubious honor of
collecting the unread papers for recycling.:
“Still, don’t you think that a lurid tale of
college co-ed dominatrixes servicing the upper echelons of polite Boston
society wouldn’t sell papers? Especially with a first person interview? At
best, I’d be out of the business. At worst, well, we won’t go there now,” she
replied sadly. Daria’s eyes widened as she realized what Jane was saying.
“Jane! I didn’t come here to ‘interview’ you!
I came here as your friend! I’d never breathe a word of this to anyone,
especially the apes I have to work with! Even if I did, I wouldn’t have
submitted it, because it could only hurt you, and I’d never do that. Jane. I’m
your friend, and you’re mine. When we had the Tom thing, it probably hurt ME
more than you. I can’t go through that again. Jane, I, uhhh, dammit! I love
you! You’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had in my whole rotten life, and I
came here because I thought something was going to take you away from me,
again. That’s all.” She drained her
glass, and Jane thought she saw a tear
slide down her cheek.
“Daria. Nothings
going to ‘take me away’ from you, now or ever.” Jane said quietly, eyes staring
into space. “Tom didn’t. Evan didn’t, and Nathan didn’t. Sure, what I’m doing
now does take away what little time we did have together, but that was going to
pass, as I got more firmly established. I was going to be more available soon,
anyway. Summer is when our ‘season’ more or less ends, as our clients have
other priorities in life to attend to. I was going to ask you if you wanted to
come travel with me. See some things we might not have seen before, or ever.
I’ve had an opportunity to make some obscene amounts of dough, and I wanted to
spread the joy with you.”
“Huh! Well, Jane, I wouldn’t have said no, to
be honest. When I heard you’d gone to Paris, I’ll be honest with you, I was
jealous as hell. You probably don’t know it, but that city has been a dream of
mine. I mean, what life is complete until you’ve been snubbed by the rudest
waiters on the face of Planet Earth?” she replied, giving up on the towel, and
sitting there bare breasted.
Jane couldn’t resist anymore. “Hmmm, Amiga.
You’ve grown a bit since the last time I showered with you,” she commented,
referring to the locker room at Lawndale. Daria wiggled her chest, smiling
maliciously.
“Yeah, I know. You should have seen the look
on Quinn’s face when she saw ‘em over Christmas break. By the time I left, she
was already bugging mom for a boob job. Next time I go home, I’m wearing a
Wonder Bra.”
Jane laughed at that, then spoke
seriously. “Daria, I know you’d never
consciously do anything to hurt me, that’s true. But the circle I run in has
some very good reasons to remain more secretive than Skull and Bones. These
people simply can’t afford to have their private fantasies exposed, and they’ll
go to any means to keep their secrets.”
“So what you’re telling me is that now I’m
gonna be fitted with concrete shoes? I thought you said you were your OWN boss.
Or was that a lie, too?” she pouted, crossing her arms.
“No, Daria. No one’s sleeping with the
fishes, and I didn’t lie. It’s just these people can and will destroy your life
before you’d be able to do the same to them. They can make the Mob look like
boy scouts, if they so chose. They’re everywhere, in the courts, legislatures,
and businesses, especially the news media, for obvious purposes. They know how
to kill a story and make that writer wish they’d never written it, and all
without one broken kneecap. Even though I am my own boss, the circle does keep
an eye on each one of us.”
“What? Like there’s a car full of goons watching
your house? Or do they just bug your pad while you’re away? What are you
getting at Jane? If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working. And I don’t like
being scared, you know.” Daria shivered, and Jane handed her the bathrobe,
forgotten in her hands. Standing up, Jane stretched and yawned.
“Well, maybe not a CARful of goons, but the
circle does employ a few people to keep an eye out for funny business at our
homes. Y’see, I very rarely ‘entertain’ here. I rent a dungeon at one of the
private clubs in the city, or use the client’s own location. It’s for
everyone’s protection, just in case we do have some overzealous cops decide to
come in and ruin the party.
These people have contingency plans that’d
make Uncle Sam green with envy. Chances are, when you knocked on my door,
whoever was on watch last night saw you, and by now, my ‘agent’ has got a
dossier on her desk with things about you even your mom doesn’t know.”
“Like that’d be hard to do.” Daria chuckled
mirthlessly. “As I asked before, what are you getting at? Do you want me to
sign something? Even if I could remember enough of what you told me, whatever I
put out wouldn’t be believed, so your ‘people’ should just relax.”
Jane licked her lips as she thought of what
she was going to say next. “Daria, the only way they could be sure is to
either: A. Completely destroy any credibility you have now and will ever have,
or: B. Bring you into the circle to ensure your silence, by the fact that you’d
be in it yourself. To be honest, that’s really how I came to be where I am now.
When Alison took me to that first session, I was pretty much in the game, like
it or not.”
“Wow. That’s a hell of a choice. I don’t know
what to say about that. Are you telling me you’re beholden these people
forever? What happens later on? Or is there a later on for you?” she asked
fearfully. Jane smiled warmly, as she patted her arm reassuringly.
“There is a ‘later on’ for me. Alison brought
me in because she was getting ready to take herself out of circulation and
focus on her art. By the time she recruited me, she had assured the circle that
the secret was safe. For her to reveal anything now would be career suicide,
not to mention opening herself up to everything from solicitation to tax
evasion. She’s still ‘in’ the circle, but she’s transferred most of her clients
to the rest of us.
From what she told me, a dom’s career is
generally only a couple of years or so, and she’d passed that by long ago.
That’s why she took that crappy assistant instructor position at BFAC, to get
access to ‘new blood’. I found out that she’d been keeping an eye on me ever
since that art colony fiasco, remember?”
For a long time, Daria sat silently,
absorbing the information. “So, what you’re saying is, either I become a member
of your ‘circle’, or risk becoming a nobody overnight? How do you know I
couldn’t have done that all on my own? Becoming a nobody, that is.”
“Daria, I’ve been reading your stuff for
what? Close to four years now? You, my dear, aren’t about to become a ‘nobody’,
at least not by your own doing. And by now, my agent has probably read most, if
not all of your published work. I wouldn’t be surprised to get a phone call ten
minutes after you’ve left, do you know that? You’re now a threat to the circle,
and your options are limited, Amiga. Sorry,” Jane replied softly, as she
cradled her wineglass.
Daria still had her old dog collar dangling
limply from her hands. She played with it absent-mindedly as she mulled over
what her friend had just told her. Setting her glass down, she fished a
cigarette out of Jane’s pouch and lit it, coughing lightly. Jane’s eyes
widened.
“What the…? I thought you hated smoking? That
anyone who did deserved what they got?” she asked in surprise. Daria set it
down and took another swig of her wine.
“Yeah, but after that, I figured, what the
hell? If my career’s going to be ended before it begins I might as well start
my descent into Hell like everybody else does,” she replied sadly. “Besides,
when I was seeing Robert, he’d smoke like a chimney when we went to the clubs,
and I’ve tried it a few times, especially when I get drunk.” She picked up the
bottle and peered into it. “Speaking of which, since your little speech just
left me stone-cold sober, I need another drink, and this bottle appears to be
empty.”
Jane relieved her of it, and went to the
kitchen to get another. Peering at the label, she remarked, “Well, at least you
won’t have to worry about a hangover tomorrow. They always say the good stuff
doesn’t do that, and I’ll bet you don’t realize that we’ve both consumed close
to eleven thousand dollars worth of wine since you got here.”
“And I suppose when you order pizza now, it
comes in by air from Italy, too?” Daria said, flatly. “Eleven thousand dollars
for three bottles of wine? Maybe getting into your circle isn’t such a bad idea
after all. Too bad that once they see me, they’ll just opt for plan A, anyway.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, sister! Remember
when I was telling you about my dinner with Alison, and I mentioned your name?
Well, I meant it. You probably give out more effective abuse before noon than I
can during a whole week of sessions. And you do it for free. As for your looks, you’ve been frumping
yourself for so long you CAN’T see how beautiful you really are. All you’d need
is a little work to smooth out the rough edges and you’d be head and shoulders
with the rest of us.” Jane said, sitting next to her and taking her by the
arms.
“Thanks. But what does my keeping my
classmates in line have to do with what you do? And for a minute there, you
almost sounded like Quinn on one of her make-over fits. I like how I look,
because I don’t CARE how I look.” She
took another drag and put it out before taking another sip.
“What I plan to do
doesn’t require ‘a look’ of any kind, you know that. Besides, there’s no way I
could just ‘do it’ with some strange guy. I’m still kinda funny about anyone
touching me.”
“And that’s the beauty of it all, Daria. Sex
and touching are the LAST things these guys want or need. Basically, they need
to be reminded of what low class pieces of corporate, legal, or governmental
jerks they are, and you’re there to remind them of that. Sure, there are
exceptions to every rule, but let’s face it, when he’s chained to a pipe or locked
in a pillory, it’s not as if he’s gonna wrestle you to a standstill and dork
ya. I’ve only ‘given it up’ a few times
since I’ve started, and each time it’s because I wanted to, not them.”
“That’s an interesting way to put it. What
about if your client’s a woman? You mentioned that you had one. Doesn’t that
creep you out? Or are you over that incident with that Alison chick?”
Jane gave her a resigned look. “Damn Daria,
you sure know how to ask the hard questions. Yeah, one of mine is a woman. I
won’t tell ya what she does, but let’s just say you’ve definitely seen her
before. And yeah, I do sexual things to her, as part of the session. As for
Alison, let’s just say that she did more than just get me into this profession…
CHAPTER
FIVE
Jane had done as Alison suggested, and
called in sick for the rest of the week. She spent her time catching up with
her studies and sleep. Friday afternoon rolled around and she found herself
back in her dorm room working on a she’d begun when she first arrived, when the
phone rang.
“Hey Jane! It’s me, Alison. Ready for your
initiation tonight?” she laughed into the receiver.
“Sure. Whatever. So, what kind of party is
this gonna be? Do I dress casual, preppy, or what? I hope I don’t have to dig
out what I wore when we talked, cause I haven’t had a chance to take that to
the dry cleaners yet.”
“Oh, Janey, don’t worry about what to wear.
I’ll pick you up at seven and we’ll get you properly dressed for the occasion!
Be out front, I don’t like to be kept waiting!” she warned.
“Oooookay. I’m not gonna have to, you know,
DO anything tonight, am I? ‘Cause I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet,
Alison.” Jane set her brushes down, and wiped her hands, phone propped on her
shoulder.
“Oh no! You’ll just be a ‘guest observer’
this weekend. Just follow my lead, keep quiet, and you’ll see what I was
talking about. You’ll be with me the whole time, and my clients know better
than to ask. Don’t worry about taking anything more than lipstick and gum,
either. You won’t be needing much more than that. Oh, and you can leave your
camera home as well, that’s a big no-no where we’re going. See you at seven!”
“Damn!” Jane muttered as she hung up. “And I
was hoping to get some good shots for blackmail! Did she say the whole weekend?
Crap! I was supposed to meet Daria in Cambridge Saturday! Dammit, I hope she’s
there, I hate blowing people off on their answering machines.”
She’d
left two messages, and had just stepped outside when a dignified black
limousine pulled up, and Alison’s face appeared in the window.
“Let the driver get the door for you, Jane.
It’s what he’s paid to do, and you’ll need to get used to it,” she grinned.
Jane felt her cheeks redden as her dorm mates stared at her getting in.
“Well, that’s gonna really help me blend in
here. Why all this for a stupid party, Alison? I could’ve just met you there,
you know?” Jane asked, after climbing in. She looked around at the fittings and
furnishings inside. “Wow! This doesn’t look like any limo I’ve ever been in!”
“Of course not, Jane. This is a ‘real’
limousine, not some stretched out, glorified pimpmobile that they rent to kids
for proms. Wallace is my personal chauffeur, and I own this car. It has
features you’d never find on one of those tacky things. Drink?” she inquired,
indicating a small wet bar.
Jane sunk into the butter soft leather seat
and looked at Alison. Instead of the red silk of the evening before, or her
usual tank top and jeans, she was attired in an abbreviated “A” front leather
dress, obviously tailored to her, stockings with garters, and a pair of knee
high laced boots with cruel six-inch heels. Her arm tattoos were concealed beneath
the sleeves of a short leather jacket, and around her neck was a sparkling
diamond choker. Once again, the dragon head tattoo peered out from her bust
line, and its tail snaked around her leg.
“Like it? It’s all hand made, including my
boots. If we had more time, I’d take you on a proper shopping expedition, but
we’re a little pressed for time. Here, this is a little something I had kicking
around. It should fit you, and these shoes, too.” Alison indicated a small
bundle on the floor. Jane opened it and peered in.
Blushing, she said, “Alison, there’s no way
in hell I’m gonna wear that in public! What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”
“First of all, Jane, you’re not going to be
‘in public’, and what you’ve got on now, simply isn’t what the clients expect.
It’s either that, or you go nude wearing a dog collar. The choice is yours,
dear.” She sat back and sipped from a champagne flute, smiling sadistically.
Jane pouted, then sighed. “Okay, I guess. I
suppose this would be a little less embarrassing than that. I guess I can
change when we get there, I suppose.”
“No, you can get dressed right now. In fact,
I insist.” The tone of her voice indicated the matter wasn’t subject to
dispute. Jane looked sheepish.
“If Wallace makes you uncomfortable, I can
take care of that right now,” Alison said, as she pressed a chrome button, and
a screen rose, shutting off the view out front. “The tint in these windows is
enough to stare directly at the Sun. No one can see you now. Now, strip!” she
commanded, setting down her drink, and picking up a riding crop.
“And then I suppose you’re gonna get what
you wanted back at the colony, huh.” Jane replied coolly, not terribly
impressed with her choice of weapons. Alison just smiled, and tapped the bundle
with the crop.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. It all depends on how
you react to the session I have planned for tonight. Look, Jane, all of this is
part of the theatre of the absurd, and to observe it, one must look as though
one belongs. Humor me, put the outfit on, and maybe I’ll overlook this little
hiccup.”
“Humor you? Listen, you told me that if I
came, I’d have the last word on what happened there. Now you’re telling me to
give you a little striptease in the back of your car before putting on an
outfit Barbie would catch a cold in. You can let me out anywhere, I’m outta
here!”
Alison brought the crop down on the bundle
fiercely. Jane looked up, fear in her eyes.
“Jane, Jane, Jane. Here I am, offering you a
chance at becoming a very wealthy and well connected artist, and you throw it
back in my face. I’d let you out, but that’d just mean that I’d have to inform the circle that you’ve
decided to decline the invitation. And you had such a bright future too. Oh
well,” she trailed off sadly.
“What do you mean, ‘had such a bright
future’? I don’t need you or your stupid ‘circle’ to make it! I’ll do just
fine, thank you! Now tell your driver to pull over!”
“Jane, there was something I neglected to
tell you when we had dinner the other night. This ‘stupid circle’ of mine
includes some of the most powerful people on Earth, much less the country. As
it is, you know far too much to be allowed to just skip away, free to reveal
what little I’ve told you. Have you ever heard of Lise Bloom?”
The color had run from Jane’s face when
Alison had mentioned the phrase ‘you know too much,’ and her question confused
her. She shook her head.
“And you never will. You see, she once had
the same opportunity as you, but she chose to decline it. She was a great
artist, daresay better than you or I, and she was destined to go far. She made
it to the next step, where we’re going right now, when she decided it was
beneath her and her abilities. She walked away, thinking nothing of the
consequences.
And no, she didn’t mysteriously ‘disappear’,
or anything melodramatic like that. No, she just started to have a run of bad
luck. Really bad luck, if you know what I mean. Little things like her loan
paperwork suddenly developing problems, before being withdrawn entirely. Her
grades plummeted before that, despite some of the best work of her life. To
make a long story short, she ended up right where she began: in a hick town
where the cows outnumbered the people, and hope comes in a twelve-pack. Last I
heard, she was pouring coffee to horny truck drivers at the greasy spoon near
the trailer park she’s living in. On the plus side, it IS a double-wide, so
maybe your future isn’t quite so grim.”
Jane looked at her, eyes blazing. Alison
had spoken quite offhandedly, and she could sense that she wasn’t kidding. The restaurant, this limo, everything…She
closed her eyes, and pulled out the tiny leather outfit.
“God, you’re a bitch.”
“That’s what I get paid for, honey. Now,
shuck those duds and show momma the goods,” she smirked. Jane slowly began to
remove her clothes as the heavy automobile drove on into the night. They
finally pulled up to an ornate mansion overlooking the Atlantic. As she
dismounted, Jane looked at the angry grey breakers, as the cold wind cut into
her nearly naked flesh.
“Oops, I almost forgot!” Alison exclaimed
cheerfully, holding up a long leather leash. “Since you’re here as a ‘guest’,
we have a few rules as to how they’re permitted to observe. Should anyone question
your presence, you are to merely say ‘I am Alison’s slave’. No one questions a
Mistresses decision to bring along a pet to a session. Relax! If it makes you
feel any better, look at it as just another way people choose to express
themselves. Trust me, it’ll be fun. If you let it, that is.”
“Alison’s slave. You know, I’ve always
thought I had an open mind, but if mine opens any more, my brains are gonna
fall out.” Jane replied as Alison snapped the leash to the collar of the
harness she now wore.
“Come along, now, and mind your manners.
‘Slaves’ aren’t allowed to speak unless spoken to, you know,” as she strode in,
tugging the leash gently.
Jane stumbled, but caught herself, and
walked behind her, teetering on the stiletto-heeled shoes that were locked to
her feet by the ankle straps and tiny silver padlocks. The huge double doors of
the Victorian mansion swung open at their approach, and a heavy-set man wearing
the uniform of the Waffen-SS announced loudly, “The Dread Mistress Blaze enters!
All who await her beware! She has arrived!” He clicked his heels smartly, and
let them pass inside.
Jane unconsciously bowed her head in
embarrassment at the announcement and the doorman’s ridiculous get-up. “Very
good, Jane! Just keep doing that and you’ll blend in splendidly!” Alison
assured her in pleasant tone. Another man, dressed in a midnight black poet’s shirt, leather
pants, and knee-high riding boots, greeted her warmly.
“Ahhhh, Mistress Blaze! When I heard you
were coming to my humble soiree, I was overjoyed! Please, come and refresh
yourself before we begin. And this, I take it, is your new protégé? If you
desire, I can have her put in the dungeon until you require her services.” He
snapped his fingers, and two women attired in heavy leather outfits appeared at
his side.
Jane’s eyes bugged out, and she was ready to
bolt out the door as Alison replied, “That won’t be necessary, Lord Darksoul.
She’s quite the virgin, and I’ll be keeping her close to me this weekend.
Perhaps later, after the festivities commence, will the young lady be gracing
your ‘guest’ facilities.”
With a flourish, he led them into the
house, as the two women regarded Jane appraisingly. “What the hell was that all
about?” she hissed, as Alison led her inside. “Dungeon? Protégé? Virgin? And
what’s with all this ‘Mistress Blaze’ and ‘Lord Darksoul’ crap, anyway? And all
these people?” she trailed off, self-consciously, suddenly very aware of her
own nakedness.
“That, my pretty little slave, is the Master
of this house. He’s really an investment banker from Patchogue originally, but
after the first hundred million he can run around in a pink bunny suit
declaring himself the prom queen for all it matters. He’s on of the major male
dominants in my circle, and it’s his turn to host our monthly ‘house parties’.”
Alison explained as she led Jane past a group of naked men chained together, as
a diminutive redhead with a bullwhip led them away.
“As for the ‘stupid names’, they’re our
‘handles’ when we’re in our little world. Who’s gonna tremble at the might of
Mistress Mary Sue, huh? Or bow to the power and might of the Dread Lord Steve?
It’s a freakin’ fantasy world we’ve created here, and it’s all part of the
game. Pull your thumb out of your ass and just try to enjoy it, willya? Oh,
before I forget. Unless I put you somewhere under lock and key, you stay with
me wherever I go. You say nothing, you do nothing, unless I tell you. When I
sit, you kneel next to me. If someone tries to talk to you, you bow your head
and keep quiet. Understood?”
Jane nodded weakly, “Yeah, I understand.
This just seems so weird, though!”
“It’s ‘yes, I understand, Mistress’ from now
on, okay? Remember, I’ve got a rep here, and it just doesn’t do to have a
‘slave’ casually chit-chatting with a ‘Dread Mistress’ now, would It?” Alison
corrected her, giving the leash a firm tug. Jane scowled as she replied,
“Yes, Mistress. May I ask a question?” she
asked, with exaggerated politeness.
“You may. I may even answer it, too. What is
it?” she haughtily replied.
“Are you gonna be feeding you lowly ‘slave’
soon, or am I just gonna have to gnaw on one of the other victims in the
dungeon?” Jane asked softly, her stomach growling.
“Dinner will be served soon, and yes,
you’ll be fed. However, you might have to be a little creative in how you eat,
as ‘slaves’ aren’t normally allowed to use utensils. Just remember, it’s all
part of the game, okay? Now, keep quiet
and just watch what happens.” Alison explained, as she gave Jane’s leash a
sharp tug.
“Oookay, whatever you say, boss lady.” Jane
murmured, earning her a dark look from Alison, a.k.a. “Mistress Blaze”. They
walked over to the bar, and Alison snapped her fingers. The gorgeous blonde
bartender nodded and began mixing a drink. She delivered it, receiving a gentle
stroke of the cheek in lieu of cash. Jane’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“She wasn’t kidding! This is freakier than one of Trent’s pornos!” she thought
silently, as she fought the urge to guffaw at the sight of a forty-ish man
approaching, wearing what looked like a short legged wetsuit, high heel, and a
Farrah wig.
Alison noticed her stare, and beckoned him
over. “Why, hello Slut-Boy! I’ve heard you’ve been serving Lady Diabolique lately.
I don’t see her tonight? Or are you currently seeking a Mistress?” she asked
pointedly.
“Oh no, Mistreth.” The paunchy man replied, in
a comic lisp. “She’th in Loth Angeleth! Unfortunately, tonight I therve
Mithtreth Louwanna! Buuuuut, thince she’th buthy now, may I therve you?” the
apparition tittered. Jane was dying to laugh at the heavily made up man as he
pranced and minced about, waitin for Alison to speak.
“Why, yes you can, Slut-Boy. My slave and I
just came in, and haven’t had a chance to wipe the dust from our shoes yet.
Clean them. Now.”
She snapped her fingers and he fell to all
fours as if struck by lightning. Jane watched in sick horror as he
enthusiastically slobbered and kissed Alison’s boots, including the soles,
before she gave him a soft kick in the side if the head, and pointed at Jane’s
feet with her riding crop.
“EwwwwwwwwwwwwHey!” she exclaimed, as Alison
whacked her on the ass with the riding crop. “When I say ‘be quiet’, I mean it!
Just do as I say, Jane!” she hissed.
He had pretty thoroughly gotten her shoes
soaked, and was now sniffing her toes. “I wonder what you’d do if I’d stepped
in that big pile of horse-shit I saw outside-ooh, maybe I don’t wanna know!”
she thought, pulling a face. Alison looked at back at her, and tightened up on
the leash.
“And you want to know something, Jane? The
guy who just masticated all over our shoes? Does he look familiar to you?”
“Nooooo, but then again, not an awful lot of
guys I’d know dress like that. Should I?” she asked nervously, her face inches
from Alison’s.
“Understandable. I suppose that you really
haven’t really seen your Dean of Students all that much, being just another
lowly freshman, and all. Just don’t call him ‘Dean’ here. He gets flustered
easily, and he’s such a bitch when he gets in one of his moods,” Alison
chuckled as she let Jane’s leash out, and turned away.
She led Jane into a large room, dominated by
a huge wooden table. Two professionally attired caterers were laying out
silverware and glanced casually at the two young women before returning to
their task.
“Okay, Jane. What you just saw and heard
never leaves this house. That’s Rule Number One. The next thing you never do is
laugh at a client, or more importantly, a potential client. By the way, good
job back there. Right now, he doesn’t even know your name, but he’ll remember
your face ‘til the day he dies. I don’t know if that was disdain or nausea back
there, but you one thing you gotta know is, compared to some of the people you’ll
meet tonight, he’s considered on of the milder ones. Who likes to think he’s a
teen-age girl when he’s out for the evening,” she added, with malicious giggle.
“I thought I was gonna piss my pants when he
started sniffing my feet. That is, if I
HAD any pants to pee in, that is. And since we’re on the subject, show me where
the little girl’s room is, cause I gotta go.” Jane replied, with a bemused
smile. Alison giggled again, as she said,
“Follow me. You’re in for a special treat
now!” She quickly led Jane down a beautifully paneled hallway towards a room
where two husky women wearing executioner’s masks stood guarding the door. “One
for the water closet!” Alison chanted, as she handed the leash to one of them.
Jane looked in terror at her as she winked. “You’ll love it!” she mouthed as
she strutted away.
“In there, you!” the muscular woman grunted,
shoving her inside. “Full service on Mistress Blaze’s slave!” she barked, as a
thin man seized her leash and pulled her forward. Jane screamed as a ball gag
was jammed into her mouth, and her wrists were seized and pulled behind her.
Panicked thoughts raced through her mind as she felt the restraints being
fastened to her wrists. “She’s secured!” an androgynous form covered in red
latex cried out as they dragged her to the toilet.
“Has anybody told you…whatevers, it’s not
polite to stare,” she found herself saying to herself as she sat on the exposed
fixture. Four sets of eyes watched from holes in their thick rubber hoods. One
was rubbing it’s crotch until another heavily muscled women struck it, and it
whimpered pitifully.
“Oh, is Alison so getting it when I get out
of here. Love it, my ass!” she seethed as she finally voided, cheeks burning
with shame. The rubber-people lifted her off and cleaned her thoroughly. “Too
thoroughly!” Jane thought nervously as her rear was rinsed off yet again. One
of the rubber-people(no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t tell if they
were male or female beneath their thick costumes) bent forward and began to
clean her with it’s tongue. She closed her eyes as she felt it stroking and
exploring her.
“Enough!” the burly woman barked, giving the
rubber-person a brutal blow to it’s back. Jane’s eyes blazed at the woman’s
cruelty. “How’d you like to get it like that, bitch!” she snarled silently, as
the hooded ‘guard’ dragged her away from the toilet. She pushed her through
another door, and two heavily muscled men stood waiting, hooded like the women,
teeth bared in lusty grins as the ‘guard’ announced, “Clean and dry! This one’s
Mistress Blaze’s, touch her and die!” as she slammed the door.
“Alright, now it’s time for me to freak
out!” She screamed in her head.
Squealing as they seized her, she kicked at them vainly as they threw
restraints on her ankles and spread her legs wide. One disconnected the cuffs
behind her back and kept her struggles to a minimum as the other slipped the
end of a chain through the padlocks. Soon she was spread-eagle in the center of
the room, a blindfold firmly bound around her head. She could hear their
guttural laughter as they slammed the door behind them, leaving her alone.
“Now what? I could have just blown her off,
like I should have done, but no! I’ve gotta be stupid and go with that
fruitcake to this stupid fucking party! Dammit! If I get out of this I swear…”
Her wild thoughts were cut short by the sound
of a door opening and closing. She heard the lock click, and the sound of boot
heels on the hard wooden floor approached her. She froze in terror as they
stopped in front of her.
Jane felt the slightest brush of soft leather
across her breasts, and she shivered. “Please no!” she tried to shriek through
her gag, but the thick rubber ball allowed only a muffled squeal. The owner of
the boots remained silent, as they played the flogger’s strands across her nude
body, pausing to stroke her nipples and her vagina, before moving on. All over
her, she felt the sensation of the many thin fingers of soft leather as they
traced her figure.
“Oh God. They’re gonna torture me first,” the
voice in her head whispered, tiny and far away. The strands fell away, and she
heard the whisk of air as whoever it was swung the implement around. She heard
the boot heels move behind her, and she clenched herself involuntarily. She began
to hyperventilate, the air rushing in and out of her nose with an urgent hiss.
She felt the air move as the flogger swished
by her, and she shuddered. Over and over again, she heard the swish as the
implement just missed her. Each time, she held her breath, waiting for the blow
to fall. Alone, naked, and blind, Jane had never felt so exposed and helpless.
“This is turning into a freakin’ horror
show! I swear I’m never seeing another horror flick as long as I live,” she
thought desperately. Boot-heels stopped, and Jane froze as she tried to place
where her tormentor was, listening for the sound of his/her/its heels on the
hard wooden floor. “Think rationally, Lane,” she calmed herself. “It’s a game,
right? That’s what Alison said, right? Just play along until whoever this is
gets bored. It’s probably her, anyway.”
As she reassured herself, Boot-heels walked
away, and the door slammed shut. She waited for a few seconds before trying to
slip her thin wrists from the restraints. “Ohhhh! Is she so gonna get it for
dragging me to this freak show! I’ll
teach her a thing or two about fear and pain!” she seethed, as she struggled
with the cuffs.
“Dammit! Whoever did this, knows what they’re
doing!” she thought, giving up. “Duhhh! This is a hobby for these clowns, of
course they know what they’re doing. Oh well, guess I just have to wait until
whoever gets bored. I wish I’d have gotten some chow first though,” as her
stomach growled again.
The door opened again, and Boot-heels
approached. Jane didn’t react as they began to swish the leather thing past
her. She heard a snort of laughter, and suddenly her blindfold was removed.
Alison stood there, a smug grin on her face as she removed the ball-gag.
“And just what the hell was that all about!”
Jane fumed. “You assholes scared the shit out of me! I thought that this was
it! You…you…Ohhh!” she was speechless with anger.
Alison crossed her arms and replied, making no
move to free her. “I’ll bet we did. Doesn’t it feel good to know it was only a
game? Just for second, stop being mad at me, and go back over your feelings for
a moment. Think about it, Jane. You love horror movies, right?” Jane nodded
uncomprehendingly. “Okay. Now why? You like to be scared, as long as it isn’t
real, right? Now, didn’t you just get that same thrill, magnified, because you
really thought you were inside one of your “horror movies”? Or maybe it was
like the first time you rode a roller coaster. I’ll bet you felt like it was
the end for you the first time, right?”
Jane listened, and tried to recall the first
time she’d rode a roller coaster. She was eight, and had just barely been able
to reach the minimum height. Trent had gone on with her, but he wasn’t much
help, asleep as they crested the hill, and she looked down at the bottom. Her
tiny body had filled to bursting with sensations she’d never experienced
before. Fear, excitement, and dread had blended into one long tumultuous event.
When she got off she…”
“Alison, I have to warn you, the first time I
rode a roller coaster I tossed my groceries from all the excitement. But I get
what you’re saying. Now, would you mind taking me down, and just possibly
letting me get something to eat? I’ll be more interesting when my blood sugar
is out of my socks. Uh, please, “Mistress”?”
Alison snorted again as she disconnected the
restraints and helping her down. “Tell you what, you can drop the “Mistress”,
for now. I can almost see the exclamation marks when you say it. And sorry
about the shock when you got pulled in, I thought you needed to experience what
these people need to feel. In a way, they’re all excitement junkies, and we are
sorta like your roller coaster. You have to admit, you were terrified there for
a minute, weren’t you?”
“Damn straight! By the way, remind me I need
to give you a good beating when this is all over, okay?” Jane snarled sweetly,
as Alison removed the last cuff from her ankle.
“Oooh! Maybe I will!” she giggled evilly, as
Jane blushed.
“Ahhh, that’s not what I mean, oh, hell!”
Laughing as she took up Jane’s leash loosely
in her hand, she said, “Come on! They’re serving dinner now, and later the real
fun begins! I promise, no more surprises tonight, Jane. I’ll be servicing a few
of my clients later, and you’ll be able to watch, okay?”
“Uhhh, ‘watching’ is something I don’t know
if I’m ready for yet, Alison. You’re not gonna “do it” with anybody, are you?”
she asked nervously.
“Maybe, maybe not. It all depends on what I
feel like doing. Remember, I control the action, all they do is make
suggestions beforehand. But let’s get dinner out of the way first, huh?” as she
patted Jane’s ass. Jane didn’t flinch, which surprised her.
Alison leered, “And then, dessert will be
sinfully good!” Laughing, she led Jane from the tiny room.
CHAPTER SIX
“So, somehow, being abducted and
terrorized converted you from ordinary
art student into Whips-n-Chains Jane, dominatrix extraordinaire. I was
expecting a radioactive spider or something.” Daria replied flatly after Jane
had described the party.
“Well, no, not really. I was planning on
tearing her lungs out with a spoon as soon as there weren’t any witnesses
around, but when I saw her getting paid, I think that’s when I started to go
over to the Dark Side.”
“Oooh, now that sounds ‘dominant’ to me. You
said you were there three days. How’d days two and three go over?”
“Interesting. Some of the things I saw were
just plain silly, like the ‘drag’ race. Now that was a Kodak moment! A bunch of
executives in dresses running like maniacs in front of a bunch of leather geeks
on the lawn of a million dollar mansion.”
“So, did you ‘make’ anything at this ‘party’?
Daria inquired tipsily. “Or was it ‘pleasure before business’?”
“Nahhhh, neither actually. The episode with
the bathroom had kinda freaked me out, and dinner didn’t help much either. See,
while Alison and the rest of the ‘Alphas’ were in the dining room, me and a
bunch of the other ‘protégé’s were sorta
‘doing it doggy style’, in a fashion.”
“More information than I care to hear, but,
by all means, elaborate.” Daria replied flatly.
Jane laughed, “Oh, no, nothing like THAT! We
just had to eat out of doggy dishes in another room. Let me tell you, I’ve
never felt so stupid doing anything before in my life! Later on, though, all
the weird crap started to make sense, in a nonsensical way. Everything there
was about symbolism, power and weakness, richer and poorer. Alison gave it a
fitting name: Theatre of the Absurd. As an artist I could appreciate the
rituals these people created for themselves, the dance of their own creation.
And it doesn’t hurt that now I get paid stupid amounts of cash to further their
rituals!” she chuckled.
The afternoon light fought through the
overcast, and Daria peered through the chinks in Jane’s blind. “Damn. What time
is it? I’ve got a couple classes this afternoon that I really can’t afford to
miss.”
Jane snorted, “Don’t worry about them. And
I’m still not letting you leave in your condition. I’m gonna have to ask you to
lie down,” She gasped, as she realized she’d unconsciously used the same
pick-up line on Daria that Alison had.
“What’s the matter, Jane? You look like you
just ate a bug.”
“Nothing! Just the wine talking to me!” She
looked at her hands and silently willed them to cease trembling. “As we were
saying, the second and third days did sorta blend together, and by the time I
left, I was actually staring to like the absurdity of it all. And the cash
didn’t hurt either.”
“But it’s still a form of prostitution,
Jane. How do you sleep at night? I mean, that industry chews people up and
spits ‘em out. You know that.” Daria prodded again. “And, I seem to recall that
by me showing up at your doorstep, I’m supposedly doomed to leap into its jaws.
There are a lot of things I’ll never be ready for in life, and this is
definitely one of them.”
“Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, you
know what they say, “Misery loves Company,” and all that. It’s not like you’re
gonna have to wiggle your ass down on State Street or anything, Daria, Katy and
her people take care of all the arrangements for me, and I only have to cough
up ten percent of what I get. I mean, hell, look around you! In a little more
than four months I’ve gotten all this, and by the time I’m done at BFAC, I’ll
have enough to open my own gallery. I’m not saying it’s a bed of roses, because
there are still thorns here and there.”
“I have to admit, the money end sounds
intriguing, but I’ve still got that ‘physical contact’ problem to overcome. I
mean, it’s not like I’m a virgin anymore, but still…I don’t think I could do
that, at least not with a straight face. So I guess it’s the concrete shoes for
me, huh?” Daria replied sadly. Jane shook her head as she poured them both more
wine.
“Jeez Daria, get off the ‘concrete shoes’
kick! I already said this ain’t the Mob! Yeah, I shouldn’t have freaked you
with the solemn pronouncements of your career destruction, but it’s a lot
easier than you think! And how many times do I gotta tell you it’s not about
sex? In it’s simplest terms, they pay you to physically and verbally abuse them
for whatever sins they think or know they’re guilty of. It’s a game, and I’m
offering you a playing piece. If you decide to, before the end of next year,
you can have college paid for! And a lot of nice stuff on top of it, too.
You’ll have the luxury of waiting for the right opportunity, rather than
scrabbling along in some dead-end jobs until when, or if, that opportunity
comes along. That’s what it all boils down too.” Jane pleaded.
Daria sat there, cradling her glass,
thinking. She’d discarded the bathrobe and towels, and was wearing the dress
Jane had loaned her and her sport bra. The collar had been tossed atop the
shoes, now back in their box. She looked at Jane, with a bemused smirk.
“And was that the only reason you wanted me
to come along?” she teased.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,
Daria.” Jane replied uneasily. Daria rose and retrieved the shoes and collar.
Putting them on, she carefully strode in front of her friend and put on her
best “Quinn” pose.
“Or was there ANOTHER reason you wanted me
to, hmmm? I may be a little introverted, but I do know when someone is getting
hot and bothered about something. I saw the way you were looking at me earlier,
Jane. And after hearing how you and Alison spent three days in a mansion
together with little else but teensy leather straps and inhibitions, I figured
you’ve been a little ‘freer’ about your relationships of late,” she said, as
she took her glasses off and tossed her luxuriant mane of auburn hair back.
Cocking her hip, she smirked and asked,
“So, what do you REALLY want to say about
how I look, ‘Amiga’? D’ya think I’d ‘make the cut’?
“There’s definitely something going on
there,” Jane replied, shakily. “It’s not gonna be easy, you know. I’ll have to
‘introduce’ you to the circle properly.”
“I think I’d like that, odd as it sounds.
Dominatrix. Quinn’d turn her self inside out if she found out, you know.” Daria
said as she turned and checked her reflection in the mirror.
“She can’t. It’ll take a little while before
you can establish your own clientele, you know. I’d have to sponsor you as my
assistant, at first.” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. And
seeing.
“Well, it’d definitely beat being a paper
pusher, I’m sure.” Daria remarked, cradling her glass again.
“That’s true, Daria. I mean, look at the
alternatives, it’d better to be in your own dungeon than be stuck in some
lonely outpost stirring up the scorched remnants of your life before getting
put in some rubber room, right?” Jane replied, rising.
Daria teetered over, a smug grin on her face.
“I suppose you’re gonna have to teach me some things, huh? It’s not like they
had a class back in high school on this?”
“I’m sure Li probably tried at some time or
other. Sooo, when do you wanna start?” Jane said, taking her around the waist.
Their lips brushed, and Jane felt a thrill run through her body.
“Well, seeing as how I’m blowing off the rest
of my day, now would be a good time, right?”
Jane shuddered, as the last barriers to her
secret longings were thrown down. “Daria, do you remember what you told me
about that dream you had, after you had that wisdom tooth yanked?”
She blushed, as she recalled the awful dream
of being kidnapped by Li, “Yeah, I do. What’s that have to do with this?”
“You said that in your dream, I, uh, was
forced to do something to you?” she ventured slyly.
“Now that I recall, yes.”
“You never did tell me if I was any good, did
you?”
“No. I didn’t. Is that a problem?” she
pouted a bit, as she stared into Jane’s eyes.
“No, it isn’t. I guess I’ll be finding out
soon enough, eh?” Jane smirked, as she maneuvered her friend back to the
bedroom.
“I guess you will at that.” Daria giggled
as she pulled the door shut behind them.
THE END
Author’s note- the asterisk (*) in
chapter three represents the information gleaned from my sister on how to walk
in high heels. I hope you’ve enjoyed this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing
this highly off-canon piece. In all likelihood, this will be the last of this
ilk from yours truly, barring any sudden flashes of perverse creativity. Thanks
to the Dread Mistress Thea for allowing me a dark and dangerous place to
unleash my peculiar urges.
The Caneman