The Helldesk Ch. 03

As Carlo navigated the last few tables between us and reached forward to place the steaming plate in front of Emma, she leaned back without thinking, to avoid any possibility of getting burned. Carlo paused for just an instant, and I realized he'd probably just got an eyeful of wet, pink pussy as she sat back out of the way. Emma was busy staring at the food on her plate which was emitting the most delicious of aromas (there was a very good reason the Ravioli di Zucca was so popular), and by the time she realized her predicament, she glanced up to see Carlo studiously looking in my direction as he placed an identical plate in front of me. He leaned back, clasped his hands together in the perfect picture of a genial host... and then totally ruined it by leering at us in a quite hilarious manner and said, "Enjoy, both of you!"

I sighed as I realized that my raging hard on had probably been just as apparent to him as Emma's sopping wet cleft had been. I grinned at her and said, "caught red-handed I guess?"

She seemed to take it fairly well, the momentary blush quickly disappearing as she focused on the food in front of her. I picked up a fork, vigorously spearing one of the ravioli squarely in the middle before rubbing its face in the sage butter.

Damn, but that tasted good! Rich, and decadent, but not too cloying. The taste of sage was subtle and a good complement to the lightness of the butternut squash. As I ate, I asked her, "So, what happened to your veiny man meat and its owner? Sounds like you were onto a pretty good thing at a very early age."

She sighed, and finished chewing her first mouthful, the pleasure of the food obviously mixing with a less than happy memory she was considering. "It lasted just under two years and it was absolutely amazing. He was kind, and stern, and ruthless and caring, and everything that I had no idea I wanted. It wasn't all sweetness and light and fluffy unicorns though. He taught me about the pleasures of pain, the ritual and freedom of rope, and yes, he indulged all my darkest disciplinary fantasies. All in a safe and caring environment.

"And then he got posted somewhere else and moved to the other side of the country. He was being promoted to Colonel in the Air Force, and work came first. He told me he had very much enjoyed our time together, and that I was an amazing and beautiful young woman, but that this was a timely reminder that it would be better for me to find someone a little closer to my own age with whom I could consider starting a family. Not that he was being patronizing with regard to the family part, I'd asked him on one occasion whether he'd ever wanted to have kids, and he had said 'no'. My disappointment had probably been obvious, and he didn't forget.

"So he moved away, and I immediately threw myself into dating, trying to fill the void I felt inside - a dark and bitter emptiness that whispered to me that I wasn't good enough, even though I was plenty young enough and pretty enough, to keep him there. My rational mind knew that it was more about his choices than anything I had to offer, but it broke me for a while. I quickly tired of the nice boys all my friends seemed to know and started dating bad boys - rockers, bikers, even a drummer from a pretty dark metal band. All the while I was putting as many hours as I could into my work and relentlessly inching my way up the ladder.

It all came to a head a few years down the line when I think I got roofied at a club one night and was taken out back into the alley by some guy I met at the bar. Initially it felt exciting and dirty, and I didn't object as he led me through the back door and made me suck him until he was hard, behind a dumpster. Then he ripped off my panties and started fucking me over a big empty cardboard box - I remember thinking that was a pretty good metaphor for my life at that point. Lots of structure and no substance, a big old empty hole in the middle, just crying out for something to fill it up.

"And then he got nasty. He pulled out of my pussy and pushed straight into my virgin asshole, with no warm up or foreplay. That was when the message started to get through to my very fucked up brain that something was seriously wrong, and I started to fight back. He spun me around and slapped, punched, and kicked me to the ground. When I pleaded with him not to hurt me, he told me to get on my knees and to spread my ass for him. I was petrified that he had a knife, or something like that, so I did, and I tried not to think about the pain and what he was doing to me, and eventually it stopped.

"I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, and eventually managed to get my clothes back into some semblance of order, and to stagger out of the alley. The taxi driver who took me home just kept shaking his head, like it was me who had done something wrong. I couldn't speak properly, and I guess he assumed I was just some drunk bitch on a bender. I don't remember getting back into my apartment, but woke up on the couch the next morning with the hangover to end all hangovers. I went back to the same bar and spoke to the manager to see if they had the guy on tape, but it turned out their surveillance system was down and had been for several months, so they weren't able to help.

She paused, and took another mouthful of ravioli, her gaze not straying far from her plate.

I was slightly stunned, not having expected anything quite that dark to come out of her mouth. When viewed from someone else's viewpoint that was some fucked up shit. It was only a hair's breadth away from what I had done, except I had actually offered her a choice. But still...

"So that was the catalyst for you to switch from submissive to dominant?" I asked quietly.

She didn't answer for a while, and I gave her time to see what she would say. Eventually she looked at me, "Pretty much, I guess. I didn't have anything to do with guys for a number of years and spent a lot of time in therapy, coming to terms with the fact that life could go on and that it didn't define who I was. I tried dating a couple of women, but just didn't get turned on in the same way. It was comforting, to be able to cuddle with another human being, but I just couldn't get my rocks off in any reliable way.

"That was.... until I met Donna. She was a good ten years older than me, and I only went out on a date with her at the urging of a mutual friend who said that Donna was an absolute rockstar. We had a couple of drinks, and chatted about a few inconsequentials, and I ended up confessing to her that my heart really wasn't invested in going to bed with her. She just laughed and said she knew exactly what I needed. When I asked her what she meant, she said I was a submissive and I needed someone to take charge and put me in my place.

"Initially, it didn't light me up the way The Colonel had, but even when she first mentioned it, I knew she was right. Vanilla sex just hadn't been doing anything for me, and I ended up spending a couple of years under her wing having a much better time than I expected and making a very close friend in the process. Whilst she would occasionally Top me, she swung both ways and soon showed me how to drive certain submissive men crazy by alternating between soft and solicitous and then acting like a bitch on wheels.

"For a while I was fairly happy, and I tried to find a balance between getting my own pleasure from wielding my power against a group I still held something of a grudge against, and not making things too abusive. But it didn't really satisfy me in the same way that having someone else take the reins did. I ended up gradually driving my subs a little harder, and pushing them a little further until I had a bad experience with a bratty little cocksucker a couple of years back and ended up taking out all my pent up frustration and repressed sexual need on him with a riding crop. It was only when he was a mewling, blubbering wreck underneath me with half of his back cut to ribbons that I realized I was so far out of control that I was almost as guilty of abuse as the guy who had raped me in that alley.

"I stopped having any submissive clients and was just using the video material for masturbatory purposes for several years... until you showed up. I guess my subconscious was just looking for a way to use them to trip me up - any sane person would have deleted them, just like you said, or kept them somewhere else. It seems strange now to think that I would be so stupid, but it was about the only thing I could masturbate to, on my own, and get any degree of satisfaction from."

I'd finished the pasta now, and watched her as she ate a little more of it herself. She didn't seem bitter, but some of her reactions had shown that she wasn't entirely down with all of my choices. I wondered whether I should offer her the way out I had given her previously, and make sure she understood that the offer was genuine. Hearing about her rape in the alley had turned me cold and triggered little pangs of my well hidden, and infrequently used, chivalrous side.

I put my fork down and watched her eyes close as she ate another one of those divine little parcels of goodness. "You know I was serious with my offer, I hope?"

Her eyes stayed closed for what seemed like an eternity, and when they finally opened and looked directly at me, the jolt I felt as they pierced me to my core made me want to shove the table aside and fuck her right there on the banquette.

Her reply took a little of the edge off my heat as she said, "Well, no, I didn't really have any cause to trust you. Why would I? I don't know you from Adam and your behavior towards me has been appalling. Okay, so I was a little pissed when I first came down to find you, but that's hardly justification for all the things you've subjected me to."

The intensity of her gaze hadn't shifted one iota, and now she looked more like an avenging angel than her previous incarnation as an ice queen. My blood boiled with desire and it was all I could do to form any kind of rational train of thought.

"Well, you did consent to about two thirds of it, after I gave you a choice, but I understand when you say that you had no way of knowing if I was serious. However, I can promise you that I was. And still am. If you want an out, you can have it right now. You can have your keys, your phone, the car, and your freedom and never have to see me again, unless it's in my professional capacity. I'll have the laptop repaired by Monday, and will leave it with one of the secretaries on your floor.

"Just tell me that you don't get off on any of this. That you don't want to be forced to live out your darkest fantasies at the hands of another. Tell me that, and you are free to go."

I paused for a moment as I continued to watch her. "Know this though - if you choose to continue, things will be exactly as before - no limits, no way out. You get no rights other than my best attempt to make sure nothing that I do to you will have repercussions for your employment. And I keep a copy of the videos, which will not be shared unless you give me cause."

I paused, and sat back as I gazed into those scintillating blue-green eyes, and waited to hear what she would say.

*****

Author's postscript So, yeah, another cliffhanger. Guess I'm becoming something of a cocktease. Or a pussy tease...

Our heroine finally has a name! Don't expect one for her male counterpart though. He isn't supposed to be that well delineated by his own words. I'm purposefully leaving it to you to form your own picture indirectly from the narrative. I supply the skeleton - you mold the flesh as you see fit.

Once again, the way this chapter has emerged has been something of a surprise to me. I'm glad to have fleshed out Emma's backstory a little, but had no idea what was about to appear from my fingers until I was literally in the middle of writing her back-alley rape scene. (For those of you who don't do double-entendres, you'll have to forgive my childish sense of humor). It provided a much darker and more serious theme for this chapter, adding a little gritty realism to this slice of fantasy.

I thought long and hard about an alternative to that section which would have left out the rape, but I think it adds much greater credence to her motivations (not all of which I have made plain yet), and it puts her actions in the original chapter in a slightly less surreal light.

I wasn't sure whether I should file this under non-consent, but given that the heroine has stated that she didn't believe that the was genuinely offered a choice, I decided to go ahead. Let me know if you think that was wrong and what I should go with instead.

It's probably going to be two weeks until I have the next chapter finished, what with the upcoming holiday. This 'romantic' dinner is far from over, and whilst the heroine may have delivered a strong broadside to the antihero, don't for a moment think that she is out of danger. I don't believe you'd be reading this if that was what you wanted!

As ever, I welcome comments and critique. Thanks so much for reading this far, please take a moment to leave a rating!