Chapter 3

Bridgette played with Shannon's hair for a few seconds, putting the hurt aside and moving on, then, "Why are YOU doing this? Why are you out hunting for a ... skank ... who can't catch a guy with a butterfly net? What is YOUR motivation?"

Bart chuckled. "You tried to turn ME away in there, remember? You've seen one of my best features - but how many women can I reasonably show THAT to?"

Shannon sniffled and spoke to the appendage involved, "You can show it to me again..."

"You talk like a smart guy - or a rich one..." Bridgette mused.

"Being smart doesn't get you anywhere with women," Bart replied. "Being rich is better, but it's not something you show strangers at first sight. Women who would chase me for money would only be looking for a way to separate me from it. They might follow my rules for a short while, but they would tire of it quickly and move on, looking for another easy mark." He sighed. "It's simple, really - I never want to be manipulated by a woman again. My mother and my sister Beatrice virtually owned me during my childhood - and they still try to bully me into bending to their will, but I've managed to insulate myself from them for the most part. But the woman who occupies my bed needs to understand at the outset that I'm just not taking any -- well, crap, for lack of a better word - from her. If you live under my roof, you will live under my rule. Period." Bart couldn't help the tinge of anger that accompanied this declaration.

Both women generated the exact same thought process: 'He's serious. Can I do this?' Bridgette asked, "So what does this entail?"

"Well," Bart said slowly, "You commit yourself to me. There will be things like contracts and powers of attorney, but the important thing is your word, don't you think? Some of the things we'll agree to aren't legally enforceable, even if we both sign a contract in good faith. You'll move in with me and I'll ... keep you, for lack of a better term. Your basic needs will be taken care of, at a minimum. I'm not promising to keep you in luxury - everyone has a different concept of that, anyway - and with some women, it's a sliding scale." He smiled ruefully. "You will take care of my needs - including sex, obviously, but there will be others."

Shannon sat up and started rubbing at her face; Bart snatched a napkin from a door pocket and handed it to her. "What was all that about dog collars?" she asked.

"Do you understand the concept of total power exchange?" Bart asked.

"No." Shannon shook her head.

"Dominance and submission?"

"I know what the words mean..."

"There are people who practice this. Dominants - 'Masters' - demand subservience from a submissive. There are generally features of the relationship that most people would term excesses - things like humiliating the submissive in public by calling her 'Slut' or something and making her go without clothing. She might be treated as a possession and lent out or made to sleep in a cage or eat from a dog bowl - any number of humiliations and embarrassments. In the 'perfect' relationship between a Dominant and a submissive, the Dominant treats the submissive like dirt - and the submissive loves it. She surrenders herself to him and every outrageous task he requires of her is a test of her fidelity - and success is a reward in itself. This is ... an extreme condition. I bring many of these things up to dismiss them, as I feel that they are excessive. I don't want to spend my time thinking of new and fascinating ways of making you miserable. But there will be occasional tests - and occasional excesses - especially in the beginning. It's one thing to SAY you're committed and another to BE committed."

"What if I find that I just can't do something?" Bridgette asked.

"There are two clear scenarios," Bart mused. "In the first scenario, whatever it is isn't important to me. In that case, I'll withdraw the requirement - but I'll probably substitute something else. You can consider it a punishment if you like, but it's more a case of not being able to back down and maintain proper control. In the second scenario, we part company."

"Just like that?" Bridgette blinked.

"Well, it could be more complicated than that, but, yes. I'm assuming that whatever this requirement is, it is important to me and you will not fulfill it."

Shannon bit her lip. "What if the spirit is willing but, ummm, the flesh is weak?"

"I would have to take that on a case-by-case basis," Bart replied. "Certainly, inability is an extenuating circumstance."

"Are you a lawyer?" Shannon asked, wrinkling her nose.

Bart chuckled. "No."

"You sure talk like one." She thought for a moment. "What would be a test? What would be an excess?"

Bart eyed her. "Let's see ... Having you take on six black guys, three at a time, would be an excess - and might be a test." At Bridgette's gasp, he added, "Of course, I would want to be careful in my selection of the six black guys, as I wouldn't want you getting the Mandingo Syndrome."

"Mandingo Syndrome?" Shannon asked.

"You know, the whole slut for black cock thing. It wouldn't do for me to set a bunch of guys with foot long cocks on you - it would tend to ruin you for my use afterward."

"Surely, you wouldn't..." Bridgette began.

"The prime reason for tests and excesses," Bart related, "is to condition you NOT to make assumptions as to what I will or will not do. When you start making those assumptions and I exceed one of them, you'll automatically consider disobedience. That will lead you to bad habits. It's better if you assume that I'll follow through with any given threat -- particularly since if you balk, the onus is on me to ensure that the threat is fulfilled. I do hope you realize that."

"So," Shannon murmured, "let me get this straight. If you come out with this six guy gang-bang thing and I don't believe you..."

"I'm likely to go out and find nine guys in order to ensure that you take me seriously the next time," Bart finished for her.

"Really?" Bridgette queried, wide-eyed.

"Really," Bart insisted. "If you think I'm full of shit, I haven't earned your respect - and I can't count on your obedience. You have to assume that I'm capable of whatever I tell you I intend doing - because if you don't, it could cause trouble for both of us."

"Well, okay," Shannon burst out, "but what if you..."

Bart held up a hand to interrupt her. "Clearly, there are checks and balances. If you think about it, if I insist that you take every directive seriously, then I have to be able to deliver. If I come out with some wild task for you to execute that is clearly not a situation I can set up, my credibility is shot. You'll start questioning me on other issues and we'll be in trouble. So you see there ARE controls in place - I MUST be able to follow through on a threat. That is the flip side of requiring you to take me seriously - I'm required to BE serious." He glanced at them both. "Let's look at a realistic scenario. I'm discussing a business deal with a client and he takes a shine to you. I determine that it might be in my best interests if you were to crawl under the table and give him a blow job. I direct you to do so. What do you do?"

"I give him a blow job?" Bridgette guessed diffidently.

"You do. It's your job. It might not be politically correct, but it is well within your capabilities. It is my job to decide whether it is a good idea or not given the circumstances - for instance, in a private dining room, I might direct you to do such a thing, but not out in the open restaurant. One check on me is the 'Does this make sense?' question. If I have you do something that ruins you for other purposes I've shot myself in the foot. If I treat you like a common slut in public, then my ability to present you as my significant other in public is compromised."

"Um, yeah, about that..." Bridgette mused. "If this thing is effectively forever and you're talking about significant others..."

"As I indicated previously," Bart replied, "having two of you complicates things. I can't marry you both, for instance. Maybe I could get away with it in Utah, but the marriages and everything attached to them would be subject to question. If one of you wants to marry, then the other has to agree to the appearance of a secondary position."

"The appearance?" Shannon blurted.

"If there are going to be two of you, I'm going to have to either set one of you above the other permanently or attempt to treat you as equally as possible. Frankly, having one of you married to me presents such an advantage to the one performing the role as wife that I have some concerns about the practicality of the idea," Bart replied. "For instance, if one of you acts up, I might want to place the other in the top position for a time as a punishment - but if the one acting up is my wife, my hand is forced to a certain extent. That being the case, I don't really think I can offer marriage to one of you as long as the other is present. You'll forgive me if I wander around some - I just wasn't prepared for this."

"Well ... what about kids?" Bridgette asked. "I want kids..."

"Good!" Bart replied. "I do, too. After we settle in and everyone is comfortable with their role, we can work on that. In the meantime, you'll be on birth control - and as soon as you're cleared for sexually transmitted diseases, I'll stop using rubbers."

"What?" Shannon blurted.

"Wait!" Bridgette erupted. Both opened their mouths to continue, but Bart raised a hand and they subsided.

"Bridgette?" Bart handed off control.

"Who will take care of the kids?"

"Well, you will, obviously," Bart replied, smiling thinly. "If you're asking will they be legitimate from my perspective, the answer is yes. I will admit paternity and will take care of them to the best of my ability, even if our relationship should be dissolved at some point. Again, I can't tell you that they will want for nothing, but I won't be a deadbeat dad." He turned to the other woman, "Shannon?"

"I don't have anything!"

"I'm sure you don't," Bart agreed, "but for our mutual protection you will be tested. I will be tested, too. You will undoubtedly have sexual contact with others, but I'm the only person who will enter your vagina without a rubber from here on out - understood?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Is there a problem?"

"No." Shannon sat wondering how Bart had just shut her down - was it because he seemed so serious?

Bridgette offered, "I still can't understand why you would come HERE to make THIS offer..."

Bart eyed her incredulously. "There's a better place? Maybe you think I should go out and buy a white slave? That would be all kinds of complicated - from a legal standpoint and from a personal safety standpoint it just wouldn't work. No matter how well trained she was, I couldn't trust her - and I would be limited in what I could do with her and where I could take her. She could react to my somewhat easier control environment with gratitude - or with contempt. I couldn't take her places on my arm. No, at bottom I require someone who WANTS to be where she is - who sees the benefits. Oh, I'm going to use every method at my disposal to chain you to me - but those chains must be invisible, and are therefore breakable, ultimately. When you really examine what I'm looking for, this place provides women who met my criteria..."

"Yeah, like desperation," Shannon interjected unhappily.

"You miss the point," Bart insisted. "Both of you are a little brave. You're not above pushing the edge of the envelope. You're open to sex. And you're looking - HARD - for a relationship. Not only that, but the very fact that Bridgette asked the question she did the way she did indicates that she values my offer. Do you really think such a thing would happen in a regular club?"

"What about online dating services?" Shannon asked.

"That MIGHT work, but when I put in my requirements I would probably be rejected or considered a crank. This works - if it didn't, we wouldn't be sitting here."

"If I decided to accept, what would I need to do?" Bridgette queried.

Shannon flashed her a look that said, 'Are you insane?' but Bart merely replied, "You commit yourself to me. I have some contracts and other papers, but I wasn't really planning for two - so you could both sign them, but I don't know how good they would be. To a certain extent some of them are unenforceable, as you really can't sign away your civil rights in this country - they're more an indication of intent than anything else - something to protect me from a lawsuit. Other things, like a power of attorney, are legal, but if both of you sign the same document it might be breakable. We would have to re-do it all at some point. None of it is any good if your word isn't, anyway, and if things don't work out, you'll be released. There are protections for me, primarily, to ensure that you don't benefit by walking away."

"I guess we should read them..." Bridgette opined.

"Fine. I agree, actually." Bart turned to Shannon. "Would you let me out? They're in the front seat. I'm going to leave the two of you in privacy to talk about it, anyway." Shannon nodded and got out; Bart got out and then went into a briefcase in the front passenger seat and extracted what had to be twenty pages. Passing it between the seats, he said, "I'll be leaning on the fender if you have questions." Then he closed the door and positioned himself exactly as he described, leaning against the right front fender of the car.

"Are you nuts?" Shannon hissed. "This guy is a whacko!"

"Is he?" Bridgette retorted. "Sure, this is strange - but isn't he sort of like us? And look at this - talk about having your shit together..."

"That's what's fucked up about it," Shannon opined. "Contracts? All this 'Do as I say' stuff?"

"I'm having a hard time seeing a problem with that," Bridgette replied.

"He's gotten to you, hasn't he?" Shannon demanded. "Nothing I say is gonna change your mind."

"Find something in this that he has lied about," Bridgette replied. "We'll go through it page by page..." She started reading rapidly. "Fuck, I hate legalese..." After a few seconds, she passed the page to Shannon and moved on to the next. Shannon read it, too, clearly more slowly, her lips moving.