Such Sweet Sorrow
Chapter 16 : Vanilla or Raspberry - October
Phil Lane & Freddie Clegg © 2010
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 16 : Vanilla or Raspberry - October - A new story from Phil Lane & Freddie Clegg. Jenny returns to Inward Bound, where she learned so much of her submissive drives in "Thesis" (also available here at Storiesonline) but what does all this mean for Joe, her husband? Should he try to learn more of her desires?
11 MONTHS, 355 DAYS AFTER JENNY'S DISAPPEARANCE
"At the roundabout, take the second exit. Continue to follow the road."
"This can't be right," I say to myself. I'm driving along what, at one time, must have the by-pass of a growing town to the north-east of London. Now it's just a busy road like many others as the town has been absorbed by the steadily expanding suburbs. I'm coming here at Corinne's suggestion. It was her idea for me to meet Ylena Zhukova and I've just realised that I've gone past the group of suburban houses, where I was expecting to find her.
I'm also wondering whether it is really a good idea to be here at all? I'm beginning to wonder if this whole thing is a foolish exercise. If I was the man Jenny wants me to be, shouldn't I be able to be her Dom all by myself? What would she think, if she knew I was here? Would she be pleased I was trying this, or upset that I couldn't sort it out for myself? I've tried to read more about the BDSM world on some of the sites on the Internet. Some have been helpful and others less so, but at least I understand some of the "technicalities' better than I did.
"Continue to follow the road." The sat-nav is implacable. I may think that the meeting place is back behind me but her voice drives me onwards. I wonder if dominatrixes have seen a down turn in trade, since anyone can have a bossy woman in their car, all the time? Or do they record the voices tracks for sat navs in their spare time? I realise that I'm grinning. I'm almost surprised that I can make a joke of things. It's probably just my anxiety.
"At the roundabout take the first exit and then take the first left." In spite of the sat-nav's insistence, I'm becoming increasingly sceptical. This is a trading estate. There's just a collection of small factory units, warehouses and newly developed low rise office blocks. The road system is a maze but the sat-nav sends me along roads lined by anonymous looking, buildings with lorry cabs or empty trailers parked outside them. There are a few other cars. It's not busy but it's not quiet either. "Take the next left ... You have reached your destination."
I do as I'm told and I'm pleased to see that, in spite of my suspicions, I may be in the right place after all. There's a sign on the wall of the single storey building in front of me that has the same symbol that was on the business card Corinne gave me; a pyramid inside a cube, inside a sphere. Beside the symbol it says, "Just Desserts". The place looks like a small manufacturing unit. It's freshly painted, white with panels of pale green and pale pink on the blank areas of wall. I go inside.
"Hi, how can I help?" a smiling faced woman asks, as I enter. She sits behind a reception desk in the simply furnished entrance area. There's a model of the symbol from the business card on her desk on a base with the words "Just Desserts"
"Err, I was looking for Ms Zhukova." I'm not absolutely certain that I'm where I should be.
"Of course. Do you have an appointment? Ah yes, you'll be Mr McEwan. I'll tell her you're here."
I nod in acknowledgement. If the truth is known, I'm feeling even less enthusiastic now than I was in the car.
The surroundings don't strike me as being the dungeon of a professional dominatrix, and Ylena's appearance, when she arrives a few moments later, is equally unconvincing. She's an attractive woman but she hardly looks the part, wearing a loose cotton dress in a pale peasant print, bare legs and open strappy sandals. Not what I'm expecting at all. I ought to be reassured, because the whole place is free from all the popular Domme clichés
I'm feeling a bit confused: "I thought this was an ice cream factory," I say, nodding at the model on the reception desk.
"Yes," says Ylena. "Most people do. As a matter of fact I import Russian Ice Cream. It's in demand from the Russian ex-patriate community in the UK" She waves me through to an adjoining room. Ylena's office is modern, comfortable and you could almost say, cosy. There is a professionally tidy desk to one side sporting a computer, printer and PDA cradle. It puts mine to shame for neatness. There's a rolodex with index cards and a three drawer filing cabinet.
"Have a seat, please."
As we both sit down, I get the first sense that perhaps this woman is interested in having the upper hand. Looking across at her desk, Ylena's chair is upright but the visitor's chair, the chair I am sitting in, is lower and leans back slightly. Anyone sitting there would feel at a distinct psychological disadvantage – just as I do now.
She suggests we use a small sofa and an easy chair arranged around a coffee table on the far side of the office. A standard lamp throws a soft pool of light down.
Ylena waves me towards the sofa while she settles in the easy chair. It's an efficient room but it's a comfortable room too. I feel like it's a room that encourages conversation and the spilling of confidences. It's just as well; I haven't really been looking forward to this discussion.
Even so I decide that I ought to begin the negotiations. "I guess Corinne let you know what this is about," I say.
"Yes," Ylena responds. "You must miss your wife terribly."
I'm surprised by Ylena's opening remarks because compassion wasn't what I really expected and it's nice of her to express concern. "Of course. But I hope she'll be back one day, and I'm trying to get ready so that when she returns we'll be able to share whatever it is she wants to share."
"That's an ambitious goal. Your wife was, sorry is, a very committed individual. She is determined to live out her fantasies to the full."
"I thought the slave just had to put up with whatever the mistress wanted," I say. I don't really understand how Ylena's assertions fit in with a sub-dom relationship.
"That's another common misconception but you can learn a lot about this if you are prepared to open your mind. Now what did you have in mind?" Ylena looks across to me, as her desk as her intercom buzzes. "I'm sorry, excuse me a moment." She gets up, walks over and presses a button on the intercom.
"Your 2 o'clock appointment has confirmed." It's the girl from reception on the other end.
"Fine, Judy. Make room three ready for him when he arrives." She turns back to me. "I'm sorry about that. I expect clients with longer appointments to confirm twenty four hours ahead but this particular client was unable to confirm until today. You were saying."
"Err, yes. Well, I've thought about this. It's obvious that Jenny wants me to take a more dominant role; that she'd like me to take the lead in some of her BDSM interests and I suppose I wanted to get some ideas of how I might do that."
"That's really what I understood from what Corinne told me," Ylena says. "Well, for a start, I should arrange an introductory session for you, something like the one I will start this afternoon. That's probably as good a way as any to begin. This client is pretty much a beginner. I would think something like this would be the right thing for you to get started with."
I'm a bit taken aback. Firstly, by the suddenness of it all and the matter of fact-ness too. Secondly, it she sounds to be suggesting that I get involved in a domination scene, with one of her other clients. I'm still wondering about how to respond when Judy appears at the door.
"Everything is ready now," she says.
"Good," Ylena responds. "Wait there for a moment, will you."
"Yes, Mistress," Judy responds and drops to her knees, bowing her head and placing her hands behind her back. I look on bemused by the sudden change of atmosphere from the conventional office, to something much stranger. On the other hand The involvement of the large breasted Judy, will certainly add interest to whatever will happen in 'number 3'.
Ylena turns back to me. "So, would you like me to make arrangements for you?"
"Err, well," I begin. Ylena looks steadily at me. She's obviously had experience of clients who just cannot bring themselves to go ahead with their first session and she can obviously tell that there's a distinct risk of me doing just that. "Look, I'm sorry. This may be all very straight-forward for you, but it's pretty new for me and I've never been involved in dominating someone else. I am not sure I could go ahead with ... with your colleague here or your other client."
"Ah, I'm sorry, of course," Ylena nods. She obviously now understands my confusion. "Don't worry it would not be at all like that. There's no question of you being involved in dominating. I'll take you through the same initial sessions that I do for any of my subs. You'll just have to do as you're told."
"But I do not want to train as sub and I do not feel as though I am one. Jenny wants me to take a dominant role and I would like your advice on how I go about doing that with Jenny"
"Maybe she does and maybe you do but that's not how it works. You can't just leap in and it's almost impossible to take the leading role without knowing what it's like to be led. It's how I started and how I have started all of the other dommes I have trained. It's how I shall start with you, if you want to go through with learning more about this. Otherwise I think we have finished."
I'm suddenly aware that whatever Ylena is wearing and whatever she may look like, she can certainly make her wishes crystal clear and she is obviously determined that things should be just as she wants. I'm feeling more uneasy than ever though. This isn't turning out in the way I imagined and I'm not at all sure that I'm ready for what Ylena proposes.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I think I've wasted your time. I think I'll just go now."
"I understand," says Ylena. She's not annoyed. Maybe she's disappointed, but she still sounds sympathetic. "I'm sorry if there was any confusion. Give me a call if you change your mind. I'd like to help make things better for Jenny."
As Judy is showing me out, I'm thinking of Ylena's words. Am I really running away from something that would make things better for Jenny? How does that square up with the promises I made to myself? By the time I get back into his car under the direction of my implacable "navigatrix", I'm feeling that I have let Jenny down. It's not what I intended.
"Recalculating," the sav nav dominatrix says, apparently with some exasperation: "Make a U turn as soon as possible."
I'm back again at Just Desserts, sitting in the car park. Ylena was understanding when I called her back. It was probably one of the most difficult phone calls I have ever made but I really am determined to do what I can to be ready, ready for Jenny when she comes back and I think that Ylena sensed my commitment.
So here I am, not at all sure what to expect and more nervous than I could have imagined. My mouth is dry and my pulse is up. I'm feeling a strange mixture of trepidation, anticipation and curiosity. I can see now, how people could get hooked on this sensation.
I get out of the car and head in to reception. Judy is there again, sitting behind her desk and looking primly efficient. "Nice to see you back, Joseph," she says with a genuine welcome in her voice. "I'll let Ms Zukhova know that you're here. Can you just read through this and let me know if there are any problems with it?"
She gives me a sheet of paper with the words, "Initial Sessions : Guidance for Visitors" printed on the top. I read it but there aren't any real surprises.
"Your initial sessions are likely to involve some or all of the following physical activities. If you have any reservations about any of these activities or are suffering from any medical condition that might be exacerbated by them please make us aware. Please indicate your consent to participating in these activities by signing in the space provided below."
The list that follows includes confinement in enclosed spaces, physical restraint, use of gags and blindfolds and mild physical punishment. An asterisk against the word "mild" is repeated with a note at the foot of the page saying "not severe enough to mark your skin."
I suppose it's what I expected. There is no reason to prevent me signing. I sign and date it. I leave a copy on the reception desk.
Judy exclaims, "Oh, thank you, that's fine," as she picks it up and reads it through on her return. "Just come on through. Ms Zukhova is in room two."
Judy show me through into a room that looks a little like the room at Inward Bound, where Ylena and Jenny had their encounter. There's the same comfortable furniture, the same padded leather horse or bench or whatever you call it. And, of course, there is Ylena. She is sitting in one of the armchairs, looking no more of a dominatrix than she did last time. On this occasion, her outfit is a little more severe; a dark trouser suit and a pale blue silk blouse, but she's hardly the corset clad, stilt heeled, über-bitch. She is wearing leather gloves though, something that's slightly out of place in this comfortable room. She doesn't get up but she does look up as I enter. "Good," she says, in a quiet but definite tone. "You're on time. I like that."
I feel a tingle inside me. That one statement fills me with contradictory responses. I find that I'm pleased to have pleased her but, the same time, I'm resistant to the idea that I have been unwittingly obedient. Her remark also carries an invitation to speculate on what she might have said or done, had I not been on time. I'm surprised by the way in which so many feelings can be conjured up so easily and the way that there is something curiously erotic about it; the combination of perfectly normal conversation and the context of sexual games. I don't feel a reply is necessary or expected.
"Let me explain a few things," she continues quietly. "While we are in here, I expect you to respond to my instructions without question and without objection. If, at any time, you wish the session to end simply say 'Red'. Do you understand?"
"Yes, er, Mistress." I respond. I suppose that's appropriate from what I've read.
"Good," she says, "but please use Gaspazha, not Mistress."
"Gaspazha?" It's not a word I've heard before.
She nods but doesn't explain. "Now: please undress."