Chapter 8

Zoe

Shutting the world out to concentrate on what I am doing, especially when it has to do with a mathematical problem, is one of my fortes. But that day it didn't work at all. My thoughts kept going back to Ann, to the weekend we had spent together, my feelings towards her. Images of her and myself in bed, Ann sitting naked at the table, camera in hand, that look she had when she photographed, of me naked and exposed as she shaved me ╨ that particular image sending a blush to my cheeks ╨ flashed through my head.

In the end I one more time read through my questions I wanted to discuss with the prof and left for our meeting. He hadn't been too thrilled when I had popped by in the morning to announce that I was back and to ask whether he had an hour sometime later.

"I thought you're not supposed to work for a week?" he had said and then told me that I wasn't allowed to work even one minute longer than until four o'clock and if I didn't feel good I was supposed to call it a day and go home immediately. I was a bit surprised, usually he barely noticed when someone was missing, let alone not feeling well.

"Yes sir, I won't, sir," I had replied mockingly, but for once I really planned not to stay at work longer than necessary. After all, there was more than an empty flat to go home to. Much more.

The rest of the morning went by quickly. The discussion with the prof went well, he could help me with a couple of problems and I could assure him that I'd be giving the lecture the next day, something he was quite pleased to hear. Then an unpleasant encounter with David who tried once again to talk me into going out with him and maybe I should have told him "no, sorry, I have someone to go out with and now please let's get back to a professional relationship" but I didn't and then it was lunchtime and later I found a quite corner in the library and fired up Skype.

Karin was already online after my text message earlier, giving me the news about Mia. There wasn't much news, apparently she cried little, slept a lot, ate a lot and pooped a lot, just what newborns are supposed to do. Then she wanted to know about me and this time I didn't leave out anything. Not even the part about Ann shaving me.

"Wow. Sounds like you had a great weekend. So you think she's a domme?"

"Huh? What?"

Massive eyerolling. "Domme. A Mistress, capital M. A woman who enjoys to dominate. Google is your friend."

"Oh. Yes. I think so." Actually I was pretty sure about that. And I wondered why Karin would know what a domme is.

"Cool."

"Cool?"

"Yeah. Cool. Well, depends on how you feel about it, of course." She went on before I could say something. "I'd say you're totally curious, you enjoyed the moments when she took control even when you were embarrassed and you're also not sure what to do."

That was a perfectly accurate assessment in one single sentence. "Yes. That's true. But why is that cool?"

"Because you just have to go with the flow."

"Uh huh." I had been so far too in my thinking.

"And if you don't like it you just say stop."

"That's what I'm afraid of, actually. What if I don't like it and she's done with me?"

"Then at least you have had a good time and learned something about yourself. But I doubt that you won't like it," she added and then started to giggle.

"Why you're laughing?"

"I was just thinking of you bound and struggling. Wouldn't mind to see that myself."

I felt myself blush. Partly because I thought of that night we fooled around and what would have happened if we hadn't stopped and partly because she was right, I was very curious and it had felt good to let Ann take the lead. It had felt safe, too.

"Just relax, honey. If you're right and she indeed loves you and cares for you that much, you should stop thinking about problems that might never arise."

"Uh huh. I know. But..."

"No buts. Trust your feelings. If it feels good, it is good. End of story." She certainly had a point there. Problem was, I wasn't sure about my feelings, at least not regarding all that BDSM-stuff.

"Check your mail. I've sent you something that might help you understand."

"Thanks."

More eyerolling and grinning. "You can pay me back with babysitting next time you're here. Five nights should be enough."

"Sure. I love you."

"I love you too. Take care. And enjoy!"

"Yes ma'am! Or is that Mistress? With a capital M?"

"Ask Ann. She'll be probably happy to tell you." We both giggled as we disconnected, but I didn't feel like giggling too much. Maybe I really should ask Ann? Maybe I should just go ahead and do it? Not just wait for things to happen but make them happen myself?

I had intended to do some more work but then I started to read the text Karin had mailed and next time I looked at the clock it was already time to leave. The girl who had written the story sure knew how to write both hot and informative at the same time. It wasn't a long story, a few pages only, about her own coming out as a submissive, and although it wasn't sure whether it was fact or fiction it nevertheless sounded plausible. At the end the girl had provided a link to some more of her writings and I ended up reading them all. Or almost all, but at least I had bookmarked those I hadn't read. When I shut down the Mac and packed it in my bag I didn't only have a quite damp panty, I also had at least a bit of an idea what 'D/s' and being a 'submissive' was about. And, just as important, what it wasn't about. If the girl who had written the stories had it right, of course. But for once there was more than one way to find out. And now I knew which way I wanted to go.

I tried to remember what Ann had said about finishing work but either she hadn't said anything or I had forgotten. Either way, it wasn't much of a detour to the gallery and so I went in that direction. Once again my feet barely touched the ground as I walked. Dee was talking to a customer and I noticed that on top of being a talented artist and kind person she was also a good saleswoman. Once the customer had paid the upfront and details about the delivery of the paintings had been fixed, she turned to me.

"Sorry for letting you wait, Zoe. I'd like to offer you a coffee but Ann has gone already and if she hears I haven't sent you straight to her I won't sit on my ass for a week."

My face must have shown disbelieve, or even shock, for she started to giggle and told me it was a joke while gently steering me out the door and telling me to hurry up. I would have liked to chat a few minutes. But she was right about sending me on my way. I really wanted, no, I needed to see Ann.

Twenty minutes later I arrived at Ann's place. Should I ring? Should I just enter as if I lived here? Did I live here? I shook my head. To worry about this was just stupid. I had a key, I would let myself in. Period. And tonight I would ask her to show me her studio.

So I finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, right into Ann's arms. It felt like coming home.

Ann

I left the studio early, Dee to busy on the phone to offer a parting shot. The breeze catching the wrapped poster as I walked back to the house, the house that now felt like home. A brief detour to pick up something for dinner, not that the cupboards and freezer were empty, just that I felt like making the extra effort.

Once home I placed the food on the kitchen counter and continued through to the second bedroom, to Zoe's bedroom, there I unwrapped the poster and after fetching a picture hook and hammer, I held the picture up, gauged the spot and hammered the hook it place. Lifting the poster up I levelled it and stepped back until my legs rested against the end of the bed, perfect.

An hour took care of the housework, laundry and emptying the fire's ash box, I laid the fire but didn't light it, the central heating keeps the house warm. A quick shower ended abruptly when my mobile began playing the opening chords to 'Erzebet Bathory's song' ... Dee's sense of humour, 'Forever slave' indeed... !!

"Your world just left," her voice a parody of ghoulishness, "I have sent her to you O dark one..." the cackling at the end was overdoing it a little, I thought, grinning to myself. Time to get cooking, "slaving over a hot cauldron?" No, perhaps not, "A hot slave over a cauldron?" Much better, but no time to play with my cauldron now, moist as it was with my thoughts of Zoe, time to cook. I finished towelling myself dry and slipped on a favourite cheongsam.

I had just selected a bottle of wine from the cellar and heard the key in the door as I passed. Putting aside the bottle I stepped behind the door as it opened, letting Zoe enter before slamming the door shut whilst grabbing her and wrapping her in my arms for a good long tongue lashing, the kind only a really deep passionate kiss can make possible.

Only the thought of cremated fish stopped Zoe from total ravishment right there in the hallway ... a fate not cancelled, just delayed I promised myself, whilst releasing a flushed and breathless Zoe with an admonition to wash up quickly as dinner was about to be served.

Zoe entered the kitchen just as I was plating the fish, perfect timing. I smiled as she poured the wine for us, then sat down to enjoy the meal. As usual we spoke little as we ate, communicating with smiles and eyes, words seemed somehow unnecessary.

Only as we shared another glass of wine, plates empty, fed and content did we begin to talk, a conversation that unusually faltered as Zoe hesitated, her words gradually descending into a series of 'umm's' and err's' ... I sipped my wine and waited, hoping I knew the reason, smiling and waiting for her.

Zoe's blushes spread out from her cheeks and neck as she sought the words... "I was ... wanted to ask when you could ... I mean ... I'd like to see your studio." A long pause whilst the blushes turned from hot pink to scarlet. "And the pictures."

"Of course you can see my studio ... when you are ready ... are you ready?"

"Yes, I think so." Her voice soft, but her eyes now steady, returning my gaze.

"You know you won't just be looking, don't you? To understand what I do, you need to experience a little of what I do..."

I watched her swallow hard, her eyes burning brighter. Putting aside the wine glass I smiled and waited.

Zoe squirmed in her seat, looked away, breaking our eye contact, seeming to gather herself, I wanted to reach out, to hug her, embrace and kiss away her doubts, but I needed her to do this alone.

"Oh" She turned back to meet my gaze, her words soft, but edged with determination. "I see." She paused, taking a deep breath as if about to dive into unknown waters. "Can we go now?"

"We can go now, we don't need to, but we can, if you are ready, because once there, you don't get to change your mind, afterwards you can decide, but whilst there, you see it through..."

Zoe's eyes grew wide, her whole body frozen, then with a visible shake as if to rid herself of some unseen covering, she stood, moving quickly to lean forward and kiss my lips, a brief kiss, as if sealing a contract. "I think I need to do this as long as I have enough courage to do so."

"Then let's go..." Taking her hand, I led her to the door, grabbing keys on the way to the door, shoes, coats, then out onto the street. We walked side by side, quick steps, my hand holding hers, her free hand holding my wrist, as if drawing something from the touch.

Locking the gallery door behind us I led Zoe deeper inside, to the corridor that connected to the studio, my dungeon, but not inside, not yet, first to prepare her. Opening one of the side doors I ushered her into the make-up room. Turning to face her, my hands holding hers, I smiled, kissed her tenderly, then spoke. "Remember the rules, no turning back," I kissed her again, squeezed her hands, then released her. "Strip."

My voice purposefully commanding, it sent a shiver through her body, even as she obeyed, slipping off her clothes, folding each and creating a small pile on the nearby chair. Once naked she stood before me, proud yet embarrassed, only those emerald eyes fully in control, centred on me, watching, waiting, obedient.

Zoe

"Zwei Herzen schlagen, ach, in meiner Brust!" Never did Goethe make more sense to me than in this moment as I was standing before Ann, feeling more naked than ever before in my life.

It had been like that all the time since I had made up my mind upon arriving at Ann's place. First I had been torn between going ahead and ask her what I wanted to ask her, part of me wanting to see it through and do it as soon as possible, part of me saying that no, this was to soon, I wasn't ready yet, wouldn't be for a long time. And so I had sat through our meal, my mind racing, opening my mouth to ask but unable to say the words. Then, finally, I asked, my face hot and blushing, embarrassment and shame conflicting with relief and ... yes, excitement.

"Of course you can see my studio ... when you are ready ... are you ready?"

My answer almost, but not quite, a lie. No, I wasn't ready. I didn't really think so. But I had known I wouldn't be more ready in a day, a week or even a month either. I was as ready as I would ever be.

"You know you won't just be looking, don't you? To understand what I do, you need to experience a little of what I do..."

No. I hadn't known. I didn't know. And if I had known I probably wouldn't have asked. But I had asked and now I was expected to say something. I understood that Ann wanted me to say either yes or no, that she would wait until I consciously made my own decision. For once the silence didn't feel comfortable but oppressive. Not because I had felt urged or hurried by Ann, I was pretty sure she'd give me all the time I needed. But more time wouldn't help me.

I didn't even know what I was afraid of. Certainly not of Ann, or I wouldn't be here. Maybe I was worried that I might not like it. Or maybe I was just as worried I might like, maybe even love it. I hadn't known, but I had known that I would never know if I just kept sitting here, biting my lips.

After what seemed to be a small eternity I had looked back at her, finally had made up my mind, summed up all my courage and asked her if we could go right now.

But Ann hadn't made it easy, quite to the contrary. She had said that once we were at her studio I couldn't change my mind anymore and had to see it through. Not what I had wanted to hear, not at all, but maybe she had it exactly right, maybe making that commitment was what I needed. And so I had leaned across the table, kissed her and said that I wanted to go.