[Fiction] Trust/Fall, Chapter 1 (Complete)

So, it’s come to this. I not only managed to stick to releasing this thing, I actually managed getting an entire chapter finished! It’s collected here for ease of reading. I toyed with the idea of waiting and releasing this Thursday instead of the first part of Chapter 2, but there was rather insistent demand for new material.

A sincere thank you to everyone who has encouraged me and shared the story so far. I promise that there is a lot more to come.

Oh! And if you missed the prelude, click here!


“Fuck,” I whimpered at the dead piece of vinyl between my legs and my nose curled at the faint smell of smoke. This wasn’t working. A magic wand is a terrible thing to waste, and burning one out seemed a bit more like pointed commentary that I was comfortable with. Fifteen minutes and a cold shower later, it still wasn’t sitting well with me as I toweled off my shoulder length hair. I looked down at the dead vibrator sitting sadly on my bed and frowned. I flicked the switch back and forth and offered prayers to whatever god looks out for single kinky girls. Nope.

Flopping on the couch in a fuzzy blue bathrobe, I stared up at the stucco and thought about my options. School was a no, the less anyone there knew about my personal life or proclivities the better. Bars were…problematic, the kind of things I liked to do were best done sober and not with complete strangers. Personal ads? Nah, that just seemed like a good way to wind up in pieces in the river. “Fuck,” I reiterated with a heavy sigh into wet blonde bangs. Propping myself up on one shoulder I poked the laptop on my coffee table to life and with one finger poked out: ‘bdsm clubs’. Huh. That was surprisingly easy.

I mean, sure, first I had to scroll through a host of sites form the early days of the net, had to break out the brain bleach to deal with loud color schemes, autoplaying metal music, and so called ‘true dom’ bullshit, but in the end? I found a name: Sable, an address, and a calendar of events. With one of those events, a tea & coffee munch, being held in just two days. I paused as I looked at the event details. Maybe this had been too easy. I think my mind had wanted something more unattainable, something to think about and fantasize over, and eventually give up on. I hadn’t really expected it to be as easy as just, showing up and having a cup of tea. And now that it was, my stomach squirmed a bit as I tried to think of a good excuse. I bit my lip as I stared at the screen. My mouse hovered above a small RSVP button. And I clicked, and began typing an e-mail.

We’ve all got times in our life that we look back on and think: what would have happened had I done this differently? Where would I be if I had stayed home? Would things be the same had something different? And its infuriating, because you’ll likely miss the biggest decision of your life when you’re making it. You can only see that sort of in retrospect and then sometimes you’ll lay awake at night and gaze into the dark and entertain: what if? And those thoughts? They terrify me. Because I look at what came from that night, and can’t imagine my life any other way.

* * *

It turns out that the human perception of time is relative. Yeah, I know. Not exactly the biggest insight there. We’ve all had good times fly by while those things we would rather not linger: class, dentist visits, etc. take forever. Those two days? They took around two years, minimum. My anxiety used that time to run amok. What would these people be like? What should I wear? What if someone from school found out? Thoughts and fantasies about it occupied almost every moment not spent on class or sleep.

Of course, when the time came it was all rushing and cursing the traffic for making me get home late. Then it was popping in and out of a shower and racing through my wardrobe trying to find any of the outfits I had spent hours planning. Not to mention what I had to do to make my hair actually behave. Somehow though, it all came together. I made it out the door in a style that was both cute and warm: heeled boots, tights, and a cute black dress bundled beneath a scarf and a gray tweed trench coat.

The place really was just a short hop from my apartment. I’m not quite sure what expected from a depraved sex dungeon, but I actually drove right past it at first because it was so unassuming. Sable was tucked away down a little side street in a slice of downtown more devoted to shopping and nightlife than business. It was the only business on that street, but it shared a building with a bar and a darkened, “appointments only” junk shop. The windows were heavily tinted and the name was spray painted on a stretch of wall to the left of the door in a metal album cover style. The only thing that really indicated the place’s true nature was the gaggle of black leather clad smokers crowding the front walk and hovering around patio furniture.

I flushed as I walked to the door, eyes on the sidewalk. I could feel people looking at me, making comments to each other, and I knew I should say ‘hi’, but it was taking all my focus to just tamp down my nerves as I made it to the door. As it opened, a gust of warm air teased my red cheeks and brought the smell of coffee, tea, and spices. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim indoors and begins to take things in: tables, chairs, a long wooden bar; people in groups talking quietly or laughing boisterously; and a small stage space where a person patiently layered rope around an uncertain looking boy. Yeah, either this was it or I’d just walked into a really big coincidence.

“Hey, welcome!”

My reaction got a laugh. I’m told I looked like a deer in headlights. The bartender waved me over with a grin. “Menu’s up there, byob, limited food. House rules over there. Any questions?”

“Yeah, a few…”

* * *

“So…they say you have spooky mind powers.” I said with a nervous little laugh. It wasn’t the best pickup line, as these things go. But then, I was a bit out of my element here. I’d never actually been inside a BDSM club until a couple hours ago. Now I was trying to chat someone up at one. Besides, I’d never been good at this whole thing: being single, dating, etc.

The raven-haired woman looked up from her book. She took me in at a glance and then quirked a dark eyebrow and smirked. “Oh really?” She said, her voice honey laced with sarcasm. “And just who would ‘they’ be?”

I flushed a little. Then I hurriedly gestured at the person who had been up on stage tying a boy when I came in: all lanky and tattooed with a short-cropped blaze of neon red hair. “Them. Jacques. Y’know…cute, genderqueer, obsessed with rope?”

She looked over my shoulder to see Jacques, now draped over the lap of a woman done up in a corset and petticoats, and couldn’t resist a smile. “Oh. Well, they certainly say a lot of things. And I wouldn’t believe half of it if I were you.” She used her foot to push out a chair from the little wooden table she had claimed in a rather private corner of the club. “Sit.”

I could have said something about how it wasn’t a request. I could have acknowledged how that casual level of command simultaneously rubbed me in both the wrong and right ways. Instead I just set my teacup down on the table and sat myself down in the chair. “Are you saying you don’t have spooky mind powers? Cause I have to admit, that got my curiosity up.”

She took a sip of her coffee, leaving a crimson crescent on the cup. “I mean, I certainly didn’t say that.” She extended a hand. “Vivian.”

We shook, her skin was warm and a little rough. It was hard to say how old she was, though I’d guess there was almost a decade between us. “Zoe.”

“Oh, really? So tell me, is it just a coincidence that you’re named for a woman who couldn’t resist temptation?” Her eyes sparkled at her own cleverness. She wasn’t letting go of my hand, and I was in no hurry to take it back.

My stomach squirmed. “I mean, I had another name once…prefer not to talk about it though.” I said, looking down and away. Presumably she’d find out sooner or later.

“Ah.” It was a small noise. And then she squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not going to talk about anything you don’t want to. Okay?”

I smiled, I couldn’t help it. “Appreciated. So…mind powers?”

She gently let go of my hand and leaned back. Her teeth were perfectly predatory, and she ever so idly began to toy with her necklace: a pendant of some kind of dark, reflective stone. “Tell me…do you know much about hypnosis?”

* * *

I was falling.

Something came up to meet me. It was warm and cradled me as I tumbled down. It felt like sinking into a sea of warm sand. My body was heavy, but it floated. My thoughts drifted. I could feel her hand on my cheek. I could hear her words, even if I couldn’t quite understand them.

Later, I would be surprised at how little time had passed. But that was later.

And suddenly words I could understand came bubbling through my head, words in Vivian’s honey voice dripping their way across my placid surface, making ripples: “And how do you feel now?”

“Good.” The word echoed up slowly from the well of my reality.

“And would you like more?”

“Yes.” Quiet and eager. Almost desperate.

I continued to fall. And I was gone.

I gasped with pleasure, mind reeling as her finger lazily wandered its way along my clit.

“There we go. Good girl.” She murmured.

At some point I had gone from dressed and sitting across from her on her bed to laying back naked against her. Her arms wrapped around me, my head nestled beneath her chin. I pushed back into her as she continued to touch and tease, small short gasps the only sound I could make.

“You were already so sensitive and grinding against me, and I just couldn’t help myself.” She purred, clearly amused. “I made everything a little more sensitive.”

I wanted to curse. I wanted to scream. The sensation was so intense it was agony, but it was agony buried under waves of intense pleasure. I stopped breathing for a few seconds, my mouth worked uselessly.

She leaned down and kissed me then, distracting my lips from their futile attempts to make words. I arched up to meet her. And I whined pitifully when her lips eventually drew away.

“No, shush now, I don’t think you get to talk.” She drew her hand away and hugged me tight as my hips lewdly, uselessly worked against the air, “The only thing you get to do is come. Come for me. Now.”

And I did. Just from her words in my ear. Just from her voice in my head. I had the most intense orgasm I’d ever had as she held me and kissed the top of my head.

“Good girl.” She said again. Then she said something else, but I wasn’t there anymore.

I was beneath her. The warmth of her thighs around me, her weight on my chest. My head swam as her hand ran through my hair. My eyes fluttered as the scent of her filled me. Her free hand gently played with my left nipple as she smiled down at me.

“I figured we’d both want you to be awake for this part.”

I was powerless but to blush and agree.

And then she shifted her hips forward, and I learned that the honey between her legs was just as sweet as that which flowed from her lips.

* * *

Some women just wake up looking beautiful. I have never considered myself one of them. So, I hadn’t really intended to be waking up in a strange woman’s bed within eighteen hours of meeting her. Luckily, I woke up first. Which meant I had plenty of time to waffle between freaking out and marveling at how cute Vivian looked sleeping next to me. It was hard to imagine that this serene sleepy woman had been the smoldering domme of my fantasies last night. I felt a happy little squirm in my stomach just remembering it. On second thought, I was glad I’d stayed over. Otherwise I really might have thought that it was all just a (soaking wet) dream.

I sighed and felt around on the floor for my purse, grabbed it, and washed down my morning meds with a swig from the water bottle on the bedside table. Then I went digging for my compact and tried to figure out just how disheveled I looked. Vivian must have felt me moving around. She rolled over, blinked a few times, and brushed strands of dark hair out of her face.

“Awww, kitten,” she said with a bemused grin as she placed a reassuring hand on my thigh. “I promise you’re just as much of a hottie by the dawn’s early light.”

And my cheeks were burning again. “Hey, I…sorry to wake you,” I said, awkwardly fumbling for whatever it is you’re supposed to say in these situations.

She sat up in bed, wrapped her arms around me, and pulled me back against her. Her body was warm and comfortable, and I desperately wanted to nuzzle back into her and fall back asleep. Apparently, Vivian had other plans. “Cute enough that I could be tempted into another round,” she said as she kissed my neck. “After I pee. Be back.”

She hopped up and padded to the bathroom, leaving me with my heart fluttering and a helpless grin. Both of which lasted until I heard noise from the rest of the house.

“Hey, Viv? I didn’t ask, do you live alone?” I called out. No response. Feeling suddenly self-conscious I began to dig around for my clothes. I couldn’t quite remember where they wound up last night. I was still looking when I a voice bellowed from the hall.

“All hail the conquering her-“

I grabbed at the covers, trying for modesty. Jacques burst in the door to the bedroom, same clothes as yesterday and a silly grin which quickly turned to awkward surprise. At the same moment, Vivian came out of the bathroom and stopped, naked and clearly annoyed.

“Jacques.” She said, rubbing her forehead. “Knock. That’s all I ask. It’s not that hard.”

Jacques nodded, chastised. Then couldn’t contain themself and broke out into a grin. “Wait…new girl! You’re the new girl from the club.” They winked at Vivian. “Way to go, mom!”

I fumbled for words, face crimson. And then I stopped, and stared at Vivian. “Wait. Mom?”