Elise

"Elise," Chapter 8 (no sex)

Elise

I complained "Yeah, they're neat, I suppose. But look at the color. Not exactly a nice match with the outside of the car, is it?" The seats were two-tone, black and gray. Sandy mused, "No, wouldn't be my choice for a combo, either. But it's still a nice restoration, and good to know that people are willing to go to the trouble to bring a little of the past back to life."

I stared off for a second, saying "God, Dad does love this car. He acts like he's prouder of it than he is of me."

Sandy was quick to take issue with that. "Oh, I doubt that. He may just be the type who doesn't exactly know how to express his pride in you. There are a lot of people like that around. In fact, one of the things I learned at work, reading one of those surveys of managers, is that the thing that they liked the least about their jobs was when they had to praise their employees. Probably because it didn't come naturally to them and they felt awkward doing it. They might also be afraid that others will think they're showing weakness by handing out too much praise. Or maybe employees who are praised a lot might expect larger raises. Might be the same with your dad, did you ever consider that?"

"Maybe so," I allowed. "All I know is that he acts like whatever I accomplish was expected anyway, so there's no need to even mention it. I don't care how much I tell myself it doesn't matter, but if I'm being honest, sometimes it hurts a little."

"I can certainly understand that, dear. Everyone needs praise and recognition. It's good for the mind and it's good for the soul."

I looked right at him then. "I guess that's what I like about you, Sandy. I can trust you to be honest with me. You'll point out things I haven't quite gotten, but you'll also acknowledge the things I have. You're just honest, in a fair way. Know what I mean?" And this newly impulsive me put my hand on his.

"Sweet of you to say, Elise. I've always tried to be honest and have a sense of balance. Life is less stressful that way."

I drew my hand back, suddenly a little nervous about how fast I was going. "Well, Daddy, now that we have the mutual admiration society out of the way, can we finally talk about our favorite subject, BDSM?"

Chuckling, he replied, "Of course. What do you want to know? Knowing you, you've already picked up the basics from somewhere else."

"Well, I read the Wiki entry on the subject, and I've watched some porn."

"So, did any of that raise any particular questions in your mind?"

I thought on that a couple of seconds. "I saw a couple of porn videos where a guy had the girl tied up and her arms attached to a device hanging from the ceiling, and he was really giving it to her with a whip, raising welts. She was screaming out, thrashing about with every lash. It didn't look like she was enjoying that at all. I couldn't even watch the whole thing. Is that an example of BDSM?"

"Yes baby, it is, but only one flavor of it. I've seen some of what you're talking about, and I agree, it can be hard to watch. Not my piece of cake, either."

"Do they really hurt each other like that?" Lord, I hoped not.

"I'm sure with those who actually practice extreme forms, there can be some pain and injury involved. I understand that some people can get turned on by that, I suppose. I never understood how anyone can. I can't -- quite the opposite, actually. And let me go back to the videos you saw for a moment. You do realize that when you portray such a thing for entertainment purposes, in the production of it they can doctor it all kinds of ways to make it look more extreme than it really is? For instance, the whip might actually be soft and inflict no pain, and the actors are play-acting the pain, with appropriate sound effects thrown in. Welts having a lifelike appearance can also be painted on by makeup artists. Video clips can be put together to suggest a progression of markings on someone. We just don't know whether anyone was actually harmed in the production of any of those videos. In fact, some of those videos actually contain a disclaimer that no one was harmed."

Somewhat relieved at that perfectly reasonable answer, I pressed on. "So who decides how far something like that goes?"

"Ah, babygirl, now we get to the crux of the matter. No matter what form of BDSM -- any kind of sex, really -- you're into with anyone else, the most important thing, so important that it overshadows everything else, is that there be absolute mutual consent as to what is to take place, both as to the forms of sex play and the degree to which it's practiced between the participants. And, it goes without saying that all participants absolutely must stay within those consents."

"So, it would be hard to get comfortable with that kind of thing if it was with someone you didn't completely trust."

"Bingo, kid. Without complete and explicit trust, there can be no comfort level, and thus no real pleasure derived from a sex act. Because, in order to maximize pleasure, you must be comfortable, confident in knowing that nothing bad will happen. You must be relaxed and able to fully be yourself, to completely trust the person or people with whom you are playing.

"And baby, the trust goes both ways. Imagine that I'm the Dom and you're the sub. You have to completely trust me to keep within the parameters we've set for our play, parameters we both clearly understand and agree to beforehand, and to stop immediately if you ever tell me to stop, no questions asked. And I have to completely trust that you will immediately tell me to stop if things ever get to be too much for you; if you don't, I might not pick up on the fact I've gone too far, and I could hurt you without even knowing I'm doing so. Get that?"

"Yes sir, I do." I focused carefully on what we were discussing. "So, if you're the Dom, you're telling me what to do, right?" He nodded his head yes. "And I'm the sub, so I'm not supposed to tell you what to do." Again he nodded. "So, if you do go too far, how do I tell you to stop when I'm not supposed to tell you what to do at all?"

"Leads right into the next important thing, sweetie. We agree beforehand on what is called a 'safe word', a word that, if you as the sub ever utters it during sex play, everything, and I mean everything, immediately comes to a complete stop."

I wondered aloud "Why couldn't I just say 'no' or 'stop,' and something like that can be the safe word?"

He was ready with the answer. "Because the words 'no' or 'stop' are often an important part of the role-playing itself. For instance, if you're being a bad little girl, you disobey Daddy, and he decides to punish you, and you still want to disobey, I could be spanking you, and you might squirm, try to get away, cover up, and say 'no, Daddy' repeatedly, much as you would if your parents ever gave you a spanking you didn't want and you resisted. Acting that scenario out could be titillating for one or both of us and could add to the build-up of our excitement. If 'no' was the safe word, the first time you said it, everything would immediately stop. The erotic build-up we were working toward would be ruined.

"Instead, we always agree on a safe word that you, as the sub, wouldn't ever use in any context in the role-play other than to tell me, as the Dom, to stop. It should be a word very familiar to you, one you can recall instantly if needed, but one that could never possibly come up otherwise. My wife Beth and I had a particular safe word we used for our entire time together. If you were my sub, I'd suggest that you use, maybe, the last name of your favorite teacher. Or anything you're guaranteed to remember. If it was the name of one of your teachers, a nice little added bonus to that would be, every time you walked into his or her class, you'd momentarily think back to our naughty play, and amuse yourself that, unbeknownst to anyone at school but you, your teacher's name is your safe word, and that they would probably be appalled to know that." Smiling, he added, "Who knows, you might want to sit down, think some more about that and the dirty things we've done, and play with yourself a little at the start of class."

I squirmed a little at the thought of that. "Oh, Daddy, that's so naughty."

"Yes it is. And it would be your naughty little secret to have a little fun with."

"So what was the safe word you and your wife used?"

He shook his head. "No honey, I'll never tell. A few things should remain our own personal naughty little secrets."

"Sounds like a challenge to me, to get you to tell me."

"Forget it, babygirl. You won't ever get it out of me."

"Oh phooey Daddy. You're no fun," I countered, smirking at him. "So -- I get it so far. What are other important things I need to know?"

"While we are playing, what do you think is your main responsibility as a sub?" he asked.

"To listen to and to obey my Daddy."

"That's right. But it goes beyond that, honey. To create a really strong fantasy role play, and thus create as much sexual excitement as possible, it is the sub's responsibility, during play, never to do anything without asking and/or receiving permission from the Dom first. I'll give you a couple of examples, and I hope you're not embarrassed by either of them, but we're both adults here, you've shown you don't mind being a little naughty, and anyway, communication is key, so here goes. Suppose that, as a sub, your Dom instructs you to undress, one article of clothing at a time. So to start with, he orders you to take off your shoes. After you do, you are NOT to take off anything else, not even your socks if you're wearing them, until he instructs you to do so. You take off your shoes, then look at him and await further instructions. Any deviation, any misbehavior, gives the Dom a right to punish you in whatever way he thinks appropriate. Do you get that?"

"Yes, that seems clear enough."

"Here's another, more graphic example. Suppose your Daddy has you naked, lying on a bed, and orders you to start using your fingers to masturbate yourself. But he orders you NOT to make yourself orgasm, because he either wants to extend out the excitement for you, wants to finish you himself, or both. You are to touch yourself for him as instructed, but you must stop each time before you climax, no matter how impatient or frustrated that makes you. You are to do as he says, only what he says, trusting that he knows what's best for you. Is that clear, babygirl?"

"Yes, Daddy." I squirm in my seat a bit more, and Sandy notices.

"Are you getting a little excited hearing me describe that, babygirl?"

I am getting excited, but I'm still a little embarrassed about it. "Y--yes, Daddy."

He responded softly, "No need to be embarrassed, dear. We are talking about adult things here, fun things, natural reactions, things that are not bad in the least. Things that everyone should be comfortable talking about with close friends. OK?"

"Yes, Daddy. Thinking about what you just described is hot. Touching myself like that in front of someone else, something I've never done before, would be so naughty."

"Maybe so, but only in a nice way, and only if everyone consents."

"Yes, Daddy," I agreed.

He went on. "It's important to remember that 'Dom' and 'sub' are only roles played in the context of sexual activity. Partners playing those roles do not carry them outside the bedroom, or only outside wherever sex play happens. It's OK to use 'Daddy' and 'babygirl' during sex play and maybe at other private times, but out in public, the partners are equals and should call each other by their real names. In other words, sex play is acting out fantasy, while everything else is living in reality. It's like two different worlds. Sex play is like a private joke that two or more partners have. No one else is allowed in on the joke, unless all participants consent to it. That's part of the trust factor -- each participant depends on the others to be discreet and keep the secrets of sex play between only them, so no one is ever embarrassed or compromised in any way.

"And babygirl, here's one I really want you to think about. My wife Beth loved being a sub, looked forward to it every day of our marriage. You know why that is?"

I regarded him with a smile, which I hoped was both cute and sexy. "No, why is that, Daddy?"

"Because it freed her from ALL responsibilities, for whatever length of time we played. Outside our playtime, she had all kinds of real-life responsibilities, all the normal adult roles -- wife, mother, manager of the household, daughter to her parents, aunt, cousin, employee, decision-maker. But within our sexual roles, she had no responsibility for herself or for anyone or anything else. I, as her Dom, took care of everything, her included. I made all the decisions, took all responsibility for the success of our play on my shoulders. Literally all she ever had to do was listen to my instructions, follow them and obey me to the letter, take her punishment if I administered it, just let everything go, and just enjoy it all. She was completely free to be herself, express herself and her personality sexually. Beth knew with total certainty that I would always take care of her needs, no matter what, and would always cherish her, protecting her as my sub, above all else. Absolutely 100% trust, no need to worry about a single thing, as long as we played."

There was silence as I took all that in, considering just what that meant.

He continued, "And babygirl, anyone else who became my sub would be free in exactly the same way. If it was you, dear, all your responsibilities and worries -- school, athletics, home, parents, everything, whatever -- go away during sex play. You forget them all for as long as you want to play, completely, and live 100% in the moment with me, letting me control you, yes, but willingly giving up control, letting me take care of you, letting me protect you, letting me see to your every need and desire. Something I'm fairly sure you've never had in your life. All you'd ever have to do is ask your Daddy for what you needed, and if it was within his power, he'd provide it for you. Because it's something you've never been gifted with, this total lack of worries and responsibilities would be very frightening, maybe even confusing sometimes, to you at first -- it took Beth awhile to get used to completely letting everything go in the beginning -- but I promise you that if you gave yourself over to it, trusted me completely, let me have all the burdens, and just went with the flow, you'd come to love it as you never have anything else in your life."

I sat there beside my new friend, a man much older than me, a man who was telling me about the sex play he practiced all those years, and I tried to grasp the enormity of what he was saying. Letting everything go and completely trusting someone else, when I've only ever trusted myself for as long as I could remember, would certainly be a big step, a completely new experience. I could see how it could be frightening, all right, but at the same time the thought of such a new experience, shared with someone else I liked and trusted, was exciting as well. I knew I was getting a little aroused -- it was a feeling I felt each time right before I masturbated, letting myself be turned on by something erotic as a nice way to prepare my body to feel good.

***************

Sandy

There it was. I had just given my best sales pitch to this barely-legal but very grown-up girl who was fast becoming a wonderfully interesting and textured woman, and, chances are, would in the future become the perfect partner for some lucky man. A man who was out there somewhere, right now, maybe yet just a boy, but one who had no idea what love, excitement, and beauty he was in for when Elise is finally brought into his life. At this moment, sitting in her car, I wished that there was a chance I could be that man, but knew that was impossible. She had her whole life ahead of her, and I had an obligation to put aside whatever selfish desires I had, to encourage her to ultimately live her life with one who was a contemporary, so they could live a long and happy life together just as Beth and I once did. But in the meantime, before Elise went off to college and her future, I dearly hoped that she would be open to exploring her budding sexuality, finding out a bit more, with my help, about who she was as a person and as a woman.

Again, there was silence. I broke it by softly asking, "Have I given you enough to chew on, or do you have other questions?"

A couple more seconds passed, and Elise answered, "I have a lot to think about, Sandy. I want to go on home and do just that the rest of this weekend."

"So, dear sweet girl, I will take my leave of you and give you that chance."

"Not before you do three more things for me," she replied.

"And what are they?"

"First, let me have your phone number, so I can call or text you with questions or to talk."

"Done," I said, giving her my phone so she could copy my number into hers.

"Second, let me drive you home if you walked here."

"I drove here, sweetie, so no need for that. I've got that Toyota right over there," I told her, pointing toward the only car remaining in the same row in which she was parked.

"And lastly, I need one of your nicest hugs, please."

"You got it, dear," I said softly as I gladly slid over into her arms, again silently thanking her dad for the bench seat. I was going to hold this girl as long as she wanted. We held it awhile, I doing little swirls back and forth on her back with my hands, she doing the same to me. Nothing needed to be said. This high school sweetheart felt so warm, so good, so right in my arms. What holding her like that did to the feeling at my groin was pleasant, to say the least.

Finally she disengaged, but all at once brought her mouth to mine and kissed me on the lips, close-mouthed, holding it softly for maybe a full second. She backed away somewhat shyly, but with amusement written all over her face. "Sandy, you look like you just saw a ghost," she said, laughing.

I let out a deep breath and shook my head, saying, "Thank you for the kiss, the hugs, and the company today. See you at the next volleyball game, babygirl," as I exited her car. I knew I needed to get out of there, before I was tempted to go further with Elise than was wise or proper at that point in time.