Emily's Initiation
To see an attractive woman walking along the picturesque, cozy streets of the French Quarter is by no means an unusual occurrence. Actually it seems to be the norm. This being the case, Emily Barrow was not at all out of place as she strolled along Burgundy and turned right on Conti toward Bourbon Street. Her "gap year" before starting college had turned into a "gap eighteen months" which displeased her parents more than she had expected. Now, however, the 21 year old was buckling down and during summer term she was taking a full load that would put her back on track as a Sophomore in the fall.
Just over a quarter mile further along the coed's path, Lorraine Devaneaux leaned casually, arms folded, against the railing of a balcony that overlooked Bourbon Street shading the sidewalk below and the entrance to her club Bisous de Papillon, Butterfly Kisses. On Mardi Gras nights her balcony provided her guests an intimate vestibule from which to view the parades and toss the occasional string of beads.
Lorraine grew up in this residential space above her club. The club and residence was the only home she has ever known. She became the owner eight years before, when her mother finally lost her long, difficult battle with the cancer that ravaged her increasingly frail body. She passed on a Monday, not quite three weeks before her daughter's eighteenth birthday and, as was her wish, her strong, independent daughter strode steadily into the future taking over her mothers duty and making sure there was not a moments interruption when she opened for business the following weekend.
This summer afternoon was bright and sunny, so the street was fairly busy. Tourists milled around and locals scurried along their way to evening work at one of the clubs or home after perhaps working a lunch shift at one of the restaurants in the area. The real crowds would be arriving a few hours latter however. Friday night in the French Quarter was a time when fun loving people wanted to see and be seen, and Butterfly Kisses was one of the 'see and be seen' hot spots.
Making her way to the planned rendezvous with the mysterious proprietress, the attractive Jersey Girl's heart raced with anticipation. She had ,perhaps, presented herself as somewhat more worldly than her reality supported.
When Emily met Lorraine she was immediately fixated on the woman taken by her flame red hair and piercing green eyes. Descending the staircase onto the floor of the club, her movement was intoxicating. Her muscular body rippled with every effortless step. The top button on her red satin blouse was just below her sternum leaving the garment tantalizingly open between her breasts. She wore black leather pants and patent leather pumps with a five inch heel.
That first night proved to leave Emily with more questions than answers regarding her hidden desires. Over the next weeks she spent more time learning about what she was feeling. Talks with Stacey and Roz led to her realization that the person most knowledgeable on the subject was in fact Lorraine. So finally, quite nervously, she approached Lorraine with some of her questions.
Emily found Sundays to be a time when she could engage Lorraine. She would often have brunch at the club on Sunday's when the crowd was less boisterous and more intimate. These were the occasions when she and Lorraine would talk books or movies or even politics from time to time, but always, there would be some discussion of dominate/submissive relationships.
The two women learned the most about each other, however, when the subject of one Sunday conversation turned to the runaway best seller 'Fifty Shades of Gray'. Emily expressed her intrigue with the books portrayal of the BDSM lifestyle, but was even more intrigued when Lorraine pointed out many things to which only a seasoned BDSM practitioner would relate.
The women sat at a small table for two in a back corner sharing a bottle of white wine and Eggs Benedict as they talked about some of the erotic passages.
"How would you picture yourself in that scene, as the one using the whip or the one being punished?" asked Lorraine, with a wry smile.
"Not that I would want to be whipped, but I would see myself more as Anastasia than a female Christian." replied Emily.
"Maybe that is a common trait of Literature students." laughed Lorraine, referring to the Emily and Anastasia's shared field of study.
Emily thought about that conversation and all the others they shared over the past six months, and how those talks laid the basis for the upcoming afternoon. Her mind wandering as the sound of the spiked heels of her red strappy sandals clicked on the concrete sidewalk with her every step. The shoes complimented her solid white, backless halter dress. The top of the dress was split between her modest breasts and tied in a bow behind her neck. Her golden tan and honey blonde hair stood out in contrast to the white as did her crimson nails, fresh from a mani-pedi earlier in the day.
Lorraine spotted Emily as she approached on the opposite side of the street. About midway in the block, she crossed the street diagonally looking back over her shoulder to insure there was no traffic hazard then looking up to the balcony with a smile and Loraine peered down at her.
Emily was quickly out of Lorraine's view as she passed beneath the overhanging balcony and stepped into the recessed alcove that led to the apartments front door. As she reached to press the doorbell, Emily's heart was in her throat. She replayed Lorraine's invitation and the matter of fact way it had been delivered after they agreed that they would share an afternoon D/s session.... "Wear a pretty white dress." Lorraine had said, "If you don't have one, buy one. Be at my loft at 4:00PM sharp. That will give us a good amount of time before the club gets active."
It was 4:00 PM on the dot when she pressed the doorbell. In a moment she heard footsteps through the heavy wood door before it swung open.
A wry smile settled upon Lorraine's lips as she looked the girl up and down, taking her hand as she leaned to kiss her first on one cheek then the other. 'Very European' thought the girl silently.
"Welcome Mon Ami," said Lorraine.
"Merci," began Emily, "and now you know the extent of my vocabulaire Francais."
Both women chuckled realizing that there was a friendship taking root and perhaps even more as Lorraine continued to hold the girls left hand as she led her to the staircase. Ascending behind the redhead, Emily made a mental note of just how striking Lorraine was. Her thick red hair was pulled back and held in place by an ornate leather stick barrette. She wore snug fitting tank top which accentuated the muscularity of her back. The landing at the top of the staircase opened up into the living room, but Lorraine opened an adjacent door that led into another room, what she referred to as her 'playroom'. It was in this room the pair would spend their afternoon.
Only Lorraine knew how meaningful this next bit of time would be. She had experienced such a time with several girls in Emily's position. Girls who were experimenting with their desires, their sexuality. At a point that they were as yet not totally evolved, having not yet developed any kinks, any quirks of desire. Of course she had no way of knowing just how their time would affect the younger woman. It might ignite desires that she would pursue with vigor for years to come, or it might prove to deviant and revolting and she might turn away from this lifestyle completely. Only time and the next hour would really tell. The next hour would be Emily's "Golden Hour".
