CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They drove downtown again the next day, recovered her car and some more boxes from her office, then drove to the police department's downtown precinct. Saturday afternoons didn't seem like a busy time for the Seattle police and the large building seemed half empty. They spent two hours filling out forms and waiting on hard plastic chairs before they were given any advice. The obviously overworked detective didn't feel that there was much point in taking any further steps. Hundreds of men would match the description that Cole and Monica had given. The detective called the building security office and it turned out that the security cameras were inoperative that week, so there would be no pictures of the assailant.
Returning to the house in her own car, Monica put the remains of her ruined suit in the trash and decided to get on with her life. Moving the last of her possessions into the house she now shared with Cole helped to occupy her thoughts.
She was a little paranoid for the next few days, but by the time she reported for work at her new job, she appeared, at least on the surface, to have recovered completely. The job turned out to be everything she hoped for. The concentration that was required to bring herself up to speed helped her put the frightening episode almost entirely behind her.
Aside from a heightened interest in security and a sudden increase in trips to the gun club, the only lasting effect was an inability to feel submissive. Even when she and Cole would engage in their sexy D/S games, the lovely feeling that she had once craved was absent. It was as if she wanted to deny the existence of that part of her personality.
Figuring that nature would take its course, Cole simply waited. He believed that someone as naturally submissive as Monica would have to return to her normal personality eventually and he was a patient man. He was also very much in love and knew that he would accept whatever form of sexuality she happened to display.
Even without the spark of dominance and submission, their sex life was still an active one. They both had healthy libidos and living together gave them plenty of opportunities to enjoy each other. Cole allowed her to take the initiative and determine when they would run for the big bed and dive under the covers together. He rather enjoyed the chance to explore this new area of her sexuality. She was comforted by the knowledge that he still loved her even when she was unable to be submissive.
Snuggling in bed on the first rainy night of the Northwest Autumn, he felt her warm, dry skin and inhaled her healthy, slightly perfumed scent. He decided to ask her how she was feeling about her submissiveness. Holding her spoon-fashion with his right arm wrapping around beneath her narrow waist he asked quietly, "Have you had any kinky feelings lately?"
"It's hard to describe, lover. I can tell that my subby feelings are still there, but when they try to surface, I just push them back down and wait for them to go away," her voice contained a subtle tension that revealed the magnitude of the problem.
He snuggled closer, cupping her breast tighter. "That's sad. Does it bother you very much?
"Yeah... it does, but I don't know what to do about it. Maybe it will take a long time. I'd love to be my old subby self again. I'm just too scared of it. I can't seem to relax and let it come back."
"According to the Master's Handbook, I'm supposed to give you a good spanking, then fuck you in the ass, but -- being the wimpy Master that I am -- I'm willing to wait as long as it takes." They both chuckled at the thought, knowing that he would never attempt to force her into submission.
"I suppose you could see a therapist, but I can't imagine what they'd say when you tell them you want your submissiveness back," he smiled. "Maybe you should start all over like you were just discovering the scene for the first time."
"Hmmm... I think you're onto something there," she said as she reached back to grab his cock beneath the covers.
As he enjoyed her gentle stimulation he thought out loud. "Maybe it's time for us to attend some scene events. One of their primary functions is to make kinky people feel better about their sexuality. Sounds like just the sort of thing you could use right now."
She rolled over and began to engage in one of her favorite activities. Taking her lover's manly organ into her mouth, she licked, kissed and sucked in all the ways that she knew would drive him completely crazy.
"Slow down, my little felatrix. I'm still thinking about scene events. Why don't we go to a meeting of our local kinky group this Thursday? The announcement on the net said they were having a caning demonstration. Hey, that's enough!"
Monica pushed him down on the bed and mounted his rock hard shaft. He normally did not like positions that cast him in the submissive role, but seeing her delicate bouncing breasts so close to his face overcame his reluctance. They both had a very adequate climax and went to sleep feeling satisfied. During the night they slid their bodies together several times for more semi-conscious cuddling and closeness.
On Thursday, they both arrived home around five thirty and ate a quick dinner. By the time they made the drive into downtown Seattle, the traffic was light. Cole watched her for signs of nervousness, but she seemed calm. He had explained to her that the meetings were designed to be strictly informative and non-threatening.
She was still a bit worried that she might meet someone she knew from work. He explained to her that there was no need to worry. If you met someone you knew, they had at least as much to worry about as you did. They were not going to cause you any trouble because you could do the same to them. He told her that this was a variation on the old cold war strategy of mutually assured destruction and it was a foolproof safety system.
Many people avoided the meetings because they were afraid that they would find themselves in a room full of dangerous perverts. Although Monica had heard several benign descriptions of the meetings, she was still a bit worried. She was also nervous because the meeting site in the Capitol Hill district was the closest she had gotten to the place where she was attacked in over a month. They finally found a place to park in a residential area about four blocks from the meeting hall. Monica stayed close to Cole as they walked along the dark wet street.
The group met in a building that contained several public meeting halls which could be rented for a small fee. In a nearby room, another group appeared to be holding a church related conference. Monica grinned as she wondered if they knew what kind of perverts were gathering next door.
The room looked like it had once been a classroom. There were about fifty plastic chairs in neat rows and some well-worn folding tables at the front. Just inside the door a pleasant looking redhead in a tight black dress collected a few dollars from each person and handed out a small newsletter containing event announcements, articles and personal ads. Everyone was given a stick-on name tag and people wrote whatever name they preferred to use with a blue marking pen.
They sat down in the back row and she tried not to stare at the twenty or thirty people who were already there. Like Cole and Monica, most of them looked like they had just come from work. There were a number of men in suits and sport coats, some with pagers or cell phones on their belts. There were a few sexy women that drew most of Monica's attention. She wondered if they were pro-Dommes.
The room gradually filled with exceedingly normal looking people, about half male, half female. Monica studied them carefully, while trying not to be too obvious. Less than ten percent showed any overt signs of kinkiness. She noticed several leather jackets and a few people who obviously had a piercing fetish. Monica had never before seen someone with a piercing through the bridge of their nose. She asked herself, "Wouldn't those little silver balls be visually distracting?"
Before she had time to inspect everyone in the group, a friendly fellow stood at the front of the room and called the meeting to order. It was obvious that he was enjoying himself, leading the group, and he began to read a series of announcements.
"There will be a meeting of the kinky writer's group at Mistress Selena's house at seven PM next Tuesday."
"The women's welcoming committee meets every Wednesday at The Edge Cafe. All women who are interested in learning more about the scene are welcome. See Joan if you have any questions. Stand up so we can see you, Joan." One of the more attractive women, with very long black hair stood in the front row and waved at the group. Monica noticed that she had a nice body and was wearing little earrings that looked like floggers.
"Please notice Joan's column in this month's newsletter about negotiating a scene. Extra copies of the newsletter may be purchased for three dollars if you need another one for a friend."
When the club president was finished with the announcements, the next item of business was an opportunity for everyone to give an introduction. Each person who wanted to participate was allowed to stand up, give their name and say a few words about their kinky preferences or experiences. The technique had been copied from a successful group in Chicago and it was intended to make the members feel better about their particular fetish or sexual preference.
A harmless looking fellow in a rumpled sport coat stood up first, "Hi, my name is John, I've been in the scene six months and I'm a bottom."