Valerie

Chapter Three

Commitment

Valerie woke up at about half past noon, stretched, and regretted it. Sore muscles and red welts complained at the motion. "Oh my. The sins of the night come back to haunt us, don't they?" she said out loud. "Those two really put my body through the wringer. Uh…I can't believe that I never got their names. That is so unlike me. Of course, a slave has no business asking her owners their names."

She hauled her aching body to the tub and ran a nice hot bath with a little lavender bath oil to soak in. Easing herself into the tub, she felt the hot water and soothing oil relaxing her body's aches and pains. While she soaked, she looked over the visible evidence of last night's intense activities. There were red marks, not really welts, across her breasts and tummy from Mistress' crop. Her pussy had four as well. Just looking at them caused her to cringe at the memory of the crop smacking against her cunt. While most had faded, a few of the rope impressions were still visible on her arms and legs. While she couldn't see them prior to getting out and checking in the mirror, her back was covered in red marks, a couple being full blown welts from the initial whipping she had experienced.

"If this is the type of play that I and my Dom(s) are going to engage in, I'm going to need a special wardrobe for post play public appearances," she mused. "I'm not sure my coworkers at the agency will understand or appreciate someone who gets whipped and tortured every weekend."

Once the water had lost most of its heat, she got out, drained the tub, and dressed in a robe. She had no desire to go out and about. Francine would not be back until late, and talking to her would hopefully be the last piece of research she would need on Charles. She was also dying to share her recent experiences with her best friend, knowing now that Francine would understand what she was going through.

It dawned on her that she had not checked the mail yesterday with the late night Friday and the activities of the evening. The book she ordered should have arrived by now. She didn't pay an extra $12 for express shipping to wait until next week. Slipping on some slippers, she grabbed her keys and went down stairs to the mailboxes. Sure enough, Saturday's mail was still there, along with a notice that they were unable to deliver a package due to size. She would have to stop by the post office tomorrow to pick it up.

She got back to her apartment just in time to hear the beep of her answering machine. She had apparently just missed an incoming message. The caller ID indicated a pay phone with an out of town prefix. Curious, she pressed the play back key on the machine and was startled to hear Francine's voice. Her friend sounded truly scared.

"Val, if you're there, pick up. I'm in trouble. Please pick up! I told Harv my secret and he freaked. He hit me and left me stranded at the cabin. I'm at the 7-11 at exit 23, the one next to the Foster's Motel. Val, I have no money and no transportation. Can you please come and pick me up? If it takes too long, the manager is going to call the police. I hope you get this soon."

Her own pains forgotten in a surge of adrenalin, Valerie rushed to her bedroom and threw some clothes on: jeans, sweatshirt, and running shoes. Grabbing her cell phone and keys, she left her apartment and headed straight for the parking facility. In the car, she pulled on to the road and, using the voice dialing feature, called information. Getting the number for Foster's Motel, she dialed again and informed the desk clerk who answered that she wanted to book a room for a friend and pay with her credit card. That accomplished, she got the 7-11's number from information and called them. It took a threat of legal action for them to agree to let Francine buy anything she needed on the credit card number she provided and to tell Francine that she could wait at the hotel in room 13.

Exit 23 was 150 miles from town and she did not want her friend waiting in the open under threat of police action for the next two hours. Careful to not draw attention to herself, she kept under the speed limit and religiously followed all the traffic laws. The last thing she needed was to have to explain a series of whip marks to a state patrolman or deputy. As she drove, her anger at Harv simmered, turning into a well-done batch of hatred. She could understand Harv not wanting anything to do with a BDSM lifestyle, but to hit his girlfriend and leave her stranded in a remote cabin? What was the asshole thinking? She would love to get him onto a cross table and show him the darker side of bondage and discipline.

Val reached the exit and pulled into the parking lot of the 7-11. Not seeing her friend outside, she went in and demanded, "What happened to my friend?"

"Miss, I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Valerie Burbon. I spoke to you on the phone two hours ago. You were supposed to let my friend have anything she wanted and tell her to go to the motel."

"Oh, Miss Burbon. You talked to Frank. He's off now, but he told me you might be in. This is the receipt for her purchases and I expect she is over at the motel. If you don't mind my saying so, ma'am, she needs to see a doctor. Frank said she looked pretty beat up."

"Thanks. I'll see she gets all the help she needs."

Val drove across the way to the motel and parked in front of room 13. Going up to the door, she knocked and called out, "Francine, it's me, Valerie. Can I come in?"

She heard someone moving inside and the door opened. The frightened voice of her friend called from behind the door, "Come on in."

Valerie went in and gasped as the door closed and she saw her friend. Francine's body looked like

it

had seen the dark side of the lifestyle. Both her eyes were black and the lower lip was swollen. She was wearing a bra and panties that were not intended to cover anything up. There were bruises on her shoulders and belly. Her feet looked like they had been cut to ribbons. There was blood on the things she was wearing, though Val could not see any sign of cuts or gashes. She had obviously been crying.

Stunned, Val was unable to say anything but, "Francine…"

The beaten woman lost what little composure she had been holding onto and collapsed into Valerie's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Val leaned back against the door and just held her friend as the accumulated pain, misery, fear, and grief poured out of her in huge raking sobs. Valerie herself broke down, crying with and for her friend. Valerie knew that she should get her friend's injuries treated sometime soon, but this had to happen first.

After what seemed like an eternity of tears, they both reached a point where they could talk again. When she looked into her friend's face again, Val could still see an edge of fear in Francine's eyes, fear of Val herself. Knowing she had to let her friend open up on her own terms, she helped her to the bed and got the first aid kit Francine had bought at the 7-11. She carefully cleaned her friend's feet, applied an antibiotic ointment and wrapped them in dry gauze.

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked her injured friend.

"I don't know. I don't want you to hate me or despise me."

"Francine, you were the one attacked, not Harv. We're not supposed to hate the victims. Besides, you're my best friend. There is

nothing

you could say to me that would make me think any less of you. Friends stick by one another through anything."

"But I told Harv my secret and he did this. It's so horrible, I doubt even you could accept me once you know."

Val realized then, that Francine was so terrified, not of being physically hurt again, but of another rejection. She knew she had to put her friend's mind at ease. "I want to show you something." With that, she turned her back to Francine and lifted the back of her sweatshirt.

The frightened woman gasped, "Val, how…what…you…" as she stared at the whip marks.

"I auctioned myself at Mephisto's last night. And I had a wonderful time, as you can see."

"You're a sub?!"

"Yes, for about a week now."

"And you knew about me?"

"Actually, not until last night. Someone at the club let me know that you would be a good reference for a Dom that I'm checking out."

Francine began crying again. Val could tell that these were tears of relief, a relief that a secret could be shared safely. She sat down and hugged her friend, holding her as the last of the pain and fear were let go. Through the tears, Francine said, "I haven't been in a D/s relationship with someone I was close to since I realized that I was dominant instead of submissive. I've played, but with strangers and acquaintances in one night or one weekend stands."

"Is that where you were going on those weekend get-aways you were always taking?"

"Yeah. Mistress Francine off to play with another part-time slave. I was yearning for something more meaningful, a partner I loved that I could play with. Harv was sending all those subtle signals that hint at a submissive personality. He deferred to my wishes a lot, wouldn't oppose my choices for where to go on dates. I should have seen the clues that he was just trying to get me into bed."

"Don't you dare blame yourself!"

"Friday was good. We drove up, opened up the cabin and had a wonderful dinner cooked on an open fire. I decided to go all the way and we made love. It was when I didn't climax that I realized that I didn't really enjoy sex without the domination. I thought I could trust him, so I told him Saturday what kind of sex play I liked."

"You told him that you wanted to dominate him, maybe tie him up and force him to do what you wanted?"

"Actually, I started slower than that. I explained what D/s is about. The willing giving up of power to someone you trust. How it can be incredibly erotic and powerfully exciting. He seemed to get excited about the whole thing. He even said he would be willing to try it out. We started to get undressed. Then I told him that I was a Dominant and that I wanted him to be submissive. That's when he freaked."

"So, he just naturally assumed that you wanted to submit?" Val asked.

"I guess so. He stood up and started to yell at me. Foul things that I would never have expected from someone who loved me; whore, tramp, Nazi bitch. I tried to tell him that if it scared him too much, we didn't have to go there. That's when he hit me. It's like he went crazy. He kept hitting me over and over. I think I passed out.

"When I came to, I only had the bra and panties I was wearing when I passed out, and my coat. My purse and all my clothes were gone. The door had been bolted shut from the outside. I was terrified. He had obviously locked me in, helpless, for some reason. I managed to break the shutters in the bathroom and walked from the cabin to here. The rest you already know."

"Francine, we have to get you looked at. You might have a concussion. Those bruises are pretty bad and your feet need expert medical attention. Do you want to press charges against Harv?"

"No! I would have to explain why, or worse, he would. He could make it seem like I was threatening him, trying to make him an unwilling slave. I just want to write him out of my life."

"Okay. That means that we need to get you some clothes. If you show up at an urgent care clinic dressed like this, there will be police, a rape investigation, questions you don't want to deal with. I think I still have that outfit you lent me last year. You know, the white pants and blue blouse?"

"Yeah, I remember. You still have it."

Val got on her cell phone. "Hello, June? I'm sorry to bother you at home, but I'm having a bit of an emergency. No, I'm all right. It's about a friend. I need you to go to my apartment, you still have the key? Good. In my closet is a white pair of pants and a blue blouse. Can you bring those, as well as a change of under things, socks and my blue sneakers? I'm at Foster's Motel, the one off exit 23. Room 13. You have the kids this weekend? Tell you what; we're only five miles from Six Flags. Take them with you and you can all have an evening pass on me. Will that work? Fantastic. We'll be here. Bye. Thanks a billion."

"Well, we've got three hours too kill. What do you want to do?"

"Val, you've got to tell me about how you got into D/s. I would never have thought that you would be drawn to the lifestyle. And you auctioned yourself? After only a week? Spill the beans, girlfriend!"

For the next two and a half hours, Valerie told her best friend all that had happened in the last nine days. Her initial encounter with Charles Vanquil. The second night and her inexplicable agreement to do anything he asked. The fear and trepidation, excitement and confusion of that first true scene. Her week of trying to find out about the lifestyle and Charles. Her fortuitous encounter with Rachael and Giggy. Their willingness to talk openly about the lifestyle. Her decision to go on the auction block at Mephisto's and the way it made her feel to be sold and used so thoroughly. Finally, about Rachael getting two names, Francine's one of them, who could give an honest report on Charles.

"Francine, I really want to submit to Charles, but everyone says that I need to be sure he's trustworthy and safe before I commit to him. What do you know about Charles?"

"Valerie, my introduction to D/s was different than yours. I discovered it on the net. I found web sites that specialized in bondage pics and videos. They excited me in ways I couldn't explain at the time. I went looking for experiences. I wasn't very smart back then, just lucky. A couple of times, I even played with someone who did not believe in safe words. I had several scenes as a submissive in clubs, went to a few people's private dungeons and enjoyed it. That's how I met Charles. He was at the club and I was dressed in my sleaziest 'take me, I'm yours' sub outfit, and he did. He walked right up and ordered me to accompany him to a private room.

"He's a very good Dominant. He took me places I had never been before. He is almost religious about safe words. For months, we met in clubs and played. Eventually, he asked me to play at his house. I did. He was training a new live-in sub and had me dominate her a few times. I discovered that I enjoyed dominating vastly more than submitting. Few months later, I stopped submitting altogether and left Charles. He was willing to let some of his submissives dominate others, but to play with him, you had to submit to him. Don't get me wrong, we parted on good terms. We just stopped playing together. That was five years ago."

"So, do you think he would make a good Dominant for me?"

"I don't know enough about what you want in a Dominant to answer that. I can tell you that you will not find a safer Dominant, or a more demanding one. We all have limits, and he will push you to the ends of yours and beyond. If you're a true submissive, he will find that inner slave and nurture it until it blossoms into a gorgeous flower that all will look upon and envy."

"Wow. I guess I know where to go from here. Thank you so much for sharing this with me. If the opportunity presents itself, would you like to go to the club for the next auction?"

"Only if you don't mind me bidding on you."

Val blushed, "Submitting to a woman and pleasing her sexually is one of those things that I don't want to do, but would enjoy being forced to do. Know what I mean?"

"Oh yes! And I would love forcing you."

Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. The room did not have a peephole, So Valerie called through the door, "Who is it?"

"It's me, June. I have the things you wanted."

"Are you alone?"

"The kids are in the car."

Val opened the door and let June in. Her friend and secretary gasped at the sight of Francine. Answering the unspoken question, Val said, "Her boyfriend beat her up. We need it kept quiet."

"Of course, Valerie. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, we have it from here. I just didn't want to leave her alone. Here, use the company card and enjoy the evening with your kids. Don't skimp. I'll sort out the account tomorrow."

"See you in the morning, Valerie."

June left and Val relocked the door. She helped her friend get dressed. The shoes, even being two sizes too large were too painful to get onto Francine's feet. With her friend's help, Francine was able to make it to the car. Putting the seat back all the way enabled her to keep the pressure off the painfully thrashed soles of her feet.

On the drive back into town, Francine fell asleep. Valerie had time to think about the future. "I hope Harv is not stupid enough to pursue this thing any farther. Francine may not press charges, but I can and will ruin his life if he hurts my friend again." After several more minutes of rants against Harv and worrying about her friend, Val's thoughts turned towards herself and Charles. "I can't wait to call Charles and let him know that I want to go farther with him. I wonder if he knows about my sale last night. I wonder where he will take me next time. I want to go places that I can't even dream of. It's a little frightening. Some of the places he'll take me will undoubtedly be places I won't like. But it's so exciting to be able to let him take me where

he

thinks is best for me to go. God! I'm getting hot just thinking about it. I need to concentrate on Francine right now."

As she approached the emergency room, she woke Francine up. Inside, Val was able to stay with her friend through her treatment. Their refusal to talk about the attack left the hospital unable to effectively report it, much to Francine's relief. Given Rachael's story about the police treating anyone in the lifestyle as consenting to all violence, Valerie was inclined to agree with the decision. They had no assurance that the authorities were any more understanding than they were years ago when Rachael was raped. The doctors treated her injuries and released her with instructions to stay off her feet. They would need at least a week before they would be out of danger from infection. She was given IV antibiotics and painkillers as well as prescriptions for more of both.

Once the prescriptions were filled, she took Francine home with her and put her to bed. Living alone, Francine would be unable to take care of herself and obey the restrictions against walking. Fortunately the doctors had ruled out a concussion. She may have had a mild one earlier, but it had passed, if it happened at all. Once her friend was in bed, she slept, probably for the night; given the dose of hydrocodone she had been given. If Valerie had not been in good shape, she would not have been able to get her friend into and out of the wheelchair from the hospital. Val spent the rest of the night rearranging furniture so that Francine could reach all the important places in the apartment, kitchen, bathroom, clear path through the living room, bedroom. Moving her alarm to the living room, Val pulled out her hide-a-bed and went to sleep.

********

When her efficiently irritating alarm woke her in the morning, she checked on her friend. Francine was still asleep, apparently in the throes of a nightmare. Val sat on the bed and waited for her to wake up. It only took a few minutes before Francine bolted awake, screaming. Val held her as she sobbed.

"It was Harv. He came back, took me away and made me his slave. He beat me over and over again. It was horrible."

"It was a nightmare. He's not going to make you his slave. He doesn't have what it takes. I won't let him. You're safe. He doesn't know you're here and he can't get in through the security doors."

"I know. But I'm scared. I can't get him out of my mind. It's not like playing. All he wanted to do was hurt me. Damn it! I didn't consent!"