Chapter Eight
Crisis
The beeping of the alarm was like a demon, rousing both Valerie and Sally from the comfortable sleep they were ensconced in. Valerie extricated herself from the embrace that they had shared through the night. Padding to the bathroom, she showered and dressed, preparing for another day at work. She'd enjoyed the time off she had been given last week after successfully negotiating the tangle that was the Brad affair, but it did make it hard to go back.
She checked her email before she left and found no messages from Charles. Kissing the drowsy form of Sally, she left and drove to the office. She had a pleasant surprise in the lobby. Lilly was sitting next to Natalie at the front desk. She stopped long enough to congratulate her.
"Lilly, congratulations! How's the new job?"
"Oh, Ms. Burbon, it's really hard, there's so much to remember."
Natalie piped up, "She's going to do fantastic. Her memory's great and she's good with people. I may even be able to start my leave early, which this young one seems to want." She patted her distended belly, full with child.
"Lilly, do you still want to have that lunch thing today?"
"Yes, I do. I get off at 11:00 for lunch. Will that work for you?"
"Yes, and if it doesn't, I'll make it work. Got to go."
A couple of, "Byes," followed her to the elevators. Upstairs, June was in her usual place, a model of efficiency.
"Good morning, June. How was the trip to the museum?"
"It went well. We didn't lose anyone, though there were three forgotten lunches and two spilled thermoses."
"Well that sounds normal."
"That's what Marcia said. You have a couple things on your desk that need immediate attention."
"Thanks, June. Block me out for lunch at 11:00 today, I have a personal meeting."
"Will do."
Inside her office, Valerie saw that one was a follow up to the activities of last week. Legal needed statements from all the people involved in the investigation, notarized of course. The second was a request for a proposal from the Hopkins agency for a follow up series of ads. She started with the statement, typing it up herself and sending it to June for editing and final draft. The rest of the morning was spent putting the ideas that she had discussed last week with her counterpart at Hopkins into a draft proposal. When 11:00 was rolling near, she had not finished but was well on the way to something concrete.
She grabbed her purse and headed down to the lobby. When Natalie saw that she was there, she turned to Lilly and said, "You go on to lunch now. I can handle it until noon."
Saying her thanks, Lilly grabbed her own purse and ran out to meet Valerie.
"Lilly, I've got a lot to tell you if you're up to it," she said as they walked down the street. "You just be sure to stop me if it gets to be too much. Now, you like Chinese?"
"Yes, Ms. Burbon."
"Good. We'll hit Great Wall. And no trying to pay. I make much more than you and you are doing me a big favor by listening."
"Of course, Ms. Burbon." Lilly had to smile a little. Her boyfriend was the same way, so she was quite used to not being permitted to pay at meals.
Great Wall was typical of many downtown ethnic spots, decent food at okay prices with a selection of fast dishes at lunch for the professional on the move. They took a back corner table for privacy and Valerie told Lilly everything that had happened over the last week. Lilly was aghast at the fact that Valerie had asked to be punished to her safe word.
Having been told that during these talks, it was Valerie, not Ms. Burbon she was talking to, Lilly asked, "How could you do that? Isn't your safe word like the emergency cut-off valve or something?"
"That's an excellent analogy. I did it because I was so ashamed and guilty at my failure. When I agreed to become Master's submissive, I agreed to follow his commands. I failed in such a simple command that we both felt it was a severe failure. When you were a kid, which was worse, getting punished or waiting to get punished?"
"The waiting. Oh, I hated it when my mom would say 'Wait until your father gets home'."
"After the punishment, did you feel guilty anymore?"
"No. It was over and done with. I was forgiven."
"Exactly. I knew that I would be free of the guilt afterwards. But there was so much guilt that I wanted enough punishment to drive it all out."
"I think I see. Once, when I was a kid, my dad only found out about part of what I did wrong, and he punished me for it. But I still felt guilty. I ended up telling them the rest and was punished again."
Valerie continued, describing the various ways she was required to torture herself with orgasm denial, including masturbating in public. She was a little surprised to see Lilly smile at that description. "Public masturbation doesn't bother you?"
"Oh. No. My boyfriend and I will do it on the bus sometimes, playing with each other under people's noses. It's like they know what's happening without knowing."
"I'm not sure about the not knowing, but it is deliciously exciting."
"Yeah. Sometimes, my boyfriend will dare me to do something really outlandish."
"Like what?"
"Like last week. We went to a movie. He dared me to masturbate in the theater all the way to orgasm. I had to not scream when I came like I normally do. It was so intense." Her face beamed at the memory.
"You know, Lilly, that's a form of BDSM play."
"No! I mean we don't whip each other or force each other to do things we don't want to."
"I think I see what's happened. Lilly, BDSM is not just one thing. Not everyone in the lifestyle uses pain as a way to play. Some just like tying up each other. Even among the bondage-only people, there are wide varieties in how much. I did research before I signed on as Master's submissive. There are players who just dare each other to do things in public. I read about one woman who loved being an exhibitionist, but couldn't bring herself to show off publicly unless her boyfriend ordered her to do it. That's all they do, but it's still a part of the lifestyle. At Master's, we play a very intense version of the scene. There are others who go even farther than we do. There are those who have no safe words and accept everything, including permanent markings, like tattoos or brands."
"Brands! Like on cattle?"
"Kind of. Not as large, but still burns on the skin that mark you forever."
"I thought Mr. Charles and you were weird, but that's justβ¦"
"Wrong?"
Sheepishly, Lilly said, "Yeah. I guess."
"Lilly. Look at me. If you think what I'm doing in the lifestyle is wrong, that's okay. As long as you don't judge my character by that alone, it doesn't mean that I won't like you. It'll just be something that we disagree on. But look deep inside yourself. Do you really think it's wrong for me to engage in a form of play that hurts no one else and that I enjoy?"
Lilly was quiet for a few minutes. Valerie could see the same thoughts going through her mind as she herself had contemplated in the car with Charles. Food grew cold as she waited for the smart, honest girl to wrestle with herself. When she spoke, her answer was not a short one.
"I would really like to say yes, that it's wrong. I'm not sure I can say no, that it's right. I'm really confused. It seems soβ¦bad, that you should get beaten so bad that you sit on edge for days after. But when we sit here talking, I can see how happy you are, not just that it was done, but that you can share it with someone. Can it be wrong for you to be happy when no one else was hurt? I don't think so, but still, what's happening seems so horrific. Everything inside me says that hurting people is wrong."
"I can understand your confusion. I had a similar experience yesterday. Master had me dress up like a hooker and walk to a bar in the middle of where they do their thing. I was so humiliated. When Master asked me why, and he had a real hooker with him, I had to say that I thought hookers were evil and disgusting."
Lilly's face had gone cold. "Ms. Burbon. My mother was a hooker."
Valerie's face went pale. This is not what she had intended. "I'm sorry."
"About what, that I had a hooker mom?"
"No. I'm sorry that I was callous enough to judge your mom, and all the others so harshly when it wasn't fair or even correct. The prostitute with him made it quite plain that I was out of line, in the most outrageous fashion, that they, for the most part, had no choices they could see. I'm sorry, Lilly for the pain that my words have brought to you. It was not my intention."
"What did you mean to say?"