part 3: Searching the Soul.
This is a work of fiction, none of the characters are intended to bear any resemblance to anyone living or dead. Any similarity is purely unintentional.
As Jennifer drove home on autopilot, she wrestled with what had happened. Jennifer had found her answer, the secret of the basement, yet she had more questions. What exactly did he have in mind for her? Did he really expect her to become submissive, and allow herself to be tied up and used again?
She got home just before three, and walked upstairs with his books stuffed into her oversized purse. Jennifer had become frugal in her expenses, in an effort to save money. So far in her adult life, nothing had worked out the way she hoped yet. Now this was taking an unexpected turn, and would probably make her even more jaded.
Jennifer considered, and decided to try and read one of the books, the last one, A Family Tradition of Bondage. Jennifer found herself hooked by the story before she had turned the fifth page. It was well written, and she could identify with the main characters. Bill had written this, Jennifer could see the similarities in style and language. He disguised it by placing the story in St. Louis, and using many local landmarks in the story, yet it was there, that subtle thing that identified an author.
Jennifer found that she had finished the book at four am, and felt suddenly hungry. She made eggs and hash browned potato's, and some toast. She ate the off schedule breakfast, and showered. She was bone tired, and fell into bed, asleep in minutes.
Jennifer woke at noon, feeling refreshed and troubled. The book had been an extremely erotic romance. Love and bondage were intertwined through the story. Worse, she had dreamed that Bill was doing those things to her, tormenting her, teasing her, and giving her those incredible orgasms. She could clearly remember one vision from her dream, where she was bound by him, and he was whipping her with nipple clamps bouncing at every strike of the whip. Jennifer felt her nipples contract as she remembered the image, and her sex started to warm up.
"No, I am not like that. I don't do bondage anymore." Jennifer declared aloud in the empty apartment.
She thought about the book instead. Thinking about the technical aspects, the parts that made it clear to her that Bill had written it. The main characters were likable enough, and the ending was kind of heart wrenching. The sex scenes though, they were incredible. Jennifer remembered the orgasms she had experienced while tied up, but the ones described, they blew away anything she had experienced before. It couldn't be true, there was no way that bondage sex was so intense that the orgasms were so powerful, so mind shattering.
Jennifer resolved to never admit that she had gotten hot from the books descriptions of the sex scene. The way that arousal had been identified and described had made her afraid that Bill must have seen how warm she was in the basement. That was a fluke, a reaction well outside the norm.
Jennifer looked at the autobiographical book Bill had gotten for her. Jennifer read the first chapter and set it down as though it might be possessed. It was way too extreme for her, it was way to extreme for anyone. There is no way any woman, anywhere, could happily refer to herself as a cum toilet. Jennifer searched the web and couldn't find where someone denounced it as a lie. She did find a site on the web that was operated by the people who purportedly lived what was in the book. There were pictures and a web cast, Jennifer almost downloaded one of the audio files and then decided she didn't need to. It might be true, sort of, but no way could all of it be true.
"I have got to get out of here for a while." Jennifer said to the empty and now suddenly claustrophobic apartment.
*****
Dressing quickly, Jennifer grabbed a few things and shoved them into a bag, a vacation Bill had said, fine, she was going on vacation.
She left the books behind, not wanting them with her, afraid of the effect they were having on her. She tossed her bag into the backseat of her Nissan. She left Statesboro and headed west on I-16, headed for Macon and her best friend Beth.
Beth had been a friend in High School, and had been wonderful after Jeremy had betrayed her. Beth had gotten married and was raising two kids and a dog in a small house in a neighborhood full of nearly identical houses in Macon. Beth was a stable, centered, and reasonable person. If anyone could help clear this shit from her mind, Beth could.
She called Beth to make sure a visit would be welcome as she drove west on I-16.
The question of what happens if Beth doesn't tell you it's crazy to even consider this didn't enter Jennifer's mind as she drove west.
Jennifer visited with the family, and played with the kids for a while, just enjoying getting away from everything for now. After dinner Larry and the kids were watching a TV program while Beth and Jennifer walked to the neighborhood park filling Beth in on the latest Jennifer life crisis.
After filling Beth in on the details, Jennifer asked the question. "So what do I do Beth? How can he possibly expect me to do something like this?"
"You can't jump into something for the rest of your life, ask him if he'll do it for a week or two, better yet, give it a month." Beth said.
"A Month? Wait a minute, why would I want to do anything like this for a month?" Jennifer asked.
Beth stopped and looked at her astounded. "Jennifer, you don't get it do you?"
"Get what? That he wants me to be his little fuck slave?" Jennifer asked with some anger in her voice.
Beth looked at her with a confused expression on her face. "Jen, two weeks ago on the phone with me you said you would do anything to have him. Now you know, you know what anything is, and the question is are you willing to do anything? Especially something you like.
Jennifer said, "I don't like it." She said it too fast, and both women knew it.
"Jen, the only way you can have him is on his terms. Also I remember something you told me about the night with Jeremy. You said he ruined something you really enjoyed, and when I asked what, you said you loved being tied up and helpless. You said it was incredible that you could feel that good being helpless."
"He ruined it for me, I can't do it again." Jennifer said quietly.
Beth started walking slowly again and said "Jen, that's up to you. It's time to start living again. For six years I've watched you go through the motions, but you haven't been alive inside. You locked yourself away after that night, you date, until they get close, and then you run from them. You ran from Valdosta to Savannah, ran from college, and now your want to run from Bill because he demands you give him everything."
Jennifer said "Wait a minute, your telling me to do it?"
Beth said "Jennifer, do you really love him?"
"Yes, I do Beth, you know I do."
"Jen, he told you he loved you, and he wants your entire heart, not just whatever you feel safe giving him. So do you believe he loves you?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Can you walk away, because you know if you say no, you can't stay and just work for him. That's why he gave you the recommendation letters. He knows it too, if you say no, you can't go back. Can you walk away Jen?" Beth asked her.
"I don't know, Beth I just don't know." Jen answered after walking a few paces in thought. "I thought you would tell me to be safe and not to do this. I didn't expect you to tell me to jump into deep end of the pool of insanity."
"I can tell you that Jen, I thought you wanted my honest opinion for a friend I dearly love, but I can tell you don't do it under any circumstances, stay in your shell and stay safe." Beth answered her.
"No, I really do value your opinion Beth, it's why I came here. You know that."
"I know, I just wondered if you knew." Beth said with obvious affection.
"So its do this or I have to quit my job, and leave him. Beth, I love him. My heart aches when he goes on book tours or off on one of his weekends." Jennifer said. "I have trouble breathing when he stands next to me." Jennifer felt despair welling inside her. The thought of leaving him, of never seeing him again was causing her unbearable pain.
"Jen, I've been waiting for you since Jeremy raped you, and make no mistake, it was a rape. When you said no, and he didn't stop, that makes it a rape. Before that, you would smile automatically, you would have a gleam in your eye that made me envy you. You used to live life, now you just exist. Maybe this is what is missing, your willingness to trust another man, to be with a man."
"I've been with guys since Jeremy." Jennifer said defensively.
"Yeah, you have, and then dumped them before they could get close to your heart Jen."
"It's not that easy Beth. Letting yourself go, being bound is something completely different. Your helpless, and I used to think that was kinky and fun, but now it's scary."
"Jen, how many fantasies have you had about Bill?"
Jen stopped and looked at Beth. "Shit, that dream I e-mailed you about. I forgot about that."
"That's right, which is why I can't understand your reluctance. You did dream all of this didn't you?" Beth asked.
"Well, not all this, but yeah, I had one dream where I was bound by him." Jennifer said trying to minimize it. She had intentionally left out the effects the books had on her, and her intensely erotic dreams that had resulted in a frustrated feeling of arousal.
Beth could see her friend wasn't convinced, but was at a loss what to say now, there was one thing she could say, but that wasn't something she was ready to talk about, and Jennifer obviously wasn't ready to hear.
Jennifer walked home with Beth and spent the night there with her friend. In the morning, she said her goodbye's and headed home.
As Jennifer turned at the end of the street, Beth dialed a phone number that reached a house in Valdosta, the house Jennifer had grown up in. Carol answered, as Beth had expected.
*****
Arriving in Statesboro, she decided to see if Bill was home. If he was, perhaps they could talk about this. Perhaps there was an alternative after all. Beth didn't have to be right, perhaps Bill had relented on his requirements of this submission nonsense.