The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.
It is also a long story. If you don't like longer stories or are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to skip this one.
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"Liz?" asked Alice from the bedroom.
"Yes?" Liz was crashed out on the sofa watching the news.
"Where's my collar? The good one?"
"It's on the kitchen counter. I was oiling it."
Just a month earlier, this might have been an unusual conversation for Alice to be part of. But then Liz had introduced her to a world of sex that she had never imagined. It was a world of leather, chains, dominance and submission. But it was a world that had helped Alice in a number of ways. Despite spending most of their sexual 'sessions' crawling around, obeying commands or being tied up in some way, Alice felt safe. She cared for Liz and Liz cared back. It might have been a more elaborate erotic game than other people played, but Alice never felt like the 'inferior' member of the relationship. And not having to worry about how she was going to keep her girlfriend pleased, since Liz would make SURE that Alice pleased her, allowed Alice to concentrate on other things. She was actually having an easier time with her class work and her songwriting than she had ever had before. So she found herself packing up a change of clothes, a wide leather collar, a couple pairs of restraints and her toothbrush for the outing that she and Liz were going on.
The outing was to a conference quaintly called "Obedience School." It was a weekend retreat for people who participated in dominant/submissive relationships. Liz had a friend who was able to get them reservations at the last minute. And rather than being a big orgy or festival of debauchery, the event was actually quite professional. Most of the time. There was an introductory dinner where everyone showed up as themselves, not as a mistress or master or slave or whatever. On the first night, everyone was equal. There was a series of sessions on Saturday morning for submissives only, where they met in groups with speakers who would describe the variety of options that lifestyle offered. There was a very reputable psychologist who was going to be talking about why some people liked to be chained up, or whatever their pleasure was, and there was also a time where the submissives would be allowed to mingle and discuss their own relationships. In the afternoon, things got a little kinkier as the slaves "reported for duty," as it were. They would be on their best behavior for the remainder of the evening, and they would all be checking out Sunday morning. Alice was nervous, but no more so than if she was going to be giving a class presentation. She had adjusted better than she, or Liz, every thought she would. And while Liz might be in control during sex, Alice found that she could get her own way most of the rest of the time, so it all evened out.
Alice picked the collar up. "Do you think it's dry enough to pack?"
"Should be, but wrap it up in one of the dish towels just in case, and we'll air it out a bit when we get there."
"Why did you have to oil it today anyway?" Alice asked.
"I forgot to yesterday. I just wanted it to look nice. Besides, you've been sweating in it a lot, and that dries up the leather."
Alice grinned at the "sweating" comment and gave Liz a quick kiss on the forehead, and then the taller girl drew Alice down for a slightly longer kiss on the lips. Then Alice looked disapprovingly at Liz's feet, which were resting on the nice oak coffee table her grandfather had given her. "Feet off the furniture. It's hard to find real wood furniture these days, and you don't want to scuff it," she said as she wandered back into the bedroom to finish packing.
Liz shot the retreating girl a dirty look, picked her feet up and started to spin so she could just lie down on the couch.
"And don't even THINK about putting those dusty boots on the couch," came Alice's voice from the back.
Liz grumbled something about it being her apartment and she should be able to put her damn feet up anywhere she wanted. But she put her feet back on the floor.
"Actually," came Alice's voice again, "could you call Heather and tell her we're getting ready to leave?"
Liz grumbled again but picked up the phone. Heather wasn't apparently at the dorm, so Liz left a message giving their departure time. She then complained to Heather's answering machine that she wasn't allowed to put her feet up on her own furniture. At that moment Alice came out and grinned as her girlfriend bitched about a 'slave' in her own home.
"C'mon and hang up," Alice requested. "It's time to get going. It'll be good to have a nice, normal weekend away from college." Alice stopped and appeared to be pondering something. "Did we pack my leash?"
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That evening . . .
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Alice wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but she still managed to be surprised. When they had arrived, there were hundreds and hundreds of people who looked . . . well, normal. There were a few couples where the relationships had apparently become so extreme that it was easy to determine who was dominant and who was submissive. But for the most part, Alice couldn't tell. There were people of different ages, backgrounds, racial types and builds. Despite claiming to not be nervous, Alice was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. She was rubbernecking while Liz was checking them in when the older girl was approached by a couple who seemed to know her.
"Liz!" said a large black man. He was a handsome fellow (if you're into guys) in his late thirties with a bald head and an athletic build. A white woman accompanied him, also in her thirties with bleach-blonde hair and a generous figure who was maybe five feet six inches tall. She had put on a pound or two and her breasts might have lost some of their twenty-something perk, but she could still turn some heads. Her long hair was up in a bun and she was wearing librarian glasses and a gray business suit, and she was wearing an infectious smile.
"Dirk," Liz responding, turning and giving the man a big, back-slapping hug. She glanced behind him, saw the other woman and immediately released the big man and went to hug the newcomer. "Marcy," she said with a friendly, but much less manly, hug. "You guys just get in?"
"No," said Dirk. "Our stuff's already up in our room. I got them to put you across the hall from us." His voice was heavy and kind of sexy, even to Alice. "I'm glad you were able to make it. So who's . . ."
Liz cut him off. "Dirk, Marcy, this is Alice. Alice, these are the friends I was telling you about that helped get us reservations."
Alice was staring at her feet, but glanced up shyly. "Hi."
"Oh, she's precious," said Marcy, who bypassed etiquette and gave the young girl a warm hug and kissed her on the cheek. Alice already liked this lady. "So, you're the young woman who caught our Liz's eye. Good for you."
Liz was smiling ear to ear. "Dirk and I worked together for the last couple of years. He's going to be transferring to the new plant when it gets built, so he'll be my boss for a bit once I get my Masters degree."
"Nice to meet you," said Alice.
"Marcy here," continued Liz, "is a bank manager. She helped me finance the loan for my Harley." Liz wrapped her arm around Alice's shoulders. "So, you two wanna join us for dinner?"
"Mistress Jasmine is having a banquet this year. Actually, I've got us all at the same table. Why don't you go put your stuff in your room? Dinner is being held in the Sierra Room, so we'll meet you there."
Hugs were exchanged and then Liz and Alice carried their bags up to their room. Alice was impressed with their accommodations, flopping unceremoniously onto the bed. She had to get up quickly though so she could get ready for dinner. She put on one of her nicer sundresses, washed her face and hands and brushed out her hair. When she came out of the bathroom, Liz was just sitting in one of the chairs.