Author's note:
Welcome to the first chapter in a three-part series about a relationship between two young women that, while technically "consensual", is NOT emotionally healthy, affirming or positive. The story contains strong themes of domination and emotional manipulation. All characters are fictional adults. Please let me know how you like the story – comments and emails are welcome. And thank you for taking the time to read!
**
It was well after midnight when Elaine Gatineau heard a gentle knock at the door of her Country Cafe.
It was a frigid Thunder Bay night and the sub-zero temperatures had discouraged foot traffic for most of the day. Elaine figured the visitor was a taxi driver or police officer – who else would be out in the cold and dark at that hour, and at a coffee shop no less? Regardless, she'd closed almost an hour ago.
She finished wiping down the table she was at, then glanced out the glass doors to see who might be knocking.
It was Gwen.
Elaine felt a flurry of emotion: longing, heartache, hope, but mostly annoyance. The two of them had broken up a week ago – why would she come back now? Seeing her again was re-opening the pain of loss she'd felt when she made the decision to end it.
Well, she couldn't leave her ex- outside in the frozen darkness – their breakup had been amiable enough, so why make things hostile now? Elaine put down the dish cloth, tried to arrange her brown hair into some semblance of order, and unlocked the front door.
"I certainly wasn't expecting you," she said, sounding guarded and a little tired – it had been a long day.
"Hey, babe. Um...could we talk? I wanted to explain myself and ask for another chance."
Against her better judgment, Elaine stepped aside and allowed Gwen to enter, then closed and locked the door once again.
"Honestly, I don't know what else there is to say. We've been dating almost a year. If you're not ready to get serious by this point – if you can't make that kind of commitment – then I need to cut bait and find someone who wants to be with me for the long haul. I'm thirty years old – I don't have time to chase illusions."
"No! You're the one I want. Now and always. I'm totally serious about you...I love you!"
"But you won't invite me to your house. You won't stay the night at MY house. You're not interested in living together. I ask you if you need more time and all you say is "it's complicated". What am I supposed to think?"
Gwen sighed and her shoulders slumped. "You're right. I realized that this week – you're completely right. I've been a jerk. You're the one I love and I should be honest with you. So I've come here tonight to do that."
"Okay. I'm listening." Elaine wasn't ready to accept her words at face value, after almost a year of trying to wring the truth out of her.
"It's...a bit of a story. Could we sit down? I want to tell it right...and from the beginning."
Elaine gestured to a booth in the back and the two of them sat down.
"I'd offer you a drink but I've shut down the machines. Maybe some tea?"
"Tea would be awesome," Gwen said.
Ten minutes later, Elaine sat opposite her ex-girlfriend, each of them cradling a hot mug of Earl Grey.
"So?" Elaine prompted.
Gwen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Look, this is going to be hard, so just sit back and let me get this off my chest. I promise to tell you everything – the good, the bad and the ugly. After that, if you still don't want me, I'll leave and not bother you anymore."
"I'm all ears."
Gwen took a tiny sip of hot tea. "I guess the story begins in my final year of high school..."
*
Have you ever met someone who just brought out the worst in you?
For me, that person was Rebecca Maple. I met her at the start of my final year of high school. She'd transferred from some private school in the suburbs and was trying out for our senior volleyball team. I disliked her immediately.
If I'm being honest, she wasn't a bad person. She was the only child of a wealthy couple, but she didn't flaunt her money or put on airs around the rest of us. She had a cute face, and beautiful, black hair that fell to the middle of her back, but didn't seem vain about her looks. Becca didn't gossip, didn't flirt with the wrong guys, didn't get in anyone's face during practice. On the surface, she was a good teammate and student, but she and I were like oil and water.
Part of the problem was how blatantly she tried to kiss up to Rachel Hodges, the captain of the volleyball team and my chief athletic rival. I didn't resent Rach – she worked hard, had paid her dues, and won the captaincy fair and square. Still, we were rivals, and it grated on me to see Becca laughing too loud at Rach's jokes, agreeing too quickly with everything Rach said, and going out of her way to compliment how she looked or what she was wearing. It was beyond annoying. I mean, I get that Becca was new at the school and probably wanted to fast-track some friendships, but sucking up to the team captain was just gross and undignified.
To her credit, Rachel must have felt the same way, since she gave Becca a cool reception and kept her at arm's length without being openly rude. But Becca didn't take the hint and just kept putting herself out there, again and again. Talk about insecure and needy!
Things between us came to a head in mid-September after strength drills. We'd been doing chin-ups – never my best drill – and both Becca and Rachel had outdone me. I think my heavy breasts were part of the reason I lost – somehow, despite being tall and thin I ended up with this huge bust; it was the biggest on the volleyball team. They look damn good, I admit, but when you're hard into athletics, "big-breasted" maybe isn't the idea body type. Becca and Rachel were more 'streamlined', and Becca was practically flat-chested. No wonder she won!
Anyway, Rach was needling me about it – nothing mean, just garden-variety trash talk, when Becca decided to take a jab as well.
"Yeah...gangly girls have no upper body strength."
Gangly! Who even uses that word anymore? Plus, I was only two inches taller than Becca; it's not like I was all arms and legs.
I could tolerate Rachel's jawing – she and I had been on the team since grade nine and we'd traded shots for more than three years. But no way was I going to take shade from a fawning newbie yes-girl like Becca, especially with most of the team looking on! I rounded on her.
"Yeah? Care for a re-match?"
She shrank back a step, her eyes going wide as she realized she'd crossed a line, but she managed to compose herself after a quick glance at Rachel for reassurance.
"You'd just lose again."
"Want to bet on it?"
"Well...sure. How much?" she said.
I hesitated. I couldn't bet money. I was the fifth of seven kids in a blue-collar household. Money was one thing I didn't have. But that didn't mean I would back down.
"Not money. Let's play for REAL stakes. If you win, I'll be your slave for a week."
The other girls murmured and buzzed in excitement at the bold wager. I'd thrown down the gauntlet; there was no backing out now. I relished the look of trepidation on Becca's face.
"Wait...slave? What do you mean?"
"The loser does whatever the winner says for a whole week."
