Pt. 12

A soft knock came at Ingrid's door and she knew immediately it was Emma. It was now a few weeks into the friends' D&D campaign and Ingrid wanted to know how things were going for her players individually.

Ingrid had another reason for inviting Emma over to her apartment a couple of hours before the rest of the gang this week, but they would get to that in due time.

Skipping to the door, suddenly silly and awkward the way she always felt around others, even close friends, Ingrid opened to find her friend standing there. As usual, Emma was casually gorgeous, wearing a denim jacket open over a black sports bra and yoga pants.

"Emma!" Ingrid cried as the two friends embraced. "You look amazing."

"So do you," Emma replied, "especially in this apartment. It suits you perfectly. Like you were made to live here."

"Aw, that's the nicest thing to say!"

Emma kicked off her white all-stars and allowed Ingrid to lead her to the small kitchen table where two cans of cold, hard seltzer awaited them.

"Normally, I would have made something for us," Ingrid apologized as the two friends sat. "But I know you don't like to eat before you do rope."

Emma smiled. "You're a thoughtful friend and gracious host, Ingrid."

Ingrid flashed a wide smile, trying her best to accept the compliment, something that still made her uncomfortable. She still didn't know why compliments made her feel queasy. She filed that away for future meditation. Then, bringing her full attention back to the present, her cheery smile faded to a more neutral, open expression.

"How are you doing?"

Emma seemed caught off guard by the sincerity of the ask. After a moment of reflection, she replied, "Ok, I think. Yeah, I'm doing well." Ingrid nodded along. "At least, I feel good in this moment. I mean, we're all complex humans and we have strong social incentives to just smile and say we're fine. But in this moment I think I can honestly say 'yes' to that question."

Ingrid smiled again. This time, her lips barely moved but the smile touched her eyes far more than before. Noticing her friend's expression become contemplative, she asked, "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that your question made me realize I can't fully know how someone else is truly doing, regardless of what they say when I ask." Ingrid waited patiently for Emma to continue. "I mean, if

I

can't know for sure how I'm doing, I can't reasonably expect someone else to know how

they

are doing, much less expect them to entrust me with that information. We ask so flippantly, you know. 'How are you doing?' It's just a pleasantry, most of the time." Ingrid nodded. "Not the way you asked just now, of course," Emma hastened to add.

A silence descended. Then Emma asked, "How are you doing, Ingrid?"

Ingrid sighed. "Oh, I suppose it's a mixed bag. Really well in some ways. In other areas, there are things I still don't understand about myself, things I wish were different or going better."

"Do you feel like sharing more? I'd love to listen."

Ingrid pondered this offer a moment, then said, with a wry smile, "Maybe another time. When we have more time for it."

"Of course. Let's put a pin in it, then. But Ingrid, I want you to know that I really do want to hear what you're thinking and feeling. The long version."

Ingrid smiled broadly again, the one that stretched from ear to ear but didn't make it to her eyes as much. Suddenly, she felt awkward and shy again. She felt far more comfortable asking her friends how they were doing than the reverse. "Thanks, Emma," she said quietly.

"But we're here to talk about you!" Ingrid announced assertively, eager to flip the script. "I want to know how the campaign is going so far."

"Ok, ok!" Emma acquiesced. "But don't think I'm going to forget," and she literally wagged her finger at her goth friend.

"Fine," Ingrid agreed. "Now tell me what you think of the campaign. The truth, please."

"The truth?" Emma began. "It's been incredible. Honestly. I love how our choices in the game are higher stakes because they affect what can happen to us in real life."

"And the kinky stuff that's happened in-game," Ingrid asked, "has that been ok? How do you feel about what has happened to Kit'seneth?"

"How do I feel about what's happened to Kit? Dear goddess, I love it. Honestly, I've always dreamed of my D&D character getting captured and having to be rescued by everyone."

"Oh yeah?"

"Dear goddess, yes! You know I'm kinky as fuck and love rope bondage. I also dearly love fantasy novels and tabletop RPGs. Since we started playing D&D together a few years ago, I've secretly fantasized about my characters being captured."

"Aw, really? I'm glad you've gotten to play those fantasies out. I of course knew how kinky you were in real life, but didn't know this extended to fantasy worlds." Ingrid paused and took a sip of her seltzer. "Beyond being captured, are you ok with what's happened to Kit? Forgive me if I come across as prying, but I'm just trying to really make sure everything we're doing as a group has been on the level."

"You mean being stripped and humiliated?" Emma's voice was nonchalant, as if it were nothing. Both friends burst out laughing.

"Yeah. And being displayed as a sexy conquest for friends and strangers alike to ogle; and having her ass smacked by her friends."

"Oh yeah," Emma said. "That, too."

"And getting finger fucked simultaneously in her ass and pussy by a secret admirer. How did you feel about that?"

"How did I feel about it? Like it was fucking hot. That whole scene with Jessica was

deliriously

hot."

"Do tell me more."

Emma blushed hard. "Well, Kit's wrestling with what I wrestled with for a while."

"Really? I'd love to hear more. But if you don't want to share, that's ok, too."

"No, it's fine. This was really hard for me at the time, but I've worked through it. You see, I didn't always accept my submissiveness."

"No? But you wear it so confidently."

"I do now. For a long time I was ashamed of it. I thought it wasn't

feminist

enough. I thought it meant I was a weak woman, the kind of woman the patriarchy tells us we are. It made me sad, and angry. I wanted so much to prove everyone wrong. I wanted to prove

myself

wrong."

"That sounds super painful," Ingrid said in sympathy. "What did you want to prove?"

"That I was a strong, independent woman who didn't want or need anyone to dominate me."

"Ouch. I can feel that. I think I have my own inner feminist that dearly wants that, too."

"But your kinky interests allow you to demonstrate that, to feel powerful," Emma replied, a plaintive note in her voice. "When you're in the middle of an impact scene, flogging someone's helpless, naked body, you look so

badass!

It's different for me."

Ingrid nodded, an empathetic expression on her face. "That's true. I never considered it that way before."

Emma sighed deeply. "Clearly, the frustration is still there if I go looking for it," she said, and chuckled wryly. "But a few years back I worked through all of this. I realized that being submissive in a consensual way isn't weakness. It's actually an expression of agency and strength. I realized that when

I

choose to submit to someone--not because they're making me, but because I

love it

and want it--I'm expressing my inner self, not bending to someone else's demands of me."

There was a short pause where Ingrid simply let her friend's words linger in the air. "That's really beautiful, Em," she said finally. "And deeply true. As someone who leans toward the dominant side of the spectrum, I can say that from experience. When someone freely and consensually submits to me, it's courage and freedom I sense in that act."

Emma smiled shyly. "Yeah, well I didn't come to it on my own. Yuna helped a lot."

"Oh yeah?"

Emma nodded vigorously. "I was kind of a mess when we first met. I wanted to be tied up and dominated so badly. But I couldn't accept my desires. I thought they were a 'problem' I needed to solve, a base impulse I had to repress and conquer, in order to be a strong woman."

"Much like Kit."

"Exactly. Yuna recognized that conflict going on inside me, being the wise young witch she is, and helped guide me through it. Helped me see how brave it is to embrace myself exactly the way I am."

Ingrid's expression melted into a sappy smile. "That's the sweetest story!" Emma, suddenly bashful, blushed and looked away.

"So you don't mind what's been happening to Kit."

"Oh, quite the contrary. That all feels super hot and very consensual."

"What about the real-life component of our campaign? A lot has happened to you at the table. How have you experienced that, and is there anything we need to change going forward?"

Emma thought about it for a while. "Honestly, I've loved it. I think I was a little bit scared at first, but that went away pretty quickly."

"Oh, really? Is it ok if you tell me more about that?"

"For sure. I think at first it was a fear that, while I loved what was happening, others might not appreciate it as much. You know, it's one thing for me to be part of a scene at the table, but it's another for the rest of the players to be a part of it, too--not only by being physically present in the room, but also by being a part of the role-play. I guess I worried others might not be into it. Or worse, they might be made uncomfortable by it. That was my fear."

"Well, you're being pretty wise about it, Em," Ingrid said. "I thought you'd begin by talking about the level of your own feelings. But you got to the next level right away. And I mean that as a compliment."

Emma smiled shyly, trying her best to deflect the compliment with grace.

"But in all seriousness, I do want to check in more deeply about your experience, as well. I can get back to you about how everyone else feels once I've had the opportunity to sit down with everyone one-on-one like this. Right now, though, how has

your

experience been?"

Emma hesitated, perhaps more comfortable discussing and taking others' feelings into account rather than her own. Hoping to prime the pump and give her friend more time, Ingrid elaborated on her ask a bit more.

"After all, it's one thing to do a kink scene in private. That's plenty brave and scary and vulnerable. It's another thing to do a kink scene at a kink party, with lots of other people around doing equally kinky shit. I think it's altogether another experience entirely to do a kink scene in parallel with a character you're role-playing, and in an intimate setting like a table of friends playing D&D. You were the only one doing a scene most of the time. That meant lots of eyes on you."

A pause ensued as Emma reflected, but this time Ingrid gave her friend space and let the silence continue as long as Emma needed.

"It did feel different, I think," Emma began at last, "being so exposed and vulnerable around my friends like that. And in such close quarters and for such an extended period of time." Ingrid nodded along. "The levity helped," Emma said with a laugh. "Yuna's a tease, and so is Silus. I think that really helped break the ice. Otherwise, it could have been really awkward, just being tied up like that with my tits out in front of my friends while playing D&D."

"Hahaha! Oh, that image is delicious.

Super

awkward!"

"Yeah, right? I also think the D&D context really helped, too. I mean, normally a kink scene is about sexual excitement and pleasure, whatever that means for the participants. And my scenes in our campaign were about that, too, to some degree. But it was also something that was imposed on me by the game, so the context was totally different. I think that allowed us all to enjoy it more. It also made it really hot and exciting for me, since I didn't have full control over when or how it would start or stop."

"Mmhmm. I love that about what we're doing. It allows us to practice and explore kink in such new environments and circumstances."

For a moment, both women simply nodded together in silence, smiling and enjoying the truth of what Ingrid had just said.

"So, to summarize, nothing you've done so far involving your own kink scenes has been uncomfortable or felt over the line?"

Emma shook her head.

"How about the time I tied you up on your knees, pushed your face down against the rug, and fucked your ass with a dildo?"

There was a short, shocked pause. "Well, when you put it like

that

...'' Then Emma burst out laughing, and Ingrid swiftly followed suit. The laughter went on and on; each time it seemed to subside, the two would look at each other and it would erupt once again.

"In all seriousness, though," Ingrid managed after pulling herself together. She wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. "Have you ever been fucked in the ass in front of a group of acquaintances like that before?"

"Umm, no! What kind of harlot do you take me for?!" A pregnant pause lasted maybe two seconds, before Ingrid snorted and Emma cracked up again.

"But in all seriousness," Emma finally concluded, "that was super fucking hot. It did feel

super

vulnerable. I mean, I knew there was a chance you might actually fuck me, but I didn't know you were going to go straight in my asshole."

Ingrid shrugged as if to say, "You gave me permission."

"I loved it, though. And I felt it was really important for Kit's character growth to finally open up to someone like that."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Ingrid said. "I certainly did. You're fun to fuck, and I'd definitely be down to do it again in the future--at the D&D table and otherwise." Ingrid looked away from Emma as she said this last sentence, and Emma felt Ingrid might have practiced it beforehand, for fear of not having the courage to say it otherwise.

"Umm, insight check?"

Ingrid looked back at Emma with surprise, unsure how to respond.

"Just kidding! You silly. Your sincerity is written all over your face, and I love you for it." Ingrid bashfully studied the table. "I would also love to get fucked by you again, Ingrid. During D&D or, as you put it,

otherwise

."

"Ok, we're changing the subject now," Ingrid blurted out, sounding painfully shy. "Can I ask you about you and Yuna?"

Now Emma looked taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry," Ingrid apologized. "That was really abrupt. I'm socially inept, you should know. I can't help it. I just meant what you two are like away from kink and all that. We're done with the D&D check-in, by the way. This is just me being a curious friend. Maybe a nosy one."

"Haha! Not at all. You're fine. I appreciate your curiosity and caring. What are we like away from kink? Hmm." Emma looked up at the ceiling as if recalling memories. "Ironically, I take charge a lot, though in subtle ways. I steer our social life more than she probably even knows. Most of the friends we hang out with she met through me. I schedule most of our formal outings."

"Who pays when you go out?" Ingrid asked, a naughty undertone to her voice.

"We're on a strict rotation of who pays," Emma asserted in a tone that clearly indicated this was a hard fought battle that

she

had won. "Submissiveness should never be confused with gold digging," she declared.

Ingrid smiled. "That's so interesting. Kink doesn't dictate our entire relationships, does it? Even ones that were first discovered through kink and that thrive on its energy. Do you think this insistence of yours stems from your earlier feminist misgivings about dominance and submission?"

"Oh, certainly. But I'm grateful for that. It's allowed me to hold space for myself to grow and flourish in many different directions in life at the same time. I've seen people who let their kinky identity and desires overwhelm almost every aspect of their lives. Not that that's inherently wrong or anything," Emma hastened to clarify. "It just doesn't feel very healthy to me. In any case, healthy or not, it's not what I want for myself. I want to be a well-rounded individual. I think one condition of letting myself surrender to my desires was that I allow myself to be more than just that."

"More than just a submissive, you mean?" Ingrid asked.

"Yes, exactly."

"And when you're watching a movie together, just the two of you, are you sitting on the couch side-by-side, sharing popcorn like a vanilla couple?"

"Now you

are

prying," Emma retorted, mimicking Ingrid's earlier naughty tone.

"Hah! So I am. I'm sorry. You don't have to answer any more of my questions. Romance is just something I'm still trying to figure out. I feel like part of my motherboard is fried. Or was never installed in the first place." Ingrid's carefully cheerful exterior started to crumble a little as she said this.

Emma's expression softened. "I don't mind at all! I was just teasing. But yeah, we often do that--no dominant or submissive partner, just a regular couple."

"Insight check!"

Emma managed to keep a straight face for a few moments, then melted into laughs. "You got me. We're kinky sometimes, too. Sometimes when Yuna's feeling bossy she'll tie me up first and make me watch the show with her bound and gagged. Or she'll blindfold me and make me be her footrest while

she

watches. Or... other things."

Ingrid smiled conspiratorially. "I can only imagine. And Yuna's really ok if we do stuff from time to time?"

"Yeah, she really is," Emma confirmed. "I think she's secretly glad that she isn't responsible for all my sexual needs. I think lots of dominants feel their responsibility heavily, and it's a relief to know that I feel I have other outlets than just her."

"I can definitely resonate with that sentiment," Ingrid concurred, nodding her head.

Another silence ensued, which Ingrid finally broke.

"Ok, good talk."

"Yeah, yeah," Emma agreed, imitating Ingrid's awkwardness. "Good talk. Glad we had the chance to sit down together and, you know, talk."

Ingrid snorted. "Don't laugh at me! Social anxiety and awkwardness are real afflictions!"

Emma smiled back warmly, letting her friend know she knew.

"Alright! Talk's over. It's time to move on to the other reason you're here early."

"Oh?" Emma asked, feigning innocence.

"Indeed. Take off all your clothes."

***********************

"This way, please," Ingrid said as Silus stepped into her apartment. Her arm simultaneously gestured into Ingrid's bedroom and blocked the hallway to the living room, prompting an inquisitive look from the curly haired Adonis.

"All will be made clear, I promise," Ingrid replied to Silus' silent question, whereupon he shrugged and stepped into his host's room. This was a new experience altogether. Ingrid very rarely invited anyone into her room, and it felt almost like holy ground as he entered. He was secretly glad he had remembered to take off his shoes at the door.

Inside the room, already seated on the bed and in Ingrid's desk chair, were Yuna, Sebastian, and Reya. Yuna wore the short shorts and light frilly blouse that was her summer uniform, while Sebastian was dressed in his customary black skinny jeans and beautifully embroidered white button up shirt. Silus noted a black leather collar with small chrome studds around his neck. Next to him on the bed was Reya, her wild, frizzy dark hair grazing her bare shoulders. Her white tank top and beige capris complemented her milk chocolate skin beautifully, Silus thought. Her arm lay draped across Sebastian's shoulders in a manner that was protective but also authoritative and congenial all at once, somehow.

"Alright, we're all here!" Ingrid announced, drawing everyone's attention.