A Sizzling Summer by The Bay - Part Nine
Need To Catch Up...
A Sizzling Summer by The Bay - Part Nine
June 2016 – San Francisco, California
Iona had given Estelle a stack of four books. They had called it an early evening after having dinner at a quaint little Chinese food restaurant. They both knew Monday morning would approach all too early, and Estelle had told Iona she liked to get into bed early.
While that had been true, she also felt excited to settle into bed and thumb through the books. She hastily went through her nighttime routine of brushing her teeth, setting out her work clothes for the following day, and stocking up her work satchel with amenities. She settled into bed with a cup of lavender honey tea and picked up the first book from the stack.
The books had that feel about them – old books – each with a unique personality. Only a bibliophile, such as herself, could appreciate. She could tell just by the brittle, yellowed pages, the dog-eared corners, the musty scent, and personalized inscriptions in the front, that these were care-worn from well-loved use. She sensed they were precious to Iona when she had placed the stack in her hands. She felt honored that Iona had entrusted them to her.
Estelle had a wave of excitement flit through her, much in that way a child might opening their season-long awaited Christmas gift under the tree. She flipped through the pages slowly – reverently. As she skimmed them, she realized that E.L. James had indeed missed a lot in her fictional books.
There were protocols and practices. Many levels and roles. Not just Dom and sub, but Tops and bottoms, Daddy’s and littles. All of the books except one were written circa 1990. Iona had warned her that the power exchange focused on the traditional heterosexual arrangement, but the practices were interchangeable no matter one’s sexual orientation. In other words, “Take it with a grain of salt,” Iona had said.
Then she reached a part of the book, that at first appalled her. She felt herself cringe as she read the chapter title: Master/slave Protocols. Being half African American, she was shocked that Master/slave even existed!
Is Iona okay with this? Estelle mumbled to herself out loud.
She delved into reading this first and quickly realized that the dynamic was nothing like the conventional meanings and energies attached within the vanilla world.
Vanilla was a term Iona had casually begun to use, and had explained its meaning, as they briefly chatted about BDSM over won ton soup and egg rolls earlier that evening.
The community perceived that subs or slaves held much of the power and the individual taking on such a role, and handing their power over to their Dom/Domme/Master/Mistress, was a gift of the highest trust. It was to be treasured and not taken lightly. Slaves and subs were not to be abused, and if they were, most BDSM communities would often black-list and ostracize those who did.
This was all so fascinating! Before Estelle realized it, several hours had passed. She looked at the time on her phone and groaned. Ugh, five a.m. was going to come awfully early, and at this rate, she would be lucky if she caught even a few hours of sleep. Reluctantly she closed the books. Set them reverently on the bedside table, and made meager attempts to go to sleep.
Her mind was whirling with so many questions. She hoped that she’d catch a moment with Iona tomorrow to ask her.
Five a.m. did arrive all too early, and she pulled herself from bed, feeling tired and grumpy. She didn’t want to go to work. She wanted to stay under the warmth of her down comforter and continue reading every last page of these books.
The workday was so busy that Estelle didn’t have much room to think about the books. She’d shot Iona a quick message asking if she wanted to do lunch together. Iona was game.
However, that didn’t pan out. Quinn needed them during a last-minute meeting. Iona got tied up with Quinn even further on a new account, so Estelle had to wait.
After work, Estelle cornered Iona.
“Do you want to come over to my place? I can’t lie. I’ve been chomping at the bit to ask you so many things.”
“Sure, let me grab my things. I’ll meet you there?”
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll pick up dinner. How’s Filipino cuisine again?”
“Definitely there!” Iona grinned. “Please order more of those skinny little eggrolls. Lumpy’something.”
“Lumpia – and I planned on it. See ya soon.”
Estelle called in the order for the food and headed home to tidy up her place a bit before Iona arrived. Iona knocked on the door only moments after Estelle had set out plates, forks, and napkins on her coffee table. They settled onto Estelle’s couch and vented about work-related drama for a bit.
She had waited all day with anxious impatience to corner Iona. Now that they were face to face, she felt embarrassed. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want to appear too eager.
After a lull in the conversation, much to Estelle’s relief, Iona brought up the topic. “So, did you get a chance to look at the books?”
Estelle had to refrain from rolling her eyes. “I was up far too late last night reading! I couldn’t put them down. Oh my God, I have so many questions. I should have written them down.”
“You should have.”
“I didn’t think of it until just now. I’ll do that. Is there any way I can get a copy of these books? I suspect they might be out of print.”
“There’s a website that’s all about selling out of print books. Can’t remember its name offhand, but I’ll look it up. See what I can find for you,” Iona said. “So, what questions can you remember?”
“I feel sort of embarrassed asking this, but how do I know if I’m a dominant personality, a sub, or a switch? I don’t think I quite understand how to tell which I might be. I’ve got more reading to do, but it kind of feels as though people sort of having an inclination. I’m not really sure, so how do I figure this out?”
Iona smiled gently, “No, it’s a perfectly valid question. Don’t feel ashamed of what you don’t know. To be perfectly honest, I think most people I’ve known enter the community feeling just as lost. You just kinda pick a place and start. What sounds interesting? What appeals to you most when you’re reading?”
“All of it sounds interesting. I have no idea where to start.”
Iona laughed. “Well, we can do a Scene if you like. Tonight we can chat about your limits and boundaries, then tomorrow we can meet back at my place. I can sort of ease you into it. And if you get sexually aroused, I think I know how to take care of that as well.” Iona winked.
“Sounds great. So, how do I know what my limits are?” Estelle asked. She felt incredibly insecure about all of this, however, her fascination to explore it overrode her reticence.
Iona sighed. “We need to have a serious discussion first. Lucky for you I’m a switch. I can enjoy being in the submissive role, or the dominant role. With me, I do prefer to be submissive with women, and I can go either way with men, but I can slip into the role with either gender. It’s not so hard for me as it used to be when I was first training.”
Estelle nodded thoughtfully.
“Basically, if you wanted to try your hand at being a Top, I could walk you through it so we can conduct Scene safely. If you want to be a bottom, I can easily top you as well.”
Estelle digested the information, then asked, “Can you clarify what the difference is between being a Top/bottom or Dom/sub means? I think I get it, but I want to be sure.”
“Top and bottoming usually refers to Scene and playtime only. So, for example, there’s this really famous dungeon in Las Vegas called Leather & Lace. If you went there and wanted to ‘play’ with someone, you’d establish rules and roles. Then if you were the person getting flogged, you’d be a bottom. The person flogging you would be your Top. The person doing the flogging in this isolated scenario would not be your Dom/Domme.
“Going into a Dom/Domme relationship involves more of an emotional relationship. There is far more negotiating, and this is when a contract would come into play. Does that jibe so far?”
“Yes,” Estelle said, “And just for clarification. I think I understand the difference between a D/s relationship and an M/s relationship, but could you go over it just so I’m positive?”
“Of course. Usually, a couple will have been in a D/s relationship first before they elevate it to a Master/slave dynamic. I guess to oversimplify explaining it, the M/s relationship is not only more serious, and involves a more heavy power exchange, it also denotes a deeper commitment. A collaring ceremony for the M/s can hold just as much weight, if not more than a legally binding marriage in the vanilla world.”
Estelle’s eyes rose in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, and often there are higher protocols involved in a Master/slave relationship. I know people think of the word Master and slave, and they cringe, thinking Civil War slaves and such. Don’t get me wrong, with my ancestral roots, this was a hard one for me!”
“Yeah, same here,” Estelle agreed.
“But as I started to see these relationships, the slave grants the Master power over herself but doesn’t give up all her rights and privileges as a human being. It’s more of an exchange where the slave takes the utmost joy in serving her Master. The Master slips naturally into the role of taking the slave under their wing to care for and support them. The Master or Mistress dictates how the slave emotionally desires being commanded.
“To be honest, it’s hard to wrap your brain around this level until you see it personally. And the only relationships I’ve seen work in a genuinely sympatico fashion, are the ones based on love, trust, and good communication. If abuse even remotely comes into play, it falls apart quickly. Or submissives and slaves get hurt, which is really sad.
“Honorable Masters and Mistresses get pretty enraged when they see the power dynamic being misused as a vehicle for abuse. It gives the community a bad name.”
“Ah, no wonder you got so uptight about the 50 Shades books.”
“Huh, okay. Well, I don’t think I’m at a point where I could be involved in a D/s or M/s relationship until I figure this all out.”
“You may never be. We have people who come into community that just want to be voyeurs, and as long as you respect others’ need for privacy and discretion, and abide by safe, sane, and consensual rules, you can just show up to events and watch,” Iona said. “Or you go full throttle. It’s really up to you.”
“No, I appreciate all this info. I can’t lie. I’m very intrigued and curious.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Iona smiled. “So, let’s start with a Scene at my place tomorrow. The only thing I need to know is, do you want to be the Top or the bottom?”
Estelle considered this for a moment. Her mind flashed back to her one attempt at BDSM with Dayton.
“I think I’d like to be a bottom. Thinking back on that night with Dayton, I truly enjoyed getting spanked. Like it made me so wet. When I tried to spank him, I didn’t get as turned on. So, maybe I’m a sub?”
“Maybe, but it’s probably too early to tell. Many of us start out in the bottoming/sub role and find later we want to be dominant or that we are switches. So just keep an open mind.”
“Okay. So, should I bring anything tomorrow night?”
“Maybe an overnight bag in case you don’t feel like driving home. Which will be very likely.” Iona wiggled her eyebrows playfully.
“Okay, will do.”
They chatted for about an hour more going over possible hard or soft limits Estelle might have. Iona said she needed to know if Estelle had any sexual traumas from her past, which luckily Estelle did not.
Iona went over the various types of implements she would likely experiment with, and asked if Estelle felt she might be adverse to them. Again, Estelle couldn’t conceive that she would. On the contrary, even talking about it was getting her excited.
Then Iona went over the basic safewords of ‘green-yellow-red,’ and they were done.
Estelle squirmed with hope and expectation, thinking about the details they’d discussed. Her mind had already conjured fantasies of Iona’s sexy body, dominating her, and she felt herself flush with wetness and warmth.
After Iona left, Estelle was again feeling far too excited to go to sleep. She could not remember the last time she felt anticipation of this magnitude. It had been so long since she’d felt alive and excited about anything.
Tomorrow would be another difficult workday to get through as she eagerly awaited her first Scene with Iona.
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