Introduction

 

A submissive woman does not give up her power, she trades it for an adventure, one that takes her far beyond the borders of human experience, one that reveals the desires and demons that drive us. Her journey is a zero-sum quest for the truth, not a surrender...Elle

 

Elle watched the video, horrified but unable to turn away.

A naked girl was hanging by her wrists under a cone of light. Every few seconds, a whip from the darkness struck her and she screamed, kicking out wearily with her legs. It was obvious that she had been hanging on her toes for a long time. Elle could feel the searing pain, feel her desperation. This was real! She hit the pause button her eyes locked on the frozen image. The girl was young and beautiful with an incredibly sexy body.

What is this? She looked back at the email. The sender's name was LastToKnow@gmail.com and there was a single line of text: "This is what your boyfriend does in his spare time at 'the club.'"

The club...? Club 39...?

Club 39 was a downtown getaway, a haven for busy rich men where they talked, played cards, ate, drank, smoked cigars, and watched sports. Nothing like this went on there. James had told her...they had joked about it...about the existence of an old-fashioned men's club in these modern times.

Had he lied to her? Was Club 39 a bondage club?

"So, what if it was?" she said loudly, her voice echoing defensively through the empty apartment. Lots of people were fascinated by bondage...including her. This was no reason to send her a disturbing video like this, to accuse her boyfriend of...?

She looked back at the image then clicked the start button again. A moment later, an arm reached into the light and took hold of her nipple. The girl threw back her head and screamed. Elle, breathing hard, quickly hit the stop button again. This was hard to watch.

Should she trash it? No, she wasn't doing anything wrong in just watching. Even if it was true, James wasn't like this. When they engaged in BDSM play, there was a lot of shy banter, a pair of fur-wrapped handcuffs, some non-threatening roleplay, and a light spanking. It was foreplay, nothing more. What she was watching was completely different; this was total submission and hardcore sadism. It had nothing to do with them.

Her hand was trembling when she hit the start button again. The silhouette of a man's body appeared on the cone's edge. Slowly, he turned the girl until her body was perpendicular to his then he began to paddle her with a foot-long strip of leather. The sound of the leather striking her wet skin was terrifying. There was no shy banter in this interaction, no jokes, no false justification, or nervous apology. She could feel the evil, the lust coming through the screen.

She wanted to look away; she didn't want watch, but something held her. It was as if she needed to watch, needed to appreciate her helplessness, needed to fathom her loss of control, her need to submit. She could feel her heart pounding, feel her lungs pumping hard, feel the sweat forming on her upper lip... The video was arousing her.

A strange sound came out of the darkness...other men were in the darkened room, watching. The sounds were low and guttural-involuntary expressions of their approval. Surprisingly, she felt better that there was an audience-the poor girl's pain should not go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Really...! There was something in this to feel better about...?

Suddenly, he stopped the paddling and lowered her to the ground. Elle signed in relief then watched in horror as he re-tied her arms behind her back and hoisted her to her feet in a cruel strappado. Forcing open her legs, he ran his hand inside and held it up. Light glistened off his wet fingers.

Quickly, he lubricated his cock and pushed it into her asshole. She screamed at the impaling then twisted wildly as he began to thrust. Slowly, her mindless gyrations changed into an undulating rhythm that matched his thrusts. She seemed to be sucking him farther inside with righteous vengeance. Shocked, Elle watched their violent coitus until it peaked in a series of violent thrusts.

She thought it was over, until their bodies began to shudder as one convulsion after another overwhelmed them. These were not the autonomic reactions of an ordinary sexual releases; these were massive, bone-breaking convulsions that came from a much deeper and darker place.

She hit "Stop" and stared at the image. Was James involved with this in some way? She had to know. Without thinking, she hit "Replay."

 

Preface

 

People tell me things-secret, intimate things that most of us would rather take to the grave than reveal. I don't know why, maybe I appear trustworthy or I'm a good listener, but whatever the reason, they often cast me in the role of mother-confessor.

That's what Elle did-she told me things about her strange thoughts, desires, and her men.

She and I had been roommates during our time at CICIS-the California Institute of Computer and Information Science-or, as it is otherwise known, "Geek Central." Elle came to CICIS as a 15-year-old prodigy, earned her bachelor's degree in two years, her master's in one, and would have had her PhD at age 20 if not for "him."

I never liked or trusted James Horton...and I was right.

I tried to tell her that he was wrong for her, that she was too young and inexperienced, that her fascination with him was about hormones, that her egghead parents had stunted her emotional growth; that she was an ingénue and he a Silicon Valley wolf...

And of course, she ignored me and moved in with him.

We spoke again a few months later. She was still gushing over him, still describing him as her soulmate. Near the end of our second bottle of wine, she told me about "the video" and how she had confronted him about it; how he had admitted that he enjoyed serious bondage. This was when he challenged her to "get in touch with her own feelings about submission"; something she could do over the summer at the club.

Pure unadulterated hutzpah...!

I lost it. "Ordinary people think of BDSM as a game," I said, "Uber-rich assholes like him think of it as an entitlement." But once again, my attempts to put the kybosh one of her decisions went nowhere. He had already filled her head with pseudo-intellectual garbage about Dominant/submissive roles and alternative lifestyle relationships.

"We love each other, D," she pleaded. "I would do anything for him. Please understand."

Understand...? I understood perfectly-he was the fucking Devil and she his victim!

It was almost a year before I heard from Elle again. She had completed her doctorate and had a hugely successful career as a system's design consultant. On the surface, she seemed none-the-worse-for-wear for her incredible journey through the BDSM netherworld-that she described in shocking detail-but I could tell that she was not in a good place. She had always had an obsessive personality, one that made her follow her instincts wherever they led.

For some reason, in the middle of her story, I started taking notes. She didn't seem to mind, in fact, she encouraged it by slowing down so I could get it all down. I assumed this meant she wanted me to write about it, but I never actually asked-an omission I now deeply regret.

She did call me one last time a month later to tell me how it had all worked out. I tried one last time to dissuade her from the bizarre path she seemed to be on but failed...again. Soon after she disappeared, presumably into her alternative reality.

So, here it is...Elle's unauthorized account of her adventure. I have changed the names of the people and places of course to preserve their reputations and to protect me (and her) from their wrath. I have also taken the liberty of inserting imagined dialogue to make the story read better.

I hope that Elle, wherever she is and whatever she is doing, is well and that she approves.

 

Diana Philbrick

 

Chapter 1 - Options

 

Most love stories end with two people falling in love. Elle's began this way.

It was entirely predictable-a famous teacher mentoring a beautiful student-both exceptional, inspiring, unattached, lonely, and isolated in a way that only truly extraordinary people can be. It was also predictable that his dark and troubled soul would corrupt her. Not that a prediction would have changed anything. As the Bible says, love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

"I'm glad you got that video, Elle," he told her when the discussed it. "I don't want to hide anything from you. There are other ways for people, people like us, to have a deep and loving relationship than the ones you know. I want us to be more than boyfriend and girlfriend. More than 'friends with benefits.' I love you as I have never loved anyone before; I want us to be together forever as man and, well, wife."

Man and wife...? The declaration surprised her, threw her off.

"Is this a proposal?" she had asked lightly.

She took most things lightly. You would think that a "Geek Central" genius would have the personality of a clam and look like one as well, but Elle was just the opposite-she was soft-spoken, outgoing, athletic, fun-the kind of person other people enjoy being around-and she was a stunning beauty with an impossible-to-describe sensuality, an aura of raw sexuality that drew men like bears to honey.

"I want it to be a marriage proposal, Elle," Horton answer, his voice dripping with emotion. "I wish it could be, but I have failed at every relationship I've ever had. I just...I just can't seem to make a normal relationship work, and the last thing I want is to ruin it for us by making the same mistakes."

Incredibly, for all her intelligence, Elle was naďve. She saw this as a heartfelt expression of his love rather than brazen manipulation.

James Theodore Horton was a troubled 36-year-old genius who had taken an AI-based computer program he had written at MIT and built it into a Silicon Valley empire. Along the way, he managed to fail at two marriages, father five children (three outside marriages), and create enough divorce, palimony, and paternity trouble to keep a gaggle of lawyers busy fulltime.

"I'm sure these failures have been my fault," he went on, "and I've tried to get better at...at relationships, but I just cannot do it again...that same way. The emotional trauma of another relationship failure would destroy me; I will just unravel if I need to face another lawyer and another lawsuit."

This much was probably true-by his mid30s, he was clinically unstable. Which was why he visited a psychiatrist twice a week, and why he hired a board-certified psychologist to review all the major decisions of his "high-strung and volatile senior staff," by which he meant himself.

Elle knew all of this and didn't care. James Horton was the smartest man she had ever known, smart enough to keep up with her at every level. She also saw him as loving and caring and his love for her, unlike that of her standoffish parents-a surgeon and a psychiatrist-as selfless. Other than "the club," he had been open with her about everything, and their intimacy had grown from this willingness to be vulnerable. Most importantly, he made her feel like they were the only two people on Earth. When she was with him, nothing else mattered.

"I don't care about any of that, James. Your past problems with women are, well, in the past," she told him. "It is entirely different for us. I love you and I'm not worried about the kind of relationship we have. I want you, just you, and I don't care about anything else. I will do anything you want; I will be anyone you want; I will sign anything your lawyers want me to sign. I just want you, that's all."

...And she meant it, every word.

He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips then he sank the hook.

"I know you do, Elle. I feel the same way about you, but at this point in my life, I need more. I need a relationship that will survive anything. I need to know that your feelings for me are not going to change over some insignificance slight or misunderstanding...over some irrational outburst. I am an emotional basket case, and even a small setback now is going to destroy me."

"That's not going to happen to us, James."

"I know...I know that in my mind, but... People like us are different, Elle, we tend to drift off into our own world sometimes without even realizing it."

"People like us...?"

"You know what I mean...smart, driven, attractive people. I need to know that you will still be here the next time I get buried in a project and don't come home for a month, or the next time I am distracted with a work problem and don't talk to you for a week, or..."

She snuggled up closer to him, pushing her bare nipples into his arm.

"I get it, James, but what more can I do than promise you I will be here for you, always?"

He stopped and turned towards her with a pained expression, as if what he was about to say hurt him.

"I know you will, my darling, but let's face it, we're not all that compatible-I am 34 years old, you are 20; I've been married twice, you have hardly dated; I have five kids, you're just a kid yourself; I am filthy rich, you are up to your ears in student loan debt..."

"Stop...!" she begged. "What does any of this have to do with us. I love..."

"I know, you love me. Look, Elle, I get it as well, we love each other and right now that seems like all that matters, but it's not. Sometimes love is not enough; sometimes a conventional boyfriend-girlfriend arrangement or even a marriage just makes things worse. Trust me, I know, I have become an expert at this stuff."

He threw off the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed.

"I'm late. I have an important meeting this morning with a potential client who is offering us $100 million for a new application. I need to get my head straight."

She leaned up on one arm and spoke to his back.

"I don't care about any of this, James. We love each other and I want to be with you. That's all that matters."

He turned around and kissed her with loving gentleness.

"Maybe we can buy an apartment or a house together, or get a dog, or go sailing for a year, or...I don't know...something! I just need to deal with my damned insecurities somehow. I, ah, need to do something different this time. My life is full of professional success and personal catastrophe...it's a fucking mess. I need to find a way to break the cycle...and I want to do that with you, only with you."

He stared at her with compelling intensity for a full minute. When he finally spoke again, his voice was different...more hopeful.

"I am going to talk to Adam about this. He has been through this before and he is going through something similar now with René right now. He will have an answer for us, he always does. Adam is a natural-born fixer."

She pursed her lips, annoyed. They were frequent guests at Adam McGrath's Tahoe lake house, but she didn't care much for him as a person. He was too...controlling.

"Adam...!

"Why do you need to talk to him, James? Let's work this out for ourselves. We don't need anyone else telling us how we feel, telling us what we should do with our lives.

"Is he involved with the video...with what goes on at the club?"

But James was already on his feet moving towards the bathroom door. He did not like to divert from a plan once he had fixed it in his head.

"I...I really have to go, Elle," he called back. "We'll talk about this tonight. Good luck today."

Most likely, he had forgotten that today was special for her-she was giving the first presentation of her dissertation to the CICIS evaluation committee. She didn't mind; they kept their professional lives separate from their personal one.

"Good thing too!" she whispered to herself, thinking about the video and the kinky bondage things they did themselves in the privacy of his apartment.

 

***

 

Adam McGrath sat in his office staring out at the marina as James spoke.

Like most successful men, James liked to talk, mostly about himself. Adam, on the other hand, was a master at listening. He found that he could learn more by listening carefully and asking probing questions than he could by talking.

The approach had served him well-he was a Silicon Valley legend, an angel investor with a two-billion-dollar portfolio and a five-hundred-million-dollar investment bankroll. He had given James the money he needed to start Horton System, and he was the one who had guided him to success.

"I still don't really understand the problem, James," Adam interrupted. "If you two are into it and ready to commit than just invite her to the club. A new group of Supplicants is starting in June. René will be there; they can complete the evaluation together."

James stared at him for a moment then repeated the same vague problems he had been saying in one form or another for an hour.

"Have you talked to her about this...?" Adam finally asked, interrupting James' monologue.

"Not exactly... I love her, Adam, I really do. She's smart-brilliant really-beautiful, sexy, easygoing...and she loves me. I want to be with her all the time and...and she wants to be with me, forever. It's true, I know it."

"...but you have not discussed commitment...?"

"No."

"Okay, let's deal with this. I know you don't want to hear this, James, but this is exactly how you ended up in so much trouble with Blair and Melody...and with Andy, Yvonne, and Gisele."

Blair and Melody were James' ex-wives. Andy, Yvonne, and Gisele were girlfriends with whom he had had children out of wedlock. Adam could be incredibly brutal when necessary.

"We both know how those relationships turned out. I told you then and I am telling you now, you are responsible for these failures, and part of the reason is that you refuse to face the truth."

Another reason Adam was so successful was because he didn't varnish the truth...ever. Just the opposite, he worked hard to dig it out. This was an arduous task when it came to people and their feelings, especially high-strung Silicon Valley people like James, but it was the only way to avoid...compromise, which he considered the precursor to failure.

"I know...I know, you're right," James said shaking his head. "I know that another failed marriage will make me a three-time loser. I will be a laughingstock again, which will not be good for Horton stock or for the business...for our business. You still own 10% of Horton, Adam, remember?"

Adam raised his eyebrows half-an-inch. Of course, he remembered. Horton System's health was the prime reason he was spending so much time talking to James about his failed love life. Without this compelling financial interest, he would have referred him to a shrink an hour ago. His inability to have a mature relationship was the reason he had brought him into the club.

"You need to get a grip, man. These bouts of immaturity in your relationships are killing you and costing your company, our company a fortune. If Elle doesn't want to be with you under the terms you need then you should let her go. Stop fucking around, there are a million other beautiful women in the Valley who would trade places with her in a heartbeat."

James looked like he was going to cry.

"It's not her, Adam, it's me! I have no idea of how to talk about this with her. I have no idea of what I should be doing to prevent a repeat of... Elle is happy to continue the way we are. I am the one who's looking for something...more. The frustration is that I don't know how to go about it."

Adam leaned forward in his chair and stared at his partner.

"You need to get over this, James. This is the reason I made you join the club. Marriage is just not for you, not anymore. You have already proven that...twice. And the girlfriend route doesn't work for you either as evidenced by the three bastards you now support. If the club and D/s commitment is wrong for Elle, maybe you two should break up."

James face turned red.

"That's it...? That's your fucking advice-dump her? Aren't you going through the same thing with René? Didn't you have the same damn issues with her?"

"No, René and I have worked it out," Adam answered calmly. "And she has agreed to go the commitment route."

"Yeah, how did you accomplish that...?"

"We discussed it like grown-ups, and she agreed. Anyway, that a personal matter between her and me. It doesn't apply to you. I am getting the feeling that Elle doesn't want commitment, so what choice do you have?"

"I don't know if she does or not," James said deflated by Adam's logic.

"Listen to me, James. It's simple. Marriage and girlfriend relationships are poison for you, so either Elle agrees to commit or you two need to separate, okay?"

"She says she will do anything for me...change in any way I ask," James mumbled.

Adam was quiet for a long time staring at him. He knew James was not going to let this discussion go. He was brilliant, but he could also be as stubborn and as petulant as a child. When Adam spoke, there was a new level of seriousness in his voice.

"You don't have any choice, James. If you love her, the only way that can work for you is commitment. In my case, this is the kind of relationship René and I want. You need to determine if this is what you and Elle want. There is no other way for you."

"Yeah, you're right."

"Look, the people behind the Club are experienced with commitments. René and I accept what they are offering; it gives both of us what we need."

"Yeah, I know."

James sat silently. Adam knew the man, he knew that the angst on his face would only get worse, that it might even threaten their relationship, which was now worth eighty-million-dollars at today's stock price.

"How about this, James, let me talk to her then maybe you and Elle can come up to Tahoe for a private weekend. You say she loves you, that she will do anything for you...perhaps when she fully understands, when understands the arrangement and she sees what it's like for René and me, it will be easier for her to make a decision.

"It's easier for us, of course. René and I are already in a full D/s relationship while you guys are still playing around with toy handcuffs, but if she wants you than..."

James's eyes lit up.

"That sounds great, Adam, thanks. Yes, Elle and I are still fooling around with bondage and discipline...that kind of thing. Maybe this is the best way to introduce her to the lifestyle."

"Yes, this could work," Adam agreed. "René is into it. In fact, she was the one who suggested we go with commitment. The Club's program is exactly what we both want. It's not for everyone, maybe it's not for you and Elle--and it's not cheap-but we should give it a shot."

They sat silent for a few seconds then James spoke again.

"Yeah, I agree. Elle says she will do whatever it takes. This is fair for both of us. I need to give to give her the option."

"Right," Adam confirmed, "but no backing out. If she balks then you need to finish it, okay? No more two-hour sessions with me pining over her."

James was nodding his head.

"Yeah, this can work. She doesn't see this as a money or a family issue. This is about love and commitment for her."

"Okay then, it's settled," Adam said standing. "I will let René know that you two will be coming this weekend."

"For sure...," James said standing with him.

Adam held out his hand and they shook.

"I'm excited about this, Adam. I think it's going to work. Thanks."

Adam smiled and nodded then took James' elbow and walked him to the door. Working with James as a business partner was one thing but acting as his relationship consultant in a matter as delicate and as sensitive as a D/s relationship was quite another. This foolishness needed to end, and as with many things, he would need to do it himself.

He didn't look forward to it. He found it hard to be around Elle. For all her naivete, she seemed to see right through him. For most people, the shield he used to ensure his personal privacy worked fine, even René had not penetrated it, but Elle...she seemed to read his mind, to know exactly what he was feeling. It was disturbing and disconcerting. It would be good to get her settled with James, especially as his submissive.

On the other hand, James was too weak to pull this off by himself. So, getting them to that point was going to require more of his involvement. His gut told him this was a mistake, but he had no choice.

 

***

 

Elle arched her back just as James made his final thrust, taking him farther inside, just that last half inch made all the difference. Her vaginal muscles locked on his cock for the full length of his extract precipitating a massive climax for both. Elle didn't have much experience with sex, but she had the instinct for it.

James rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, exhausted. Making love to Elle was special.

"I spoke to Adam," he whispered.

"He wants to talk to you, to explain things. After you guys talk, we can visit him and René at the lake."

Elle was quite; when she finally spoke, there was a tension in her voice.

"I don't like Adam, James. He wants to control everything; he freaks me out."

"He's my best friend," James answered. "He knows this stuff, this commitment stuff better than I do."

"He's not your friend, James, he's your business partner. He doesn't want you to fuck up again...for the sake of the business."

James was quiet for a long time.

"You told me you would do whatever it took, Elle. This is what it's going to take."

"Okay, whatever...," Elle said turning away on her side.

She knew she was being unreasonable, but Adam did freak her out. There was something in the way he looked at her that bothered her, that made her want to run.