SUZY AND QUINN

Chapter 4


By Monday, Susan found she could sit down for limited periods at her library job. Luckily she was able to walk around pushing the book cart sufficiently often that her discomfort wasn't noticeable, or so she hoped. She wondered how she could have got through the day if she'd received the full paddle treatment.

Her hangover was another issue, and it was a little more intense than usual Monday morning. It was compounded by a slight sleep deficit. Friday night, or actually Saturday morning, she had stripped the bed after freeing herself and calling Quinn, and slept through the pre-dawn hours on her couch, getting the mattress started drying out. Following a daytime of fitful naps and TV watching Saturday, she spent Saturday night, again, on the couch. She couldn't get into a normal sleep on the couch, though she did drift off eventually. Then she had received the drinking signal Sunday morning. She really wasn't feeling up to getting drunk Sunday night, but she knew Suzy probably wanted to talk to Quinn, and Susan felt such a strong obligation to Suzy that she wasn't about to deny her. When she returned to self-awareness Sunday night, she felt more dizzy than usual, considering the length of time since she'd taken her last drink. She fell asleep in her clothes, and woke up in the middle of the night to change to pajamas and get under the covers for a normal sleep.

When Susan's phone rang Monday night, she was afraid to see who was calling. She was worried it was Mrs. Corcoran from the library, who, Susan felt suddenly sure, must have noticed something wrong with Susan at work after all. She said "Hello?" tentatively, as if preparing to be slapped in the face.

"Hi, Susan. It's Quinn," said the voice over the phone.

Susan pushed away an instant of pleasure at the idea of talking to Quinn and gave way to confusion as to why she might be calling. Her heart started pounding, and she wasn't sure exactly why that was either. "Oh, Suzy isn't... available right now." She'd realized in mid-sentence that a more automatic "Suzy isn't here" wouldn't be strictly true.

"I called to talk to you, Susan." In repeating Susan's name, clearly Quinn was emphasizing exactly who it was she wanted and that she wasn't confused about who she was talking to.

That gave rise to another puzzle in Susan's mind. "How did you know it was me?"

"The two of you talk differently. It's not easy to explain. You both use the exact same voice, but I can tell which of you is speaking. I called because I need to ask you some questions. Remember about the rules?"

Susan frowned, trying to decide which rules Quinn was talking about, and realized it had to be Quinn's self-imposed requirement that any client had to state clearly what her interests and needs were and what she didn't want Quinn to do. "You want to know what kinds of things I like?"

"Exactly. I'll tell you why I asked. Suzy and I are trying to work out some plans for you. She went into a lot of detail about what you like and what you don't, so I've got a better feeling for that than I did Friday. But I need to hear it from you."

So that explained what Suzy had been doing last night, thought Susan. A thrill of excitement ran through Susan at the prospect of an adventure, almost surely more elaborate than the one Friday night, being concocted by Quinn and Suzy jointly, but it led to an obvious question. "I'm sorry, don't get mad... I mean... I understand why Suzy is looking out for me. But why are you doing so much for me?"

Susan could hear the smile in Quinn's voice. "I like both of you a lot, Susan. And the two of you fascinate me. I told you I do what I do for fun, and exploring your two personalities is... Well, obviously, I've never done anything like it before. I feel lucky to have the chance."

Susan blinked in surprise. No one in her life had ever implied that they felt lucky to know her. "Th-thank you. I mean really." A horrifying thought emerged. In a tiny voice, Susan pleaded, "You won't tell anyone else, right?" She knew that what had happened inside her head was unusual. The attention she would draw if the world in general knew about her would be unbearable.

"Susan, I absolutely swear I will not tell any other person about you and Suzy. There's nothing I consider worth gaining from telling anyone, there's no reason I should, and, like I said, I like you. I'd never want to hurt you." She laughed briefly. "Not that way, anyway. The point is, if I told anybody, I know what it would do to you."

However lucky Quinn felt to have met Susan and Suzy, it was insignificant compared to Susan's gratitude, right now, for Suzy having brought Quinn into her life. "Thank you... Oh! So what did you want to ask me?"

"I should start by saying I don't think we can be ready by this Friday. I know you had your heart set on a long weekend. For one thing, it's possible we might need some more equipment. We haven't decided yet." Susan felt disappointment, that the opportunity presented by the upcoming three-day weekend was lost, but it was overridden by excited speculation about what kind of bondage experience Quinn and Suzy might possibly come up with for her. She almost missed Quinn continuing, "...and I'm having to do a lot of reading."

Susan thought for a moment that made sense, then realized it didn't. "Reading? Why?"

For the first time Quinn was a little evasive, but sounded unapologetic for it. "I can't tell you right now."

Okay, thought Susan, it would spoil the surprise. She was about to ask what the questions were again, but Quinn didn't need further prodding. "Tell me what you really like. What gets you turned on, and why?"

Susan frowned. "I've never figured out anything about why."

"I understand. What I'm really looking for is any thinking you've done on it, even if it hasn't got you anywhere. When I get clients talking about their thinking, pretty often it tells me more about their inner desires than just the bare bones of their fantasy."

"Okay." Susan tried to put her thoughts in order. The first point was easy. "I like to be tied up. Well, 'tied' sounds like rope, but chains are great too. The harder it is to move or do anything, that's always better." Susan marveled at the fact she was telling any of this to another living soul. But somehow it felt natural telling Quinn. Obviously it helped that Quinn was a professional familiar with fetishes of all types, bondage included, and could be assumed to have a detached, clinical interest in them. But it went farther. Susan felt a bond with Quinn she had never felt with anyone. "Oh, and you remember this from Friday. I prefer to be able to get out of it myself, and I like that to be really hard to do. In the end I don't want it to be like, 'Okay, now I'll just untie this knot and be out of here.' It has to be something where there's a lot of time and effort involved. Usually I can't even figure out how to escape until Suzy tells me, or gives me a hint. I like that. And it might even fail. I should be able to see that there's a chance I might be stuck, or at least take a lot longer than intended to get free." She realized being more specific about positions would probably help. "I love being hogtied, that's just about the best. Gag and blindfold if possible. You know that from Friday. Oh, and that position on Friday. That big, wide X. You said you hadn't tied anyone quite that stretched out before, and Suzy told you to do it that way. I could barely, barely move at all. I loved that."

It occurred to Susan that this might be the longest single burst of conversation that had ever come out of her mouth. In her life.

Quinn prodded her, "There's still something more, isn't there? Something you just figured out Friday?"

Susan knew what Quinn meant -- it had remained at the back of her mind all weekend, to be dissected and wondered over. It wasn't surprising Quinn knew about it -- Suzy would have told her. And Susan saw, from the way Quinn had asked the question, how important it was to Quinn that any specifications of what Susan's real, innermost desires were had to come directly from Susan, not by way of Suzy. Quinn could have spelled out what she knew and just asked Susan to confirm it. She hadn't. "I... Okay, this is the part I really don't get, but I know it's true. To really get the most... satisfaction..." Too much euphemism, Susan, she told herself. Quinn needs to know it all. "What I mean is, to have the best, most huge... orgasms ever..." Susan knew her face was turning red, a rare reaction to a situation in which no one could actually see her, "I need to be scared. I have to be afraid of what will happen if I don't get loose. Whatever it is, it's definitely something I don't want to happen. That's why I'm scared of it. But I need that."

"What kinds of things scare you that way?"

Susan was sure Quinn knew the answer, but again, needed to hear it from Susan. "When Suzy puts me outside, naked, tied up, the whole idea of being found that way, of people seeing me that way..." Susan thought Quinn could probably hear her shiver, through the phone line. "That might not even bother you if it happened to you. I don't know. But for me... I can't even think about it, but I do all the time I'm out there. It would be the absolute... worst... thing... that... could... possibly... happen."

Quinn said softly, "I get that, Susan. I understand. But so you need something like that, then?"

"Something that scares me at that level, yeah." Susan wanted suddenly to take back everything she'd said in the last two minutes. She realized she was asking someone to totally scare the shit out of her, someone who was perfectly willing to do it. Yet Susan felt herself starting to get wet, thinking of those orgasms, and what had caused them. She found herself plunging onward. "Friday, I was in my own bedroom, in a safe place, so that whole thing about being found naked and tied up was missing." That is, it had been missing until Quinn left the door unlocked. "That's why I asked for the thing with the paddle. I just said it was motivation, at the time. But it was so I'd be really, really scared of what would happen if I didn't get loose."

"I think you just explained it even better than Suzy did."

Susan wanted to hug Quinn through the phone for understanding. "Thank you."

"Now I want to figure out about limits. Some of these might not even apply to anything Suzy and I are thinking about, because it's just my standard list of questions about no-nos that I ask all my clients. But I need you to answer them all, and really, feel free to say no about any of them. Whatever you say, it's okay. And stop and think about your answers. Take all the time you need to figure it out."

Susan nodded, as if Quinn could see that, and said, "All right."

"Okay. I'll start with what's usually an easy one. Is anal penetration okay?"

Susan shuddered. "No. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Most people say no. That's why I start with that -- so they see that it's perfectly okay to say no. I work with whatever the limitations are. What about vaginal penetration?"

Susan realized she needed to think longer about that one. One obvious point arose. "You know I've never... nothing's ever... been in there?"

"I know. So is it off limits?"

Susan bit her lip. This didn't disgust her in the same way anal play did. "No, it's okay."

"All right. Remember I'm not saying that will even come up. Like I said, standard questions. If it does, are you giving me permission to break the hymen?"

Susan was startled. That complication hadn't occurred to her. She thought now about the traditional "saving it for marriage" thing, but that seemed to belong to a time long past. It was her impression no one did that these days. The truth was, Susan didn't really believe she needed her hymen for anything. If she ever were to have sex with penetration -- which in itself seemed very unlikely -- she thought she was already at an age where nobody would expect her to have one. "Yes."

"In that case, would you rather I did it when you can feel it, or when Suzy is in control?"

Susan suddenly laughed, catching herself very much by surprise. "That last part isn't on your standard list of questions, is it?"

Quinn laughed. Susan really liked her laugh. "You got me there. No, I can't say I've ever asked anybody that before. But you didn't answer yet."

"If it's okay with Suzy, do it with her."

"Check. Now there are a bunch of questions about ropes, handcuffs, bondage, that you've already answered. I'll move on to pain, as in me causing you pain. I know you're willing to risk it, and even take it -- you did really well when I swatted your butt. But there might still be some limits. I'll start with devices. You've already met my paddle. From what you said earlier, it sounds like that is okay."

Susan paused, thinking. "If there's something on that list that scares me, I think that will make me say yes to it. So yes."

"You already risked your butt and thighs with it. I might also use it on your calf muscles. I never hit joints, and the lower back and stomach are definitely off limits -- possible organ damage, so I never go there. Still okay?"

"Yes. You're almost making it less scary. But not really. I know it hurts. Anyway, it's okay."

"The riding crop. That's a little bit milder, but I can use it more places than the paddle. It's what they use on horses. Looks kind of like a fly swatter. Have you seen one?"

"Not close up, but I see what you mean."

"It can really sting -- and can hurt when I do it, from what my clients tell me. I can use it in all those same places as the paddle, and some more where the paddle is too rough. Bottom of your feet okay?"

"Yes."

"Breasts?"

Susan gritted her teeth. "Yes."

"Vaginal lips?"

Susan shuddered. That sounded like it would really hurt. "Yes. You understand, I'm not asking for you to do any of these things. I don't want you to do any of them to me. But you have my permission. You see why, right? I'm saying I would risk them. If they're being held over my head if I can't manage to get out of bondage -- then yes. And I understand that means they might happen. If that situation comes up, and I fail to escape, I need to know you really will do them, whichever of these things you threatened me with. If I think you might let me off the hook, I won't be scared anymore." Once more, Susan felt aghast at what she was agreeing to. But she wanted Quinn's and Suzy's imaginations to roam around the possibilities freely. She didn't want to miss out on the biggest conceivable orgasm just because it required something she had prohibited by reflex. Susan believed that the more frightened she was at the thought of some physical punishment, the greater the reward for adding it to the list of potential outcomes.

The smile was in Quinn's voice again. "So you're giving me some rules of your own." Susan laughed again, and Quinn went on, "I understand. I promise to go by your rules, if any of those things come up. Again, honestly, I don't know if they will. We really just haven't decided on an approach yet." Quinn went back to her standard questions. "I think I'll leave out questions about slapping you with my hand. That's probably not scary enough, and there's already plenty to work with. And I won't bother asking about verbal abuse. That would be totally unrelated to what you're looking for." She paused, as if reading farther down her list. "Okay, the rest of the list is about pleasures instead of pain. Or what might be pleasures. Obviously what one person finds pleasurable, another might find intolerable. Is stimulation by sex toys okay?"

"Like vibrators and stuff?"

"Things like that, yes."

"I've never had one. I don't even know what it feels like." Her satisfaction with fantasies about bondage had come so early that she'd never felt a need to investigate any other means of stimulation. "But yes. Toys are okay."

"Erotic touching? Stroking, fondling, kissing?"

Susan sucked in her breath. That one had struck her in a way she hadn't expected. "Y-you mean... you... and me?"

Quinn said quietly, "Remember, I promised, no one but me will ever know about you. So it would be you and me, yes. Possibly me doing it to you, or possibly requiring you to do it to me. Those are two separate questions."

"I... You know I'm not gay, right?"

"Of course I know. Suzy is, but you're not. That's one of the wonders of this whole thing, right? But that didn't answer my question. And remember it's okay to say no. I'll respect all of these answers. This is how I know how to avoid going past boundaries. That's never satisfying, for the client or for me. One thing I've noticed is that clients who aren't gay -- or at least say they aren't -- are often turned on by my coming on to them. Maybe it scares them and they like to be scared. You're not alone in finding stimulation in being afraid, Susan."

Quinn lapsed into silence, and Susan realized she was still waiting for Susan's answer.

Susan almost laughed. Maybe it is scary, she thought. Maybe I'm as afraid of sexual pleasure with another person, of either sex, as I am of pain.

But that, somehow, didn't feel as if it was the reason her heart was pounding. She remembered Quinn's kiss on her cheek as she was leaving, Friday night. That hadn't been scary at all.

"Okay. Yes, keep all that on the list. I mean, both questions."

"Sorry. Bad list or good list?"

"I mean, it's okay to do... all of that stuff."

"All right. The last thing we should talk about is a safeword. That's where..."

Susan interrupted. "I know what that is. Something I'd say to make you stop doing what you're doing. I don't want one."

Quinn sounded surprised, for the first time. "Susan, you really have to have one. You know you don't have to use it if you don't want to. But for safety, you've got to have one."

"No. You see why, don't you?"

Quinn was silent for a moment, and finally said, "Ohhhh. If you had a punishment coming because you couldn't get out of bondage, and if you knew all you had to do to get out of the punishment was say one word, or hum one series of tones if you were gagged, then you wouldn't be scared anymore."

"Uh-huh."

Quinn was quiet several seconds longer. At last she said, "I can't come up with an argument against that. I'll need to keep thinking about it, and I want you to think about it too. But for now we'll say you have a good reason for not wanting a safeword. I wouldn't do this in any other situation, but I understand what you're saying."

Understanding. Susan felt so drawn to Quinn right now. There is no one else in the world, she thought, who could have got through this entire conversation and understood everything I was telling her. "I promise I'll think about it. But I'm pretty sure I won't change my mind."

"I'm done, then." Susan heard sounds that might be Quinn shuffling paper. "I did have one more question. This one is about you and Suzy, specifically."

"Okay."

"I just want to make sure I see how this works. I know some of this from Suzy, but she couldn't answer part of it, because only you would know. Suzy says she always knows what you're thinking. And she experiences whatever you do, though it's kind of through a curtain. She has your memories, remembers things you do, though not like she was deciding to do them. It's different for you, right?"

"Not completely. Like I was telling you, I remember things she's experienced. But that's only if she lets me. That's the difference. Otherwise it stays a complete blank. If it's performing an action, then it's like you just said for her -- I know what she did, and I experience the actions from inside my body, but it's not like it was me who decided to do them. But again, that's only if she lets me remember it. I guess she's... more powerful than me. In a way."

"Not in every situation, though. There are things she can't do. She's only been able to take over when you get drunk. It looks like she can turn over control back to you anytime she wants, as long as she's still a little tipsy. She says so, and I've even seen her do it. But she can't keep it indefinitely. She told me that the first time, once she started to sober up, she could feel it slipping away. She found that pretty disconcerting, so since then she's given control back to you before that happens. The big thing is, she can't take control. She has to wait until you lose your hold on it, with alcohol.

"Last night when she was talking with me online, she decided to take a few more drinks to see if she could prolong her control of your body -- she doesn't want to take over permanently, I promise. She doesn't want to take over your life. She feels like it belongs to you. It was just something she wanted to try out." Ah, okay, thought Susan. That explains the extra-strong hangover this morning. Quinn continued, "Anyway, it didn't work. She found herself starting to lose her hold, and signed off real quick. It seems it's not just a matter of being intoxicated, by itself. It has to do with the effect of alcohol on you specifically, on your degree of control, and it's not the same if it isn't you that's doing the drinking.

"Here's what she's not sure about. Could you give her control, without using alcohol, if you decide you want to? Where you would sort of blank out, like you do when you drink? But just do it at will?"

Susan thought about it. "As far as I can tell, no." She stopped and thought some more. "I suppose it's possible I could, but I don't know how. But I see what you mean. She can give control to me but not take it, so in that way, I'm more powerful. Except... Well, I can't take it away when she has it. I can't imagine how I could, because at those times, it's like I don't even exist."

Quinn said, as if talking to herself, "So she can give control, and you can't, or don't know how. Neither of you can take control -- in your case, never, and in her case, only when you get drunk. She can't keep it indefinitely, but you can -- as long as you decide not to drink."

"Yeah." She thought about it. "She can kind of come through if there's a real emergency. Once I was going to do something really stupid -- tie myself up in a way that would have kept me getting to work in the library, because it would have taken too long to get free. She stopped me from doing it."

"Stopped you? How?"

"All I had left to do was to close up a padlock. She made my fingers cramp so I couldn't do it." Susan thought it over. "That's not taking control, though. I stayed me, I didn't blank out, and I didn't start doing things without knowing why I was doing them, or feeling like she was doing them. She just kind of froze me up long enough for me to change my mind. Oh, and another time, kind of similar, she tried to stop me from doing something, but she couldn't. I got lucky that time. Nothing bad ended up happening."

"Okay. I'm seeing a lot of the picture now, but there's still some uncertainties. I appreciate you talking to me for so long, Susan."

"Oh! No, what you're doing for me, or trying to -- I can't even get started saying how grateful I am."

"I will talk to you again soon, Susan. And Suzy -- I know you can hear me -- I'll talk to you even sooner. Both of you take care, now."

"I will. And she will too." Susan giggled. "Good-bye."

"Bye."

Susan sighed as she put down the phone. She was excited, and she realized there was more to it than just that someone was going to help plan a bondage weekend for her. She had a strong feeling that her life was completely changing.

In bed, she visualized how Quinn might tie her up, and in what circumstances. She rubbed herself to one of her mini-orgasms.

*   *   *   *   *

Tuesday night, and again Thursday, Susan partook in the requested drinking binges. When she returned to conscious ownership of her body Tuesday, she found, as she'd expected, that her laptop had been used. Thursday night was more surprising: Susan reacquired control in her bedroom, standing by her bed in her pajamas, able to tell she had just showered, and saw that her bedsheets had been changed. She had a beige set and a yellow set, and she knew which one had been on the bed this morning. After a brief period of puzzlement, she realized Quinn must have come over, and she and Suzy had had sex again. After a moment of pique over the lovers having used her bed, she admitted that the bed belonged to Suzy as much as it did to her; she reminded herself that Suzy slept there every night. At least Susan assumed that whenever she was asleep, Suzy was too.

She went quickly out into the living room to see whether Quinn was still there, but she was gone. The only sign of Quinn was a wrapper for a peppermint candy Susan discovered atop the discards in the trash. Susan felt disappointment wash over her, and realized how much she wanted to see Quinn again.

*   *   *   *   *

On Wednesday of the following week, Quinn called again. "I just wanted to check in with you. We haven't forgotten you, and we even have some good ideas. I've got one more big thing I want to check on in my reading."

Susan pushed aside the puzzle of what Quinn might be reading about. Quinn had already declined to tell her once before. "Do you know when it's going to be?"

As she could so often, she could hear the smile in Quinn's voice. "You don't really want to know, do you?"

Susan laughed. "No, I guess not."

"Listen, Suzy told me you know what's going on with me and her. I promise -- we both promise, because she wanted me to tell you this too -- it's not something that's going to get more important than you. Even in bed, after we get done with what we want the bed for, we're still batting plans around, refining some ideas, throwing out some."

"It's okay. I've told myself for a long time I trust Suzy. I trust you too." She suddenly realized, almost laughing again, that normally she would be much more uncomfortable with the idea that Quinn and Suzy were talking about her than she would be about her alter ego and her new friend developing a romantic relationship with each other. Neither fact bothered her, she found now.

She didn't miss hearing Quinn's quick uptake of breath after her last remark. "Thank you, Susan. That's nice to hear." Quinn seemed touched by Susan expressing her faith in her. "Anyway, I'll get back to you soon when I know more."



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