Chapter 14: Friends and Allies

The drive, deprived of conversation, was tense. Once Georgina was out of the car and on approach to her apartment’s front gate, Diane broke the silence. “How is your throat? Is it still sore?”

“Nope. I have no idea how he managed not to fracture anything. It would seem I’m uninjured, notwithstanding the bruises.”

“It should go without saying—yet I feel that I must say—that I am relieved that you are okay.” She glanced at me. “I also must say ‘thank you’ for confessing to Georgina why we had to leave. You were under no obligation, but I do appreciate being able to avoid punishing Georgie on top of cutting short her fun because of factors beyond her control.”

“I thought you enjoyed punishing your pets.”

“As play, I do. I like to hear my subs yelp out their pleasure when I spank or whip or paddle them, and to see them wiggle their bruised asses and tell me they have misbehaved again and that they deserve more; I like to humiliate my pets in front of others, to watch them try to hide those sparks of perverse pride within their eyes; and I very much enjoy calling my pets ‘naughty’ and ‘whore’ and ‘little bitch’ when they are in the mood to be degraded—but when the offense is serious, if it crosses a vital boundary, I must resort to methods as unpleasant to me as they are to them. I may take away toys and ears and tails, I may take away collars, I may end scenes early or else cancel them outright, and ditto dinner dates or visits to Asmodeus…” She sighed. “My second-least favorite punishment is threatening to end a relationship.”

“What’s your first?”

“Following through on that threat. The bond between a Dominant and a submissive can be even stronger than your typical ‘vanilla’ romance, and the consequences of me severing it can, as you should expect, be devastating, often more-so than for a typical relationship.” My thoughts stewed as I thought more about how she had, in a way, ended our relationship; she noticed. “What is wrong?”

“When you said I shouldn’t want you to own me, that made me… upset. Refusing to own me felt like… like punishment.”

“Oh, Drea! I am ashamed of myself, that is not at all what I intended! It was simply the case that I felt unworthy of such a relationship.”

“Oh. Oh…”

“You helped me to get past that, though. I am as righteous as you are. We are equals, so there is nothing truly perverse about us pretending that I own you in your entirety.”

Frustrated, I reminded her, “Mistress. I don’t want to be your equal. I don’t want to just pretend to be your property. I want my body to belong to you.”

She stroked the corner of her jaw and pondered my protest. “That sounds quite sexy. But it would not work.” My frown dipped further. “I cannot consent to you making yourself my real estate—because I cannot afford the effort or the time to make your decisions for you 24/7; because you are a free soul who would in due time chafe beneath all the restrictions of such a relationship; and furthermore because the new dynamics might well threaten to destabilize your extant partnerships, which I wish to respect and I would not be comfortable showing such a Dominant/submissive dynamic in view of your other lovers before they and I have had opportunities to get to know each other intimately, or all of us to sit down and formally work out the details—in writing, if necessary.” ((Damn it. God damn it.)) “The greatest extent to which I can take our game is that which I am offering you now: a simple Dominant/submissive intimacy. You can either accept that, or reassess our viability as Domme and sub. Am I understood?”

“But I thought I was yours!” I thought I did a good job of not getting overworked as I continued whining, “I was supposed to be your property!”

Her sigh was delicate. “Andrea, even if your job was still in escrow, property free to cease being property at any time is not in earnest property. Instead we roleplay ownership, because the real thing is impossible. You may continue to refer to me as ‘Mistress’, we may put up a façade that I own you and even go so far as to have a calligrapher compose a deed for your whole body and for a fraction of your soul, but neither of us can expect that you will be unswervingly obedient to me forever, so ours will not in truth be—oh, I really do not like this terminology—a ‘Master and slave’ dynamic. I realize that this goes not even half as far as you would like—but is it not acceptable, at least?”

I grunted in frustration. ((I want more. I want to be your property. I want that gold-embossed hand-written deed with my name scribbled in to really mean something—))

((But I don’t want you selling me to anybody else. I want to be for you and only you. (And Judy and Tommy and Nico, too, of course.) I want a contract to last my whole life…))

The word for what I actually wanted popped into my mind, which I pushed down back into its hole without a blink of hesitation. ((Oh, no-no-no, we haven’t even said ‘I love you’, yet, it’s way too early to be thinking about the M-word. Perhaps I’m taking my desires too seriously. Maybe legal ownership truly is too much to ask of you.)) I resigned with a sigh. “Dominant/submissive… but on equal footing, is that it?”

“Precisely.”

“Alright. But I demand that you have that deed drafted as soon as possible.” She giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I want it decorated with gold leaf, embossed, and written in old-timey cursive with a quill like the Declaration of Independence—call it my Declaration of Dependence—and stamped by a notary.”

Her laughter was a flock of almond blossom petals in the wind. “Of course, my Drea. I am not so certain about the notary, but I will see if there is anybody willing to stamp such a document to make it look official.”

“Yes. That will make me happy.”

“Excellent.” She pulled away from the curb, at which point I suggested that we make our way to Adams, to which she agreed. In due time we reached the Red-Light District, and as we proceeded down Adams Avenue, we spotted Yesenia. “Good, she is at her normal spot.”

“Let me out next to her and cross your fingers.” By the time her car came to a rest, I was unbuckled and had one foot on the sidewalk. “Yesenia—‍”

Before my other foot could settle on the curb, though, she asked, “Do tell me, Detective: how did you come upon your brand new, shiny badge?” Her expression was blank, inscrutable.

“Diane got it for me.”

Her face remained unreadable as she nodded. “So, you knew that she was a pig.”

“Yes, actually. I recognized her from work when I saw her face.”

“Whose plan was it for you to win our hearts and minds?”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t planned.”

“Diane betrays us on Wednesday; then, just a few days later, another pig, this one conveniently between jobs and looking for a little cash to pay her rent, shows up and plies our trade, and in doing so gains our trust.”

“The chief forced her to do it; Gunther and Sampson bribed the mayor in exchange for a legally questionable favor.”

She cocked her head and hesitated before asking, skeptically, “Forced her to do… what?”

“To clear out the Torrey Pines. For all we know, the raid was a distraction to grab Alex, although my money is on the villains having operated independently.”

“I’d like for you to define the word ‘forced’.”

“She was given a choice between the raid or her job. If she refused, they would have simply replaced her with someone who would follow orders, and you would no longer have an insider at the department to make life less difficult for—‍” I thought better of using the word ‘us’. “—for sex workers.”

She pondered this a while. “Do you have any proof the pigs were in cahoots with G&S?”

“I don’t know… Maybe we can ask Diane?”

“I will not break our silence. You ask her.”

I knocked on the window and it rolled right down. “Do you have any proof the chief and mayor forced you into this?”

“I do.” She drew her phone and started tapping away. “I have a recording of the brief.” She handed it over and told me, “For your reference, ‘special community partner’ is code for ‘donor to the mayor’s campaign’, which in turn is code for ‘donor to his offshore bank accounts’.”

“Hm. I’ve heard the term before at work.”

I played the meeting for Yesenia. ‘Good morning, Captain,’ says the Chief’s voice. ‘How has your day been?’

‘Quite well, and yours?’ asks Diane’s, cordially.

‘Fine, fine.’

‘Are you in need of… “something special”, Den?’

‘Ah… As a matter of fact, yes, I am.’

‘Shall it be strawberry this time? Or might we give chocolate a try?’ Yesenia covered her mouth.

‘No, no, it isn’t that. I would—that would be wonderful, but, no, alas, I’ve an official task for you.’

‘You have… an “official” task… for me?’

‘Yes, Mayor Kind has a special request for you.’

‘You are asking me to do something for someone in a high place.’

‘Forthwith.’

There was an incredulous pause. ‘Right. Tell me about this “special request”.’

‘One of our special community partners recently acquired a property within First Precinct’s AOR which they intend to modernize.’ Yesenia nodded.

I paused it. “‘Special community partner’ is code for ‘they give the mayor bribes’.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

I tapped ‘resume’. ‘Unfortunately, their new property is under occupation by a group of trespassers.’

‘This sounds more like a job for Property Crimes than Vice.’

‘Another day, perhaps, but today, you are in a better position to leverage the department’s legal powers to their desired end.’

‘Dennis… If you do not mind me saying so… I find your request highly unus—’

‘Captain Somers, this is not a “request”. It is an order.’ Yesenia’s eyebrow popped up.

‘You are giving me an order? Have you forgotten your place?’

‘I have not forgotten that I am your superior. You seem to be the one forgetting things.’

Another pause ensued.

‘Captain Somers, your responsibilities as Captain of the First Precinct’s Vice Squad include the prosecution of those individuals who violate our community’s standards of propriety. I would expect you to take that duty at least a modicum in earnest.’

‘Is this a joke?’

‘No, it is not, so it would be a good idea for you to take your work a little more seriously.’

‘I can assure you I am being serious! But pardon me for finding myself caught off guard by a most bizarre order.’

‘Captain, do you question my authority as your superior?’

She stammers while she searches for the word ‘N—no.’

‘Good. Are you prepared to follow orders?’

Silence.

‘Captain?’

‘Um. Yes.’

‘I am very happy to hear that, and the mayor will be happy, too. Our sources have informed us that a gang of prostitutes are gathering at 09:00 inside the Torrey Pines Hotel. You are to time the raid for after the meeting has convened and any latecomers are inside. What has you bothered, Captain?’

‘H—…’

‘Please, speak freely.’

‘You want… me… to interrupt a meeting being held by sex workers.’

‘Precisely.’

‘To empty the hotel.’

‘That is the goal.’

‘So that this “special community partner” may vandalize a historic building.’

‘Your choice of the word “vandalism” aside, that is indeed our motive.’

‘Which will deprive sex workers of the center of their operations.’

‘As a necessary side effect of removing unwanted occupants so that the hotel can be modernized, yes.’

Silence, during which Yesenia remarked, “I see where this is going.”

‘Any questions, Captain?’ continued the Chief.

‘(I… This is… a lot… I…)’ mumbled Mistress.

‘Would a glass of water help?’

‘No… This… is a bad, awful plan.’

‘Hm. I’ll bite. What is so “awful” about it?’

‘If you do this, you’ll deprive the sex work—prostitutes of our fair city of their only reliable space to conduct their business.’

‘And… you’re saying that’s a bad thing?’

‘Well—if—they don’t have somewhere safe, convenient, and dependable for doing business, they’ll cease to engage in said business in the safety of broad daylight, so to speak.’

‘Once again, I fail to see how that’s an undesirable outcome. Must I remind you, Captain, that eliminating prostitution from this city is one of your unit’s primary objectives?’

‘But… bribes. The officers expect bribes.’

‘Which I consider, to my chagrin, a problematic vice—if you will allow me this play on words—in which too many public servants indulge.’

‘The boys in blue patrolling Adams will be displeased when their side hustle dries up.’

‘Purging the temptation to engage in such corruption will be serendipitous.’

‘You will lose grants and subsidies, dear Dennis. Millions of our state and federal funding to fight so-called “sex trafficking”, all vaporized if you eliminate sex workers from this city.’

‘And we will recover that much if not more if the coffers of our community partners prosper—they will pass on some of their profits to the city, and after they put in a good word for the department with the mayor and city council, those profits will trickle down into your paycheck.’

‘I am not doing this.’

‘If you do not… you may be staring down the barrel at insubordination charges and—depending on the Discipline and Sanctions Board’s conclusions with regards to your behavior—transfer to a different unit, or demotion… or removal from the service.’

Diane’s scoff is rich with indignation. ‘You do understand, Dennis, that consequences would follow from such a change in my employment—of which quite a few will, unavoidably, be less than pleasant for both of us.’

‘You are not an irreplaceable component in my operations.’

‘Not even in personal matters?’ she asks skeptically.

‘I am not the strongest man you’ve known, we are both well aware of that fact, but I do have an inkling of self-control, and you are not the only game in town.’

‘I am the only “game in town” who has the ethical flexibility to discreetly render services to a certain someone in a position of power, who is willing to accept those forms of payment in kind most convenient for him—while speaking not a word of it to any other soul.’ ((What kinds of ‘services’ is she talking about?))

‘Ah. Your earlier words, “consequences will follow from such changes”, bear repeating. I would think twice and then a third time before divulging sensitive information to anybody without a need-to-know, Captain, lest you put yourself in a position far more troublesome than that in which you find yourself already.’

More silence follows.

‘Captain… will you follow orders, or will HR need to post a job opening?’

Yet more silence.

Patience dwindling, the chief says, ‘You know quite intimately just how long I am willing to wait for you to give me what I want—though I do not have all day.’

A sigh, so slow and agonized, escapes Diane. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Here is your briefing packet.’

The rest was Mistress walking to her office then having a sob-filled meltdown before stopping her recording app.

I turned to Yesenia to see her final reaction; she pursed her lips and gave a nod. “Alright.” I joined her as she walked up to the passenger side of Diane’s car, leaned in through the window frame and returned the phone. “Well, Money… I owe you dinner and an apology. And you still owe the guild last month’s dues.”

With a relieved smile on her face, Diane took her friend’s hand and squeezed. “And I will happily pay, Boss.” She pulled a stack-and-a-half of hundreds from her glove compartment, which Yesenia secreted into her purse. ((Holy crap. I’ve never seen so much money beyond the silver screen. Everything I have saved in my bank account just changed hands like it was no big deal. How much does Mistress make? It’s gotta be…)) I did the math in my head and my shock spread wide my eyes. ((My God, she makes something like 2½ million a year off sex!)) I bit my lip. ((I wish I knew the secret to her financial success. My mistress is rich… Fuck, that’s… hot. Diamond necklaces, platinum tiaras, beaded silk dresses, jars of Strotta Bianco, and a black Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow of my own…! Money! So much money, gotta have her money…))

Yesenia stirred me from my fantasies with a question for Diane. “You wanna have a catch-up meeting right now?”

“We could—though it would have to be a summary, as I would like to have my Drea in her bed as soon as possible.”

“Eh. How about we catch up… Wednesday night, then we go back to meeting Saturdays?”

“That works for me.”

“Alright, I’ll see you on the morrow. Dippy, go home, sober up, you smell like booze and sex. Take care of your girl, Money. I love ye, sisters—keep up the good work.” She waved us goodbye and got back to advertising her services on the curb.

Some ten-ish minutes of her mostly cheerful driving and contented sighs later, Diane pulled up to my apartment and, before I could open my door, said, her voice taut with anxiety, “Andrea… it may be… too early in our dalliance for me to be expressing sentiments such as that which is to follow—but it comes from deep inside of me, where it first began to lurk when you entertained my degradation fetish, surfaced when you fished me from my bottomless sea of despair tonight, and surfed the waves after you rescued my relationship with Yesenia. Taking responsibility for your safety and health, as well as discussing with you what you want out of our relationship, are making keeping it inside more difficult. Perhaps even… impossible.”

I waited for her to say what she wanted to say, but she struggled with her mouth for long enough that I figured that she needed some encouragement. “Whatever you might want to say, feel free to say it. You cannot insult, offend, or frighten me, and I will still be yours.”

“Andrea, I…” She choked upon the words that struggled for release. “Georgina was right. I set you up to fail. And I feel terrible, I feel like I have betrayed you. Because…” Her sentence trailed off. I placed my hand in hers and intertwined our fingers. “Drea Bachman… we have only known each other for a few days, and yet…”

“And yet?”

“But I…”

I let her go at her own pace but gave her more encouragement with a squeeze of her hand.

“And yet I find myself enamored to such a degree that…” She sighed anxiously.

“I empathize.”

“Though our time together isn’t nearly long enough to say…” She froze.

((Oh. That.)) “If your heart wants to say it… it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with me.”

“It’s so… wrong to admit this, with such terrible timing to feel compelled towards confession, but—(I-I-I—)”

“I’ll wait, my dear,” I told her softly with my other hand upon her shoulder. So, a minute passed. It was a very long minute, but I abided with the patience of a saint.

And once that long minute ended—softly, timidly—she told me, “(I… love… you.)”

I had been waiting for these words so I could say them back; without delay or effort I responded, “I love you, too, Mistress.” Nestling one hand within the small of her neck, I gently pulled her head my way, then brought my lips within an inch of hers, and waited; after hesitating only half a second, she met them in a soft kiss—which quickly hardened.

As we made out, I breathed in through my nose—

I liked her smell, I craved it, so I ran straight from first to third and reached between her legs and rubbed her crotch. She placed her hand on mine but made no attempt to stop me but, rather, began to kiss me more aggressively.

We panted in the wake of passion and she yearned, “Oh, Drea, I wish to join my flesh with yours.”

“My bed is fifty feet away.”

“Alas, I cannot share my bottom half, which everyday fills me with shame.”

“Whatever flaws you may see in yourself will be invisible to me. I love you far too much to fuss over anatomical minutiae.”

“A kindly sentiment, and yet it is not your opinion that beleaguers me. It is a fact that my body is not right for me. But I would speak of it no more.”

“Oh.”

“If you do not mind… I would like to resume our intimacies.”

“Sure.” I brought her back in for more kissing.

We basked in the glow of skin contact till she slipped my name between our lips, “Drea.”

Kiss. “(Mm?)”

“We will be here—‍” Kiss. “—till the sun kisses—‍” Kiss, kiss. “—the horizon if we do not separate our—‍” Kiss. “—lips.” Kiss.

“(Mm.)” Kiss.

She pulled away and, short of breath, told me, “As much as I enjoy this, I will remind you that you must rest and recuperate.”

I shook my head. “I want to have a lot of sex, right here, right now. I want to see you naked from head to toe and I want to use it to show the sun and horizon what true intimacy looks like, my love.”

“I want that just as much as you do, trust me, but you really need to rest.”

“Ah, damn it… You’re right.”

“I will see you at work tomorrow, Drea dear.”

I nodded reluctantly. “Night, Diane. I had a great time, and I’m looking forward to the next. Also—I’m thinking I’d like us to go to the Pride parade together. After all, we’re lesbians—well, I did fuck a guy today… or… two… or three… so some may question me when I claim to be a lesbian; that said, I think we should proclaim our love for all the world to hear.”

She cleared her throat and nervously explained, “I would love that, I really wish that we could go as one big happy family—you, Georgina, Regina, and myself—but, ours being legally precarious relationships, we must hide our love from all eyes, public and private.”

“We could wear masks—there is an epidemic, after all, no-one would question us.”

“You have a gorgeous face, my dear, and yet your hair, of all your features, is what would be most identifiable in news and social media.”

“I’ll wear a wig.”

She huffed contemplatively through her nose. “You will not relent. Alright, then. I shall pick out your wig and accessories tomorrow, to be delivered to you before the march. As for tonight: either the MDMA or alcohol alone will do a number on your body’s hydration, whereas together you should expect their effects to be formidable. Therefore, I ask that you promise me you will drink plenty of water before retiring to bed.”

“I promise I will, Mistress.”

“I love you,” she said with a soft smile.

I grabbed her by the head and smooched her before getting out. “And I love you, Diane.”

She waited till I let myself inside my place to drive away, but not before we shared a goodbye wave.

I switched the light on and surveyed my room before I kicked my feet up on the coffee table. I checked my phone’s clock—9:40. From the silence crept an ounce of loneliness into my heart. My lovers were away, so there was no-one around to love.

“How was your night?” asked a steel voice thick with concern… and disapproval… and Williamsburg.