Bound to be Dirty

by Savanna Fox

  “Dax has gone back to the mining camp,” Lily said. No, she wasn’t telling them about the divorce. Not until . . . She had no idea when she’d feel ready to talk about it.

  “Too bad,” George said. “It’s hard having Woody go on road trips. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have Dax away for weeks.”

  Or forever. “Let’s talk about the book,” Lily said firmly.

  The waitress served their drinks and she reached for her martini. Given how tired she was, she probably shouldn’t drink alcohol, but she didn’t give a damn. After she SkyTrained home, maybe she’d have another drink or two, take headache meds, and actually sleep.

  George had her usual winter drink, a glass of red wine; Kim, her typical fancy beer. Marielle generally went with a fruity, girly drink, but this time her cocktail was pale brown and creamy. Lily hadn’t paid attention when the others ordered, so now asked, “What is that, Marielle?”

  “Chocolate Godiva martini. Pure bliss. Want to taste?”

  “I do,” Kim promptly said, and George said, “Me too.” Marielle passed the glass, and the other women took sips from separate parts of the rim and made approving sounds. When Lily took her turn, rich, creamy, chocolaty sweetness hit her tongue. “Bliss indeed.” It was as sinful and delicious as sex with Dax. Maybe rather than a second martini, she’ d have one of these. But no, not if it reminded her of Dax. Focus, Lily. “Everyone finished the book?”

  They all nodded, and Kim said, “It made me think about how everyone has different sexual needs. Cassandra didn’t even know what she needed until Neville enlightened her.” She gave a mischievous grin. “After all, that’s what a good boyfriend’s for.”

  “I didn’t like Neville,” Lily said, “but I get it that Cassandra needed certain things to, uh, break through her inhibitions.”

  “How do you mean?” Kim asked.

  “The commands and restraints, they took responsibility away from her. She chose to put herself in Neville’s hands, and then she was free to go wherever he took her.” Lily thought of the different ways she and Dax had made love over the past week and a half, the things she’d learned about her own sexuality. Would she ever have sex again? She couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than Dax. She took another sip of her martini.

  “And he took her where she needed to go,” Marielle said. “Where, if you’ll pardon the expression”—she winked—“no man had gone before. Thanks to him, she found the kind of sexual satisfaction she’d never experienced.”

  “Like I said, a good boyfriend,” Kim agreed.

  “But Neville said he owned her,” George said. “He made her say it.”

  “That’s the kind of thing that made me not like him,” Lily commented.

  Kim nodded. “Yeah, that’s going too far. But he also said they belonged to each other. That sense of belonging is powerful.”

  “Only if two people are equal,” Lily said. “It’s one thing to initiate her sexually and look after her pleasure, but he treated her like a pet that he owned.”

  Marielle leaned forward. “Speaking as a former dog walker, I gotta say, some people are as owned by their pets as vice versa. Those animals have them wrapped around their little paws.”

  “A cute sentiment, but the owner’s in control,” Lily said briskly. “If the owner doesn’t feed the pet, the pet starves.”

  “Okay,” Marielle said, “but with Neville and Cassandra it’s a balance of control. Yeah, he’s commanding her and doing stuff to her, but it’s the stuff she wants done, the stuff that gives her the sexual intensity she’s been craving. She needs that dom stuff, even the pain, to experience true pleasure. Besides, if he’s no longer turning her crank, she can always say the safe word and he has to stop. So doesn’t she have the ultimate control?”

  “No,” George said. “That safe word thing is a head game. Neville’s a bully, a rich, sophisticated, skilled one, but still a bully, and he makes her dependent on him. It’s, like, sexual blackmail. If she says her safe word, yes, he’ll stop—but then she’ll feel crappy for not pleasing him, not to mention she won’t get her orgasm.”

  “I agree,” Lily said. “That’s not equality.” Lily’s relationship with Dax had always been one of equals, each in control of their own life. But they’d also never really shared their lives. Having taken the first steps to doing that at Whistler, she now understood how seductive the notions of belonging and sharing could be.

  “Yeah, but he won’t get his orgasm either,” Marielle said. “He needs her for his sexual pleasure just as much as she needs him. And George, you said she’d feel crappy for not pleasing him, but I bet that goes both ways. Men have performance anxiety, right? Well, imagine how bad a dom must feel if he doesn’t satisfy his woman. Besides—”

  She broke off as the waitress returned, and deftly slid steaming plates onto the center of the table. “Crab cakes, a naan pizza, and samosas. Enjoy, ladies.”

  “Besides,” Marielle took up where she left off. “If Cassandra’s unhappy with him, she can always leave.” She transferred a crab cake to her side plate.

  “Oh sure,” George said. “Like a battered wife can walk out and go to a shelter? It’s not that easy, Marielle.”

  Lily guessed George was thinking of her fiancé’s mother. Earlier this year the media had outed the true story of Woody’s childhood. His father had abused him and his mom. His mother never left; she was only freed when her husband was killed in a bar fight.

  “Women should be stronger than that,” Marielle said. “My mom and granny sure are.”

  Hmm. Did the brunette’s refusal to consider a capital “R” relationship have something to do with her father and grandfather?

  “Sadly, some women are so powerless they don’t see the possibility of escape,” Lily told Marielle. “You’ve heard of battered-woman syndrome? Often, they’re so dependent—due to their husband’s actions, maybe childhood abuse, perhaps lack of education and skills, even cultural or religious values—they can’t imagine making their own way in the world. They may love their husband and believe he loves them. Maybe in some weird way he does. But even so, he’s in the position of power and he’s abusing that power.”

  “I hear you,” Marielle said. “But Cassandra’s well-educated, independent, a successful businesswoman who’s traveled all over the world and slept with a bunch of men. I don’t see her suddenly turning into someone who’s so dependent she doesn’t see options.”

  “Good point,” Lily said.

  “Think about Stockholm Syndrome,” George said. “Where hostages start to bond with their captor.”

  “Neville isn’t holding her hostage, George,” Kim, who’d been munching a slice of naan pizza, put in. “Or abusing her. He’s giving her the sex that, as Marielle says, turns her crank like it’s never been turned before, and offering her a lifestyle beyond her wildest dreams. He’s her perfect guy. We may not be thrilled to bits with him, but she is. I don’t think either one of them’s in control, I think it’s a balance of power.”

  George blew out a long breath. “Look, I’m sorry if this offends anyone, but I think Neville and Cassandra have psychological problems. Something’s happened in their pasts, like abuse or neglect, that’s made them this way. He needs to have this total, dominant control over her and inflict pain in order to get off. And she needs to submit to his control and feel pain in order to have great orgasms. It’s just not natural.”

  They were all silent a moment, then Lily said, “Do you feel the same way about gays? That homosexuality isn’t natural?”

  “No!” George shook her head vigorously, wavy red hair tossing. “Of course not! I don’t care what sex the partners in a relationship are.”

  “But some people do think homosexuals are sick and unnatural,” Lily said.

  “Oh,” George said slowly. “I see what you’re saying. Who am I to judge other people’s sexuality as long as they’re consenting adults.”

  “This stuff is complicated,” Kim said.

&nbs
p; “Human sexuality is incredibly complicated,” Lily said. “I didn’t even realize how complicated until we read this book.”

  “I guess that means it was a good choice, Marielle,” George said. “But I sure didn’t like it. Obviously, it pushed some hot buttons.”

  “Hot enough that you’re not even eating this yummy food.” The brunette gestured to the appetizer platters. “You either,” she said to Lily. Though Marielle and Kim had nibbled steadily, George and Lily had barely touched the snacks.

  George served herself portions of everything, and Lily did the same, knowing she had to put calories in her body.

  George cut a piece of samosa then put her fork down. “I want to apologize for that rant.” Her hazel eyes focused on Lily’s face. “You put things in perspective with that comment about homosexuality. I like to think I’m not a prejudiced person, but my hot buttons really came into play here.”

  “That’s what’s good about book club,” Kim said. “We read different things, share ideas, learn, grow as people. Hey, I was prejudiced against cowboys until Marielle chose Ride Her, Cowboy and suggested that rodeo field trip.”

  “And now you’re engaged to one,” Marielle said. “Yeah, read and learn, girls! Speaking of which, maybe none of us have discovered we’re closeted subs, but has anyone made, you know, personal use of anything in the book?”

  “No way,” George said firmly, picking up her fork again.

  “Seriously?” Kim studied the redhead. “Not even in fun?”

  “Kim has, Kim has,” Marielle chanted. “So you and Ty tried out some new stuff?”

  Kim’s dark eyes danced. “Let’s just say there’s more than one use for a lasso.”

  And a bungee cord. But no way was she going there. It struck Lily that, if she and Dax were still together, it would be fun to toss out the bungee cord comment. Now, though, she wished she could expunge the memory.

  “And belts,” Marielle said. “I don’t get off on actual pain, but just a little sting across the butt can—”

  Lily broke in, pleading, “Could we keep the discussion to the book?”

  “Spoilsport,” Marielle grumbled.

  “I’m with Lily,” George said. “And I want to know if the ending worked for people. That they say they love each other and they’re going to have this amazing life together?”

  “Yes, because they give each other what they need,” Kim said. “They complement each other, and that’s what a good relationship is about.”

  Marielle shook her head. “It didn’t work for me. He’ll get tired of her and go looking for a fresh, dewy-eyed, closeted submissive. The way I see Neville, part of the excitement is the, uh, initiation. Teaching her, showing her that he knows deep, dark secrets she hasn’t acknowledged to herself.”

  “Which points out,” George said, “that we don’t know what’s going on in his mind. We only see him through her eyes. Cassandra believes him when he says he loves her, but the author didn’t include his thoughts, so we don’t know for sure. The author gives the power to Neville, making him mysterious, so the reader isn’t sure what motivates him.”

  “True.” Lily put down the fork she’d been using to poke at a crab cake. “But that’s like real life. We’re never positive what’s going on in someone else’s head, or heart. It makes us vulnerable.”

  “Did you buy into the ending, Lily?” George asked.

  At the moment, it was hard to believe that any relationship could survive for the long term. “I have my doubts. Cassandra and Neville are at the beginning of a relationship, with the typical lust, fascination, excitement, a huge sense of possibility.”

  As George and Kim nodded, Lily drained her martini and gestured to the waitress for another. No, she wouldn’t indulge in a rich, chocolaty drink that reminded her of Dax.

  “But those things don’t give a foundation for the future,” she went on. “Remember Ride Her, Cowboy? Marty and Dirk had that spark of lust but over the course of the book they also developed respect, liking, trust. I saw Marty’s discontent with her old way of life, and how Dirk’s lifestyle grew on her. That author didn’t have Dirk’s point of view either, but his actions showed that he came to care for Marty. In a way we could all easily relate to, rather than”—she lowered her voice—“cuffing her to a spreader bar in a BDSM club, which is harder to get our heads around. So when they said they loved each other, I believed in it, and that they’d try to make it work.” Whether they succeeded was another matter. Love and good intentions clearly weren’t enough to guarantee a happily-ever-after ending.

  George, who’d been nodding as Lily spoke, now said, “Bound by Desire’s all about the sex, right until the very end. They don’t get to know each other as people. They don’t talk about their jobs or families. Do they have friends? Hobbies? What are their core values? I don’t even know if they like each other, so how can I believe they love each other?”

  “That bothered me too,” Marielle said. “This was the first BDSM book I’d read, so I bought another. In this one, the woman’s the dom. They’re lawyers and they met through work but she didn’t know he was a submissive and he didn’t know she was a dom. At a convention out of town, they both visit the same BDSM club and have wild dom-sub sex in public. Then they go on to build a relationship, sexual and otherwise. Very hot sex, by the way. It worked better for me than Bound by Desire.”

  “Woman on top,” Kim teased.

  “Ha ha.” Marielle rolled her eyes. “Anyhow, the guy’s this really successful lawyer, and it’s such a turn-on for him to give over control in the bedroom. Besides, he’s been lusting after this woman, and totally respects her, and when they hook up, he gets off on being able to give her this amazing sexual pleasure.”

  “There can be a lot of satisfaction in that,” Lily said. “I even believed that with Cassandra. That she not only loved the orgasms Neville gave her, but she loved giving him so much pleasure.”

  “Anyhow,” Marielle said, “in that lawyer book, I could see how their lives might look: home, work, sex.”

  “Whereas with Bound by Desire,” Lily said, “suddenly Neville’s supposedly in love with Cassandra, she’s the woman who completes him—”

  “Gag,” Marielle interrupted. “I’ve always hated that line.”

  “Aw, I think it’s sweet,” Kim cooed.

  “A woman should be complete on her own, and so should a man,” Marielle said.

  “Agreed.” Lily reached for the second martini the waitress was delivering, and sipped it while the woman cleared the now-empty appetizer platters. Lily’s plate held a half-eaten crab cake, a nibbled piece of naan pizza, and an untouched samosa. “Anyhow,” she went on, “so Neville says he’ll give Cassandra this fabulous, luxurious life. By happy coincidence, she’s tired of all that lonely travel and job pressure, and delighted to give up her success and independence to become his treasured pet. And he, who’s screwed God knows how many subs, is suddenly going to be content with just Cassandra. I don’t buy it.”

  “But don’t you think that’s the appeal for a lot of readers?” Kim asked. “Okay, maybe this book didn’t do a great job of making it believable, but I think it’s about the fantasy anyway.”

  “Which fantasy?” Lily asked curiously.

  “Um, a few, now that I think of it,” Kim said. “Let’s start with the basic premise. Plain old vanilla sex gets ho-hum and Cassandra wants something more stimulating, but where can she find it? Isn’t that something a lot of women can relate to? Women who’ve dated a bunch of ho-hum guys, or women who’ve been married forever and things have gone stale. Sorry, Lily, that’s not, like, meant to be personal.”

  Lily took a gulp from her new martini. She’d learned this past week that sex with Dax would never go stale. And that sex with any other man would pale in comparison. Not that she was likely to be having any sex with anyone, ever again. “Go on.” She forced herself to eat a bite of samosa.

  “Okay,” Kim said. “So what do women do? Fantasize, right? Mostly it�
��s non-PC stuff they’d never confess to. Like being with two men. Or a vampire or werewolf. Or the old pirate fantasy.”

  “The old pirate fantasy?” George asked. “You mean Johnny Depp in eye makeup?”

  “Orlando Bloom, maybe,” Kim said. “You know. The incredibly dashing, utterly masculine pirate captures the ship and takes the prim maiden captive—and ravages her, and she loves every moment of it, even as she’s protesting the loss of her virtue.”

  “So that’s your fantasy, is it, girlfriend?” Marielle teased.

  “Actually, it was more vampires for me, until I met Ty and found out that live guys are way sexier. Well, I’d bet that Cassandra, even if she wouldn’t acknowledge she was a sub, had some fantasies that involved being dominated by a sexy, powerful guy. Neville brings those fantasies to life, which is the only way she’ll ever have true sexual satisfaction, and she knows she’ll be safe.”

  “Safe?” George said. “I know they say safe, sane, and consensual, but he’s hitting her, causing her pain.”

  “Yeah, but she needs pain to get intense orgasms,” Marielle said, “and if it goes too far, she can stop him with one word.” She turned to Kim. “I hear you. I can see lots of women buying into that fantasy.”

  “There’s another one as well,” Kim said. “I see this with some of the girls at art school.”

  “What’s that?” Lily asked.

  “The old-fashioned one of having a man cherish you, take total care of you, and look after your every need. He not only provides fantastic orgasms, but you don’t have to work. You can travel, study, pursue a hobby, not have to worry about earning money. You can paint, cook, garden. Ride horses.” Her dark eyes twinkled, the city girl who now lived on a ranch. “He’ll buy you a fantastic oceanfront house, a villa in France, a Ferrari. A yacht, with a crew, a chef, a gardener. A pool boy. Every yacht needs a pool boy, right?”