Protecting Her Heart

by Chance Carter

  Emma inhaled deeply and then slowly let out her breath, “you’re a good friend, Luke. You know I love you.”

  “Come on, Mimi, it’s too early in the morning for this sentimental shit,” Luke moaned, playfully brushing her off. She giggled on the other end of the line.

  “Sorry, I know, mushy stuff makes you squirm. That’s why you never have overnighters with your dates.”

  “Something like that,” Luke admitted, running his fingers through his dark mop of morning hair. It wasn’t that he hated mushy stuff, he just had no idea how to respond to it. He was good at a lot of things, but pillow talk wasn’t one of them and honestly, he hadn’t had a lover yet that made him feel all that sentimental. “Have a good day, Mimi. Try to find some trouble to get into.”

  “Haha. Enjoy your day, buddy. I’ll talk to you soon,” Emma chirped, hanging up the phone.

  Luke went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, slipping his toned body under the warm stream of water. Last night was a fun night. He had to admit it was exciting taking Mimi out with him. For the past year or so he found he was growing more restless, even bored with his life. Mimi was making it fun again, and living vicariously through her was sparking his imagination once again. He was over thirty and had spent the better part of his twenties swinging from chandeliers, playing the field, upping the ante. There wasn’t much left for him to explore, at least within his comfort zone, and even though he was a horn-dog, he’d pretty much pushed the envelope as far as he could. Not much excited him anymore.

  He was surprised by how amped up he had been last night. Sure, he had fantasized about Mimi in the past, on more than one occasion, but that was long before she married Andy. Teenage boys weren’t always the most discerning when it came to jerk-off fantasies and he was no exception. It had been awhile since he thought of her that way. Not that she wasn’t a sexy woman, she definitely was, but he liked the clear boundaries their friendship offered, and theirs was the only stable relationship in his life. He could be himself with her and while he had many lovers, none of them could hold a candle to her. He could talk to her about anything, not that he did, but if he ever had the urge to share his deep, dark feelings, Mimi would definitely be the one he would share them with.

  Of course, he would never tell her how horny he had been watching her dance and he hoped it was just a one-off thing (but that was doubtful). Chances were pretty good that if they were going to play in the same circles, he was bound to get randy once in a while but he was a big boy, he would find a way to take care of that himself. He wouldn’t do anything to fuck up their friendship, hard dick or not.

  He stood under the hot stream, allowing the water to cleanse away the inappropriate thoughts churning in his brain, but his cock wasn’t ready to submit. He felt the unmistakable pull of arousal in his groin as he began to stiffen and he leaned himself back just enough to allow the pressure of the shower to play on the tip of his erection. No sooner had he dismissed his thoughts about his half-naked friend did they slip back into his head, teasing a full-blown erection out of him. Realizing there was only one way out of his predicament, he slipped a strong hand down his stomach, gripping his cock forcefully. He held himself against the wall and began stroking himself methodically, searching his brain’s data bank for something sexy to spank off to, something other than Mimi. He settled on a generic threesome fantasy, a hedonistic ‘go to’ that almost always guaranteed a quick release, and this time proved no different.

  Chapter 11

  Emma heard the door open and shut in the other room, just as she was putting on her mascara. It was Luke, a half hour early. She called out to him and he greeted her with a friendly hello.

  “I’m going to grab a beer while I’m waiting, ok?” he called from the kitchen.

  “Sure, I’ll be out in a minute,” she replied, loud enough for him to hear her as she finished adorning her long lashes.

  She closed up the mascara tube and tossed it into her make-up bag, smiling at herself in the mirror, suddenly grateful that Luke was in her life.

  Her feelings were complicated, she knew that. She was sure that, like herself, most women had similar curiosities and desires like her own, but society’s unrealistic expectations of how women should ‘behave’ were drilled into their heads from a very early age and they often felt shameful and embarrassed to have them. No wonder they often didn’t feel safe enough to explore them.

  Throughout her entire life, she had been taught to suppress her desires, starting with her parents who conditioned her, day after day, to be a good girl. They were very clear about what that meant. Good girls kept their mouths closed, legs crossed, and their skirts down. She never thought it was fair that her brother was encouraged to speak his mind and sow his wild oats while she was encouraged to “save” herself for the “right” guy, to be chaste until marriage. Men, she was taught, didn’t want to marry loose women.

  But that was just the beginning of her education. Religion taught her that it was women who carried the burden of sin and that they would forever need to atone for it (thanks for that, Eve!). In school, dress codes were implemented and enforced to ensure that boys would not be distracted by scantily dressed girls. God forbid they see too much thigh and fail math, but no problem shaming a girl and sending her home to change while she missed a few hours of class.

  The truth was, these messages were everywhere, magazines, commercials, television shows. Even the movies polarized women with ridiculous stereotypes.

  But the most heartbreaking in Emma’s opinion? Other women. Instead of working together to end the oppression and shift expectation, they would turn on one another, shaming and degrading each other through malicious gossip and accusations, and as Emma recalled, that started at a very early age. If a girl was pretty and popular and was offered attention from boys she was deemed a slut, regardless of the facts. No one gave a shit about the facts. This made it very clear to Emma and her friends that they needed to pick a side. Shame or be shamed. It was heartless really.

  All these things shaped her view of the world and ultimately forced her into an itty bitty box, slowly and methodically chipping away at her self-confidence, filling her with doubt, making her question her own truth. She learned that in order to protect herself she needed to fly under the radar and keep her thoughts, feelings, and needs locked up tight. When she did have desires that didn’t quite fit into the puzzle of her life, she felt unclean, immoral even. No, she couldn’t be the only woman who struggled with it all, suffocating under impossible expectations, buried deep under society’s conventional burqa.

  That’s why she was grateful for Luke. He was the only person in her life who didn’t ask her to be anything other than herself. He encouraged her to lift the veil, to color outside the lines. He encouraged her to honor her truth, insisted on it really. She could trust him with her intimate thoughts and feelings. He never judged her. Unlike her mother, a devout Catholic who sadly, hadn’t quite forgiven her daughter for leaving her marriage. She had told Emma that divorce was a cop-out, a sin in the eyes of the church, and to this day had still not forgiven her for what she considered a “huge mistake”. Her mother always liked Andrew and considered him the best match her daughter could ever hope for.

  “Can I come in?” Luke said, knocking lightly on her bedroom door, “Are you almost ready?”

  “Yes, come in,” Emma invited, combing her long bangs with her fingers.

  “It looks like a bomb went off in here,” he chuckled stepping over small piles of clothing on the floor.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I went through just about everything in my closet trying to decide what to wear,” Emma confessed, looking at him through her mirror. He had a grin on his face and carried a small shopping bag.

  “You look great, Mimi, really, the fairest of them all, but where I’m taking you requires much less clothing,” Luke insisted playfully, picking a shirt up off the floor. He looked it over quickly before tossing it on the bed.

  “Beli
eve it or not, it took me an hour to decide on this,” Emma laughed, turning around to face her friend.

  “Here, add this to your ensemble,” he grinned, tossing her a shopping bag.

  “What is it?” she asked, looking up at him nervously.

  He chuckled, slowly shaking his head, “open it and find out, silly!”

  Emma took the item out of the bag and carefully peeled away the hot pink tissue paper. She looked it over carefully, turning it over in her hands.

  “Ok, what is it?” she asked again, eyebrow raised. She held it up with both hands to get a closer look. It looked like a thong, but it was made out of sturdy leather with a small silicone dildo placed strategically inside.

  “It’s a chastity belt,” he explained gently, walking toward. her.

  “What’s it for?” she asked’, pretty certain she already knew.

  “It’s for you to wear tonight. It locks around your waist, like this...” he said, taking it from her hands. He pulled a small lock out of his pocket and attached it to the buckle to show her before removing it again. “See?”

  Emma felt her cheeks pinking up, the flush rising quickly, aroused by images that darted flirtatiously in and out of her imagination. She knew that Luke had toyed with BDSM over the years, a little kink here and there, and to be honest, whenever he shared his daring adventures with her she had been intrigued. She had often fantasized about being bound, held ‘against her will’ by a strong, handsome man and forced to submit to his whims, lovingly punished if she resisted...

  “Mimi?” Luke said, drawing her out of her thoughts.

  “Yeah?” she croaked, meeting his stare. He snickered, offering her the belt.

  “Can you figure out how to put it on?”

  “I’ll manage,” she grumbled playfully, slipping it out of his grasp. “But why this piece, is it really necessary?” She held the dildo delicately between two of her fingers, grinning at him.

  “You’ll see...” he purred, helping her stand up, “Now hurry up, we have to get moving. And take this lock with you. Once the belt is on, lock it in place.” He gestured for her to hurry along, leading her to the bathroom. “Wait, wait...” Emma protested, her giggles masking her ambiguity, “where are we going? Why do I need a chastity belt? Should I be worried?”

  Luke looked her in the eyes, his smile fading slightly. “No, you should never be worried when I’m with you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything. Do you trust me?”

  She regarded him for half a second before answering. There was no doubt in her mind.

  “Implicitly.”

  Chapter 12

  “You’re fidgeting,” Luke observed lightly as they walked up the laneway. Emma looked at him incredulously, trying to keep up with his long gait.

  “I can’t imagine why,” she offered breathlessly, deliciously tormented by the slim shaft shifting inside of her with every step. Luke turned his head and looked at her, his expression revealing his glee. He knew the toy was having its way with her, making her feel aroused and vulnerable all at once. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, utterly and helplessly tuned in to her libido. She couldn’t ignore her arousal, her desperate need, even if she tried. She wondered if that was the point.

  “Try to keep up, will ya?” he teased, placing an arm gently around her waist. Although his touch was purely platonic she jumped, as though a volt of electricity shot through her, every cell in her body heightened and alert. He chuckled, ushering her up the old stone staircase toward the house.

  It was a beautiful, Tudor inspired, old, stone mansion with incredible rose bushes adorning the gardens on either side of the stairs. She could only imagine how stunning it would be in the daylight, if it was this spectacular at night. The house was well lit, elegant and inviting, and Emma couldn’t imagine that anything torrid or naughty was going on inside. It looked like a place that held cotillions and welcomed debutants of high society and for a moment she wondered if Luke had lost his mind.

  “What is this place?” she asked, hesitating on the stairs.

  “Shhh, you’ll see. Just stay beside me,” he encouraged, taking her hand, “Oh, I almost forgot, put this on.”

  He handed her a velvet mask and helped her gently slip it into place. She had to admit, as soon as her face was disguised she felt a lot better. She liked the anonymity it offered her. Tonight she could be herself, free herself. The irony was not lost on her.

  “You look mysterious and sexy,” Luke complimented, his eyes lingering on her, “ready?”

  “No,” she whispered, nodding her head yes. She smiled at him and took the hand he offered, allowing him to lead her inside.

  “One more thing...” he said, turning back, “if anyone asks, I’m going to tell people you’re with me. This will give you time to process everything. If you want to participate, let me know. I’ll take care of everything else. Ok?”

  Emma took a deep breath, summoning her courage. She had no idea what she was walking into and felt her heart thrumming inside her chest. As adrenalin coursed through her veins, her womb pulsated with every beat of her heart, the sensation only intensified by the dildo inside her, tightly gripped by her swollen labia. The feeling was sublime. She sighed heavily, feeling she might cum at any moment.

  They were greeted by a butler of sorts, a good looking man wearing a very expensive suit, except that his mouth was covered by a piece of duct tape, presumably so that he wouldn’t speak. Luke handed him an invitation and they were escorted inside. Once they were out of earshot, Luke explained to her that the duct tape was to give the houseguests a sense of security, that whatever happened at the party would stay at the party. They were all bound by that. Emma nodded, curiously drawn to the strangeness of the whole experience.

  They were led through the house and down the basement stairs by a slender young woman, a submissive wearing a white pleather body suit. She also had duct tape over her lips. Every inch of her, from her chin down, was covered including white gloves on her hands, yet every curve and line on her body was pronounced, as though the suit were a second skin. In Emma’s opinion, the fact that you couldn’t see any flesh at all was a million times more provocative than if the girl wore next to nothing. Her suit had a zipper that went from the neck all the way down through her legs and then up the other side so that when unzipped, the garment would easily separate into two pieces. If it was designed to trigger the imagination, it certainly did its job. Emma glanced at Luke, expecting him to be eyeing the pretty submissive up and down but he was looking straight ahead, his face serious and determined. He held her hand tightly as they walked down the stairs.

  “Don’t speak,” he ordered, his breath hot in her ear. She nodded her reply, happy to follow his command and allow herself the luxury to simply observe.

  The expansive room was not like a basement at all. It was dimly lit but she could see that the area was well supplied with comfortable couches and chairs, most of which were filled with spectators of all shapes, sizes, ages and ethnicities. Some people were dressed in fetish wear but most were in street clothes like herself and Luke. Aside from the soft music playing it was quiet. It was as though everyone in the room somehow respected that it was a sacred space, much the way a congregation respects the church. Aside from the furniture, the room boasted a variety of different contraptions designed to bind a consenting submissive into vulnerable positions where they could be tied down and easily accessed by their captors. A combination of groans, soft moans and whispers, drowned out by the occasional thwap of a paddle or swoosh from a flogger, added to the strange, erotic energy of the space.

  It all seemed strangely beautiful, and certainly unusual to Emma, but one thing was clear; all these people congregating together under that roof were living their lives the way they wanted to. They were there because they were seduced by a powerful need to express themselves in a way that fulfilled each of them at their deepest levels, in a way that society would never completely accept or understand. Here, t
hey didn’t have to hide or apologize for who they were. That was alluring.

  “Come, let’s get a drink at the bar,” Luke insisted, resting his hand on the small of her back. He coaxed her through the crowd, skirting their way in and around obstacles. She could feel many curious eyes on her. Normally she would shrink from the attention, tutored well by Andrew over the years to never make eye contact with people, especially men, for fear of a later reprimand. Instead, she felt empowered. She met their gazes fearlessly, comforted by the safety of her mask, and Luke.

  “Beer,” he ordered when they arrived the bar. As soon as the bottles were set in front of them, he handed one to Emma and took one for himself, enjoying a long swig before speaking again.

  He took his time explaining to her the etiquette of the lifestyle, how roles and rules were important and taken very seriously. Safety was paramount, and consent was never implied. It was important to address people the way they wanted to be addressed, to show respect for a person’s position whether they were a dominant or a submissive, a top or a bottom, and above all else, the importance of the safe word. He explained to her how it was considered rude, for example, to speak to a submissive without permission from their dominant. It all seemed quite complicated to Emma, and she worried she might inadvertently offend someone.

  “You look confused,” Luke observed, “speak to me.”

  “This is an interesting party. I never imagined that so many people were into all of this...” she said, finding her voice once more, discreetly gesturing around to the room.

  “Yes, and even more so now that ’50 Shades’ has hit the mainstream. That book made its way into a lot of hands and shook up a lot of sex lives, but that’s the way these things happen sometimes.

  “What’s ’50 Shades’?”

  “Fifty Shades of Grey? Erotic novel, made into a movie? About a young woman invited to be a submissive by a tortured, dominant man?”