Bodie. You and I are going to dig deep and pull them out, one by one. We won’t manage to get all of them into the open tonight; I fear that’s an impossible task. The problem with repressing key events in your life, sweetheart, is that no matter how hard you keep bouncing on them and shoving more into the vault, those suckers will just stage an uprising and burst free to cause pain and havoc.”
As edgy as she felt, Connie’s understanding tone pulled Bodie into a weird place. One where maybe she wasn’t alone with what was going on inside her, where there was someone who had personal experience with the hell she suffered.
“Have you...”
“I’ve been there. Got the emotional scars to prove people don’t always need to be so damn strong to be at peace with themselves. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do, trust me, not only learning how to get out of the habit of tossing all the bad stuff into that vault, but extracting the dead crap already in there. The toxic crap that will stop you having a future, of finding happiness. It takes courage to begin, and the will to carry on through the rough times, but it’s worth it.”
“You’re a Domme,” Bodie pointed out bitterly. “You are strong.”
Connie laughed. “Actually, I’m a switch, sweetheart. Do you know what that is?”
“Do I want to know?”
“Ever on guard. A switch is a person who is both dominant and submissive. For the most part, I prefer having the control over my scenes. Giving orders, establishing the rules, guiding a scene from conception to fruition...it’s a heady rush, having that kind of power over someone who voluntarily surrenders it. However, there are times when I feel the urge to be the one who has the power stripped away. To hand over my worries and doubts, to kneel beside a good, solid Dominant, and know he will take care of everything. I’m just as strong as a submissive as I ever am as a Domme.”
“Doesn’t it make you feel stupid? Going from being in charge to being the one taking orders and giving yourself to someone for their own pleasure?”
“Their pleasure is my pleasure. You had your first scene tonight. Both in general and with Braun. Did he make you come?”
Bodie grimaced. “I...he did something.”
Connie nodded. “You’re not too pleased with what he did, I take it? We’ll come back to that. Did he come?”
The flush heating her skin could’ve melted gold. “I don’t know.”
“I can tell you. The man has blue balls after that scene, sweetheart. I’ve heard all about it—and it won’t go further than me, although you gathered quite the audience toward the end. What happens here doesn’t get spoken of beyond these walls,” she reminded her gently. “That’s what the NDA is for. Back to Braun. He sent you into subspace with the mother of all orgasms, and then he stepped straight into aftercare mode. While you were semi-conscious and vulnerable, he didn’t let you out of his sight. Neither did the poor man get any relief of his own. Your pleasure, your orgasm and the journey getting you there, was his pleasure.”
A small bubble of panic sat just behind her sternum. She’d been watched? While she...while he...oh fuck. Bodie wrapped the blanket—her blanket—tighter around her, her skin twitching as though eyes devoured her from the shadows in the room.
“Th-that was a private moment.” She succeeded in untangling her tongue to speak, even if her traitorous voice exposed the raw nerves Connie’s revelation agitated. “B-Braun allowed it? Why w-would he do something like that?”
The Mistress’s raised foot lowered to the carpet and she leaned forward, eyes inquisitive. “I remember being just as nervous the first time I submitted in front of my peers, sweetheart. Is it the nakedness that bothers you or the fear of being judged?”
This is why I hate motherfucking shrinks.
Somehow, she spilled her guts without giving her mouth permission to work. “He had his fingers inside me, and his mouth...” She gestured wildly to her lower half wildly beneath the blanket. “There. Does that not constitute a private act anymore?”
Connie’s head tilted. “Where did he have his mouth, sweetheart?”
“There!” Frustrated, Bodie gestured again.
“I need you to use your words, Boadicea. Where did Braun touch you?”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You know where.”
“Indulge me, sweetheart.”
What the hell had Braun called it? Panda? Pooch? Puma...nope, that wasn’t it. Possum? The longer she hesitated, the more intense the Mistress’s gaze became. “I, ah...”