This is Part VIII of a story that started as a snippet from my drafts long ago.  Thanks to James X Morgan’s interest in the story, we’re continuing to co-create Delilah’s adventures with Master Graham.  You can find the posts here on my blog, and on James’ blog Tall Tales.

Part 1, originally named A Tantalizing Opportunity, now called Delilah’s Adventures with Master Graham: Intro is on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Part 2, Meeting, is on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Part 3, Demonstration, is on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Part 4, Exploration, is on my blog here, and on James’ blog here.

Part 5, Consummation, is on my blog here, and on James’s blog here.

Part 6, Reflection, is on my blog here, and James’ blog here.

Part 7, Distraction, is on my blog here, and on James’ blog here.

**************

Delilah had read the message at least 3 times now.  Cup of coffee beside her, computer open, she read it one more time and bit her bottom lip.  She was interested and intrigued – and hesitant and wary.  

Dear Delilah,

Thank you for your email. It seems we may have more to discuss than can sensibly be dealt with by email.

I would therefore propose that, if you wish, we meet again before too long and agree on the scope of our discussions and how best we might approach your research together. It would also, I think, be useful to understand a little more about your background so that I can get a better perspective on how you view the subject and the research you are undertaking.

We could meet again at the club, perhaps on a Wednesday again when it would be quieter, or somewhere else if you would prefer.

Please let me know what would suit you best.

Respectfully

Graham

But even with a fourth reading, there was nothing obvious to make her feel like she was about to find herself in the deep end of the pool.  And she did want to meet with him, to talk with him… and, ok, maybe to experience another bit of the lifestyle she found so fascinating.  

She had continued to think about the spanking he had given her.  It amazed her how the memory of his hand on her bottom, the stinging sensation, the feeling as the sting settled, all of that could arouse her even days later.  Of course she couldn’t let that happen again.  

“Agree on the scope of our discussions…”  She didn’t know what she wanted that to be; she would have to figure that out ahead of time.  She assured herself she would.

And he wanted to know more about her background.  Her professional background, she supposed.  

Then she laughed at herself.  Really, she had no idea what she wanted and no chance of figuring it out before Wednesday.  And she was pretty sure that he wanted more from her than a resume.  

It didn’t matter how hesitant she might feel.  Her life had felt a bit stale lately and she was not going to pass up this chance to add some spice to it.  

Dear Graham,

Thank you for your suggestions.  I agree, more conversation about what to expect from our discussions is a good idea.  Of course, I’m glad to share more about my approach to my research and my background.

I would be happy to meet with you at the club next Wednesday to explore this more.  Is 7:30 still a good time for us to meet?  Would this Wednesday be convenient for you?

I look forward to our conversations.

Warmly,

Delilah

Feeling satisfied with her response, she hit “send.”  Then she realized how foolish she had been to respond so quickly.  Too impulsive.

She shrugged.  Too late.  Well, maybe she could have unsent it, but did it really matter?  He’d probably just think she was eager to move forward with her research.  It would be fine.

**************

MG saw the email on Monday evening; it appeared his little gamble had paid off. She hadn’t hesitated to reply and she was happy to discuss her background as well as the research.  Good. He would be able to move the conversation forward quickly when they met. He rather suspected that that was what Delilah wanted as well. So no point in delaying his reply then.

Dear Delilah

I would be happy to meet you at the club this coming Wednesday. I will meet you at the door at 7.30 as before.

I will be fascinated to learn more about your approach to this research and what led you to undertake it. I am sure there is much to explore and would be delighted to help you in your quest.

Do be careful on the road.

Respectfully

Graham

MG picked up his phone and tapped a couple of times.

‘Graham.’

‘Hello Alan, all well I trust.’

‘Yes indeed.  Wednesday was fun! Your new girl seemed fascinated, didn’t she?’

‘She’s not my girl, in any case not yet. I’m helping her with some research but I am beginning to think that at least some of the research she wants to do might be more personal than professional. That could be fun too!’

‘Good luck old friend! Anyway, you called.’

‘Ah yes. She wants to meet again this Wednesday and I was wondering…’

The conversation didn’t take long and MG was more than satisfied with the result. Alan was always happy to help.

*************

With a better idea of what to expect from the club, Delilah selected an outfit more easily.  She chose a dress that she loved but seldom wore.  It had a scoop neck, and, with the right bra, showed just a touch of cleavage.  Barely noticeable, but there.  The back of the dress had lacing that crisscrossed in the back so it was suggestive of a corset.  It tied loosely, of course.  But still.  

She struggled to find the right shoes, finally settling on a pretty pair of sandals with wedge heels.  

On Wednesday, she relished the ritual of preparation.  She showered, luxuriating in the feel of the loofah and the sensation of warm water. Noticed the soft friction of the towel.  Lotioned her body slowly.  Added a touch of mascara and a bit of color on her lips.  The green in her dress brought out the green in her hazel eyes, and she was pleased with the result.

Just as she was about to head out the door, she paused.  What was she doing?  This was not a date.  It really wasn’t.  Graham was willing to help her with her research, but he (probably) wasn’t interested in her.  She was a fool.

Once again, making things personal when they weren’t.  Stupid.

She was tempted to go back and change clothes.  Put on something more professional.  But she didn’t want to be late – and part of her also didn’t want to change clothes!  Delilah rarely used profanity, but occasionally… “Fuck it,” she thought.  “I’m doing this.”

The drive was more familiar now, and she found the parking lot easily.  It was only 7:20 when she arrived and she watched a few people going into the club.  Such a variety of outfits!

At 7:27 she got out of the car.  She was tempted to jay walk.  It would have been easier.  And she didn’t have to do what Graham said.  Would he spank her again if she did?  And did she want him to?

Remembering the kindness in his eyes when he had talked about staying safe, she walked the half block to the cross walk at the corner.  Just as she started to cross, she saw him standing in front of the club.  She smiled, glad that he had witnessed – oh.  Her obedience.  That thought sent a rush of pleasure through her that ended at her core, and she shook her head at her own foolishness.  But as she got closer to Graham, she looked up at him, hoping to see approval in his eyes.

************** 

MG smiled inwardly when he saw Delilah take the safer route across the road. His smile of welcome was genuine. 

‘Delilah my dear, you look lovely! Do come on in.’

Formalities previously completed, MG led Delilah directly to the table in the corner of the café and went to find some drinks.

Delilah felt quite comfortable waiting for him.  His smile when he saw her had been so genuine. Even without knowing whether he’d noticed her – concern for safety (she was not calling it obedience) she felt good about being here. She smiled, watching him walk toward her with their drinks.

‘I’m very pleased that you decided to continue our conversation. I’ve been doing a little research of my own on the subject and I find the possibility of synergies quite fascinating. The need for trust particularly stands out and I consider myself privileged that you chose to trust me last week. I would be honoured if you still felt able to discuss openly with me any aspect of your research with which you feel I may be able to help you.’

Delilah had started to say,“It is really interesting, isn’t it?” excited that he was already seeing some connections between BDSM and trauma healing.  But she hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, and was completely distracted when he said he felt privileged that she had trusted him.  And honored to help her.  For a moment, she felt too awkward and shy to say anything.  

Then she realized Graham was waiting for a response.  But she wasn’t sure what he was really asking, so she just said, “Yes, of course, I do feel like I can discuss things openly with you.”

MG thought she wasn’t entirely at ease. Perhaps she needed to refocus for a moment. 

‘It seems to me that there are some common themes in the various approaches to trauma healing. Those that I have found include: reclaiming agency, building trust and processing past experience. Perhaps we might explore some of those in the context of BDSM. Do you think that might be a place to start?’

“Yes, that’s a great place to start!”  Delilah felt herself back on stable ground and breathed more easily. “Can I share a little bit about how I see some of that connection?”

‘Good idea! I’m all ears.’

“I should start with trust, since that’s one of the most basic aspects – although they all tie together.  As children, we’re always trying to make sense of the world.  Well, as adults too, but babies start with a blank slate and have to put it all together for themselves.  They’re so helpless.  They cry when they’re hungry or uncomfortable, but that’s all they can do.  If someone appears to feed them, change a diaper, hold them, then they learn to trust that their needs will be met.  If the caregiver does that reliably, the baby will even stop crying when they hear the caregiver moving around.  They’ve learned that those sounds mean help is on the way.

“When a trauma happens, that trust may be shattered, particularly if it is the caregiver inflicting the trauma.  But the caregiver is, for a child, the source of all good things.  So the child doesn’t usually think, ‘Oh, what a bad Mommy or Daddy I have!’  Instead, they think, ‘Oh, what a bad kid I must be that my parents have to treat me like this.’  So they learn not to trust the caregiver, and not to trust themselves.

“These thoughts aren’t rational, of course, and they’re stored away on a subconscious level and the child becomes an adult unaware that they have these deep beliefs about their parents and themselves.”

Delilah paused, looking at Graham a bit anxiously.  “I know I’m talking a lot…”

MG smiled encouragingly. 

‘A lot of interesting insight. Do go on.’

Delilah continued, “So when we talk about people having trust issues – yes.  Yes, they do, and generally for good reason.  Often, we can’t talk them away, because they’re not reasonable, they’re on a deeply ingrained emotional level. So there needs to be an emotional connection to fully access the beliefs.  

“Remembering what it was like when the trauma happened is important to being able to think about those beliefs.  But most of us don’t want to remember exactly what happened and feel those feelings again – who wants to remember that kind of suffering?  This is one reason people avoid going to therapy for trauma. It makes sense to avoid re-experiencing a traumatic memory.

“But if you can’t reclaim those feelings, you can’t access the beliefs that you developed because of the trauma, and you can’t decide if you still want to live by those beliefs or not, and you can’t fully heal.” 

Delilah leaned forward, all awkward shyness lost now.

“I think BDSM is like a big playground where people can play with feelings that they wouldn’t be able to access otherwise.  Every part of the self that gets impacted by trauma is available to be reexperienced and re-examined, potentially in a safe environment with people you can trust.

“Of course,” Delilah leaned back again, “The person you’re with, the Dom, has to actually be safe and trustworthy.  And this is a really simplified version of it all.  But the possibilities…”

Delilah stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I know I’ve just thrown a lot at you.  And I can talk a long time once I get started on this topic.  Maybe we just – well, just bookmark this for now.  There were other things you wanted to discuss tonight too.”

‘It’s a lot to digest, as you say, but quite fascinating and I would like to know more. I wonder whether you would consider writing on the subject to help me understand the issues. Perhaps that could also serve as an introduction to, or other element of, the results of your research.’

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” she said.  “That way you could read and absorb it at your leisure and not use our time together for that.”  She smiled ruefully, “Besides, I forget that not everyone loves talking about trauma as much as I do. There’s probably no need for me to share all that with you.  I’m really here to learn more about BDSM.”   

‘Indeed, and that’s one of the other things I would like to talk about this evening. But first, as I suggested I would like to know more about your background, if you would be willing to tell me. I think it might help me understand how best to help you.’

“Of course!  You know that I’m a Psychology teacher and a researcher, right?  I used to be a therapist, for about 10 years, and really loved that too. What else would you like to know?”

‘I wonder whether you might tell me more about you – where you grew up, what drew you to psychology and therapy. That would be fascinating and, I think, very helpful background.’

“Of course.  I grew up here, in the States, in North Carolina. I’ve always been interested in people – what makes them think and feel and do the things they do.  The stories we tell ourselves about our lives and what they mean…”  

Delilah laughed, “You might say I’m driven by curiosity.  But one thing I know, people are so much harder on themselves than they need to be.  We tend to think something’s wrong with us, when mostly, we’re just being human, living our lives the best we know how.  When I began to understand trauma, I could see people thought that there was something wrong with them because of how they reacted.  Really, they’re just trying to make sense out of something that doesn’t actually make sense.

“I learned so much in therapy – my own, and providing therapy to others.  I moved into teaching and research because it seemed like a better way to share that understanding, rather than with one person at a time in my office.

“Is that the kind of thing you want me to share?”

‘Perfect! I’m guessing you had a traditional upbringing in North Carolina and it seems you’ve made the most of your experience with people there and elsewhere. I feel you have an understanding of how people feel and react to their circumstances, and empathy too. I can imagine you being an effective therapist.’

MG smiled warmly. 

‘And when did you first show an interest in BDSM?’

Delilah hesitated a moment.  “…first show an interest” almost sounded like he meant personally.  But he probably meant as a topic for research.  

“I once had a client who was very involved in the BDSM community.  That made me start thinking about the connection between BDSM and the conditions that facilitate trauma healing.”

‘That would certainly have piqued your professional interest, I’m sure.’

MG leaned forward a little. 

‘I think you said it was good that we could discuss things openly, without judgement. Do you still feel that way?’

“Of course,” Delilah said.

‘And we have already seen that your interest is, at least in some ways, not only professional. So this would be an opportunity to tell me more, to explore that interest further, if you so wish, without judgement and without obligation. To complement your research perhaps?’

“Oh.”  She bit her lower lip, thoughts of the spanking she had received suddenly filling her mind.  Noticing the heat between her thighs, at her core, she said,  “Oh, yes, Sir, I would like that.”  The ‘Sir’ had slipped out without thought but once she had said it, a shiver of pleasure ran through her, followed by a rush of embarrassment.  Both hands flew up to cover her mouth, as if she could unsay it.

MG glanced at his watch. 

‘Oh! Is that the time? I forgot to mention it earlier. There will be another demonstration at 8.30 if you’d be interested.’

“Yes, I am!” Delilah exclaimed, excited about the demo, and relieved that he had either not noticed her slip of the tongue, or at least had not mentioned it.

‘Good. Let’s go then.’

*********

Sir Alan asked two of the audience to help him move a spanking bench into place across the stage.

‘So here we are! Thank you all for joining us. This evening we have a particular favourite of mine: the flogger – so versatile! And please welcome another favourite of mine: Veronica!’

A short, dark-haired girl smiled her way onto the stage. She wore red wrist and ankle cuffs and a small triangle of green satin below her waist; her curves were displayed, inviting attention. 

Sir Alan took her hand as he spoke. 

‘So versatile, as I said. It can be used to tease, or to torture, in almost any position; I’m going to demonstrate three of them.’

He sat sideways on the end of the bench, facing the audience, and patted his lap. Veronica draped herself over his knees and shuffled forward a little so her delightfully round bottom was uppermost. 

‘We’ll start with tease, I think.’

He drew the tails of the flogger slowly up her left leg, over her cheek and onto her back then repeated the movement on her right leg. Changing direction he stroked the leather down her back and along the cleft, allowing the tails to fall slowly between her legs before shaking them left and right down the inside of her thighs.

‘Just teasing really, is that nice Veronica?’

‘Mmm yes Sir – eek!’

Without warning Sir Alan had flicked the flogger over his wrist and landed it smartly on her back before allowing it to slide between her legs again. 

‘So this is quite intimate, more difficult for it to be impersonal. And the view is delightful!’

‘Sir!   Oooh!’

Veronica’s indignation was replaced by surprise as Sir Alan continued windmilling the flogger onto her back and working it down to her cheeks where it produced a little sting.

‘There’s the real target for this position, I mean, who could ignore it?’

Veronica’s pout was anything but real. 

‘So let’s look at the first figure of eight which, in my opinion, must be why floggers were invented. Look at this.’

The windmilling continued but the subtly alternating wrist action allowed the stingy blows to land rapidly on alternating cheeks.

‘Ahhhhh!’

‘There. Just enough to get a reaction. Great for experimenting but we really do need a little more don’t we Veronica?’

Veronica smiled innocently.

‘Do we Sir?’

Sir Alan patted her bottom. 

‘Up you get then and onto the bench. Knees apart, up and over.’

Veronica stretched herself over the hump and settled as Sir Alan continued. 

‘Now we could attach those cuffs but I don’t think we need to. Veronica, you will behave, won’t you?’ 

Another exaggerated pout and ‘Yes Sir, of course Sir’ brought a smile to Sir Alan’s lips as he stroked her hair. 

‘This position allows us similar access but more options for angle of approach. And, of course, a greater range of force.’

He stood beside the bench facing the audience and began flicking the tails onto her back rhythmically. 

‘Figure of eight again, with varying force to ring the changes a little; you’ll see the beginnings of some pretty red marks now. For an even coverage you can move position.’

Sir Alan continued to land the rhythmic figures on her back as he moved slowly past her head and all the way round to the foot of the bench. The effect of the stinging tails was now visible, and  audible; Veronica grunted softly and grasped the sides of the bench.

‘Hmmm. Not just teasing now. This is still not a hard flogging but the cumulative effect does make itself known, it seems. Let’s give her back a break.’

Taking a small step back, Sir Alan gradually eased his aim towards Veronica’s round cheeks, the tails lashing each side in turn on the downward diagonals of the figure eight. Veronica hissed and raised her head. 

‘We just have to be careful here to ensure we only hit what we’re aiming for. Those sneaky tails can get into all sorts of places if they’re not kept under control. Unless of course that’s what the subject wants.’

Veronica squeaked and turned her head. 

‘No! I mean please no thank you Sir!’

‘Hmmm. Very well. There are a couple of ways to reduce the risk by changing the approach.’

Sir Alan now changed to a side to side stroke, each cheek feeling the impact in turn as the direction changed.  

He stopped. Veronica relaxed.

‘Another method allows for more force if required.’

Veronica tensed. He moved beside the bench and brought the flogger down hard four times across both cheeks. 

‘Owww Sir!’

‘It would only be fair to even it up, don’t you think?’

He moved to the other side and delivered four more. 

‘Ow, ow, ow! Sssss!’

The hiss was Veronica’s reaction to each of her striated cheeks being squeezed in turn. 

‘Up you get then, young lady. We don’t want to keep these folks waiting for the finale.’

Sir Alan helped her up and positioned her as he spoke. 

‘Now we’ll look at a position that allows ‘access all areas’ while keeping the sub’s arms out of the way. I also like to use a spreader to keep her legs under control – and because it really does allow full access.’

He first lowered the hoist and attached Veronica’s wrist cuffs then raised it so her hands were above her head. He retrieved the spreader from behind the bench and attached her ankle cuffs. 

‘Now we’re getting serious. And we need to be seriously careful because she is now totally unprotected. Previously we only saw her from the back, now we can see all her lovely assets and we can access them easily from different angles.’

He turned her sideways and began gentle lashes side to side on her stomach. Veronica jumped but settled quickly, eyeing Sir Alan suspiciously.

‘This is a wonderful position for paying attention to her breasts, either gently or less so.’

He changed his movement so the tails followed a figure of eight, catching the underside of each breast on alternating passes.

‘Aaaah!’

Veronica stiffened, her nipples following suit. Sir Alan changed direction to allow the flogger to catch the upper surfaces of her breasts a little harder. 

‘Aah nnn nnn nnn owww!’

Veronica was squirming and pulling away on her tiptoes now but relaxed a little as Sir Alan’s aim moved to her lower belly. 

‘We’re not going to torture our star player this evening but I do think we shouldn’t avoid her legs entirely; they look as though they’re feeling left out.’

He turned her to face the room and moved slightly to one side. He flicked his wrist in a circular motion causing the tails to find the soft skin on the inside of her right thigh. 

‘Ow, ow ssssss! Sir?’

‘Sir? Please do the other side Sir? Of course my dear.’

Sir Alan reversed his wrist motion and the tails found her left inner thigh. Veronica’s pout disappeared as she grimaced and jinked away.

‘I think we’re getting the idea. While we’re here we will make the most of the opportunity and target both inner thighs at the same time. But that means that another sensitive area might also get some attention.’

‘No! Please Sir, no!’

‘So we’ll be quite gentle.’

He flicked the flogger up between her legs so the tails caught both thighs before being drawn over the green satin triangle. Wide-eyed, Veronica flinched and squeaked at each repetition but the anticipation was worse than the sting. 

‘So there we are, a very brief introduction to the joys of the versatile flogger. Now it is called a flogger for a reason.’

As spoke he turned Veronica to face away from the room. 

‘As we finish up, let’s show you that reason. Some prefer to flog the back but it would be a pity to neglect this lovely bottom, hmmm?’

Positioning himself to one side, he leaned slightly forward and drew back his arm.

‘Owwww ow ow ow!’

Veronica arched forward on tiptoes as the first strike landed squarely on her bottom, the tips of the tails just curling round the outer curve of her quivering cheek. She squirmed slightly left and right in a vain attempt to evade the stinging leather. Sir Alan adjusted his position to maintain his accuracy as he delivered five more loud thwacks to the girl’s reddening buttocks. 

‘Urrgh owwwwww owie Sirrr!’

‘No longer just teasing now, hmmm?’

Veronica relaxed a little and repeatedly clenched her buttocks to ease the sting as Sir Alan moved to her other side. 

‘You probably gathered earlier that I like balance.’

‘Sir! No! Please!’

‘So we’ll finish off with the same from this side.’

Veronica arched forward and moaned in anticipation. She jerked and shrieked as the first whack landed, reigniting the fire in her buttocks and adding the sting on the other outer cheek. 

‘Ohhh aaah owwwwww!’

She jerked urgently as the final five strokes were delivered by a determined Sir Alan. 

He stopped and moved in to stroke the bright red cheeks. 

‘Sssss!’

‘Oh! Should I stop?’

‘No! I mean no please Sir.’

He continued to rub gently as the girl started to relax. 

‘Now we could just let her hang around while this soaks in. Or we might think about releasing her, what do you think?’

Sir Alan turned Veronica to face the room and stroked a tear from her cheek. 

‘You have two minutes to come and have a closer look at the effects. Look with your eyes and not with your fingers, to be clear.’

He continued stroking her cheeks and hair. 

‘Thank you Veronica. Well done. We’ll cut you down in just a moment, ok? You’ve done very well.’

Delilah had been watching wide-eyed. She cringed a bit when Veronica cried out and relaxed again as the other woman settled.  Delilah’s heart pounded, her breath was shallow, and her arousal built as the scene unfolded. 

Her breasts felt full and heavy, nipples hardened, and she squirmed, noticing the heat between her legs.   It was as if every inch of her skin was resonating with Veronica’s experience.   

Realizing the demo was over, Delilah shook herself a bit, bringing her attention back to the room.  She was very aware of Graham next to her, wondering what it would be like to be at his mercy like that. That thought sent a tug of pleasure through her core.

Graham stood, and she followed suit, still feeling a bit disoriented from the intensity of the demo. Following him wordlessly, they joined Sir Alan and Veronica.

‘Oh! Hello Delilah. Perhaps Veronica would appreciate it if you unclipped her from the bar.’

“Oh,” Delilah was a bit startled, but quickly responded.  Crouching down so she was closer to Veronica’s feet, she carefully unfastened first one foot, and then the other.  She was very aware of Veronica’s near nakedness, and fascinated by the lingering marks of the flogger on her inner thighs.

Standing back up, Delilah moved closer to Graham, seeking the comfort of his nearness.

Sir Alan lowered the hoist and unclipped Veronica’s wrists, taking her shoulders while she shook out her arms and then drawing her into an embrace.

‘Well done, well done. Let’s find you some clothes and a drink shall we?’

Delilah turned to Graham, eyes wide.  “That was… I don’t even know…” she stopped, truly at a loss for words.

MG fixed her with kind eyes as he took her hands in his.

‘Why don’t we go upstairs and talk about that? And about you, my dear Delilah.’