Melissa lay indulgently in bed, where she had been since Erik had left for Sunstone an hour earlier. She had drifted in and out of a drowsy sleep, savoring her day off, grateful she didn’t have to face Mistress Amy this morning, with her insertable exercise ‘motivators.’ Instead, Melissa wrapped herself in soft sheets and the memories of a wonderfully gentle love making session that had unfolded when she and Erik got back from dinner last night.
She smiled, telling herself that just when she had finally accepted her favorite sexual activity was being tied up and spanked, Erik had shifted gears and proved that soft, loving sex could be just as wonderful.
She stretched, arching her back while trying to release the tension from her sore muscles. Yesterday had found a brand new set of muscles to torment. Fortunately, she didn’t feel any sharp pain, only the dull soreness that was hopefully a sign of growing strength. Her full bladder, however, was proving to be far more distracting than her muscle aches. With a frustrated groan, she levered herself out of bed and lurched toward the shower, her gait awkwardly accommodating her abused muscles.
Arriving at the shower, she turned on several streams of water. When she had first shared Erik’s shower, she had felt wasteful about using so much water. She had hesitantly mentioned it to Erik, but he had reassured her. The house used creek water, filtered through reverse osmosis and then heated by solar panels hidden on the roof. She had been initially amazed, then afterward, quietly amused when she realized that he was being environmentally responsible in a way that only rich people could afford.
When the shower warmed up, she stepped under the confluence of several streams of water, gratefully letting their warmth loosen her tight muscles. Reaching down, she spread apart her labia, widened her stance, and then arched back, with her hands behind her head, to practice urinating from a standing position. She still wasn’t sure why Erik wanted her to learn how to urinate standing up, but it didn’t seem to be worth complaining about, so she dutifully practiced every morning in the shower, even on her day off.
She did look askance, however, at the enema wand, wondering if being off-duty meant that she could skip cleaning out her rear end today. She shrugged her shoulders and reached to turn on the water flow for the enema wand. It wasn’t that messy, and she had come to enjoy the feeling of warm water filling her up.
Afterward, she sat in the kitchen, wearing jeans and a tank top while eating a light breakfast. Scrolling through her schedule, she saw she had a ten o’clock appointment with the OB/GYN that Erik had recommended, then lunch with Malcolm. In the afternoon, she planned to go by her apartment to make sure it hadn’t burned down and to check her mail. After that, she and Serena had tentative plans to go shopping downtown, depending on whether or not Serena’s schedule stayed free.
Melissa didn’t have to leave for her doctor’s appointment for another hour, so she considered how to spend the time. With a mischievous grin, she decided to explore some of the outbuildings that dotted the path between the main house and the cottage where Abigail and Chuck lived. She traveled this path several times a day, walking to and from the exercise studio. The buildings and path were wrapped partway around the brow of the hill that rose up behind the buildings. Weaving back and forth, the path was more a set of interconnected courtyards, with occasional overlooks that framed views of the stream valley below. Downslope of the buildings was a rolling meadow ending in a stream and a forest beyond. Melissa realized that she didn’t know how much land Erik actually owned, but she hadn’t seen any other houses from his house. She guessed the hills on the far side of the valley were at least a twenty-minute walk.
Looking down at her tank top, she decided she was decent enough to wander around, even if she ran into Chuck. Her nipples, of course, made distinct bumps in the tank top’s thin fabric. “God forbid,” she grumbled to herself, “if something my closet wasn’t paper thin, or sheer, or silk, or lace, or just totally fucking transparent.” She reached up to jiggle her breasts, “See everyone, here they are. Take a good look. And don’t forget my pussy. Most days, you’d probably see that too.” She laughed, grateful that nobody made sheer blue jeans, certain that if they did, Erik would have bought some for her.
Walking out the front door into the entry courtyard, she came to the conclusion that she wasn’t going to have any sense of modesty after this summer. Then she laughed to herself again. “What the hell? It’s just tits and ass. It’s not like people don’t see all they want on the web anytime.”
She laughed again, “Of course, if they saw me strapped across a spanking bench, getting caned, that might get a few hearts revved up.” The image she had evoked for herself was distracting, and she briefly considered masturbating. She decided she didn’t want to be all sticky for her OB/GYN appointment, and she really did want to explore the outbuildings.
The first one was just a shed built into the back of the wall that ran between the house and the hill, closing in the entry courtyard. The shed was disappointingly empty, with just a couple of bicycles and some odds and ends.
Next she walked over to a building that blocked the view downslope and helped enclose this first small courtyard. It had a thick stone wall without any windows facing the courtyard. She walked down three steps to a heavy wood door and entered what turned out to be a single, moderate-sized room. The dark wood in the room glowed with light from a grid of window panes, set into a framework of dark wood, which occupied the entire far wall overlooking the valley. The wood frames seemed almost Japanese. She saw they slid on tracks, so the wall could open up onto a small stone balcony, with the valley spread out below. The effect was much like how the living area of the main house opened onto a large outdoor patio, except much smaller and more intimate in scale.
There was no furniture in the room, only a beautifully polished dark wood floor. The interior walls were rough-finished stone, and the ceiling was a vaulted framing of dark wood timbers.
Standing in the room, she felt a deep sense of peace. The quiet beauty of the setting seemed to evoke a contemplative and even spiritual sense. She had no idea what Erik used it for, but she could see coming here when she needed quiet time. She did make a mental note, however, to bring a pillow. The floor looked hard.
Walking back out into the bright sunlight, she next went to a larger building, which formed the far side of this first courtyard. The building was nestled against the slope the hill. The path leading away from the courtyard ran around the front of the building, with a nice view of the valley. She had never paid particular attention to this building, since her attention had always been drawn to the view of the valley as she walked past.
On the near side of the building, there was a set of double doors opening into the far corner of the courtyard. Easing one door open, she entered a dimly lit workshop. After hunting around, she found some light switches and turned them on to reveal a surprisingly large space that must have continued back into the hill. The floor was the same painted concrete as the underground garage. Seeing a large roll-up door set into the wall on that side, she realized this shop must actually connect to the garage.
She wasn’t sure what all the tools were in the shop, but a nearly finished dining room table sat in the middle. Running her hand over the wood, she admired its grain. As she looked around the shop, she could easily see Erik in here, working on some project. She decided that was probably how he relaxed. She couldn’t imagine him just loafing and wasting time.
Turning around, she saw as area walled off by glass toward the front of the building. Walking toward the glass, she realized it purpose was probably to keep the sawdust from the workshop from getting into the front area. On the other side of the glass was a big heavy table in the middle of the front area. Display cabinets were arranged all around the walls.
Opening a glass door, she hesitantly stepped inside, feeling a guilty sense of spying. Something seemed personal about this room. The display cabinets drew her toward them. Their presence seemed odd because the main house had almost nothing in the way of knickknacks or displayed collections. Even in his dungeon, as she had come to call the hidden room behind his bedroom closet, all of his bondage and discipline equipment was carefully hidden away in a series of large flat drawers that slid out from one of the walls.
Walking around, she looked in the cabinets. The first several held sets of Legos and painted plastic models that a young boy might put together. There were also silly wood and brass trophies from little league baseball teams and a swim team. A tear suddenly came to her eye as she realized that these were the artifacts of Erik’s childhood. She stared at them for a long time. Looking at the dates, she realized that the trophies stopped after his parents had died. His grandparents must not have liked taking him to little league or swim team practice. A second tear joined the first.
Worried that time was growing short, she wiped away her tears and moved on. The next cabinets held academic awards from his school years. She hurried along, promising herself to spend more time on another visit, studying this amazing record of his life. The next cabinets held an odd assortment of industrial products. After being puzzled for a minute, she guessed these were probably products from some of the first companies he had saved. Arriving at a cabinet filled with musical instruments, she congratulated herself for having guessed right.
The cabinets then turned a corner to a different wall, where she saw the Star Wars collection that he had talked about. As he had told her, there were no figurines or models. Instead, the cabinets held props and some even displayed full costumes, all with museum-style plaques that described which movie the item had appeared in, including which actors had used the prop or worn the costume, and in which scenes.
Melissa had never been a big fan of Star Wars, but some of the items were famous enough that she recognized them. She was stunned, not certain what a collection like this cost, but convinced it wasn’t a small number.
There were still more cabinets to explore, but her time had run out. She had to quickly dress, in order to get to the doctor’s appointment on time.
* * *
Doctor Wendy stood up from her physical examination of Melissa and said, “Everything looks fine. I’ll give you a chance to get dressed. Then you can come next door, and we’ll chat.”
Giving Melissa a smile, the doctor left the room. Melissa swung her feet out of the stirrups and sat up, a little uncertain. It was the first time that an OB/GYN had looked in both her vagina and her anus. She didn’t think that OB/GYN doctors looked back there, only proctologists.
In any case, Doctor Wendy had seemed very pleasant and competent, in a warm, middle-aged sort of way. Certainly, Melissa had never been in an exam room as nice as this, let alone the first room, where she had initially met the doctor. That room was light and airy, filled with plants. There were two comfortable wicker chairs with a low table in between. It had seemed more like an indoor garden than a doctor’s office.
Reminding herself not to keep the doctor waiting, Melissa quickly stood up and took off the exam gown, then put on her clothes. Tucking her silk blouse into the waistband of her linen pants, she simultaneously worked her feet into her shoes. She bent over to slip her feet into the heels, still feeling a little slippery from the lubricant that Doctor Wendy had used on the instrument she used to look inside her anus.
Grabbing her purse, Melissa walked back to the garden room. Doctor Wendy, as the older woman had insisted that Melissa call her, was sitting in one of the chairs, entering information into a tablet. She looked up, gesturing Melissa to sit in the other chair.
Once she sat down, Doctor Wendy began, “So, as I said earlier, I like to get the physical exam out of the way early on. Then we can sit and talk. As I understand it, you’ve recently expanded the range of your sexual activities, so I would guess that you might have some questions.”
Melissa looked back at Doctor Wendy, flustered and uncertain.
After waiting a moment and not getting a response, Doctor Wendy smiled reassuringly and ventured, “I suppose this is all a bit much right now?”
“Ah, yeah. I don’t really know what to ask, or say.”
Doctor Wendy nodded. “Okay, well I can start by telling you that your physical exam was entirely normal. I see some signs that you’ve been having more vigorous, and probably frequent, vaginal and anal sex than you may have in the past, but I certainly didn’t see anything that would give me a reason to worry. Fortunately, the vagina and anus are amazingly plastic, so they can take a surprising amount of activity.”
Melissa struggled not to look away in embarrassment. After a moment, the doctor continued, “It looked like you had a recent enema?”
“Ah yes. Ah, this morning.”
“Okay. Do you use an enema bag or a squeeze bulb?”
“Ah, there’s this thing in the shower. It’s like a black wand that shoots out water.”
The doctor raised her eyebrows, “I hope it doesn’t ‘shoot out’ water. You want to keep the flow rate fairly low with an enema wand like that.”
“Oh, I do. I didn’t mean, like ‘shoot out,’ but, you know, like the water comes out of the tip.”
“Okay, just be very careful not to let the pressure build up too much. Do you let some of the water flow out of your rectum while the wand is still in you?”
“Sure, sometimes, I mean when I start feeling full.”
“Good. So are you into pressure play or holding the water inside for a long time?”
“Oh no. Just for cleaning out. Do, ah, people do stuff like that?”
Doctor Wendy laughed lightly, “Almost anything you can imagine, people will turn into sex play. That’s why my partner and I opened this practice, to specialize in medicine for the… somewhat more sexually adventurous population. With enema play, just like anything else that people turn into a sexual fetish, there can be elaborate rituals and all sorts of variations. Some devotees will try to hold in large amounts, for extended periods of time, which I would definitely not recommend for amateurs, by the way. The last thing you ever want to do is to burst a large intestine. That’ll earn you a long hospital stay, assuming you don’t bleed out first. It certainly sounds, though, that you’re not into that particular kink.”
“No. I mean, the pressure and warmth inside is nice…” Melissa suddenly blushed in embarrassment and stopped.
The doctor gave her another reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve had more than a few enemas in my day, and yes, the sense of fullness can be very erotic. If that’s something you want to explore further, you can try having vaginal intercourse while you hold the water inside.”
“Oh.”
“Using tap water, however, can be irritating, especially if it’s heavily chlorinated.”
“Ah, the water comes from a nearby stream and then it goes through reverse osmosis filtration.”
Doctor Wendy raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s different. In that case, though, with reverse osmosis filtration, the water would be extremely pure. If minerals aren’t added back in after filtration, the whole process of osmosis is going to work the other way around inside you. Your bowels will absorb a lot of that water, which can throw off your electrolytes.”
“I don’t know if minerals are added; I’ll ask Erik.”
“When people use enema solutions in a bag or bulb, they’ll often add salt, and sometimes even baking soda, to create a pH-buffered solution that matches the body’s natural salinity. That’s called an isotonic solution, and it’s important if you’ll be holding in the water for a long time because it doesn’t mess with your electrolyte levels. Other people use all kinds of stuff, including coffee, which I would not recommend. But, if all you’re doing is cleansing in preparation for anal sex, straight water is just fine. You don’t have to do anything fancy.”
“Okay.”
After a long pause, Doctor Wendy said, “Melissa, you seem nervous. I know this lifestyle change is new for you, but please know that you can talk to me about anything. I promise you, there’s absolutely nothing you could tell me that would shock me. And no matter what you do tell me, everything is completely confident. More than that, please know that I personally have the greatest respect for your courage in exploring your sexuality. I know it’s scary sometimes. My role, as your physician, is to give you the information you need to stay healthy and safe.”
“Okay. I’m sorry for being all nervous. I guess it’s my ‘good Catholic girl’ side. You know… doctors, priests, teachers… you’re all authority figures. It’s just really weird talking to you about this stuff.”
Doctor Wendy smiled, nodding thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, “I don’t usually share much about my personal experiences unless a patient asks a direct question – and I feel comfortable answering – but in this case, would it help you to know something about where I’m coming from?”
“Ah, sure, I guess so.”
“So, as you see, I’m older. My husband and I came of age sexually before the Internet made kinky sex commonplace, but even so, we were both fairly open sexually. Before we got married, we had actually gotten into the swinging lifestyle. Do you know what that is?”
“Uh, couple swapping.”
“Swapping, sharing, all sorts of permutations. My husband is pretty narrowly heterosexual, but he loves watching me with other women, and men. And he likes sex with other women. Anyway, one couple we got together with was into BDSM, and wow, was that eye-opening! We connected to others, through them, and both my husband and I found out that we prefer being bottoms – you know, submissives. Fortunately, we’ve found some wonderful tops along the way that love ordering us around. He’s more into humiliation, and I’m more into bondage – ropes, mummification, that sort of thing.”
Doctor Wendy laughed, then continued, “So, don’t think of me as your doctor – more like your kinky confidant, who happens to know a lot about medicine. Does that help?”
Melissa shook her head, “Yes. Look, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I was so scared.”
“That’s alright. It’s probably all sorts of weird right now. But, I’m also sure that over the last couple of days, you probably thought of at least a couple of questions you wanted to ask.”
“Yeah, so somebody mentioned a birth control pill that eliminates periods.”
“Sure…” Doctor Wendy looked down at her tablet. “So you’re on a monthly pill now. Basically, with any birth control pill, if you just threw out the last seven days of placebo pills and constantly took only the active pills, will eliminate periods. Of course, it’s best to use a formulation that is specifically designed for low-dose, constant use. It’s not magic. You’re likely to still get some breakthrough bleeding here and there, but over time, three-quarters of the women on continuous release pills don’t have any breakthrough bleeding at all. And the best thing is: no more PMS.”
“So why doesn’t everyone use it?”
“I don’t know. Most women obstetricians I know have been using constant dose birth control pills for at least as long as I’ve been in practice, but we get them sampled for free, so it’s easy to just throw away the placebos and start the next pack right away.”
“So, do I have to wait until after my next period? That’s next week.”
“No, you can start now. I’ll give you a prescription if you want.”
“Um, sure. What about breast size? Somebody mentioned that it would make my breasts get bigger.”
“Well, as you probably know, almost any birth control pill can make your breasts swell up. The low-dose, constant meds have a more consistent effect, rather than up and down. And the balance of hormones in the every-day pills can have a somewhat more pronounced effect, so you may see a little more swelling or tenderness. If it’s uncomfortable, give me a call, and we’ll see what we can do.”
“Okay.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know if you’re the right person to ask, but it seems like all the women I’ve seen since I got into this whole thing, well anyway, they have lasered their pubic hair off.”
“I notice that you’re clean shaved. Is that something you’ve done for awhile?”
“Yeah, through most of college, and now in grad school.”
“Okay, so you know that once you’ve done laser hair removal enough times, it’s permanent? The hair isn’t coming back. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I think I’m okay with that, but does it hurt?”
“No, not if they do it right. The trick is cooling your skin properly.” She tapped a few times on her tablet. “I’ll give you a list of some good providers when you leave. Since you have lighter-colored hair, they may need to use a hair dye, but that will all be gone in a couple of weeks. You typically have to go back every four to six weeks, for about ten sessions in total, after which, you shouldn’t get any regrowth, although some people have to go back once a year for touch-ups. Everyone’s a little different. Also, the laser hair removal people can do underarms, legs, forearms, whatever you want.”
“Oh, thanks. Wow, no more cutting myself shaving.”
“Yep, just remember, that hair’s not coming back, so make sure it’s what you want, not just somebody else.”
“No, Erik doesn’t put any pressure on me about stuff like that.”
“Good. That’s really important.”
“Yeah, but talking about what he likes, um, what about nipple piercings?”
“Did he ask you, or is that something you want?”
“No, he didn’t say anything. I did find out, though, through a mutual friend that he really likes it. When I asked him about it, he admitted that he likes women with pierced nipples, but he also said it takes months to heal properly, and it really has to be something I want.”
“He sounds like a good man. And yes, he’s right. For most women, it doesn’t actually hurt too much. Again, I’ll give you a list of good providers. But the thing is – in those first few months afterward, you’ll be very susceptible to infections. No playing around with the piercings. At all. If they get infected, that’s what really hurts. It can get messy and lead to complications. If it does get infected, the piercing usually has to be removed and then you have to let the skin heal up. After a month or so, you can start over, but that’s no fun.”
“Okay, but if I’m careful about infections, it doesn’t hurt otherwise?”
“With a good provider, it’s tolerable. Do you remember getting your ears pierced?”
“Yeah.”
“About like that. Probably a little more uncomfortable, but not horrible.”
“And after it heals?”
“Most women, and men, say that having a piercing enhances their sensations. Of course, if your nipples are already overly sensitive, that might not be what you want.”
“I don’t know how sensitive they are. I mean, they’re kind of sensitive. I mean, you know, they’re nipples.”
“Well, some women can barely stand having their nipples touched or played with.”
“Oh no, I like having mine played with.”
“Okay – not overly sensitive then. So what’d I tell you is that the decision to get your nipples, or clitoral hood, or any other part of your body pierced has to be yours, and only yours. Also, keep in mind that nipple piercings tend to close back up very quickly, in less than a day for most people, so you have to wear something through the piercing all the time. There’s a lot of clothes can show the outline of a nipple ring or barbell, which is something you might not want. And while there are some non-metallic options, wearing metal nipple jewelry can sometimes set off airport security scanners. What I’d recommend is talking to people who have piercings and see what they say. Do you know anyone?”
“Yeah, Deborah has nipple rings. I can ask her.”
“Okay. What else would you like to know?”
“Um, so you said that your husband likes to see you with another woman?”
Doctor Wendy nodded.
“So, ah, do you like doing that?”
The older woman laughed lightly. “It can be fun. I guess I’m what’s called heteroflexible. That means my primary orientation is heterosexual, but I’m not opposed to swinging the other way on occasion.” She looked down at her tablet for a moment, then asked, “In your history, you listed yourself as ‘mostly heterosexual’ with some female/female sexual contact. Has that been okay? Any questions or problems?”
“Not really, although… yeah… like, what the fuck?”
Doctor Wendy gave her a quizzical look.
“I thought I only liked guys. I mean, I fooled around once with a girl when I was a sophomore, but most girls do that in college. Anyway, now I’m, like, making out with girls almost as much as I am with Erik, and, well, with other guys, you know, that he wants me to have sex with, and… Oh shit, this is sounding so fucked up.”
“Hey, remember, I’m the one whose husband loves to see her going down on another woman while two other guys are pounding away in my vagina and anus, so no, that does not sound ‘fucked up.’ It sounds surprisingly normal.”
“Wow. Normal just went ‘tilt,’ huh?”
“Normal is all about context. Your normal is what’s right for you. Just you. It’s what feels comfortable for you. So, are you feeling pressured or forced into these things?
“No. Christ! I love making out with Serena and Deborah. I loved it when Erik and Michael were both inside me – like what you said, although I wasn’t going down on a woman at the same time… that seems kind of distracting. Anyway, what freaks me out is how much I like it. Who am I turning into?”
“I remember a similar feeling, the first time my husband and I joined with another couple. I sort of freaked out afterwards And I had led a pretty wild life, sexually, up to that point. So you’d think it wouldn’t bother me. But there I was thinking, ‘this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and now we’re having sex with another couple? What the hell?’ The thing is, I hadn’t changed. We hadn’t changed. We still loved each other. We were just trying a different way of being sexual. And it turned out to be a lot of fun. When the BDSM thing came along, that was a whole different level of strangeness, but it was even more fun. For awhile there, however, I was very unsure. I think what scared me was: what if my husband really likes this, but I don’t? Will I lose him? Of course, we’re still happily married – coming up on twenty-five years. We’ve got two great kids, both in college now. And… I still happily go down on women, just to mess with him.”
She paused, looking at Melissa, then asked, “So I don’t know if I answered your question. What do you think: are you turning into some monster or do you think you’re just learning more about what you like and don’t like?
“Mostly the latter. Sometimes though, it’s the monster thing. It’s weird. I accepted liking the BDSM stuff more easily. I guess I always fantasized about being tied up and forced to have sex. With women though, sure, I enjoy messing around with Serena and Deborah, but it also really creeps me out at some level.”
“Are you worried that you’re secretly a lesbian, and you’ll stop liking men.”
“Maybe.”
“Do you think that’s actually going to happen.”
“Well… no.”
“But you’re still worried?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“Our fears don’t have to make sense. They just have to be scary. But it’s probably worthwhile to take a moment and ask, ‘what’s scary about it?’ For instance, what would happen if you did decide you are a lesbian and that you don’t want to have sex with men? What would be the outcome?”
“Well, one thing for sure, my mother would never talk to me again.”
“Hmm. That would be terrible. But is it true? Would she really stop talking to you?”
“Ah… I don’t know. I mean, it would break her heart. No kids…”
“Why no kids? Don’t lesbian couples have kids?”
“Ah sure. I guess so.”
“So, take a moment and think about that future; imagine yourself married to another woman, with your own kids. Would your mother never visit? Would she never see her grandchildren?”
“Hah! If she had grandkids, she’d be there all the time. I’d never be able to get rid of her.”
“So – and listen carefully – I’m not saying that you’re secretly lesbian or that any of this will come to pass. I truly do believe you when you say that your primary sexual orientation is heterosexual. I’m the same way. And I also believe you when you say that having sex with women is fun – it is. There’s a very different kind of intimacy with another woman. It’s special and wonderful, but it’s not a guy. What I am saying is that for me, at the end of the day, I always go home with my husband, because he’s the one I love. At the end of your day, I think you can trust yourself to go home with whoever is right for you. And I suspect that your parents won’t care who that is, as long as you’re happy, because they love you.”
Doctor Wendy reached out to take Melissa’s hands in her own. She continued in a quiet, firm voice, “Accepting you – for who you are – is the fundamental cornerstone of love. That’s what parents do. It’s our job.”
Melissa quietly started to cry. Doctor Wendy took several tissues from a box near her chair and gave them to Melissa.
Wiping her eyes with the tissues, Melissa complained through quiet sobs, “I don’t know why I’ve been crying so much recently. I never used to lose it like this.”
“You are on an emotional journey. Trust me; crying is a good thing. What would scare me the most right now is if you turned off your feelings because that’s how you’d get into real trouble. As long as you’re crying, you’re safe.”
Melissa gave her a teary smile, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”