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That said, she admitted the house was beautiful, light and airy and capable of entertaining a football team and all its coaches without running out of room. She didn't have to clean it, so that was fine.
I got the impression with her kids grown and her husband her owner, she was bored a lot. She painted, she wrote, she worked out, she hiked, she raised small fluffy dogs whose breed I kept forgetting, though it might have been Animate Mop.
She was glad to have the company and I was glad she was there.
Claude was both horrendously strict and easy to get along with, in that he put together a schedule for just about everything. Chloe was disciplined on a schedule, her demerits played out in a dungeon that was nastier looking than St. Martin's. Once a week she had a maintenance spanking that sounded like a side effect of their relationship and was actually something that scared me when it happened on my second day there.
The easy part of Claude was that he was usually working.
"I'm doing what?" I asked. It was lazy and warm in the early June sun and before eight a.m. it would get too hot to be outside and the hummers would have gone off for the day, to return around evening.
Chloe sat forward, her elbows on her knees, her gaze out at the back yard which managed to be landscaped with desert plants native to the area and still somehow look lush and green. "Topping from below. And you're not doing it, you're just wanting to." She pushed her sunglasses up on her nose. "In most scenes, the sub is in control."
I laughed. She had to be joking.
Chloe smiled, unconcerned. "Meaning that the Dominant in most scenes has entered into some kind of agreement with the sub. There are hard limits – no anal play, no breath play, no knife play, no forced groups, whatever it is – and that's spelled out beforehand, along with soft limits – the sub prefers not to be touched in a certain way but maybe that's even part of the turn on, being forced. Because for a lot of these scenes, that's part of it. Like women who have rape fantasies."
I hissed air between my teeth.
"I know, I used to think so, too. But usually they're not quite that. This is going to sound judgy, but a woman who dreams of being beaten and raped and hurt savagely in a dark alley say, that woman needs help. If it's only a fantasy, it's still pretty damned edgy. Usually the rape fantasy is simply nonconsensual and often a stranger and think about it - How much safer can a woman get in exploring truly unacceptable fantasies, what society tells her she can't want? First off it tells her what sex acts are all right, which are taboo, which are – " She hesitated.
"Illegal?" I hazarded.
"No." Chloe shook her head. "For example, take anal."
"No, thanks."
She smiled. "I mean, for most people their reaction is exactly what you just said. But for someone who wants it but can't admit it to herself, the stranger who comes out of nowhere and forces his way into her space and then forces his way into her space - That means she's totally not responsible for wanting that. What could I do about it? It wasn't consensual – I said no!"
"Okay," I said. "But how does that...?"
"It doesn't," she said and I wasn't sure she was answering the question I'd really wanted to ask. "That's not really topping from below, that's an offshoot of negotiation. So maybe the Dom knows the sub well enough to know she's always wanted two guys to refuse to listen to her protests, to strip her naked in the middle of his poker game and – "
"Don't say it," I groaned.
"Really have a poke-her game," she said.
I groaned again. "That's terrible."
Chloe just grinned. "Topping from below is when the sub who is supposed to shut up or just scream in pain or submit and do what the top says and nothing else instead dictates policy and procedure. Maybe the sub uses safe words and speeds – green light, yellow, red light – to dictate what she wants. Or she only allows the things she secretly enjoys or hates but gets off on, whatever her trip is. After a while the top isn't doing what he wants to her, he's doing what she wants to her."
"But I'm not doing that," I protested.
"No," she agreed. "But it sounds like you want to. Because your Master has a game plan he wants to play by. For him, your submission isn't just in the bedroom. Your submission is supposed to be total."
"He's a control freak," I said, nodding, expecting a laugh.
She didn't laugh. "He is. That's his right. It's not something for you to judge him on."
Censor from Chloe kind of hurt. I was silent for a few minutes, pretending to admire the yard. If I were on my own, this might be when I walked away from this relationship.
I hadn't realized how much I depended on the persona I put forth when undercover, and on how much I expected my needs to be met in relationships. I didn't like her telling me what I was doing wasn't right.
"You're a police narc, aren't you?"
I hadn't realized people in southern Nevada knew that, even just in the billionaire's club, but I nodded.
Chloe made a moue with her mouth, considering what to say next. "All right. You expect the people in your life to play by your rules when you're not undercover, right?"
