Sexual Deviance
Part 5 - Meeting Donna I
F/f, exhibitionism, romantic
"You look bored."
Megan looked up, unsure at first what she had heard. The pub was quiet, and
almost empty. Her friends had still not arrived, and she was nursing a half full
glass bitterly.
She gasped.
The speaker was the most beautiful girl - woman - that Megan had ever seen.
Tall, with gorgeously pale and soft skin, long auburn hair flowing down to her
waist. The red dress she wore was too fine for a place such as this, slit high
to reveal delicate, lacy stockings. The dress was tight, to reveal a wonderfully
curved body, and low enough to reveal an impressive cleavage. Around her neck
was a thin black collar, and a necklace of strange, gothic jewellery.
The woman smiled, with full, bright red lips - a colour to match her dress - and
she sat down opposite Megan.
"I said, 'you looked bored'," she repeated, in a mildly amused tone.
"I..." Megan spluttered. "I was... waiting for someone."
"You've been waiting a long time. I've been watching you. You've been here at
least an hour."
"You've been watching me that long..." How had Megan not noticed her? Easy
question. She wasn't thinking. She was angry and fed up and...
She had known they wouldn't come. She had known from the instant she had walked
into the pub, and they had not been here, but she had waited anyway, waited and
waited, feeling more and more angry with each passing moment.
Megan was dressed to go out. She was ready to go out. She had been looking
forward to it all week. The girls in her floor of the Halls had not been that
friendly, and they had quickly formed a clique that excluded Megan, but she kept
persevering.
Largely, this was because of Susanna. She was gorgeous, and imperious, and
blonde. She reminded Megan in many ways of her first - and only - Mistress, the
haughty Miss Melissa Young. Susanna was not a lesbian, not as far as Megan knew,
but it did not stop her trying.
Susanna and the others had finally invited Megan for a night out with them,
promising to meet her here. She should have known they were lying, she should
have asked why they couldn't just have left the Halls together, but she had come
here anyway, to the other end of the city, and they weren't here.
"They're not coming," she said, sadly, finally accepting that for herself. This
had been a joke played on her.
"More fool them," said the redhead, smiling. "Donna."
"Hmm? Oh... Oh... Megan. Megan Hayden."
"Meg," Donna said, as if trying the sound of the name. "I like that."
She reached out across the table and gently placed her hands over Megan's own.
There was a surge of electricity, and Megan found her heart pounding.
Donna simply smiled.
----------
"I see," said Doctor Kavanagh.
Meg shifted awkwardly in her chair, feeling the intensity of the Doctor's gaze
upon her. Meg's body ached, her sore was red and sore. The straitjacket she had
been forced back into after her shower was damp inside from her sweat, and from
the burning water still trickling on her skin.
The rough fabric rubbed at her in countless places. Her nipples in particular
were in agony, each breath causing them to touch the jacket, bringing tears to
her eyes.
And that was not to mention the pain from her arse. She could still feel Kara's
rape of her...
Thinking of Donna helped. Remembering Donna. That was something to hold onto,
something to cling to.
Meg had spent the rest of last night in her cell, sore and pained, and trying to
forget what had been done to her. She had slept a little, but woken with a
pounding headache and a dull throbbing at her shoulders. She had been fed and
left alone for a long time, until Doctor Kavanagh had summoned her.
The subject this time was Donna.
"Had you had any... ah... 'relationships' before you met Miss Nicholls," Doctor
Kavanagh asked.
Meg hated the way she had phrased that. But what could she say?
"No, Doctor," she said. "My hometown was.. it was small, quite conservative.
There was no... community as such. I wasn't with anyone until I went to
university."
"To a big town," the doctor said, smiling. "With all it's attendant thrills and
perils."
"I had a few... flings, I suppose. None of them lasted longer than a night. Some
of them just wanted a laugh and some..." Meg sighed. She wanted to think about
Donna, not dredge up these painful memories. "I didn't want to be political. I
didn't want to be campaigning for more rights, or protesting against Eminem
songs on the university radio. I didn't look like a typical lesbian and..."
She sighed again.
"I just wanted someone to love someone, someone to love me, someone I could
worship and adore."
"Isn't that nice?" said Doctor Kavanagh, her voice dripping with sweet sarcasm.
"If you didn't spend all your time on your knees acting like such a total
fucking slut, maybe you would have been luckier, hmm?"
Meg closed her eyes and shuddered, trying to beat down the sudden hatred rising
within her. It was as if Doctor Kavanagh had become all the people who had held
her down, who had not understood her, who had hurt her... Her mother, her early
lovers...
She remembered Judy, the morning after their one, painful night together.
"You're not really one of us. You're a LUG."
"A what?"
"Lesbian Until Graduation, that's all. You just want to be arty and daring. You
give all the rest of us a bad image."
No, she couldn't be angry at Doctor Kavanagh. She couldn't let herself be.
"Low self-esteem, that's your problem, Megan. Mind you, even a half-trained
student psychiatrist could have seen that one coming. A need for submission
because you don't trust yourself to make your own decisions.
"Still, it's not all your fault. You've clearly been badly treated by others.
They've taken advantage of you, used this socio-sexual compulsion of yours for
their own personal advantage. This Donna, for example..."
"It wasn't like that!" Meg cried. "You don't understand anything!"
The doctor raised one perfect eyebrow. "Really? Well, we'll come back to that,
although you will never shout at me or interrupt me again, Miss Hayden. My time
and my speech are both far more important than yours.
"Now, carry on telling me about when you met Donna."
----------
They spoke for a little longer, although Donna was controlling the flow of the
conversation easily. Meg was paralysed by a strange combination of naked lust
and submissive terror. It was as if she needed permission to interrupt Donna, or
to ask her a question, or to change the topic of conversation, or, well,
anything at all.
She learned a lot about the bewitching redhead. Donna was twenty-three, four
years older than Meg. She had graduated, and was working in an office somewhere
in a boring job that had the benefit of being well paid. She lived in a nice
flat in a nice-ish area of town.
She was a lesbian, and a 'top' (a term Megan had never heard before but
instantly worked out what it meant). Donna didn't say that as such, but it was
blatantly clear from her actions, her bearing, her tone of voice. Even someone
as bad at reading the signs as Megan was worked that out.
She was single, and a Virgo. She liked heavy metal music, trashy romantic
novels, Hong Kong martial arts films and gothy graphic novels.
She drank vodka chilled with blackcurrant and precisely three cubes of ice.
She called Megan 'Meg'.
And she was planning on going to a club later tonight. She wasn't going with
anyone else in particular, and would Meg like to go with her?
"I'm sorry?" said Meg (she had decided that was how she would refer to herself
from now on). "I didn't..."
Donna smiled, a beautiful sight, slightly enigmatic, slightly amused. "I asked
if you wanted to come out to the club with me. Unless you had anywhere else to
go?"
"No... I mean, yes... No, there's nowhere... Yes, I want to..."
Meg could barely think. She was feeling just as she had in those toilets with
Miss Young. She would do whatever Donna told her to, even if that meant get down
on her knees and lick her right here.
Donna smiled again, and Meg knew she was in love.
----------
Doctor Kavanagh interrupted her there.
"What did she study?"
"I'm sorry?" Meg asked absently, tearing her mind away from those memories.
Talking about Donna brought everything back so clearly. She could remember
everything, the beauty of her smile, the smell of smoke in the air, the chatter
around her that seemed so completely drowned out by a few soft words...
"You said she had graduated from university. What did she study?"
"Oh... um... English, I think?"
"You think?"
"English Literature."
"Ah." There was a world of contempt in that sound. "I see. Was she particularly
insightful, do you think?"
"I'm not..." Yes, she was. Donna had known so much. She had always seemed to
know what Meg had been thinking. Always. "Yes," Meg said. "Yes, she was."
"Ah. Well, carry on. I'm listening avidly."
----------
It was called the Power Point, a place that Meg had never heard of. ("Isn't that
the name of a computer program?" she had asked, and Donna had laughed.)
Donna was clearly known there. There was no queue outside, and the two of them
breezed in through a dark hallway. Donna paid for them both to get in.
Meg wasn't sure what to expect, but it both was, and wasn't, what she found.
On one level, The Power Point could be seen as a generic nightclub. There were
two large rooms playing different types of music (gothic metal in one, more
classic dance in the other) each of which had a bar and a large dancing area.
There were several smaller rooms, generally quieter, with people just sitting
around and talking. The drinks sold were just the sort of drinks Meg would
expect to find in a normal nightclub, and at roughly the same sort of prices.
So far, so normal.
Except that all the guests were women. Slightly unusual. And all of them were
dressed...
Donna's red dress just about fitted in. It gave her a goth seductress type look,
particularly when combined with her jewellery. Meg's low cut halter top and
skirt did not fit in at all.
She saw women wearing skin-tight leather, transparent swathes of fabric,
strategically placed straps of leather, lingerie. More than one woman was
bare-breasted. Several wore hoods completely covering their heads.
Meg half-wished she had a hood herself as she looked around. She was blushing.
She had to be.
"First time here?" Donna asked casually. Meg could only nod dumbly. Two women
were walking past them, one on her knees, being lead by a long leash.
"They have theme nights sometimes, just like most places. They had a nurses
night last week. That was fun."
"You... come here a lot?"
"It's the only place in town I like. Come on, I'll get the drinks."
It was lucky Meg was already feeling slightly light-headed, otherwise she would
probably have run from this place screaming. It was all so overwhelming. To see
so many people wandering around half-naked, blatantly unashamed of what they
did...
A woman wandered past, tall and amazon in stature, wearing just a long T-shirt
with an arrow pointing down, and the words 'It Ain't Gonna Lick Itself.'
It was hot in here. Meg fanned herself, uncomfortably aware that the heat was
coming from inside of her.
Donna bought the drinks, bantering lightly with the barmaid. Meg only overheard
a few words, but she did catch a reference to Donna's 'vanilla friend'. Meg
then followed the redhead out to a small room, much quieter and fortunately
empty.
"You had a rabbit caught in the headlights sort of look," Donna said, as they
sat down. "I like it. It's nice."
"Thank you," Meg whispered, barely inaudibly.
Donna laughed. "Want a word of advice? Calm down a little. Nothing's going to
happen to you here. Well, unless you want something to."
"I don't... stand out?" That had always been one of her biggest fears. Far
better to be anonymous, to go unnoticed, anything but attract attention. In a
regular nightclub, she would have blended in perfectly. But here...
"Maybe a little," Donna conceded. She took a sip of her drink. "There aren't
many others here as sexy as you are."
Time froze for Meg at that point. To have this gorgeous and confident woman call
her sexy... It wasn't some sort of joke, was it? Some trick? She looked at
Donna, and saw no deception at all in her bearing. Why would she lie about
something like that?
But then would someone as beautiful as her really think Meg was sexy?
In a bid to calm herself, the shaking girl looked around. There were strange
things on the walls and ceiling. It was hard to see in the dark, but...
"What is this place?" she breathed.
Donna raised an eyebrow. "It's a fetish club. An all-girl club, at that. It's
not a proper fetish night tonight, but they leave most of the props out anyway.
You should come along on a special night. They pump dry ice into the place, and
keep the lighting moody and mysterious, and increase the volume and everyone can
hear everything." She took another sip. "Very nice." And another one. "Do you
really not know how sexy you are?"
That last remark slipped by Meg at first. It was only with the silence that
indicated Donna was expecting a reply, that she started.
"What?"
"Shyness is cool. I like a bit of shyness in a girl. But there are limits.
There's a place where it stops being endearing and cute and becomes low
self-esteem. Do you get me?"
Meg shook her head. She really didn't.
Donna sighed. "Look. I know I only met you tonight, but I like to think I'm a
good judge of character, and if I didn't think you were a little bit special, I
wouldn't have asked you here. Whatever some people might say about me, I don't
hang around in pubs looking for straight girls to pervert and corrupt and do
horrible things to. I saw you there and you looked... I don't know. Special. And
lonely. And shy.
"Now maybe it's just that you're in a strange place, and you're pissed off
because your friends didn't show up, or maybe it's that time of the month,
although I really hope not. Maybe you're just surprised by this whole place, or
are adjusting to coming out, or whatever...
"Or maybe, you really do think you're nothing special. Maybe you've been told
all along that you're nothing and the best thing you can do is stay out of the
way, be unobtrusive. Maybe you've got brothers or sisters who were always the
special one in the family. Maybe your parents weren't terribly supportive,
something like that.
"The first is understandable. The second... that's sad. And a waste. I hate to
see potential for anything go to waste, and I can see you deserve a hell of a
lot more than being stuck in the shadows while lesser people get all the glory.
"Do you get me?"
Meg was still, and silent, unable to take that in. Did she really...? How could
she...?
"I'm better off where... I... am..."
"Oh, for the..." Donna reached out, took the drink from Meg's hand and set it
down. "Allow me to prove it to you. But first, here's a choice. Do you want to
leave? I'll call you a taxi to get you home if you like."
Meg still said nothing. She could not speak.
"Good. Then do what I tell you. Take your top off."
What?
"I told you to do something," Donna said, her voice low and dangerous.
That was the Mistress-voice. The same one Meg had heard from Miss Young. The
same one she had been hearing and responding to her entire life. It had been
used on her by her mother, her aunts, her elder sister, her teachers, her
bosses, everyone. She had gotten so used to obeying instantly... Obedience had
been engrained into her.
Small wonder she had come to associate sex with submission.
Meekly, she obeyed, sliding the halter up over her head and dropping it onto the
sofa. She had chosen not to wear a bra, and she now sat there, bare-breasted
before Donna. Meg's breasts were smaller than Donna's. Once they had been a
small C cup, but she had dieted since then, lost a lot of weight, and they were
now just B's.
Donna reached out to caress her. Meg bit her lip. Her nipples began to harden.
"Come with me," Donna ordered.
Again, Meg obeyed. She had no choice.
Donna led her out into the hallway between the two dance rooms. The competing
music was loud, each song rising and falling in Meg's ears, a near cacophony of
sound from two types of music she didn't really like all that much.
She hadn't noticed before, but the walls here featured manacles as well, set
about seven feet off the floor. Donna pushed her back against the wall, and
reached up for the chains.
Meg did not resist as Donna clipped the shackles around her wrists. There were
cold, metal, but padded inside. It was not uncomfortable. In fact, it felt
right, natural. It always had. It was much easier to be bound and helpless.
"You are wearing panties, aren't you?"
Blushing at the intimacy of the question, Meg nodded. She had only stopped
wearing a bra to go out because a previous one-night stand had hated the way the
straps showed on her shoulders.
"Good." Donna then pulled Meg's skirt down from her waist, leaving it around her
ankles.
Meg was wearing panties, but they were skimpy and lacey. She had bought them for
this night, hoping Susanna would get to see them. Wisps of her pubic hair
showed around the edges.
Donna stood very close to her then, her body pressing hard against Meg's own.
Her head tilted downwards, she spoke very quietly to the young girl.
"This place is full of women," Donna whispered. "There are probably at least two
to three hundred here. You've seen them. You know how many of them are
attractive, or made an effort to look attractive.
"I'll be back to let you out in half an hour. See what kind of attention you
get, and then tell me no one could think you are sexy."
Donna stepped back. "Unless you want me to let you out now. Three..." Meg did
want her to. She couldn't bear the thought of standing out here like this,
practically naked, for anyone to see.
"Two..."
The shame of it... But it excited her as well. Could people really think she was
attractive? Coul these sorts of women think she was sexy?
"One..."
No! Let me out!
But she dare not say it. Not to Donna. Her Mistress had commanded, and she could
have to obey.
It was all that she was good for.
"I'll see you later, then," Donna said, walking away with a wiggle of her hips.
At first, Meg was too afraid to do or say anything, even to think. She closed
her eyes, and kept them closed for as long as she could, hoping that no one
would ever notice she was there. Why would they anyway?
A few people walked past the place of her confinement. Some were crossing
between rooms, others making for the toilets. A few were leaving early. Meg
heard some remarks clearly aimed in her direction, but she closed her eyes even
harder.
"Little vanilla girl," she heard more than once. Meg did not know what 'vanilla'
meant, but it had the feel of an insult.
It was the feel of a hard pinch on one of her nipples that forced her to open
her eyes with a startled yelp.
A woman was standing before her, tall and arrogant looking, in her early to mid
thirties, dressed in a tight PVC bodice and skirt.
"I haven't seen you before," she said, her long-nailed fingers still rubbing at
Meg's nipple. "No offence, honey, but you don't look the sort to come to a place
like this. Looking for a bit of a thrill, were you?"
Meg tried to reply, but could only elicit a muted squeak. Goose bumps were
beginning to rise across her body. It was not terribly warm here, but her
trembling had nothing to do with the cold.
"Just another vanilla good-time girl looking into the seedy side of life, hmm?"
She pinched harder, and Meg cried out. The woman pressed herself against Meg's
nearly naked body, rubbing herself softly.
"No collar, no leash, no mark, nothing. No one owns you, sweetie. That makes you
common property."
"No, please..." Meg finally managed to speak, but the words were so quiet she
doubted the woman heard them.
Slowly, the woman slid her free hand down Meg's belly, across her waist, gliding
around the edges of her lacey panties...
Meg's breath became harsh, raking gasps.
The woman tilted her head, brushing her lips against Meg's...
Then she pulled back. "I have a slave girl, hon. I don't need another, least of
all some thrill seeker like you. Come and find me when you're ready to be a
proper little sub, and then we'll talk." With a laugh, she walked away.
Meg was still shaking, her body still tense and taut, bumps raised across her
skin. More people passed through after that. Most of them looked at her. Some no
more than a fleeting glance, but others gave her lingering gazes, running their
eyes up and down her lasciviously.
A few tried to speak to her, to ask her questions, but she couldn't find her
voice to answer. Some gave her wolf-whistles that she would expect from a group
of builders.
She was called various names, including 'sexy', 'sweetling', 'honey', 'slut',
'whore', 'gorgeous'...
She might have expected this behaviour from men. She knew they would stare at
anything in a skirt, regardless of how attractive they were, but there were no
men here. Just women, and more and more of them spent time ogling Meg.
Part of her was ashamed. To be seen like this! Bare-breasted, her skirt around
her ankles, wearing the skimpiest of panties... She had only had five sexual
partners in her whole life, and only one for more than one night. In the space
of twenty or so minutes, she had been seen practically naked by four times that
number of people.
But another part, the same part of her that had responded so well to Miss
Young's autocratic commands...
There was something there.
She didn't know any of these people. They didn't know her. Each of them thought
she was something, came to their own conclusions about her, but none of them
knew her. So what matter what they saw of her?
After quite a while, another woman was chained to the shackles just opposite
Meg. She had a wonderfully curvy figure, and a long mane of blond hair. She was
naked save for a collection of leather straps that emphasised rather than
concealed her figure. In places, they dug sharply into her skin. She was quite a
bit shorter than Meg, and her Mistress had shortened the chains by some
mechanism, leaving her balancing very precariously by her tiptoes.
She looked at Meg and smiled. "You're a new one," she panted. "Don't think I've
seen you here before."
"It's my... first time..." Meg said. Her arms were aching, and she was still
cold, but she had started to get used to her position by now. A number of
thoughts had been running through her mind for a while.
"Thought so. Who brought you here?"
"Donna."
"Oh, yeah. I know her. Nice girl. You her latest, then?"
"Her latest what?"
"Oh, she's had a little... bad luck with women. Had trouble finding the right
person. Me, I was lucky. Found a good Mistress not long after I realised what I
was."
"Is she the woman who put you there?"
"I spilled her drink." A wide smile rose across the woman's face. "Now, wasn't
that careless of me?"
"Doesn't that hurt?" The straps must be digging into her, not to mention the
awkward way she was standing.
"Yeah, but it's a good pain. Physical pain isn't so bad. I like it. Better to be
whipped and tied up by a woman who loves you than taken for granted by someone
who doesn't."
"Yes..." Meg breathed. "I... I guess..."
"Donna's a nice one. Better than some. Look after her, won't you?"
"What?" Meg look after her? But...
The blond laughed. "Trust me. The dommes wouldn't last five minutes without us
to look after them. We need them, sure, but they need us more. A good slave
isn't easy to find."
"Hello, Angel," said a familiar voice, and Meg stiffened. Donna walked casually
into view, Meg's halter tossed casually over one shoulder. "Have you been bad
again?"
"Always, Mistress."
"Are you meant to be talking?"
"If Mistress didn't want me to speak, she should have gagged me. Or she can
punish me later. I've been talking with your new girl."
"Ah, yes." Meg could feel Donna look at her. It was an intense gaze, for all the
seeming casualness of Donna's bearing. Looking to see if she was any different,
if she had been changed by her experiences, if Donna had been proved right.
The truth was, Meg wasn't sure... not yet. She was embarrassed and ashamed and
terrified, but she was also a little bit excited as well. To be so brazenly on
display like that, to have had so many people take notice in an environment full
of gorgeous woman as open for display as she was...
Donna ran a hand across Meg's cheek slowly. "Are you ready to come down now,
sweetie?" she asked.
Meg nodded, panting.
"Did you enjoy yourself?"
Again, Meg nodded.
Donna leaned in very close, the heat of her body warming Meg delightfully. "What
do you want me to do now?" she asked. "I could let you go, get you a taxi back
to your place, chalk this up as an experience for both of us and move on. What
do you want?"
"Whatever you do, Mistress," Meg breathed, huskily.
Donna smiled, her full red lips forming a wonderful feline grin.
"Let's go to my place," she purred.
Next: Meeting Donna II
