Gotcha Ch. 08

The plane ploughed on through the night. Wendy left Jen still tied to the armrests as she rolled over and went to sleep but, apart from a growing need to visit the toilet, Jen didn't mind, she let her mind go free, her thoughts ranging far and wide.

She spent most of the night thinking over the events of the trip. In pure business terms it had been a wild success; three new contracts and the renegotiation of a couple of others had meant that it had paid for itself several times over. On a more personal level it had helped cement Jen's role at Wendy's right hand. Increasingly she had proven her business worth and increasingly Wendy was entrusting her with inside information. If she were in a normal business relationship she would be asking for a raise when they got back. As it was she hoped that her improving status would improve her relationship with Wendy; she could never forget just how dependant she was on keeping in Wendy's good books. Although she was seeing more and more of Wendy's softer side she was well aware just how ruthless and determined Wendy could be if the occasion required it.

And that thought had led on to the far more complex subject of exactly what was the nature of her relationship with Wendy; what had started out as something pretty straightforward where Jen was no more than a plaything, a toy or some sort of pet, was getting more and more involved. There had always been two sides to Wendy; Jen thought of them and "nice Wendy" and "harsh Wendy" and this polarisation was growing. Recently Wendy had started inviting Jen to share her bed and, along with the physical passion, there was growing emotional closeness. However, harsh Wendy was never that far away and the mood could change in an instant. It wasn't so much the physical cruelty; it was a coldness, a lack of caring. Jen would go from close confidant to total stranger, from bed-mate to no mate, from loved to loathed. With a flash of insight Jen wondered if Wendy was scared by this closeness; all those years of one night stands, of purely physical sex with girls from the clubs, showed that Wendy was not used to letting anyone get too close to her and maybe the growing emotional bond between them was hard for her to deal with. Maybe this explained why she had turned to trixie time and time again; not because she wanted to hurt Jen but because sex with trixie was simple, uncomplicated, uninvolved. With a shake of her head Jen wondered if she was becoming too fanciful. The all-powerful Wendy scared of emotional closeness? Maybe, maybe not.

And that left the increasingly difficult subject of how Jen felt about Wendy, indeed, how she felt about her whole situation. The bitter resentment that had typified the start of her servitude was changing; sure, she still dreamed of being in control of her own life again, if only for an hour or two but there was another side to her, one that she was having to accept, that revelled in the attention she was getting, that loved being owned, that loved being part of something. Like Wendy she was not used to being close to anyone and, she realised that, up until now, her life had been a lonely one. Maybe she had been free but it had been a freedom to eat take-away pizzas on her own in her tiny flat. Now, and especially during the West Coast trip, she had felt very much part of the team, a real sense of belonging.

But it wasn't just the sense of belonging, there was something more fundamental that was changing in their growing relationship. The power imbalance was changing; more and more she was supplying a need in Wendy, a need that had never been completely met by the girls from the clubs, and, increasingly Wendy was becoming dependant on Jen to meet those needs. On a purely physical level Jen knew that her expertise between Wendy's thighs was unmatched, could never be matched by a stranger. Sure, a tart, a trollop, a floozie like trixie might be a skilled lover but no one but Jen knew Wendy's ways quite as well as she did, no one else was as expert in reading Wendy's body, in responding to the twists and turns of Wendy's sexual requirements.

But even that somehow missed the point. Her relationship with Wendy was being built on more than just sex and power. When Wendy praised her, either for a job well done or for skill with her tongue, her heart skipped a beat. At first this had been because pleasing Wendy meant less punishment, but now she wanted to please Wendy for its own reward. And Jen was sure this was mutual. At first, if Wendy had allowed Jen to reach orgasm, it had been to demonstrate her power over her, her ability to control Jen's pleasure; but nowadays, Wendy was returning Jen's caresses, their love making was more a give and take, and orgasms a shared experience.

Jen glanced over at Wendy, who was sleeping quietly. She smiled to herself, remembering how Wendy had comforted her the previous day and how she had tied and teased her on the flight. For all her thoughts, she still didn't really know how she felt but there was one thing for certain, it felt right to be at Wendy's side and that would do for now.