Page 71 of XX Love Affair
“We start in five minutes. Even though the members will only see the two of us, you’re still a part of it.”
“Am I, now?”
Delia opened her palm to see the remote control dropped into it. “I don’t have to tell you what that is, do I?” Mira asked.
“Whitfield, dear, I have no idea which stereo this belongs to.” She was facetious, but Delia loved the look on Mira’s face when she heard that.
“I gave your girlfriend something special to put somewhere in her body. You get to turn it on, any setting, whenever you desire.”
“Oh, do I?”
Mira was already ignoring her. “Enjoy the show, Benoist. We’re going live.”
Blair held a finger to her lips as the lights dimmed and Mira sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and back straight as she aimed her fierce demeanor at the camera. This was a normal Saturday night for her, wasn’t it? How many times has she done this song and dance now? Delia was impressed. Seeing a new side of her biggest rival from yesteryears was almost as much fun as watching her girlfriend participate in a dream come true.
“Good evening, everyone,” Mira began once she was live. “I again welcome you to the new and improved home of me, Mistress Misty. I have a very special guest tonight with a very special plan for everyone out there in the world. Whether you’re a long-time voyeur or a first-time fan, allow me to introduce you to my new friend, Elly.”
It was the moniker Mira had given Helena when they realized she needed a stage name. Pulled out of her metaphorical hat. The only rules were that it had to be short, feminine, and easy to remember. Preferably, a name that Helena had no emotional associations with, although Delia had a feeling her girlfriend would see it as a challenge.
And I see it as a potential for a good time… As long as they followed the core tenets of safe, sane, and consensual tonight, both Helena and Delia were due for more fun than they’d know what to do with.
Mira told Helena to lie down on the marked spot on the bed. Blair pulled her blanket over her lap and rubbed her temple, courting a run-of-the-mill period headache. Delia leaned forward, careful to not make a sound while the remote warmed up in her hand.
The show began.
Chapter 22
Was it possible for a woman to delight and surprise Delia as much as Helena did?
She knew her girlfriend would be a great performer. What she didn’t expect was how much she enjoyed the show from the purveyor’s corner. Even when Blair closed her eyes and dozed off, already so jaded by what this room had to offer, Delia was engrossed by what a professional brought to Helena’s first experience on the other side of the camera.
Even before Helena heard about this idea, Mira and Delia had talked at length about what would suit the former’s show without offending the latter’s relationship. “Something that puts her in the center of the action, of course,” Delia had suggested, “but doesn’t leave any room to mistake you as her Mistress. You’re an orchestrator for her pleasure.”
Mira had delivered. Her voice was a constant on the camera, but she sat off to the side, only in full view of the women on the loveseat. In one hand was a crop and in the other was a checklist of things she wanted to incorporate into the show. Blair had told Delia that Mira always kept a “reminder list” to ensure there was no dead time in these hour-long shows. There was always something sultry to say. Something to caress. Someone to pleasure.
Helena wasn’t shy about showing off her body to a bunch of strangers. That much had been established whenever they were in a club or attending a party that had a “clothing optional” policy. Nobody looked twice at Delia, who was the dominant one in the relationship. But Helena? She was the life of a party – once she deigned to speak to somebody.
Schrodinger’s Girlfriend: Simultaneously Enviable and a Big Bitch.
The special treat for the viewers wasn’t the new guest they had never seen before. It was the add-on app Mira enacted in her chat. Her subscribers were welcomed to vote on what next happened to “Elly,” based on a preselected list Mira rotated through whenever she used the app and the requests DM’d to her by her highest tier of subscribers. She knew what wasn’t allowed by Delia, or Helena for that matter. So any requests for “fuck her in the ass” or “make her shoulders welt” would go unheeded.
This wasn’t that kind of show, anyway. Helena was the posable doll who showed her humanity through the coquettish expression on the uncovered part of her face. Her hair was neatly tucked beneath or behind her for most of the show, but any discerning eye who had seen her naked before would recognize the circle of moles on her left inner thigh or the tiny splotch of a birthmark on the small of her back. People not likely to talk or hold it against her, I suspect. No, the people they had to avoid were those who might recognize her fantastical natural hair or the unique way her eyes slanted toward her ears. Things Delia had picked up easily after three months of entertaining and being pleased by the co-ed from the West Coast.
She bloomed in front of the camera, in front of the hungry eyes of strangers who ate her up like the heaviest main course they had enjoyed in years. She was the oasis in a sandy desert, the oppressive heat of the sun threatening to down anyone who dared to cross the shortest distance between two metropolitan zones. She made Delia rethink what it might be like to settle down with someone who knew how to blow her mind every time they spoke.
Delia no longer saw a co-ed who still had a lot to learn with plenty of room to mature into the fully-fledged woman she was destined to be. She saw someone who was exactly where she needed to be on her journey of healing and self-fulfilling pleasure.
Helena Pierce was not afraid to get what she asked for, and she hadn’t asked for much. Respect from the people she opens herself up to. There was no reason to believe the audience didn’t respect her for putting herself on Mira’s bed and touching herself where told. She didn’t have to be told to look into the camera at a pivotal moment, nor did she fight Mira the same way her natural, bratty tendencies told her to when with Delia. I do love a good brat… a good power bottom who doesn’t take my shit… After three months, they had fallen into a desirable groove that left neither of them unhappy in the morning. Even when Helena was taking control when pinned beneath Delia’s body, or Delia wasn’t in the mood for Helena’s games.
Would it be so bad?
Would it be so bad to fall in love with someone like her?
She wasn’t a unicorn. She was a human with her traumas, pains, and misunderstandings toward her past self. There was a kid inside of Helena who desperately cried out for someone to listen to her and understand why she was the way she was. She didn’t want advice. She didn’t need condescending attitudes from people older than her. What Helena needed was an empathetic ear who would see her for the grown woman she was, youthful, still immature warts and all.
Even Delia had been underestimating her all this time. While she still held firm that Helena shouldn’t be doing anything that could screw up her academic or career possibilities while she had it, she had to admit… the young woman was very much at home in this environment, as she had been when Delia first met her.
Maybe it wasn’t love she felt… but it was something. Something that would take her to love if she followed it long enough.