Eye of the Beholder (MF, rom, bdsm, semiotics)(6/10)

XII.

I didn't actually finish that section until the end of the next week, 
during which Danielle continued to pester me about it.  I talked to her 
every night online, and though we often discussed BDSM, I felt like the 
key element was still escaping my grasp.  I finally sent her the next 
chapter late Thursday night.    

We went out again on Friday, during which I confessed my problem in 
getting at the heart of BDSM.  I gave her a thumbnail sketch of 
semiotics and explained what I was trying to do with Elizabeth's story.

* * *

"So the idea is that words have different meanings depending on the 
context?  What's so complicated about that?"

"It's more than that.  It's the concept that language is a form of 
cultural coding.  Every word has at least two different meanings: the 
dictionary definition, or denotation, and the cultural definition, the 
connotation.  They're rarely if ever exactly the same.  And between two 
different cultures, you may have two different connotations.  What the 
work says to one culture may be very different from what it says to 
another culture.  It's not that one culture understands the work and 
one doesn't, it's that the words are saying two different things to 
each group.  Who's to say what the correct meaning is?  It's surprising 
how few people truly understand that."

"And these key words you're talking about--" 

"Signifiers."

"--are part of the coding?"

"Right.  And ultimately, my thesis is going to be this kind of 
analysis, of the different forms of BDSM erotica I've been able to 
find."

She shook her head, laughing.

"Okay.  Whatever you say.  I just keep thinking how you're being so 
scientific with something that's just good fun to me."

I couldn't help smiling.

"It's maybe not as dry as I'm making it sound.  The act of 
deconstruction can be erotic if you let it be."

An eyebrow went up.

"Really?  How?"

"This will require another involved explanation."

"Go for it."

"There's a book I studied last quarter, called 'Le Plasir de Texte.'"

"It's French?"

"A translation.  The author is French.  He discusses what he sees as 
the two different types of texts.  The readerly, which is basically a 
work that is relatively straightforward and understandable, and the 
writerly, which requires much more effort from the reader, almost to 
the point of making the reader a producer of the text.  These two types 
of text produce two different types of reading pleasure."

"The 'Plasir de Texte?'"

"Right.  The first is simple pleasure, akin to eating a meal.  The 
other is more difficult to translate; he refers to it as 'jouissance,' 
and it's much more of a sexual pleasure.  It comes at the moment when 
the text is most difficult, where it breaks down and requires the most 
effort from the reader.  He compares these gaps to the gaps in a 
garment, and they function in the same way that a few carefully 
arranged bits of clothing can be far more erotic than simple nudity."

"Huh.  That actually makes sense."

"So to me, my previous girlfriend, who only liked making out in the 
dark, would be a readerly text.  You, with all your fetish gear and 
tattoos and piercings, are a writerly text."

She grinned.

"And you're preparing to deconstruct me, is that it?"

"Maybe."

"We'll see about that, professor."

* * *

She invited me up when we got back.

"You know, I never asked who it is you live with here."

"My roommate Todd.  He goes out a lot, which why you haven't seen him."

"Todd?"

She smiled.

"Jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"No.  He's gay."

"Is he kinky too?  Is there even such a thing as gay kink?"

"Plenty of it.  But Todd is annoyingly vanilla.  I tease him about it 
all the time."

"He knows about you?"

"Yeah.  He thinks it's funny."

She took me back to her room to show me her collection of erotica.  
Only a few of the books were anything I had heard of.  I flipped 
through a couple as she sat on the bed watching.

"See anything you like?"

"Maybe.  But I'd like to get that story done first."

"I can't wait to see what's going to happen."

"Me neither."

She slid down to the floor next to me, sitting on her knees.  We stared 
at each other for a moment or two.  She smiled.

"Wanna see my other tattoos?"

I returned her smile for a moment, then leaned forward and kissed her.  
She put her arms on my waist and leaned back against the bed.  She 
stopped again a moment later to free her long hair, pulling it up and 
laying it on the bed behind her.  I reached back and played with it as 
I kissed her.  I didn't think she was a natural blonde--her eye color 
kind of betrayed that fact--but her hair was still very nice, thick and 
straight and easy to get lost in.

I felt her hand on my waist, gripping my shirt and twisting the fabric 
slowly.  As we continued kissing, it moved upward, and she started 
playing with my nipple through the cloth.  Taking that as a cue, I 
moved the hand at my side up her abdomen, pausing for a second below 
her breast in case I was misreading her.  She didn't stop me.

I cupped her right breast in my hand, feeling the weight.  It was just 
short of a handful and very firm, but what I noticed immediately was 
something hard under the fabric, and it wasn't her nipple.  I explored 
with my fingers, finding a little circular form at the center.

She giggled again.

"The other piercings you asked about."

I reached for her other breast, finding another ring through her left 
nipple, and feeling an enormous thrill coursing through me.  I really, 
really wanted to see this now, but I figured I had to wait a bit.  I 
explored some more, playing with her nipples and the rings through the 
fabric of her T-shirt and bra.  She let me, and responded by pulling my 
shirt out of my jeans and feeling under it a little, dragging her nails 
over my back.

I waited another minute before doing the same thing to her.  I reached 
up under her top, finding a satin bra under it.  The bra had a front 
catch, and I moved my fingers to it, pausing again in case she wanted 
to stop me.  As I expected, she didn't.  I twisted the catch between my 
thumb and forefinger, and it popped open.  I slid my hand under her 
bra, feeling the firm, warm flesh of her breast.

The rings through her now-erect nipples were not very large, maybe 
three-eighths of an inch across.  They seemed to be about the same size 
as her navel ring.  I reached down to check and decided that they were 
probably a matching set.

She let me play with her breasts for a few minutes before pulling back.

"Want to see the tattoo?"

"Where is it?"

She pulled off her top and bra together.  What I saw then--beside that 
I had been right about her nipple rings--was an ornate rose, complete 
with thorny stem, on her left breast.  It started toward the top of her 
breast, at about the 2 o'clock position above her nipple, and curled 
around toward the bottom.

"Like it?"

"Wow.  Yeah."

She had pretty enough breasts as it was, but all this ornamentation was 
something else.

"That must have hurt."

"It did.  But it was worth it.  The rings hurt a lot worse."

She pulled me back toward her and we resumed kissing.  About a minute 
later, I pulled back.

"Sit up on the edge of the bed."

She did.  I scooted closer, wanting a better look at her breasts.  She 
just smiled at me and rested her hands on my shoulders.

"Don't be afraid of the rings.  It doesn't hurt if you play with them.  
It feels good."

I tried to comply, working on both at once, twisting and pulling on 
them.  After a few moments of this, she put her hand on the back of my 
head and pulled me closer.  Getting the message, I lowered my mouth to 
her breasts.

I worked the rings around with my tongue, moving back and forth between 
her breasts every few seconds.  She stopped me to pull my shirt off but 
then let me go back to work.

She was soon sighing and twisting slowly on the bed in front of me.  
Her nails moved up and down my back, dragging trails along my spine.

She pulled my head up now and resumed kissing me.  I returned my hands 
to her damp nipples and played with them for a few seconds.  Then she 
withdrew.

"I've got a few more things to show you, if you want to see them."

I struggled with myself for a moment.

"Are you sure you want to do this this soon?"

She leaned back a little and looked at me.

"Well . . . this is technically our fourth date, right?  We don't have 
to if you don't want to.  But I don't want to stop just yet, okay?"

"Okay.  Don't worry about it."

"Should I save some surprises for next time?"

"I think I have an idea what you're hiding now."

She smiled.

"Sure you don't want to see it?"

"Just out of curiosity."

"Purely scientific interest."

"Right."

She lifted herself off the bed and moved around in front of me.  She 
took my hands and put them on the waist of her jeans.  I unbuttoned the 
fly and slid them down.  Under her jeans, she wore relatively simple 
black cotton panties.  When she stepped out of her jeans, I slid my 
hands back up her thighs.  She held out the waist of her panties on 
both sides, allowing me to hook my fingers under them.  Taking a deep 
breath and trying to stifle my nervousness, I pulled them down.

Her pubic hair was shaved--or waxed maybe; the skin looked very smooth-
-but that was only one of the surprises.  On her right side, about an 
inch or so below her bikini line, was a tattoo of a heart, around which 
were wrapped a pair of manacles.  And, as I also expected, out from 
between her pubic lips peeked yet another silver ring, pierced right 
through her clitoris.

"What do you think?"

I had to catch my breath for a moment.

"Nice."

"And one more."

She turned around, showing me her butt.  At the top, just below the 
small of her back, was another tattoo, this one a bird in flight, its 
wings spreading out in both directions.

"There's a scheme to this, isn't there?  To all these tattoos."

She laughed.

"You're just so analytical tonight.  But yes.  Can you guess what it 
is?"

"Okay.  The rune we've done.  'Slave.'  That's one people are likely to 
see no matter what you're doing, so I'm guessing it's just meant as 
some identifying badge, as a sign to people who know what to look for 
about what you're into."

"Good.  Keep going."

"The rose.  Let's see."

I stared at it for a moment, realizing it looked familiar.

"Beauty.  Both in the abstract sense and as a reference to the Anne 
Rice books."

She nodded, impressed.

"Two for two."

"But that's also something you might show to someone who hadn't gotten 
very close to you.  Something you might expose at Club Fuck now and 
then.  So it's also another badge, though a more intimate one."

"Right."

"Okay.  The heart.  That's easy.  Love, right?"

"Right."

"But the manacles are a reference to your particular fetish.  Like you 
can't love someone whom you didn't also want to submit to.  In a 
fantasy sense, of course."

"Right, but there's more.  Can you guess?"

I stared at the tattoo again.  It took me a second or two to catch it.

"The manacles are open.  Does that mean something?"

Her eyebrows went up a little.

"Yes.  You're a very perceptive boy."

"Does it mean you haven't yet met this person?"

She smiled.

"Yep."

"And it's down here because it's not something you'd say to just 
anyone."

She turned around again.

"And the last one?"

I had to think for a minute. Birds, birds flying.  What might that 
mean?

"Freedom?  Independence?"

"And why is it where it is?"

Good question.  I thought for a few moments.  A symbol of freedom to 
someone.  Who would need to see that when they were also looking at her 
butt?  Put that way, the answer was suddenly obvious.

"It's a reminder.  A reminder to someone who's spanking you."

Her jaw dropped slightly, and she didn't answer me right away.

"A reminder of what?"

"That you're still a free person?  One last little bit of resistance 
that you can't let go of no matter what else you do?"

She laughed in disbelief, eyebrows going up.

"Wow.  Am I that transparent?"

"No.  I guess all this talk about signifiers is getting me thinking.  
And I've been listening to the things you've been telling me."

She straddled me, dropping to her knees and sitting on my legs.  She 
smiled.

"Will you listen to one more thing, then?  This signifier should be 
pretty easy to decipher."

"What?"

"Fuck me."

She caught me by surprise, and it took a second or two for that to sink 
in.  But she hadn't waited for an answer anyway and leaned forward to 
kiss me.  I returned the kiss, fondling her body as she sat in my lap.  
She reached down, unzipping my jeans and digging into them.  I pushed 
her back and scooted up on the bed.  She followed me, taking my pants 
down as she went, and we were soon naked together.

I spent a while just examining her up close, both the tattoos and the 
piercings.  She lay back on the bed as I did, bemused.  What I 
examined, I kissed and played with, and I was soon down between her 
legs running my tongue over her smooth lips and clit ring.  I sucked it 
into my mouth, pulling on it gently with my teeth.  She let me, just 
digging her nails into my hair.  I developed a rhythm with it, working 
it up and down, flipping it back and forth.  She rolled her hips under 
me, very slowly, but otherwise did nothing but moan softly under my 
attentions.

This was such a new experience that I lost myself in her for a while.  
I tried all the things I could think of to do with her clit ring, so I 
was actually startled when she suddenly let out a squeak, gripped my 
head in her hands, and began to bounce her hips at my face.  I held on, 
not stopping as she shuddered into orgasm.  As it peaked, she went 
completely rigid, holding me against her with a vice-grip as I attacked 
her mercilessly.  Then, with a final cry, she pushed me away and melted 
back into the bed, gasping for breath.

I kissed around her abdomen as she twitched in the aftermath.  Inch by 
inch, I moved back down, and she kept her hands on my head.  When I 
reached the spot at issue, I went back to work very slowly and gently.  
Her breathing began to speed up, and her hips started rolling with me 
again.  As she moved faster, so did I.  Soon she was thrusting herself 
up at my mouth rapidly, whimpering with the sensations.  I gave her 
everything I had at that point, and it was a matter of seconds before 
she was coming again.  This time she almost screeched when it peaked, 
and convulsed under me like an epileptic.  After that, I slid up to lie 
next to her.

She lay as if dead for about a minute before rolling over against me.

"That ring seems to make a difference."

She laughed softly.

"Some.  But that was mostly you."

She slid up to kiss me briefly, trying to taste herself in my mouth, 
then slid down and began sucking my nipples.  While she did, she 
reached down to play with my penis, stroking and tweaking it gently.  

She climbed over me, kissing her way down until she was directly over 
my erection. She extended her tongue, licking up the entire length.  I 
could feel the stud in her tongue, and she worked it back and forth as 
she went.

She looked up at me, grinning.

"Like that?"

"God, yes."

She took most of it in her mouth, holding it at the back of her throat 
as she rubbed the stud against the underside.  All I could do was groan 
and grip her hair in my hands.  She sucked on it and withdrew, keeping 
her tongue tight against me.  Up and down she went, a steady rhythm, 
all the while working her tongue and its stud back and forth.  With her 
free hand, she played with my balls gently, pulling on them and 
dragging her nails against them.  

Under such expert attentions, I quickly lost a grip on my control.  I 
didn't want to stop her, but I needed something to distract me.  I 
reached down for her, trying to pull her up so I could work on her at 
the same time.

She pulled back, grinning.

"What?"

"Swing around up here."

She smiled for a second, then looked down at the bed.

"There's another way we could do that, if you want to try it.  You 
might enjoy this way more."

"How?"

"I'll hang my head off the bed.  You stand over me and do what you 
want."

I saw what she meant and slid off the bed.  She lay on her back and 
hung her head off the end.  I approached her, and she took my erection 
in her hands, guiding me back into her mouth.  Then I leaned over her, 
lowering my head between her legs.  I thrust forward gingerly, waiting 
for her to stop me.  I got to the back of her throat and withdrew.

I felt as if I were making love to her, except the ends were reversed.  
I could take her buttocks in her hands and lick her as I thrust into 
her mouth.  On my next thrust, she stopped my withdrawal and instead 
urged me further forward.  I pushed a little, not wanting to gag her, 
but she continued pulling me in.  Suddenly realizing what she wanted me 
to do, I had to pause for a second to regain my composure, which wasn't 
easy.

I thrust forward gently, feeling myself sliding into her throat.  Bit 
by bit I went, until I felt her nose against my balls.  She pushed me 
back now, and I withdrew as far as she let me.  Then she pulled me 
forward again.

Losing myself in this new experience, I bent further forward and sucked 
on her clitoris, thrusting gently in and out of her throat as I did.  
She guided me into a rhythm she seemed comfortable with, and once 
again, I realized I was about to come.

I tried to stop, but she wouldn't let me--instead she urged me forward.  
With a few barely restrained thrusts, I squirted off down her throat.  
I withdrew as soon as I could, but she held on, sucking me for a bit 
longer once I was back far enough for her to breath.  When she let me 
go, I crawled forward and collapsed on the bed.

She sat up, grinning.

"Did you like that?"

I groaned.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Girl Scouts."

She flopped next to me.

"I'm sorry," I said.  "I didn't want to come that quickly."

She smiled.

"You got me off, I get you off.  What's wrong with that?  We have all 
night."

"Okay.  Where did you learn that, though?"

"I learned it on my own.  I've been doing it for a long time."

I laughed softly.

"Now you've got me worried about the rest of this."

"It's too late to escape now, sorry."

She snuggled against me, and we spent a while kissing and cuddling.  I 
couldn't get enough of her breasts, both because of their decorations 
and the wonderful shape and firmness.  She hung herself above me, 
letting me lick and suck on them for about five or ten minutes.  I 
pulled her up to lick at her again, but she stopped me before I got her 
off.  She turned around and took my penis in her mouth, and soon 
produced another erection.  Then she dug a condom out of her nightstand 
and rolled it on.  With that taken care of, I pulled her up above me, 
and she sat back down, swallowing me inside her.

She rode me for a few minutes before rolling over.  Lying on top of 
her, I could feel her piercings pressing against me, both above and 
below.  She wrapped herself around me, and I kissed her again, 
penetrating her from both directions.  She pushed herself up at me, 
trying to get her clit ring rubbing against me.  A minute or two of 
that soon had her shuddering in orgasm, twitching and biting at my 
shoulder, moaning through her nose.

Having come once already, I was able to make love to her for a long, 
long time.  Finally she rolled on her stomach, putting a pillow under 
her, and stuck her butt back at me.  I bent over her as I thrust in, 
reaching around for her breasts.  She braced herself against the 
headboard and pushed backwards against me.  She rolled her firm 
buttocks under me as I rode her, and I realized she was rubbing her 
clit ring against the pillow.  The thought of that was enough to do it 
for me, and when I felt her coming yet again, I drove myself into her 
and came.

* * *

We lay together quietly for a while before she propped herself up on my 
chest.

"How you doing?" she asked.

"Wonderful."

"Me too.  It's been a while for you, hasn't it?"

"Yeah.  Six months maybe."

"I could tell."

I chuckled.

"Sorry.  Lack of control?"

"No.  I meant you were really getting into it, you know?  Paying 
attention to me and everything.  Not just getting off."

"Okay.  Well, I like you.  I wanted to get a good look at you."

She smiled.

"I like you, too."

She set her chin on her arm and stared at me.

"It doesn't bug you, what I did earlier?  Some guys get weird about a 
girl being too proficient at sex, you know?  Like it means she must 
have done it with ten thousand guys or something."

"Well, it was a surprise.  But not a bad one.  I mean, I knew you had 
some experience, given everything else about you."

"Okay.  But just so you know, I don't have that much experience.  I've 
only slept with seven guys as of tonight.  I just like sex.  I like 
experimenting with it."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

She looked at me for a few more moments, apparently trying to discern 
if I was telling the truth.

"The last guy I went out with started off like that, saying he didn't 
care.  But when I wanted to get kinky, he got all weird about it.  Like 
he wanted to do it, but didn't want to think that I had done it with 
anyone else."

"That's not really fair."

"No.  It drove me nuts.  I broke up with him because of it.  I wasn't 
going to stay with a guy who had that kind of attitude about me."

"I'll try.  That's all I can tell you."

"Okay."

She laid her head on my chest.  I rolled over a second later and took 
her into my arms.  She nuzzled her head against me.  I sniffed her 
hair, feeling my lust for her welling up again, even though I had just 
spent two hours making love with her.

"You turn me on," I whispered to her.  "Every little thing about you 
turns me on.  I can't imagine getting turned off by anything you do.  
Or did."

She giggled, snuggling against me.

"Thanks."

I held her for a long while before we fell asleep.