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Message-ID: <43773asstr$1060132208@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
MBOX-Line: From cyan@protgp.com  Tue Aug  5 13:19:02 2003
From: cyan@protgp.com
Subject: {ASSM} Story: Still Friends
Date: Tue,  5 Aug 2003 21:10:08 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Hi all,

Here is yet another story of mine for your reading enjoyment, my eighth
posted here.  My previously posted stories:

Any Time
Our Needs
Proper Result
Totally Crazy
True Nature
Learning Things
Separate Ideas

Enjoy!

-Cy
http://cyan.protgp.com/



Still Friends
by Cyan
Copyright 2003

I'd been lying there a while, in that weird state between sleep and
wakefulness.  It was morning, the sun was out.  Diane wasn't around.

It really was the first time Diane had left me alone in her apartment.
Things were going well between us and I'd begun to spend more and more
time at her place, and the thought crossed my mind that with her casual
acceptance of my presence even while she was away, we'd reached yet
another milestone.  Feeling lazy and having nothing pressing, I simply
lay there for some minutes.

What finally got me up was just a touch of curiosity.  On the shelf
in Diane's closet, which was sitting open, was a row of videotapes,
neatly boxed and labelled.  I'd certainly noticed the collection before,
but though I'd chosen not to be nosy about them, I couldn't help but
be curious, given the time we'd spent in that room.  So thinking a
little about how long Diane was likely to be out, I got up and took a
closer look.

On each one was a name and a date.  A first name, or more specifically
a male first name.  I looked at the row, about twenty five tapes or so.
I looked at the dates.  The first tape was dated about five years before.
I can't say when the thought first crossed my mind, I guess it's just
inevitable given the tapes were away from public view, were labeled
in that manner.  You just had to figure they could be something of an
especially *private* nature.

And yet knowing Diane, that didn't seem likely.  She was certainly a
sexual person, but the obvious devotion she'd shown me strongly suggested
a very traditional attitude toward relationships.  And despite my curious
nature, the thought occurred to me that if she *did* have an interesting
past that she kept quiet about, that it was her own business until she
chose to share it.  Despite what they say about me, I do have scruples.

But apparently not enough to suppress my curiosity that morning.
I'd made it to the kitchen and was looking to make some coffee when I
succumbed, returned, and considering again how long she was likely to
be out, took the first tape.  "James, 3/23/1998" it said.  Intrigued,
I put it in the VCR.

It began with a touch of shaking but soon it became clear that it was
Diane's bedroom.  "Right over here," said a voice.  Diane's voice.

A guy stepped into view.  He was tall, and fairly muscular.  There was
just a touch of laughter.  Diane's.  "OK," said Diane.  "Get undressed."

The guy looked a touch confused, but then smiled and said "Come here."
He spoke to someone out of the field of view, near the camera.
He grinned, and looked like he might come forward.

"In due time," said Diane.  "Go ahead, get undressed.  For me."

Grinning at her, he started undoing his shirt.  I turned it off.

I sat there, staring at the blank screen for a while, but then coming
to my senses, rewound the tape and replaced it.  It was pretty clear I'd
run into exactly what I'd suspected and I'd quickly found I didn't want
to see Diane with other guys.  I found myself thinking as I scrounged
a breakfast.  It was a fair number of tapes over the five or so years.
Each tape had a different name.  Not so many as to document her with
a different guys each night or anything like that, but several guys
per year.  If she spent two or three months with each guy, it would
about add up.  I thought about whether the guy was aware of the tape:
it seemed like he would be.  I admit the thought crossed my mind again
to watch more of it, but I realized on balance I certainly didn't want 
to.

When Diane returned, I did my best to act normal.  She'd been out running
with her friend Karen, at a park near Karen's place, something they
often did on Saturday mornings.  I found myself surreptitiously studying
her that morning as she joined me for breakfast and reading the paper.
She was no different than she had been, but having confirmed the content
of those tapes, I found myself thinking, wondering.  Did the tapes show
her to be someone I didn't know?  Which was the real Diane?  Or was I
making far too much of this?

Fortunately as time passed, my obsession subsided and I was able to
function normally.  And since Diane acted no different, I was able to
lay my doubts to rest: she was the same woman who'd gained my interest
three months earlier and who spent almost every evening with me.

It was when we had sex that night that the thoughts returned.  She was
her usual passionate self, seeming "into" me in a big way and as always,
it was a heady experience to share intimate times with her.  But 
afterward
as I lay there, I began to wonder if she was as enthusiastic with other
lovers.  Obviously this is a thought that could occur to me in any case,
but somehow, having seen the tapes and knowing they were there made me
dwell on the question.  Was it because I knew she'd had so many lovers?

I hadn't planned it, or at least not consciously.  Inevitably there was
another occasion when I hung out at her apartment when she was out, and
I swear I had not been "waiting for the opportunity" or any such thing,
but once I was there alone, the thought crossed my mind and I couldn't
escape it.  I got the tape again.

And watched again.  And it struck me as strange the way she asked him
to undress.  I didn't turn it off, and watched him proceed.  I thought
about fast forwarding.  "Aren't you going to join me?" the guy said.

"I *like* to watch you undress," she said.  It sounded so lewd, and I
couldn't recall a time when she'd taken any similar attitude with me.
Something about that bothered me, as if she were in some manner holding
back with me.  I remember feeling a little guilty about setting myself
up for such thoughts.  But I watched, even though all it showed was a guy
undressing.  "Good," came Diane's voice, as he got down to his underwear.
He looked at her questioningly, apparently feeling a little funny about
going further, or wondering whether she were ready to join him.  It was
a totally natural reaction.  "Go on," she said.

He grinned, and did so.  I'd half expected him to make a silly show of
it, but he just looked a little nervous.  "Well?" he said, now naked,
obviously expecting her to join him.

"Lie down on the bed," she said.

He looked at her curiously, but seemed to decide that one way or another,
things were proceeding, and did as she asked.  "On your stomach,"
she said.

"What?"

She moved closer, partially blocking the view.  "Come on now, on your
stomach, OK?"

I saw him roll over.  "Nice," she said.  "Now, put your hands behind
your neck."

He laughed just a touch, and I think he rolled to look at her.
"Go ahead," she said.  "Humor me, OK?"

"What *is* this?" he asked, as he did it.

"Good," she said.  It was funny the way her voice sounded as she said it,
she sounded completely sincere, as if she were very pleased.  "Now,"
she said, moving closer to him, putting her in clear view, "what I have
here is a cane, which will sting quite a bit."

"What?" said the guy, suddenly rolling over to look at her, as startled
as I was.

"Ah, now lie back down, on your stomach."

"But..."

"Don't worry about it.  Please.  Just lie back down."

"Listen, this is crazy..."

"Shh," she said, in a sort-of soothing manner.  "Don't worry," she added,
still retaining the soothing tone.  "Lie back down.  Everything is fine."

"Uh, I'm not into this..." he said, as he did what she asked.

"Don't worry," she said.  "It's nothing to get worried about, OK?"

"I--think I'd better go," he said.

"Not just yet," she said, sitting next to him.  I stared at the picture,
incredulous.  "Now calm down and say nothing," she said.  She stroked
his back as she said it.  "Don't worry, but don't say anything for a
little while."

For a moment they remained like that.  She stroked his back.  Diane!
"I have to go," he said suddenly.

"Sh," she said, now her voice even more calm.  "In a bit.  Everything 
will
be fine."  Then she stood, trailing her hand off him.  "Don't say a word.
I'll just give you five and it'll be over soon."

"Diane," he said.

"Sh," she said.  "Don't move."

And he didn't!  He lay there, obediently, on his stomach, his hands
behind his neck.  She backed away a little and stretched out her arm with
the cane.  "It'll sting a bit but remember, five and they're all over,"
she said.  "You're doing great."

For a moment she simply stood there, holding the cane.  Then, suddenly,
she took a backswing, and whipped it down on his ass.  I almost felt
the wind knocked out of me, seeing her do that.  The guy gasped.  "Sh,"
she said.  And she gave him another.

And more.  And then she turned away, after the fifth.  "Good," she said,
"excellent.  You can get dressed again."

"What?" he said.  He sounded confused.  I wondered whether he thought
she'd undress and join him in the bed.  Just a little earlier he'd seemed
ready to leave.

"You did very nicely and you can get dressed again now, but no talk."
She left the view of the camera, apparently back to where she'd been
before.

"But..."

"No talk," she repeated.

He openly rubbed his ass as he stood, careful not to sit on it.  Then,
finding his clothes he began to dress.  I found I didn't want to watch
a guy dressing and almost turned it off, but in the end, I simply
looked away.  "You can go now," came her voice, a bit later.  I looked
back to find him practically dressed.  He left, and she did too and the
tape simply showed the bed.  The bed she and I had been sleeping in.
I stared at it.  Then her footsteps came, and the camera went off.

I simply sat there, static on the TV.  I roused myself in a bit,
remembering that Diane would be back and after rewinding the tape,
carefully replaced it.  And I looked at the other tapes.  "Charles,"
"David," "Ray," "Joe," "Randy."  Then I noticed one had a bunch of dates
on it.  And the name on it was "Jane".

I was pretending to read my book when Diane returned, from some shopping
thing.  I did my best to act natural, but whenever I was left to myself,
I found myself lost in thought.  I couldn't get it out of my mind though
it was clear very soon that my mind was going in circles.  Remembering 
the
taped scene, trying to reconcile the Diane on the tape with the Diane
I knew.  Thinking about what she did, the cajoling, sort of luring the
guy into submitting to being whipped like that.  And all those tapes.

Yes, it wasn't too long before she was off with Karen to some other 
thing,
and I went for the tape marked "Jane".  Yes, it was a very similar scene
with a woman.  She pleaded with Diane, to join her, to act normally.
Diane talked her through it, her voice soothing, apparently revealing her
intentions only when Jane was already nude and on the bed.  Talking Jane
out of her panic when she realized what Diane was saying.  Five strokes.
Diane described them as "stinging a bit," but it looked to me like
those words hardly described it.  Telling Jane to get dressed again.
Jane leaving.  Then, the beginning of another such scene.

This time Jane obviously knew what was up, and she raised more of a
protest when Diane wasn't getting undressed with her.  But Diane simply
kept talking to her, seemingly with perfect patience.  And Jane 
eventually
did as she asked, some of the time seeming to think she'd entice Diane
into joining her in bed.  A couple of things Jane said seemed to suggest
that they'd been in bed before.  But all Diane did was talk to her,
eventually telling her it would "sting a bit."  And in the end, Jane
went along with every bit of it.

Another scene began.  Jane was adamant that things should be different.
It went on and on, minutes.  Eventually she undressed as Diane asked
her to, seeming to think she was luring Diane into something.

It was getting on in time and I stopped the tape so I could have it
back in place.  I looked at other tapes as I replaced it.  The one
after "Jane" was marked "Lisa."  Then "Rita," but after that it was
guys again, three more tapes.  I looked at the date on the last tape.
It was a couple of weeks before Diane and I had started going out.

If I'd been obsessive before, now it seemed like all I could think about.
I realized I hadn't been absolutely certain that the other tapes would be
similar to the first, but the scene with Jane was so much like the first
tape that now there seemed no question.  And the next time I was alone
in the house, I scanned a couple of others and confirmed it all the more.

I thought about Diane and me.  She'd remained exactly the same as when
we'd first gone out, sex was fantastic, we were getting along great.
She seemed to really like me and I was getting to know her friends.
Karen even told me that I was perfect for Diane.

Eventually one day we were lying in bed, and the row of tapes were
visible, and something must have got to me.  Either I figured it would be
unnatural for me *not* to ask about them by this time, or my curiosity
finally got to me.  Or both.  "What are those tapes there?" I said,
pointing to them.

She laughed.  "You know very well what those are," she said.

I lay there, amazed, and feeling rather guilty.  "What?" I said.

"I left you plenty of time to check them out," she said.  "You know
exactly what's on them.  Do you admit it?"

I thought quickly.  She didn't seem angry or put out in the least.
She seemed to think it was all a bit humorous.  I began to wonder how
I was going to casually mention their content since it was certainly
worthy of mention.  "I admit they were a bit of a surprise," I said.

She laughed.  "I bet they were," she said.

*Where do I go from here?*  "Why did you make them?" I said.

"I just felt like it.  Did you enjoy them?"  But as soon as she said
it, she seemed to decide on her own that I didn't and I felt no obliged
to answer.  "I'll bet you enjoyed my *lesbian phase*," she said.

"Your lesbian phase?"  She gave me a sly smile as if to tell me she
knew I knew all about it.  I couldn't believe the way this was going.
"So what's with Jane?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment.  "We went out for a while," she said.
"I thought I was through with that stuff."  I didn't quite understand
what she was saying, but she waved her hand toward the tapes and it 
seemed
she meant she was through with tapings or canings or something like that.
"Then I found she'd take it just like the guys did.  She let me do that
for a while, but eventually I got bored with that too."

I thought about the whole thing.  It was amazing the way Diane talked
about it all so openly.  "Do you want to cane me?" I heard myself ask,
not as a request, just to find out her mind on the subject.

She laughed.  "God, no," she said.  "I want to *sleep* with you."

"Didn't you sleep with *them*?" I said, indicating the tapes.

"No," she said, nearly laughing again.  "Well, there was Jane, but not
after I began doing *that* with her."

"Why do you do *that*?" I said.  It had been clear what she'd meant.

She didn't answer right away, but looked thoughtful again.  "I'm not
sure," she said.  "Why do we do anything?"

I was intrigued by the way she looked unsure of her answer, as if she
honestly didn't know what to say.  "We do things because we want to,"
I said.

"Or because we have to," she said.

"Who *were* those guys?" I asked.

"Oh, guys I met..."

I thought more.  "Are you *sure* you don't have the desire to do the
same to me?"

She laughed again.  "Absolutely not," she said, snuggling close.
I looked at her, trying and failing to understand her.  "Look," she said,
"I didn't *date* those guys.  Not really."

I decided not to question her further.  I found myself relieved on a few
issues: she wasn't angry or upset that I knew, and she seemed sincere 
when
she said she had no designs on *me* in that way.  I thought about what
she'd said about Jane.  Later on, I looked at the tape labels again.
There was a substantial gap between the last time she'd taped a guy
and the first time she'd taped Jane: seven months.  Giving our time
together some thought, I realized Diane and I hadn't gone out together
that long yet.

"Are you still worried about those tapes?" she asked me later.

"Are you *sure* you don't have the desire to do that to me?" I asked.

"No," she said flatly.

I thought.  "I'm not sure how you can have that desire, but not about 
me."

She reached up to my neck and pulled me down to kiss her, just a short
kiss, then smiled.  "It's abundantly clear to me what I want you for,"
she said.  Then she gave me a longer kiss.

We might have ended up in bed before long, but since we were going
out, we restrained ourselves.  I brought the subject up the next time.
"You went out with Jane for a while?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

She gave me a look as if to suggest it was none of my business.
"About six months, I suppose, before..."

"Before the first time you caned her?"

"Yes."

"And after that?"

"I caned her more times."  When I said nothing, she added, "We had no
more sex.  I don't desire people I cane."  And after a little more,
she said, "You probably think I'm very strange."

"You're certainly not like anyone I've met before," I said.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," she said, giving me a sly smile.
I actually wondered if she was talking about someone specific, but 
finally
decided she was just saying that in general, you don't know everything
about the folks you meet.

And another time, out of the blue, I asked her, "Are you attracted
to women?"

She looked at me and laughed.  "Oh absolutely," she said, "Sometimes.
With the right woman.  But it's not the same as with men."  I considered
that.  I certainly appreciated her forthrightness, which to me felt like
she trusted me implicitly.  "So what's on *your* mind, a threesome?" she
asked.

I could see she was teasing me.

It was a few days later that out of the blue, I found myself asking,
"Does it turn you on?  When you cane-- someone?"

She usually laughed at me when I displayed my obsession, but that
particular time she took me seriously.  "No," she said.  I certainly
didn't understand, and she obviously saw that.  "Not in the ordinary
way," she said, "it's not sexual at all."  She didn't explain further,
and that certainly gave me food for thought.

I guess it was the next time I alluded to the tapes that she finally
showed her patience wasn't infinite.  "Can't you get off that topic?" she
asked, even though we hadn't mentioned it for a week.  "It's there,
it's part of my past and that's that.  It has nothing to do with us."

I found myself searching for a protest, but quickly gave up on it and
simply apologized.  I knew that even though the discussion had been 
spread
over weeks, it still consisted of me obsessively prying into her past.
Or maybe she'd just been a just a little annoyed that I'd said something
about her going out yet again.

As soon as I apologized, she was obviously sorry she'd snapped at me, and
though she changed the subject, she was clearly trying to cheer me up.
I even sensed she was thinking of chucking the idea of going out with
Karen and doing something with me instead.  But I insisted she go.

"Maybe you can watch Jane again," she said, conspiratorially.  "You did
see them all, didn't you?  With her?"

"No."

"Oh, you definitely want to see the last one."  I thought about it,
amazed.  She seemed to assume that I got off on seeing them.  Was she
projecting some of her own inclinations on me?  Was her assumption
correct?  I had noticed that as memories of the tape grew more distant,
that they seemed to grow in appeal.  Either the idea was growing on me,
or the thought was more arousing to me than the actual tapes, or perhaps
I was remembering them better than they actually were.  Or something.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" she said.  "Karen'll
understand."

"She's probably on her way over," I said.

"She's got her cell phone," she said.  I said nothing to that, but
noticed she still looked bothered.  Or concerned.  "Look," she finally
said, "I admit I've put you in an unusual situation.  It's no wonder
you're curious.  Anyone would be."

I simply kissed her cheek to let her know that whatever her quirks,
that I was smitten.  Karen showed up to pick her up.

"You know," said Diane to Karen, "I almost called to cancel."  Diane was
standing next to me and she kind of leaned against me.  I could see that
she was practically winking at Karen, silently suggesting to her that
something was up between us.

Karen seemed quick on the uptake.  "We certainly could do this some
other time," she said.  They had a shopping trip planned.

"Oh no!" said Diane, protesting.  But even as she did so, she stood
against me in a suggestive way.  "Listen, Karen," she added, "come here
for a moment."  With that, she left, leading the way out of the room.
Karen, looking somewhat confused, went to follow.  I was left, feeling
just a little bit strange about the way Diane was acting.

Diane reappeared at the door, motioning me to come, and I followed her
into her bedroom.  Karen stood there.

"Uh," said Karen.  "What's going on?"

I found us standing again as we'd been out by the front door: Karen
facing us, Diane, her back to me so close that we were in contact.
Karen looked confused and just a touch wary.  "Get undressed," said 
Diane.

Karen looked utterly surprised.  Then she gave a tentative smile.
"You're kidding," she said.

I looked at Karen.  Of course I'd noticed before that she was plenty
attractive.  I was amazed at the sheer audacity of what Diane was saying.
"Come on, get undressed," she said.

"This isn't a good idea," said Karen.  I could see *everything* written
on her face.  Confusion.  The desire not to rock the boat with her
best friend.  Nerves.

Diane stepped away from me, to her, and took her arm.  "Get undressed,"
she said, quietly.  "You can do it."

Karen still looked wary.  "This is *definitely* a bad idea," she said.
But as she said it, she unbuttoned her blouse!

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Diane gave her shoulders just a
little friendly hug, then withdrew, back to me.  Karen had her blouse
undone.  "Are you *sure* you want to do this?" Karen said, apparently
to both of us.  She didn't look like *she* wanted to do it at all.

"Take it off," said Diane.  "The blouse," she added.

I would have sworn Karen looked like she couldn't possibly do that.
But then she did.  "Go on," said Diane.  But Karen now looked unwilling
again.  "I've always known you were beautiful," said Diane.

"We'd better not," said Karen.  But even as she said it, she was undoing
her shorts!  Once her shorts and her blouse were both off, it seemed to
be in the air that we were all definitely committed.

"Go on," said Diane.  "You can do it."

Karen waited, nervously.  "What about you?"

"Go on," said Diane.

Karen looked like she was nearly trembling.  She kicked off her shoes,
then took off her bra.  Her breasts were small but very nice.  Her body
was definitely in shape.  "Go on," said Diane.

I think Karen might have had thoughts about the weirdness of undressing 
as
we watched, but seemed to feel it simply a type of seductive scenario.
As we watched, she pulled off the rest, and stood there, naked.
"Lie down on the bed," said Diane.

Karen was subdued now, apparently accepting things so far.  She lay on
her side, facing us, like the classic painting.  "On your stomach,"
said Diane.  Karen looked slightly confused again, and Diane added,
"Go ahead."

Once she did so, Diane said, "put your hands behind your head."

"Diane!" said Karen, sounding a little alarmed.

"Just relax," Diane said, "everything is fine.  Go ahead, put your hands
behind your head.  For me."

Karen did it.  "Now as I said, relax," said Diane.  "No talking.  This is
going to sting a bit."

"What?" came Karen's surprised reaction.

"Quiet," said Diane, her voice, soothing.  "Don't worry."  She had the
cane in her hand.  "It's going to sting a bit but you can handle it.
Only a bit."

Then she waited as if to see if Karen would say more, and after a few
seconds, Karen did.  "Diane, this is strange..."

"Don't worry," came Diane's soothing voice.  I saw Karen's body tremble.
After a moment, Diane spoke more.  "I'm just giving you five, that's all.
The cane will sting a bit, but you can handle it."

"Please..." said Karen, her voice obviously shaken.

"Everything's fine.  You'll do fine, just stay quiet, that's all I ask."

Moments more passed.  Diane suddenly seemed to relax as if she had been
concerned whether she'd manage to calm Karen sufficiently.  Then, she
took that quick backswing and let Karen have it on the ass.

Karen yelped.  "Sh," said Diane soothingly.  And gave her another.

It was over soon, Karen giving some sharp breaths, but no more 
vocalizing.
Diane turned toward me and grinned.  And looked pointedly at my crotch.

Then in a second, Diane was over, feeling me up.  I was rock-hard.
"Don't move," she said aloud, to Karen.  Then she led me out the door.

"I see it's got *you* aroused," she said in a gleeful whisper once we
were out of earshot.

"And you?" I said.

"I told you, it doesn't arouse me," she said.

We stood there, facing each other.  I couldn't read her.

Then I couldn't take it anymore.  I grabbed her and pushed her shorts
and underpants down.  And felt her up.

She was soaking wet.  I turned her around and she found herself leaning
over the back of a chair.

We were very quiet, breathing being all you would hear.  But I could
tell she came.  Hard.

***

We were sitting, the two of us.  I'm not really a shopper, but I have
to admit that I enjoy the time spent with Diane and once in a while like
seeing her in the different outfits, and though she'll ask my advice, she
never seems to take it.  A moment on the bench in the mall was welcome.
"Karen!" I heard Diane say, then she jumped up, and I saw Karen in the
distance.  It wasn't really surprising to run into her at the mall this
time of day on a Saturday.   I followed.

"Hi," said Karen, with the wary look she always wears when we run
into her.

"How are you doing?" said Diane.

"Just some shopping," Karen said.  She looked around.  "Look, I was
just heading for Bradley's..." I could see she was suggesting Diane come
with her.

"Come," said Diane.  For all the world, Diane sounded like an excited 
kid,
asking someone to follow, to see something.  And she headed off.  The
opposite direction from Bradley's.  When Karen didn't follow immediately,
Diane returned and took Karen's hand, drawing her.  I followed.

The three of us headed toward the mall entrance.  "Can't we just
shop?" said Karen.  "We used to..."

"Sh," said Diane.  She has this way of doing it, somehow friendly,
and calming too, yet in a way that suggests she means it.  We headed
out the door toward our car.

"We'd be leaving my car here," said Karen as Diane opened a door for her.
She gets in the back seat with Karen.  "Please, let's not do this,"
said Karen as I pulled out of the parking spot.

"Relax," said Diane.  "Everything's fine."

I drove.  Glancing in the rear-view mirror I could see that they were
still.  I somehow had the impression that Diane held Karen's hand.
"We used to shop together," said Karen.

"I know," said Diane, still that soothing voice.

"I don't want to do this," said Karen.  I could hear the slight trembling
in her voice.  Diane said nothing.

"Please take me back," said Karen.

"We'll take you back," said Diane, still with her calming voice, the
exact opposite of Karen's.

I drove on.  "We used to be friends," said Karen.

A moment past.  "We're *best* friends," said Diane.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
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