Encrypted-4

Chapter 4

I watch Brandy doing the dishes and I get up to help her. There’s a lot of my things here now too and she opens up every cupboard and we sort things. It doesn’t sound important but this is hugely soothing to me. This wasn’t my home, this was her home but my home had been violated and things had come to pass that as so very new to us knowing one and other we are now living together.

She’s letting me decide where things can go where they’re right. Not like and absolute but spacially right to me. The best way to describe it is that to me a certain thing has to be in a certain place or it will feel off to me. And it’s only certain things, not everything and I don’t understand why that is, nobody really does why some of us get that way about certain things and not others.

I know that this isn’t normal, that it’s hugely inconvenient for her or it should be and yet she’s doing it and while we’re doing it she’s playing some classical music on her stereo and we’re being close, holding each other and leaning on each other and she doesn’t even mind when I sometimes stutter just a little over things or count on my fingers while we’re trying to make a decision.

Acceptance, she’s not like anyone I’ve ever known and besides the actual fact that until I had met her that I haven’t met anyone like her was a literal fact, I’m actually meaning it figuratively, emotionally two things that seldom have entered into the equations of my life on a positive level.

And it might sound like things are selfishly going the way that I need them to be there’s a lot of the things that we salvaged that are going to go to Goodwill or into storage. I’m keeping those things that are really only truly important to me. Mostly things that survived from my childhood, which survived the stuff that the ones who assaulted me had done. See Brandy being in my life has become the most important thing to me. It’s just a matter of me solving the problem of the little things that I can do or change or make equal to other factors that have the end result…Brandy being in my life and her being as happy as I can make her.

Strange…I wonder what my father would say about me finally understanding that part about when you really love someone you do whatever you have to do to make them happy. I wonder what he’d say if he knew it took me being a woman to man up to that?

I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her and hold her to me and just breathe for a few moments. I move her hair and I kiss the back of her neck three little kisses. I’m not sure why three but the kissing is something she’s made me want to do for her. I enjoy it too but…I say softly to her.

“Thank you. This is a thing that is really personal for me. I…I..I’m not sure even if I can say just how this makes me feel? Safe, secure, balanced seem close but it’s still not quite right.”

She leans back into me and turns her head to kiss my cheek. “How does loved work beautiful?”

“Yes…Loved works. Thank you…y..you make me feel loved.” I’m very pleased, it feels good to be able to express myself to share these feeling with Brandy and as much as she gets everything else she gets this too. It also feels really good to be called beautiful.

She turns around in my arms and kisses my lightly. “That’s because you are loved Madison.”

It’s after supper and we are done the things from the kitchen and the radio is playing something she finds soothing and rhythmic. She dances and hums in front of me for awhile as entrancing as anything that I’ve ever seen. Her arms slide up to my neck and wrap around them resting on my shoulders. Then she kisses me. I love the way that her kissing me makes me feel. Brandy is able to somehow transmit this feeling that just seems to make everything better. She grounds me into the moment and all those little thoughts and variables in my head slow down. It’s so soothing, so calming so good. I hope that I can or do somehow invoke something as treasured in her.

She presses her breasts against mine and even though mine are not flesh like hers the pressure, the physical feeling does so much too. She moves, swaying and sliding back and for like she’s some free thing that’s some how this biological avatar of dance co-existing with the music…dance is something that I’ve always loved, there’s math in dance, physics and yet to put that gracefully into the mechanics of movement and music. There’s as much magic to it to me as there is science.

And yes, like some of you might know like me science can be beautiful…soulful. The “Geeks and nerds” of the world are really just artists.

She dances us through the kitchen and through the living room/common space and into the bedroom. We dance there a little longer before she guides me down to the bed, our bed.

She dances more at the edge of our bed taking her time to undress in front of me but dancing as she does it. A piece of her clothing, a piece of mine and soon we’re down to our underwear and she slowly removes her bra and I remove mine, I do not have what she has yet but I will. She lowers herself to me kissing and I kiss her back. She guides me to one of her dark nipples and I suckle on it then the other entranced by the changes. The way they crinkle then expand as the nerves waken the swell of them ever so slight as the blood flow increases in them. The way her scent so faintly but increasingly changes with her arousal. And the breathy, musical sound of her encouragements.

We are like that for awhile as I fall into it. The reactions, the data if you will of all these little things that make up me suckling on her lush, heavy full breasts. I’m trying to make it sound not so clinical and it’s not, it’s getting less and less about the mechanics of the intimacy and becoming more like the dance, more like music this soulful? Interactive experience. I love the textural experience too, the mouth feel, the taste of her skin, the way her hair feels as in cascades off of her face onto my skin. It’s becoming less new and more familiar and I treasure the familiar.

Brandy lowers her head and she starts to return the affection in the same way. I know that it’s not the same but it is pleasant and soothing and it does feel good. I…I…I did something that first morning…that thing with my hand and there are nerves there that aren’t as active as her’s are and as she’s sucking on my nipples slowly and artfully it’s helping me focus on the thing I’m trying to do.

Zeros and one’s, zero’s and ones, nerves are wires, on or off I can do this I’ve done it before and slowly, increasingly though I move some of my current and boost the signal gain on my nipples…Oh…oh it’s working, the new rush of sensations sends my brain into this whole new way of feeling. My hands run through her hair and I feel…

It feels like endorphins are actually being generated right there in my nipples and my breasts and that they are being carried from there to my heart and the quickly into my brain. It’s a kind of a physical high that is so amazing….I get aroused so much it hurts and by the time Brandy is paying attention/working her arts on my other nipple and breast I shake and explode into my panties.

I’m panting and my heart is racing and I express a little more semen as her breast slide over mine and our nipples touch as she slides down my body.

Brandy is an expert at what she is doing and she cleans my semen off of me and removes my panties and takes me into her hot wet mouth and those soft full Africanized lips. But as amazing the sexual sensations are I still and always am more into the sensation of her pressure around me in this loving intimate safe way and more than that. Her eyes, she does not often look at the task in her hand instead she looks up my body at me and she keeps eye contact with me. She has these eyes that are so big and so brown that I cannot wonder if she human at all. I’ve known humans all mu life and there has never been anyone as beautiful to me.

Her finger slips in with the assistance of some lubricant to allow her to touch the nerves inside of me and my prostate and to ready me for herself. I play with my chest, my nipples as she does and she smiles around my sex and it’s not before long that the culmative effects trip my breaker as it were and I find release.

Brandy slides up my body once more and again her breasts touch mine and out nipples are touching and sort of slip and slide and dance around each other much like the way that one would describe tongues in a French kiss…the feeling is so powerful and soft and sweet. That’s another quality of this experience, of my realizing that I am a woman that my needs and my senses are softer than a mans would be, the intense brutality and sheer feral nature I think of male sexuality would have been too much a brutal assault on my life and I would have likely shut down if I had the typical male experiences. This, this is the way that I am hardwired to work. I feel more alive and human than I ever have.

Brandy kisses me with my flavors still on her and it is simply different but also erotic I think. I’m not sure about that though. But the kisses are so much more important to me. She does the most amazing thing too.

She kisses me then she slowly rubs her nose against mine, them her plump perfect lips over mine across them back and forth until the slight friction increases the sensation of the lips to lip contact. I feel her enter me her sex hard and yet warm and covered if that supple flesh feeling and it hurts a little, this is no longer my first encounter and when I feel her bottom out inside of me she continues the amazing experience with our faces.

When someone is like me some senses have this strange quality to them, we see, taste, feel and experience things so differently it’s never just one thing either, or one solid group of things it’s huge amounts of all these tiny things that effect us in ways that can be like pleasurable or painful or scary or uncomfortable, the world can be an assault on our senses which is why we become creatures of peculiarity and habit. Familiarity is good, it’s better than good it brings things into this solid place in our universes.

My therapist says the best way to describe it is having a kind of Bi-polar-schizophrenic-obsessive-compulsive-disorder. A good example is plastics, I can deal with them but I hate them, I know like glass plastic is still moving and flowing on a molecular level for most kinds, it feels solid to most people but I feel it, I can feel it being slippery and slimy and plastic bags are the worst. Clear plastic is worse that colored and it’s limiting sometimes. Strangely it’s just the plastic and not the contents inside of it…

I’m losing the point.

Brandy just stays inside of me at first, breasts dancing with mine but she’s staring me in my eyes often and she explores my face with her own and allows me to explore hers… “Maddie just feel it, run you lips over me, over my face, kiss me like that, feel me out…Yes, that’s it good girl…I love this, I love you…” she says to me. I know what Brandies eyelids and lashes feel like to my lips, I’ve nuzzled and made what could only be called the best deepest kisses I’ve ever had by kissing her with different parts of our faces…I ran my eyebrow down sliding with the grain/ flow of hers, I’ve kissed her with just cheek bones…it’s as powerful and as personal as when she made room for me in her life in the kitchen and let my literally change things so we…I…was okay.

Ten minutes we did this maybe more and then she started to move inside of me and we began to make love and have sex again. She brought me to orgasm twice more, once just mostly from her breasts sliding over mine and the intense feeling from our nipples together and the last was from direct anal stimulation.

Her suckling on my breast again had gotten me aroused enough to return the favor and to enter Brandy and from then on it was so much about her depths and that secure and loving way her body seemed to wrap itself around me and the whole thing only gets better for me when she wraps her arms around my neck and shoulders and her legs around my waist. Again there’ such security in being inside her, in being enveloped by her…It takes longer and more effort for me to bring her to the physical places she’s taken me. But there’s this emotional component she seems to draw into herself that seems to more than make up for it. And that’s the truth of it isn’t it. That sex as in the act not biology is in the brain so much more than anything of the body…all the wonder this evening really happened for me in my brain the way I felt and experienced things.

We spoon? We cuddle together afterwards and brandy sets her clock. “I have to work tonight and I want time to be ready but I’m more than ready to just curl up here with you until I have to go.”

“Okay, where do you work?”

“The Violet Rose.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a bar, I dance there.” I feel her tense up, shiver even. Her voice was even a bit strained.

“Could I come and watch you work? I don’t know how I’ll do here alone.” I hug her, I hope that’s good. She presses into me.

“I’ll have to ask Mark he runs the place, but it shouldn’t be a problem…I’m…I’m sorry Maddie.” Her voice is quieter still.

“I do not understand, I…I’m missing why you are sorry?” I kiss the back of her neck and her shoulder. “I’m not good with context Brandy, please tell me?”

She turns just enough so she can twist and move her head to look at me partways, she’s very limber. “Maddie…I’m a stripper.” I just can only stare at her still not getting why she’s upset. She furrows her brows which does a fascinating little wrinkly thing between her brows and sort of changes the carriage of her nose. I think it’s pleasing enough to be called cute. “Stripper, you know and exotic dancer?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being a stripper!” she sounds frustrated, but she sounds happy frustrated like kind of mad but on the edge of laughing? I’m very confused by that sort of result of us talking, it could be a good thing or a bad thing I’m very unsure. Is she mad at me/ did I do a good thing? See this is why I’ve always been alone. I get into something like this and I’d leave having learned better, just duck my head and leave and get clear until I’m in a place that makes sense to me.

“Brandy…” I sort of whine. “I don’t get it, I’m sorry…I’m trying…” I can’t help the few tears that slip out and run down my cheeks. She turns all the way around to face me. Her hand comes up to wipe the tears away.

“You really don’t do you? You don’t care that I’m a stripper do you.?”

I sniffle and look at her. “You are an amazing dancer, you’re beautiful Brandy and if other people are willing to go and see how beautiful you are then it just makes sense. I love watching you dance.”

“Most people think that stripping is a bad thing.”

“Why?”

“They think because we dance and take our clothes off for money that we are prostitutes too.”

“Oh.”

She lowers her head. “I have y’know.”

“Have what?”

“Had sex with men for money?”

“Why?”

“Because the money is easy, or you can fool yourself into thinking that it’s easy. I needed the money for my operations and my medications.”

“You couldn’t find other work/”

“Not that paid like this did. I’m a transgendered, black, high-school drop out with a criminal record. There wasn’t a lot of places that would hire me for anything unless it was some minimum wage job that wouldn’t even pay my regular bills.”

“So you fit the social model for the most part for the largest reason for the sex trade.”
“Yeah…I guess? You’re taking this differently than I thought…I thought that you’d be angry or hate me for being a whore.”

I might not get everything but I do get some things and some things are in my scope pretty deeply as far as my feelings go. I kiss her passionately or try to I’m still working on my proficiency. I pull her into me closer.

“Brandy I love you and what you do for a living has never been a part of that. But…and I mean this you are not a whore, you have never been a whore. You might have had to be a prostitute but that was based on need just like women have had to do for much of history. You’re not a whore, a scientist or chemist or a doctor that develops something that can change millions of live and help the world but sells out to the big corporations they, they are whores. Trust me I know a lot more about whores than most people think. You my amazing, beautiful love aren’t a whore and you’ve never been one.”

I don’t talk like that. I never have talked like that. I mean what I’ve said and I’ve got years of rants in my head about the corruption you see in the upper level research programs and with corporate involvement and the politicians getting involved too. Universities can be dirty places sometimes.

But I’ve never voiced anything like that before. I’ve never felt this good, right, strong about things before. When I’d be a mess about this stuff if it was about me it’s different for her. It’s simpler, it matters more.

She stares at me and she cries and presses into me and holds onto me like I’m her personal floatation device and she shakes and sobs and I’m worried right up until she’s whispering. “Thank you, thank you Maddie, thank you….no one’s ever….I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that like you, I’ve really had no one since my Grams…”

“You’re welcome…I’ve...I’ve never felt this way before now about anyone Brandy, about anything like I have you.” I hold her then kiss her some more and snuggle in closer pressing her breasts to mine. “You should sleep; you’ll have to get up soon.”

***
We wake with the alarm and we share the bathroom getting cleaned up and ready for her dance shift at the Violet Rose. I enjoy all of it except the necessary post sex clean up and that’s just normal I guess now for us.

I love the feelings of getting dressed. The feeling of my bra and the snug tightness of my panties and even the textures of the fabrics used all are this soothing balm to me. Even make up, I love the feeling of it covering my face but not just being something securing me to who I really am it really visually shows me the woman I was always meant to be.

I wear a nice blouse, and a dark skirt just above my knees and simple matching one inch heels. I’m still borrowing clothes and brandy and I are going to do some shopping soon. She says that it might be a very new and good experience for me. Perfume completes the effect and I feel so…grounded…normal or as normal I think as I’ve ever felt. I can’t leave the house without putting the sheets into the washer and putting new sheets on the bed. I just have too. We need new sheets, a lot of them and other things. I changed my bed sheets every time I went to bed. Not if I got up to use the bathroom or something but every night I slept in clean sheets. I just have too. I hope she can get through all my quirks.

Then my anxieties go through the roof again as I’m back out in “Pretty” with her and I get in the car and it’s just too…I run back inside for some of the cleaning supplies in a cloth grocery bag and run back out to the car. It’s strange for me to run anywhere but that run click little step shuffle I have to do in these shoes is strangely good, fun? Oh and I have no problem doing that, or walking in them. It just feels right.

Brandy looks at me amused. “What…was that all about?”

“I have to clean your car.”

“It’s not that bad.”

I just look at her. She stares back at me until she smiles and she laughs a little. “Okay, okay it’s been awhile.”

“Yes, there are things in here I could take to the archeology department, they’d be fascinated at the petrified half a quarter pounder with cheese.”

“Hey!”

She’s smiling and I’m smiling and I’m good until we hit heavy downtown nighttime traffic. I’m not good outside at night. Not in the city. It scares me and there’s too much going on, too many bright lights and neon signs and just too much input for me to handle.
I close my eyes and rock a bit while counting on my fingers.

“Are you okay honey?”

I shake my head no.

“You want to go home?”

I shake my head no.

“Are you sure?”

I take a deep breath then another. Open my eyes lick my lips a little and the lipstick helps, rub my nyloned legs together, that helps. My hands twitch but I stop counting and open my eyes. “I’m…I’m alright, it’s just a lot of…of…everything and I have to get more acclimated to it. I can do this. I’ll be alright…” I look over to her and give her a small smile. I actually impress myself by thinking about my clothes and how good I feel and how much I can feel my breast now. My nerves are still active since I flipped the switches and I can really get a bigger breast like sensation with the inserts and everything.

We get there and we are let in by this big Polynesian man with tribal tattoos and dressed in leathers he’s so big it’s scary and he’d make the sized of both me and Brandy and still have mass left over. She hugs him and introduces me to Kevin the bouncer for the club and introduces me as her girlfriend Madison. He gently shakes my hand and says it’s very nice to meet me and gives me a kiss on my cheek. I’m very pleased at the gentleness of it all and shocked that I didn’t have a negative response to the intimate contact.

It’s dark inside but there’s a lot of violet and purple neon along the dance floor and the tables and the bar itself. Brandy leads me over to the bar where there is a man, a thirty something in leather pants like a biker not one of those clubbing gay stereo types and a black very nice t-shirt that’s tight across his muscles and he has both arms covered in tattoos and some on his neck, I think there might be many more under the shirt. He’s mixing drinks and serving customers or providing drinks for the wait staff.

This turns out to be Mark the owner/operator of the place. He’s busy and the music is loud and the introductions are yelled. “Mark!, Mark! This is Maddie my girlfriend!”

“Nice to meet you!”

“Th..thank you!”

“She’s cute! Does she dance?” he asks Brandy.

“No! She’s my S.O.!”

“Oh! Didn’t know you had one!”

“She wants to know if she can stay and watch the show!”

“Sure but the drinks aren’t free!”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll settle the tab at the end of shift?”

“Y’huh what ever get your butt back there we’re short a girl tonight!”

“Shit! alright!” she comes over to me and kisses me long and deep and I’m sure as a show for the bar’s patrons and says in my ear. “Stay here by the bar and you shouldn’t have too much trouble. Mark won’t let anything happen to you.” She gives me another kiss and heads backstage.

Mark looks at me. “Drink?”
I nod. “Please!”

“What’ll it be?”

“I’ve only had beer and white wine before, but I got drugged recently so…!”

He winches I think in sympathy. “Can of pop?”

“Please! That’d be great!” I’m doing really good at this. I think having to yell is off setting some of the social awkwardness I usually feel. Mark comes back with a can of Coke which is fine. He even pops the tab for me and wipes down the can out of habit? It must be a bartender thing but for some reason I find it a pleasing gesture. “Glass?””

“No, this is safer!” I hope he’s not offended by that but he seems to not be and just nods and soon he’s serving other customers.

I settle in and cross my legs as I get comfortable on my barstool perch and just watch. I’m so out of my element here but I’m not anywhere near as bad as I’ve thought I would be.

The place seems clean or cleaner than I though a bar would be. This is my first bar experience. The wait staff are all attractive women and I think two of them are transgendered. Mark makes them dump their trays every once in a while taking clean ones out of a dishwasher and putting in the dirty ones. He has another one just for the glassware and when he gets a chance he wipes the bar down with an antibacterial wipe out of a large tub of them and has a box of these blue paper/cotton towels that he uses to wipe things down. It seems a bit OCD for some people but they seem to tip well and seem to appreciate it.

There’s a mixture of people here but most are men, most are here to watch the dancers on stage or get a lap dance and I see a lot of middle aged, middle classed men and some in suits even. There’s a small group of transvestites and some openly gay men and another bunch of people who I think might be lesbians but not the kind who were like the woman at my bank. These girls seem to not have a problem with the transgendered. But it is largely men here and there are many of them from what I can tell wearing wedding rings.

Most of the dancers are all transgendered or appear to be such, the she-male thing seems to be the draw here and there are a lot of Latin and Latin black girls here and a lot of orientals too, there’s three Caucasian girls dancing here tonight and there seems to be a bit of an oriental salaryman set of tables that are paying for them to dance for them a lot.

Brandy dances and she looks good up there and she moves with the music and the pole and she even starts out with a costume on and she looks beautiful. When she’s not on the stage she’s lap dancing which actually looks hard trying not really touch the patron while almost touching the patron. I see a few times that someone will set his hands on her body but she calmly seems to remove the hand and if he does it a third time she walks away whether her dance is done or not. It seems to upset these men but there are rules.

I see another girl leave after the third touch and get grabbed by a patron and one of what I thought was just one of the lesbian girls is suddenly there and snaps out a security baton and gets between him and the dancer and before his bluster gets going too strong Kevin from out front is there placing a hand that could palm this mans head like a basketball on his shoulder and suddenly his whole demeanor shifts to something that looks incredibly dangerous. He’s escorted out with very little fuss and things go back to normal.

I can’t help but to think though that if I was that dancer I’d be scared. And they seem to get touched and handled a lot and I’m sure that there must be some distasteful offers made and things said. I’m not sure though just where I sit on the entire thing, it seems hard and sort of degrading but I’ve seen the wait staff here and in regular places gets treated very much the same. Some people do not understand look with your eyes, not your hands.

I do see several times a dancer will leave out back with a customer. And the looks on both of their faces when they return and there seems that some of the girls here do sell themselves for sex.

I’m approached a few times by men and Mark seems to slip close to me then and frowns them off with that same sort of thing that Kevin seems to have where he goes from a seemingly normal if not rough looking person to someone who reeks of danger and potential pain. Only one guy wasn’t smart enough for the look and Mark reached out over the bar and put his hand on the guy’s chest.

“She’s taken!”

“Fuck off and mind your business bar monkey.”

He shoved Marks hand away and Mark’s hand shot out again and grabbed him by the hair and pulled him in hard and fast in front of his face and the bar.

“I said she’s taken; now you’re going to get out of my club and Never come back here or I’ll rip off your balls and keep them in my back pocket.”

He let the guy go and he staggered back into the wall of muscle that was Kevin. He left shortly after getting a Polaroid snapped of him by the girl with the security baton. I’m not sure what was said but he looked scared more than pissed off.

I’ve never been defended by people before either and Mark, Kevin, Nikki, and Brandy all ask me if I’m alright. No one’s really been that decent enough to stand up for me like that. As strange and scary and so different than anything in my life this is I’m not afraid here.

I even manage to relax and enjoy myself after awhile. I even have a can of Guinness after most of the crowd has gone. It’s about a five hour shift for Brandy. From ten at night until three in the morning when they have to close the bar. She get’s cleaned up and pays the tab and counts out her money having made just over four hundred dollars in dance cash and tips and her and I leave and we head for home.

We stop on the way for coffee and to get some groceries at one of the twenty four hour super store kind of places and I get her to stop at the closest place that there is a do it yourself car wash and it turns into this strange good morning?

The suns out and it’s going to be warm I think. There’s classical music playing out of her car radio, we’re eating breakfast and drinking coffee and even dancing as we’re washing “Pretty” out and cleaning out the junk and the dirt and the dust and I’m even buffing it with a thing of turtle wax that I bought out of the vending machine there. You wouldn’t think something like this and grocery shopping would be something that’d happen after spending the latest part of the night in a strip club but it is…

I’m even doing all of this in a skirt and heels.

And kissing Brandy in the sunshine the car looking well not like her car. And her arms around me I think this has got to be the best day, morning I’ve ever had in my life.