“Look, I’m not trying to hit on you; I just want to know you’re happy with
what you’ve bought.” I could hear a throaty tease in that voice, and I knew she was probably smirking behind that door.
Roxie and I were friends, but she knew I was just a little … uptight.
Undressing in front of each other was usually unnecessary in our time together, but it had happened before, and she always teased me about what a prude I was.
“Come on, have a look. It won’t kill you.” I heard from the other side of the door.
“Fine!” I whispered loudly and opened the door. Roxie was a lovely woman,
with a beautiful figure, and her body reflected her fitness regime. Her breasts, surgically augmented, looked much better than mine did in the same powder blue lace bra. Mine were smaller, but nice, I guessed.
“How does it look?” she teased and winked at me.
“It looks like I need a boob job!” We both giggled, the tension gone as we laughed together.
“Well, I can tell you, don’t go this big.” Roxie squeezed her forearms around the globes on her chest and rolled her eyes. “It’s such a pain.”
“I wouldn’t know.” I laughed with her as she turned, replaced her bra, and put her dress back on before we left the changing rooms.
We finished shopping and left to go eat at one of her favorite places. It was a quiet little burger place, but I loved it. Nobody cared how much money I made; they only wanted to know if the food was good and went on to the next customer. We talked about our project for a while and worked on some plans for fundraising. But, like always, our talk eventually turned to Roxie’s job. She had to go soon to get ready for her night at work.
I wanted to beg her to take me with her, but she hadn’t said yes yet. I wouldn’t push; I knew something like that would take time. She couldn’t just drag anybody off the street in there. It was exclusive not only in the individuals who were allowed in, but who came to work there. I’d have to go through some kind of process, I was sure.
We said our goodbyes, and I drove back to my room at the hotel. I’d wanted
to get my own place, my own apartment, but hadn’t got around to it yet. If I stuck with my promise to take more time for myself, I’d invest in a place where my house plants wouldn’t die because I wasn’t around to water them. Until then, I’d stay at the hotel.
Maybe I’d even buy myself an RV, and travel around, see the country a little.
In time, I thought as I sank into my bed after a shower. For now, I wanted to experiment. I thought about Roxie and what she did. What did it feel like to have
a stranger touch you? Was it frightening? Was it empowering?
Did she watch those men, weak with desire for the body she loved, feel like she was the one with all the power, all the control? Did they beg to touch her? To kiss her? I hummed without meaning too, something alive all over again in my body. In the darkness, flat on my back, my legs opened, and I wondered … what would it feel like?
I’d been tempted to buy toys, to find out for myself, but had decided the real thing was worth waiting for. I turned my head toward the window, but I didn’t see anything. My sight was internal, caught on an image of a man flat on his back as he waited for me to … do things. I swallowed hard and tried to imagine what it would be like to do the things I’d seen in videos online.
I’d watched a lot of videos in the spare time I had at night. With my headphones on, my doors locked, and my laptop on the bed beside me, I’d watched the many things people could do together. Some of it was just nasty and degraded all involved, others had looked exciting, sensual, and some of it had seemed hedonistic.
Some of it, well … some of it was obviously the result of people losing all control and had seemed wildly erotic. I’d gone through lists: lesbian sex, straight sex, orgies, doms and subs; classic porn and new porn, some even labeled
“ladies porn”, meant for the discerning woman. I’d watched it all, and I’d found a lot of it intriguing, but maybe not for me. I always went back to one category, no matter what, though.
The ones where the women were subs to others. I liked the women who were
subs to other women, and the women who were subs to men. It was the sub part that attracted me. The look of pure joy on their faces as they served intrigued me far more than anything else did. It wasn’t something I’d ever tell to anyone; it was my secret, this need inside of me to be in control through subservience.
You’d think with the way I had lived my life in servitude to my family that I’d want to be the domme in this situation, but I didn’t. I wanted to be totally without shame, begging for release, as my body sang with life. I wanted my control to be in an expert’s hands, not my own. Maybe then I’d find freedom, though an odd form of it, I’d admit.
This wasn’t something I’d decided on suddenly. I’d thought about it for quite a few years now, and when I’d met Roxie and she told me about her club, I’d known I’d finally found a way into the world I’d been locked out of. Her world would be my world soon.
4
DYLAN
“W hat’s your poison?” the bartender asked, and I stared dully at
the man. A long brown beard adorned his face, tight khaki
pants clashed with the sophisticated haircut, and for some unknowable reason, suspenders over a white t-shirt with Pink Floyd emblazoned across the front. The whole look, clashed in my mind, and I stared at him.
Then a word popped into my head, and I relaxed. Hipster. “Beer please, thanks.”
He gave me a nod, passed along a beer, and I headed off in the direction of the stage. I had spent another day fruitlessly looking for land to develop. At this point, I’d even take a large house that I could turn into apartments, though, small ones. I wanted to be in this place, this part of the world, to get away from my life in Kansas.
I needed to be away from it all, but I wouldn’t get that, not until someone else came along to take the lead from me. My own child or someone I took under my wing. I might yet find a wife, settle down, have a child, but I didn’t see it coming. Not yet.
I was only thirty-two, I’d have time; I reminded myself as I took a seat.
Roxie was on the stage, weaving her magic as always. The woman was amazing
to watch, I’d give her that. I looked around and appreciated the décor, yet again.
It wasn’t trashy, the kind of place you’d expect it to be from the exterior. It was done tastefully, even if it was decorated in the cliché black and red colors that are so prevalent in such places.
