Page 27 of In Her Own Way
Jessica
“It’s Saturday night, and I ain’t got nobody,” Jessica sang as she mopped the bathroom floor. She’d talked herself out of going to Dominique’s that evening. All week at school, she’d fantasized about meeting someone at the dungeon and being pulled to the back room for some no-name, quasi-intimate sex. And afterward, she wouldn’t give the woman her number or even reveal her name. But when the weekend had finally arrived, she couldn’t get up the nerve. Sex with strangers was always a crapshoot. She’d gotten kind of lucky with Cazadora Catalina, though. She was a dungeon lifestyler; the woman was there all the time, almost like she lived there. At first Jessica thought she was a hired Domme like Mistress Starr, but she wasn’t.
It had been just two and a half years before when the cazadora smooth-talked her into an impact session with happy endings for both of them right there in one of the dungeon’s smaller private rooms. Jessica hooked up with her several times in those first few weeks after meeting her. Hooking up, getting the impact she wanted, the humiliation, all of it caused Jessica to break it off with Mistress Marta. That had been a mistake, because the thing that Jessica hadn’t known was that the wordcazadorameant huntress in Spanish. And hunt Catalina did.Jessica’s hopes of finding a life partner, or even a regular play partner, were shattered when she watched the cazadora bring woman after woman to the back rooms night after night. Much to her own chagrin, Jessica got in line and became one of those women. The last time she’d been with the cazadora in one of those back rooms was in early June, over four months ago, just before she moved to Denton Heights. And, although Jessica always hoped the cazadora would have time for her, she always seemed to have another new woman in her arms. Jessica didn’t quite give up hope, but she was realistic. The suave, smooth-talking Cazadora Catalina, who knew how to please a woman, was no longer interested in Jessica.
So, when Jessica woke up that Saturday morning, instead of picking out an outfit to wear to the dungeon, she got to cleaning. As much as she yearned to feel strong arms around her and a dominant tone in someone’s voice telling her what to do, she stayed home. The first step was laundry. She was appalled by how it had piled up when she wasn’t looking. She put new sheets on the bed, and soon the entire apartment, except for the kitchen, had been cleaned.
And even though she spent most of that Saturday morning cleaning and organizing, it seemed like too much energy to get all dolled up to attract a Domme. And how pathetically pathetic would she look standing against the wall waiting for someone to notice her? Maybe if she lost some weight? In answer to that question, she defiantly went to the local Kroger and bought potato chips, French onion dip, and a host of other feel-good snacks. She also bought ingredients to make her grandmother’s spaghetti sauce.
The sauce was now simmering on the stove, and the spaghetti almost a perfect al dente. The garlic bread was done but still warming in the oven. She wasn’t sure what overcame her, but she set the small kitchen table for two. She lit romanticcandles and put out cloth napkins. She filled her plate at the stove, tucked a piece of garlic bread on it, and headed to the table.
“Wine?” she asked her imaginary companion. She nodded and stood up, looking at the empty spot. “Cabernet sauvignon or merlot?” She nodded again and brought the bottle of Cab to the table. She poured one glass, raised it, and heard the imaginary clink of glasses in her head. She took a sip.
“I can’t even picture anyone there.” She pointed to the empty seat. “I’m pathetic.” She wiped at her eyes and then blew the candles out, double-checking to make sure they were out. She picked up her plate, silverware, and wine and headed to the couch. She needed to get caught up on her showVoices Discovered, anyway.
As she ate, she rooted for her favorites, scowled at the one mean judge’s comments, and enjoyed herself. She raised her glass to the sky. “Miss you, Grandma. I made your sauce today. It’ll taste even better all week long as my lunch.”
She looked at the clock. Seven p.m. on a Saturday night. She could grade some worksheets she’d brought home; first-quarter grades were due soon, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Tomorrow. That’s when she’d grade them. Maybe at the coffee shop? But no. It had been a week since she’d gone there and met all those people. She’d felt welcomed but hadn’t gotten up the nerve to go back. They were friendly, but they didn’t know her. She was a total outsider and not part of their clan. Mistress Marta had only been polite. She’d had so much on her mind, right? With her lovely Shanice walking and all that? She’d forgotten how Jessica just dumped her without warning. That must have stung. They had a good thing going. Almost every week, Jessica would make the drive up to Miss Marta’s house and submit to her. Miss Marta was a gentle Domme, so it made perfect sense that she’d end up with alittle.
Regret hit her hard, but she had no idea how to alleviate it. She put her dishes in the sink, the extra food into to-go containers for school next week, and then poured herself another glass of wine. Just because the meal was over didn’t mean the party had to stop.
She called for the furball, who graced her with her presence and circled on her lap until she nudged her down. “Keep me warm, little one.” She opened her tablet and headed straight toKinks. For some reason, the group had become kind of active again. Could it have anything to do with the wonderfully androgynous masc now participating? Jessica was positive that many of the other women in the group had scoured Daddy Vic’s page, just like she had.
This Daddy Vic was probably used to getting all kinds of attention like this. Just like Cazadora Catalina. Was she the love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of Domme, too? “Probably a narcissist,” Jessica muttered as she headed to the group’s discussion page.
She grunted, disgusted with herself. Why was she judging someone she’d never met? That was kind of a fatal flaw in her own character, wasn’t it? Was it more sour grapes? The grapes must be sour because I can’t reach them. The Domme must be an asshole because I can’t have her.
“I’m the asshole,” Jessica muttered out loud to the universe for all to hear.
She scrolled down to the “Male versus Masculine Energy” post. Not much new there, although most of the women agreed with Daddy Vic’s response and said so. Earlier in the week, Jessica had put her stamp of approval on the way Daddy Vic had phrased it, and added that masculine and feminine energies complemented one another, like yin and yang. She didn’t get any responses to her post, but she was used to that. Whatever. Seeing the large number of responses under DaddyVic’s comment, though, reminded her of the women lining up for Cazadora Catalina. See? All Dommes were the same.
She then scrolled down to the “How Do You Say No” topic. There were finally a few responses. That had only taken an entire week.
Rachels_Toy: I don’t say, no. Rachel puts me in a cage if I do. LOL
Jessica had responded earlier in the week.
Juicy_Babe:LOL. I bet she does. You love it.
Rachels_Toy: You know I do.
Oh, wow. Daddy Vic responded, too. Jessica leaned forward.
Daddy Vic: Saying no can be one of the hardest things to do. They all say, “Have boundaries. Enforce them. Don’t let anyone make you compromise your limits. I’m sure your question, Juicy_Babe, wasn’t just about BDSM relationships (since you mentioned boss and family). None of us wants to disappoint anyone. Disappointing a boss can get you fired, and there goes your livelihood. My family has a couple of sayings: “Loyalty to family” and “Family first.” My cousins and I got this drilled in our heads growing up, but I’m questioning it now after all these years. Not going to get into it here, but I’ve had boundaries crossed in the name of “Family first.” Protecting your job at the expense of something else (dignity, sanity, power, etc.) is a tough call. Only you can weigh the repercussions ofsaying no. (Second post coming next. I have a lot to say on this, I guess).
Daddy Vic: I had a sub recently who didn’t say no. And…I arrogantly thought all was well with her. I pushed limits. I thought what I was asking her to do was harmless. I actually thought I was helping her explore a new kink. It was definitely going to benefit me, that was for sure. But wow. I didn’t see it. I’m not blaming her for her inability to say no to me. She was too green. I was supposed to look out for her, right? I didn’t. It still eats me to this day. She’s happily married now to a wonderful Domme, but I needed to learn to say no to my own selfishness. And now I question a lot of things. (Okay, that’s enough from me. I’m bored here at work).
Jessica sat back, stunned. Daddy Vic had answered her directly. She’d even named her in one of the posts. Her comments had been so thoughtful. Okay, the woman still might have a million chicks lining up for a go with her, but Jessica couldn’t help pushing those imaginary women out of the way and putting herself at the head of the line. Stupid, she knew, but this was her group, and she could interact how she saw fit, right?
Juicy_Babe:You hit it right on the head, Daddy Vic. My boss asked me… No, he TOLD me to do something, and before I knew what had happened, he informed my immediate supervisor that I’d be doing it. I had a meeting with that supervisor, and she didn’t seem to hear my reservations. “I’m not qualified,” I’d said. “I’ve never done anything like this.” “You’ll figure it out,” she’d said. And when the frig do I have time to figure it out? It’s a hugeundertaking, and she didn’t offer me any help. So, do I put aside my other obligations (I can’t) while I do this wonderful extra thing they both seem to want me to do, without even asking whether I want to? This thing they want me to do is not in my contract and is NOT paid. It’s extra. It’ll make them look good, I guess. And if I don’t do it, I’m the only one who will look bad. Grr.
Jessica hit send before she could rethink her comments. Wow, it felt good to vent. Somehow, and she wasn’t sure how, her wineglass was empty. She was about to go in search of more in the kitchen, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to disturb the sleeping queen on her lap, and wine-fueled responses were never a good idea. So, she sat right where she was and scrolled down to the topic she’d posted last week about impact play. Ooh, nice. There were a ton of responses to her two-part question.
lesbo_submisso:Impact is my life. I love showing off the bruises she leaves on my body. The ones on my breasts are perfect. Her marks show the world how much I trust her.
“A bruise junky,” Jessica muttered. “You have your kinks, I have mine.”
Even though lesbo_submisso had a weird vibe, it didn’t matter. Jessica wanted everyone to feel like they belonged.
