Playing Dom

by Sky Corgan

  Though I had decided to stay away from the lifestyle, I didn't really feel like going back to my old ways either. Picking up random ass had lost its appeal. Maybe I just needed a little while to get over everything. Taking a break wouldn't kill me.

  I spent my afternoons watching movies, playing video games, and visiting my parents. The incident with Chet inspired an intensified hatred for my father. Every time I went to visit with my mother, I found myself watching him like a hawk and checking her for bruises and cuts. Apparently, since she had been diagnosed with cancer, he had turned a new leaf, realizing that he was about to lose the woman whom had put up with his shit for thirty-five years. It gave him a new-found appreciation for her, one that I prayed would last. I swore to God that if he touched her while she was sick, she would not die before him.

  The weekend was quickly approaching, and I found myself at a crossroad. To go out or stay home. That was the question. Even though I had been pretty good throughout the week, having regular sex had given me cravings I couldn't deny. I didn't feel like looking for someone new to bone, but I also didn't feel like having a date with Rosie Palmer and her five sisters either. It was a bit of a conundrum.

  Laziness took over, and I decided to stay home. Friday bled into Saturday with a mess of distractions and pizza. It felt weird sitting on my ass doing nothing, and I eventually got fed up with it and went to the gym for an hour to make myself feel at least somewhat productive. Then I came back to the apartment and cleaned before sitting in front of my computer again to waste the rest of the afternoon.

  When I opened my email, I was surprised to find a message from the fetish website. I silently cursed myself for not deleting my profile. There was no point in getting these emails now, not when they were only going to remind me of what I was missing and what I couldn't have in this miserable fucking town. My mouse rolled over the check box to delete the email, and then curiosity got the better of me, and I ended up opening it instead.

  To my surprise, the message was from Talia. Just seeing her name caused my heartbeat to quicken. This was probably an SOS message, or a threat from Chet channeled through Talia. He was petty enough to pull some bullshit like that.

  With a sigh, I read the message.

  Hey Micah,

  Thanks for taking care of me the other night. I never really got to thank you, so I thought that maybe you'd like to come over for dinner. I make awesome enchiladas. At least, that's what my ex told me.

  I know this is kind of short notice, so I'll understand if you can't come. You know where I live. The enchiladas will be ready around eight o'clock. I hope that's not too late for you. Hope to see you later tonight.

  Talia

  I looked at my watch. It was seven o'clock.

  My body had never moved faster to get ready to go somewhere. I pulled on a tight-fitting polo and some loose designer jeans, then I messed with my hair for a few minutes before grabbing my keys and heading out the door. With any luck, her offer would be legit, and she wouldn't just be playing the she-wolf to lure me into some trap that Chet devised. It sucked being so paranoid, but I honestly wouldn't put it past the guy to do something like that.

  During the whole drive over to Talia's apartment, I thought about the night of the play party. Not the bad parts, but the pleasant time while I was kissing her soft skin. Just thinking about her lying there shirtless awakened my inner demon, the piece of me that only thought about sexual gratification. If she was calling me over, and this wasn't a trap, the monster would probably get fed. It was definitely worth leaving the apartment for.

  I pulled up in front of her unit and took long steps towards the door, straightening myself up before ringing the doorbell. She opened it with a winning smile. There was no sign of Chet, and for that I felt relieved.

  “Come in,” Talia said, stepping away from the door to allow me inside.

  The smell of Mexican food rushed to greet me. I looked around her apartment like it was the first time I had seen it. The night of the play party, I had been completely focused on giving Talia aftercare, so I hadn't really had a chance to get acquainted with the place aside from the bathroom and kitchen. Those two rooms, I already knew my way around fairly well. Her decorating style screamed feminine Ikea, but her fashion sense was completely sexy. My eyes climbed up her long legs toward the skimpiest pair of shorts I had ever seen. Across her ass in big pink letters was the word Juicy. Damn right that ass was juicy. It didn't even need a label. To compliment the shorts, she was wearing a tiny pink tank top, leaving little to the imagination. Had she meant to bring me here just to seduce me? If that was the case, it would have taken less than the outfit to get the job done.

  “How have you been?” she asked, drawing my mind away from lecherous thoughts.

  “Bored,” I replied, wondering how long this friendly charade would last. We both knew what I was really there for.

  “Take a seat at the table. The food's ready. I just need to pull it out of the oven. I hope you like Mexican.” Talia gestured to her small dining room table, and I sat down in one of the chairs.

  “I wouldn't be here if I didn't.” That was a lie. I would have come even if she was serving chicken livers. My focus was less on the meal and more on dessert.

  I sat there like a good boy, watching her take the enchiladas out of the oven and sexualizing her the entire time. Patiently, I waited while she served me, trying not to stare too much, not that it mattered. She wouldn't look at me, perhaps because she was nervous. We didn't know each other very well, but that would change before the end of the night, I was sure.

  “There you go,” Talia said in a chipper voice as she slid a plate of food in front of me. It smelled delicious. Cheese enchiladas with rice and beans and what appeared to be homemade tortillas. A proper Mexican feast.

  “Thank you,” I replied, picking up my fork and waiting for her to sit down before I dug in.

  “It's the least I could do after you rescued me from Chet.” She fixed her own plate and sat across from me, glancing up with a shy smile before turning her attention to her food.

  I took a few quick bites. Everything tasted amazing.

  “How are things with you and Chet?” I asked, not bothering to hide the disdain from my voice.

  “There is no me and Chet,” her tone took a dark turn.

  “Oh. So he never tried to get back with you?”

  “He did, but I told him I'm not interested. I was never really a good submissive anyway.”

  “I'm surprised he let it go that easily.”

  “He didn't. He did everything you said he would. He begged, told me what a great submissive I was, told me things would be different if I came back to him. I wasn't buying it.”

  “Good. I'm glad you stuck up for yourself.”

  “Yeah. I had been blinded by my own stubbornness. I was determined to fit into the lifestyle, and I thought he was the best Master out there. I mean if no other subs can handle him, then he has to be the real thing, right?”

  “You never had a Dom before him?”

  “No.” Talia shook her head. “He was my first, and my last. I'm not interested in that aspect of the lifestyle anymore.”

  “I can't really blame you. There are so many pretenders and people who abuse their positions in the lifestyle. It's part of the reason I don't do it anymore. Too much bullshit.”

  “Oh, I'm still very interested in the lifestyle,” she told me, giving me a strange hopeful look before averting her eyes again. “I mean I wasn't at first. Not after what Chet did to me. But then I really sat down and thought about it. It doesn't have to be horrible. I mean I can still get what I want without being a submissive.”

  “You're losing me.” I glanced up at her in confusion.

  “I think I want to be a Mistress now.”

  “You want to be a Domme,” I hesitated.

  “Yeah.” Talia nodded. “I think it would be fun. I could make my own rules, get what I want, and not have to worry about being abused.”
/>   I sighed internally, thinking about how we had just talked about pretenders. She was no different than Chet in the sense that she just wanted to use the lifestyle to get what she wanted, damn the rules.

  “Well, I wish you the best of luck in that,” I replied dryly.

  “I'm going to need more than luck. I don't really know what I'm doing, so I'd like to find someone to teach me.”

  “I'm sure you've made some friends at the munches. I remember there being one Domme at the one I met you at.”

  “Mistress Marian.” Talia swallowed a bite of food and shook her head. “I don't want to be like that.”

  “I couldn't really tell if she was good or bad at it, but she didn't command much respect from Chet.”

  “No one commands respect from Chet, because he respects no one.”

  “That's fair.”

  “I just mean that I'm not interested in doing things in the traditional sense. I assume that when you're a Mistress, you can make your subs do whatever you want.”

  “Within reason and boundaries and guidelines, yes.”

  “I was kind of hoping you might be interested in teaching me.”

  I nearly choked on my food from her unexpected request. “Me? Why? I'm not even into the lifestyle anymore.”

  “Well, you keep saying that most people are fakes, so I can only assume that means you know the rules and stuff. Plus, since you're not into the lifestyle anymore, then maybe you won't be so stuffy. I don't know. I don't know you very well yet, but you seem like a nice guy who could be patient with me.”

  “I'm not a woman though. You really need a woman to teach you how to be a good Domme.”

  “Why? I'll want a man as my submissive. Who knows a man's body better than a man?”

  The way she said it made my cock twitch in my jeans. It was certainly an interesting proposition, and one that I was sure would lead to lots of sexy time. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

  “What do you want me to teach you exactly?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe let me practice some things with you so that I don't feel like an idiot when I go to do them with other people.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “I don't know.”

  I sighed, leaning back in my chair, my belly full of good food. “That was excellent.”

  “Thank you. I'm glad you liked my cooking.”

  “I did, very much.”

  “So.” Talia stood and picked up both of our plates to take them to the kitchen. “Are you interested in teaching me?”

  “What's in it for me?” I asked, giving her a provocative look.

  “The pleasure of my company.” She struck an adorable pose, kicking one of her legs back and batting her eyelashes at me. I rolled my eyes at her, but I knew I was lost. How could I possibly resist the chance to spend more time with such a beautiful woman.

  “When do we begin?” I made it sound like it was the worst thing in the world.

  “Well, we can start now, if you'd like. I was thinking I need a sexy Mistress outfit. That will help people to take me seriously.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her. “It's not the outfit that makes you a good Domme.”

  “But it will make men more likely to obey me. Men like sexy outfits, yes?”

  “Yes,” I hesitated, picturing her in all sorts of different outfits, though most of them were admittedly subby. In truth, she'd look good in just about anything, especially naked. Yes, when would we get to the naked part. Hopefully soon. Maybe if I played along enough, she'd reward me for it.

  “So, let's go shopping.”

  “Shopping? Now? You mean online, right?”

  “Nope. We're going to the porn store.”

  I snorted in amusement. “Why would you want to go there?”

  “Because it's the only place with kinky outfits that's open this late.”

  “You're not going to get anything of quality at a porn store. Most of their shit is costumey.”

  “That's why I'm taking you with me. You'll steer me clear of bad decisions. Besides, even if all they have is something costumey, this is just going to be for practice anyway. I can buy a nice outfit later, when I've earned my Mistress stripes.”

  “If you say so.” I smirked, wondering what I had got myself into.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We walked the row of costumes lining the wall, each one with a gorgeous busty model on the cover. I could only hope I'd look half as attractive when I shimmied into one of the tight PVC ensembles.

  Micah was right. Most of them looked like they wouldn't hold together for more than a few wears. The material was thin and cheap, but the prices were high.

  It tickled me that he had given in to my request to teach me more about the lifestyle. In all honesty, I hadn't expected him to say yes, but I had hoped. He was easily enough to manipulate, as most men were, with a giggle and a smile. Chet had been the only man able to resist my feminine wiles, and that had come back to bite me in the ass. While I had always wanted a dominant man in my life, I quickly learned that I also needed a pliable one. The unbending kind weren't fun at all.

  “What about this one?” I asked, pulling a package off the shelf and holding it up to Micah. The woman on the cover was wearing a high-waist corset skirt with a white blouse beneath. It was sexy, but not too revealing.

  “It looks nice, almost teacherish.” He glanced at the model on the cover and then at me, perhaps imagining what I'd look like in the outfit.

  “I was thinking more sexy secretary.”

  “Or that.” His eyes trailed across the line of costumes, but he didn't seem particularly interested in any of them.

  “Help me pick something out,” I told him as I placed the costume back on the rack.

  “You're the one who is going to be wearing it.”

  “I don't like being so covered up. How about this?” I asked, holding up a package that contained a PVC basque with matching lace panties. The basque laced up the front and had cute PVC ruffles lining the top of the bust. It was both extremely revealing and sexy.

  Micah's face lit up when he looked at it, and a smirk played across his lips.

  “You like?” I waggled my eyebrows at him, making him laugh.

  “You'd look gorgeous in it,” he admitted, “but it screams sub.”

  “Fuck it. I love it. I'm buying it. My money. My rules.”

  “Fine by me.” He threw his hands up in surrender, the smile never leaving his face.

  Buying the outfit defeated the purpose of trying to look dominant, but I figured that all I really needed to dominate men was my sexual prowess. We would know soon enough.

  When we got back to my apartment, I sat Micah down on the sofa while I went into my bedroom to try the new outfit on. It looked every bit as good on me as I had imagined, though my boobs were larger than the models, so I ended up with bitchin' cleavage.

  Even though the costume looked amazingly sexy, I couldn't help but be a bit disappointed in myself for buying it. Micah had a real problem with people deviating from the traditional lifestyle, and the outfit definitely was not traditional Mistress to him. Would he not be able to take me seriously in it? I guessed I would just have to try ten times harder on my act to make him see that I could be a good Mistress. And even if it didn't work out, at least I had a new piece of lingerie to enjoy.

  I spent a few minutes curling my hair and fixing my makeup before deciding it was time for the big reveal. For some reason, I felt oddly nervous exposing myself to Micah. Maybe it was because I was concerned about his critical thinking. Perhaps it was because I knew what his expectations were. I'd be presenting myself to him half naked, and he'd already proven to be sexually responsive just from being around me. Would doing this just be an invitation for him?

  You're in control, I reminded myself. That's what being a Mistress is about. Things will happen the way you want them to, or they won't happen at all. You'll have to make him understand that.

  I took a deep breath and approachin
g my bedroom door. The plan had been to walk out with confidence in my step, but instead, I ended up peaking around the corner like a timid little mouse. Micah was hunched over on the sofa with his head hanging low, staring at the carpet. It gave me a good opportunity to rally up my confidence before coming around the corner.

  “What do you think?” I asked, pointing at myself with both hands.

  His gaze turned to me, and he straightened himself, an appreciative smirk quickly crossing his lips. “Sexy.”

  “Dominant,” I said before sitting next to him.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. I like it, and I'm the Mistress, so I decide what's dominant and what's not.”

  He leaned back and furrowed his brow. “Your bruises are still there.”

  “I'm a slow healer.” I shrugged. “At least they don't hurt anymore.”

  “Have you been doing all the things I told you?”

  “I was for a few days, and it did help. They can heal on their own from here.”

  “It still pisses me off that he did that to you.”

  Micah's eyes were incredibly intense, and I could almost feel anger radiating from him. It made me happy that he genuinely seemed to care about me, and sparked other emotions that I wanted to stifle down. The last thing I needed was to jump into a relationship with another guy who had to be in control. That had not served me well with Chet. No, I needed to be in control, no matter what, to make sure that I was never abused again. It was strange to think how much my time with Chet had altered me, changed me as a person.

  “So, are you busy tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “I thought we could get started.”

  “We could get started tonight.”

  I felt his fingertips on my thigh, sending a shiver all the way through my spine. They brushed across my skin softly, and my body responded against my will, a needy part of me coming to life, the part of me that wanted to be held and kissed and forcefully taken. I had anticipated this though, that he would advance on me. He was a man, after all, and I was scantily clad and available. This would not happen unless I was in control of it though. Those were my rules.