by Amy Valenti
Grammar and cleverness. Shit. I was intrigued. Shit. I need to stop being intrigued. I shouldn't be so flattered she assumed there was more to me. I knew there was more to me. It just wasn't any of her business.
I left the room and went to let Miranda know the room would be empty soon. It was going to be an evening of beer, tacos, and masturbation for me.
I would need to amend the ad again. I wondered what it would cost me.
Later that evening, I uploaded my new ad to several sites without my picture, and checked my messages. I had a handful of profiles, but I was discouraged. None were particularly catching my eye, but I came across one in particular everyone at Dishabille knew to avoid. Brigit. She apparently fucked over Miranda's brother, stalked him a bit, tried to go through one of his friends to get him back, then Miranda had to ban her from the property because she'd lost her mind. I doubt she would last the full half hour on her knees, and for some reason, I was in the mood for cruelty.
I wasn't proud of it. And it was something I could keep under control with regular sex of the rough sort.
I shot off a message for Brigit to meet me at Dishabille next week. I would talk to Miranda first, of course.
Chapter Three.
30. M.
Patience required.
Obedience required.
No contrived scenes.
Benzodiazepines encouraged.
Serious inquiries only.
Safety nonnegotiable.
I do not play.
“So, how was last week's girl? Miranda asked as she tidied up the bar.
“Ever so promising. Until she insisted I go bareback. She wasn't interested once I refused.”
“Wow. What a dangerous way to go about getting pregnant.”
“I know. When I asked how she knew I was clean, she said she could tell by how fast I could tear open a condom wrapper.” I smiled at Miranda's laugh.
“That's the funniest thing I've heard all month.”
“Speaking of funny, that Brigit girl answered my ad. We're meeting tonight.” I was sure Miranda would be fine with letting me, so long as I humiliated the bitch, and gave her the details later. “I'm going to sneak her in.”
Miranda shut the register. “Just this once.”
I nodded. It was Happy Hour and Dishabille was slow. Miranda was getting the bar ready for the evening. She gave me free beer and I was not one to pass it up.
“What are you going to do to her?”
I smiled. She was speaking my language. “Same old. Blindfold her. Hands behind her back. Make her kneel. Then do a crossword.”
She laughed. “Are you actively trying to find someone, or do you just enjoy being a bastard?”
“Both, I'm sure. It's like the women who answer my ad think I'm playing a role, and I don't know how to convince them otherwise. I don't know how much clearer I can be, but it's always misconstrued.”
“Since they're playing a role, it's not far-fetched for them to assume you are, too. I've talked to some who think all of it is a game, and most of it is. But, there are about a dozen of you that are pretty serious and don't want your time wasted.” Miranda picked up the Austin Chronicle and thumbed to the back. “Have you thought of reading ads yourself? Might be something in there. I might've circled a few for you.” She pushed the paper toward me.
“Maybe I'll look through this while I have Brigit on her knees. Is it unethical to make her blow me, do you think? I'm getting kinda desperate.”
Miranda shook her head. “I don't particularly care what you do with her. But just do me a favor and come on her face.”
“Oh my God.” I nearly choked on my beer. “I'm going to come on her face. I'm going to make her suck on my balls while I jerk off, then come on her face. Jesus. You are full of excellent ideas. Why aren't we together?” She was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Untouchable. Severe. Sexy. Short black bob and lips so red, you can't help but stare at her mouth.
“Jesus, Tyre. Because I would fucking murder you for coming on my face. And I'm quite smitten with someone else.”
I believed her. I still laughed, though. “You've never submitted to anyone, have you?”
“Nope. I'm strangely not into most of this stuff.” She waved her hand around the room. “A little bondage is fun sometimes.”
“Then what are you into? A vanilla girl wouldn't open up a fetish club.” There has always been something about Miranda. I thought maybe she was a Domme, but she denies it.
“A vanilla girl who wanted to secure her future would open one, though. Kink is where the money's at.”
“I'll get it out of you soon enough. Maybe I should ask your boyfriend.”
“Ask him. He'll let you know how very fun missionary is.”
I smiled at her. “I'm wondering if I should just settle for that.”
“Depends. What are you after?”
“I'm ready to find a girl. I won't say 'the one', but I'd like someone to share my life with. To put up with me.” I revealed way more than I had wanted.
Miranda didn't say anything for a moment. I thought maybe she hadn't heard me. But, she had. “Mr. Power, that's what we all want, whether we admit it or not. We all fear rejection. We all desire acceptance. We crave love, even when we're fighting it.”
I showed her my dimples. I'd always adored it when she called me Mr. Power. It reminded me of my mother who had a mad crush on Tyrone Power. Tyrone was a whole lot of name to strap a skinny white boy with. It took me forever to grow into it. Parker didn't have the same impact as Power, but I liked the simplicity of it. I needed simplicity after convincing every person I'd ever met that, yes, my name was indeed Tyrone.
“See, all these girls blindfolded, and they never see that smile.”
“Some see it.”
“The crazy ones see it.”
“Ah. Point.”
She sighed. “I don't know what to tell you. I sort of fell into Nick. Just accidentally. I wasn't looking. He wasn't looking, but the chemistry was instant. Some days I still wait for my world to fall apart, because it doesn't seem possible. I was cautious for months. Not physically, but mentally. Now it's everything. Just fucking everything, and he could ruin me. I trust he won't.”
Listening to her made me wistful. “How long?”
“Coming up a year. He's taking me somewhere. He won't tell me where, but he's calling it a naked holiday, so I imagine somewhere beachy. And you're on call for damage control, Tyrone. I'll be giving all the boys and Stella your number. Alex as well. They've all convinced me the place runs itself, and there aren't any themes coming up.”
“It will be fine. I mean, what do you do anyway, besides standing around looking gorgeous and intimidating?
“That's pretty much it. The boyfriend does my paperwork. We...barter.” She blushed just a bit.
I laughed. “I'm pleased for you. I'd be happy to help out if needed.”
“Thanks. I really really appreciate it. This is my baby.” She looked around her club proudly.
“And a pretty baby it is.”
Brigit lasted all of eight minutes on her knees. I praised her anyway. She was naked except for a skin-colored corset and her face was overdone. I'd never had a lipstick ring around my cock, but I was looking forward to it. “Do you think that shade of lipstick on your mouth would look good around my cock?”
She smirked at me and climbed onto the sofa.
She wasn't interested in a Dom at all, and hopefully by the time I was finished with her, she would just leave us all alone, but I don't think she was the type to learn from her mistakes.
I let her take out my hard cock from my jeans, and I was in her throat a half second later. My head hit the back of the sofa, and I closed my eyes.
After a few minutes, I felt her wiggle around annoyingly, and I opened my eyes and looked around. Her ass was in reach and she was shaking it, hoping I would touch her. I wasn't interested.
“Are you going to finish anytime soon? I can't feel my lips.”
>
I was almost there. “Let me help you out a bit. Get down on the floor and keep me wet.” She slithered down, and started licking at the base unpleasantly. “You can come again, right?”
“Of course I can.” Eventually. I kept my breath steady, and I made sure it was unexpected for her. She looked confused when the first shot hit her between the eyes. I couldn't have planned it better. As she went to wipe it away, she didn't account for the rest that hit her face. I didn't account for it either. She was covered, and it was difficult not to laugh.
I kept my eyes shuttered. “Give me a few minutes to recover, and I'll give you the best fucking you've ever had.” Really really hard not to laugh.
Predictably, she wasn't down with that. She ran for the bathroom, and the water ran forever. I texted Miranda.
First shot was her forehead. Second, third, and fourth were pretty much all over her face. I don't think she wants to have sex with me anymore. :(
OMG O.M.G.
Chapter Four.
Quiet my mind.
Take it slow.
Transcendent obedience.
Please contact first.
jmontague at gmail
“Transcendent obedience, Miranda? Really? She sounds spacey as fuck. I can't deal with crystals and tarot cards.” I came to Dishabille again to gossip about Brigit. Miranda had an ad for me.
“Like yours are any better. Her succinctness rivals yours. You should be impressed. And maybe the New Age types are good with patience.”
I shrugged.
“Look. I wouldn't steer you wrong. I have a good feeling about this one. I consulted my crystals this morning. All signs point to it not being Mercury Retrograde.” She poured herself a ginger ale and sat across from me.
“What? Mercury Retrograde?” I eyed her ginger ale.
She shrugged. “I think Mercury Retrograde is supposed to be bad.”
“It sounds bad. Which bit gives you a good feeling?” I was ninety-nine percent done with ads.
“She wants you to email first. And if you email her, and she agrees to meet with you, I'll give you the room for free for the evening. If she opts for a second time, free room again.”
We all have our price, and that was more than agreeable. “Third time, fourth time, wedding, and honeymoon?”
“No, no, definitely yes, and a discount.”
She was a thorough friend. “Why is this so important to you?”
“Because the longer you do this, the more jaded you'll be. That shit only gets worse with age.”
I tipped my bottle to her glass. “I'll contact her.”
Later on that evening, after more tacos and beer, I opened up my anonymous email client and initiated a chat. I left the screen open while I channel surfed. I wasn't sure when she would answer me, or even if she would. Thankfully, I had an answer to that pretty quickly. She contacted me within the hour.
T>I read your ad in the Chronicle. I'm interested in getting together.
J>Are you a Dom?
T>Of a sort.
J>How much experience do you have?
Great. I was being interviewed. If I would have thought two seconds about it, I would have been prepared, but I just assumed I'd be jacking off to my webcam.
T>Quite a lot. I'm out of practice and contrary, but trying to find my way again.
J>What way is that?
T>I'm not exactly sure. Not yet.
Take that.
J>I wasn't expecting such honest and humble answers.
T>I have no reason to lie.
J>I wasn't accusing you of dishonesty. Just making an observation. Surely you must know most people don't like to admit to deficiencies when chatting up potential lovers.
T>Ah. I don't see the deficiencies. Except the contrariness. But that's on purpose. What is it you're after?
J>I'm not sure I can communicate it. To be submissive definitely. I crave sensory deprivation and leaving someone in complete control. The problem is, I don't know what I want to happen when I'm out of control. I feel like it might be difficult for some Doms if I'm defining the parameters.
This was interesting and thorough. Jesus, Miranda had been right. I'd been entirely too foolish to not have seen the potential of this sort of communication. I loved to feel out instant chemistry in person, but maybe that wasn't practical. Or realistic.
T>I see what you mean. Part of our job is to help you push your boundaries, and you trusting only me to do so, but it's wise to establish boundaries first. You said you wanted to quiet your mind. We can start with that. We can ease into touch. 'No' or any phrases of negation will be your safewords at first, until you trust me completely. Then we can go from there.
She didn't say anything for a while, and I read and reread what I said. Maybe I frightened her.
J>Monogamy. I would require it.
Of course. She had just been thinking. I frowned at the relief I felt.
T>As would I. Do you feel comfortable telling me about any of your previous experiences?
J>I don't really have many. Just boyfriends. Since it was so hard to communicate what I wanted, when I didn't even know exactly what that was, it mostly led to spankings with no context.
T>Are spankings out?
J>They didn't do a thing for me out of context, so I imagine once I've got myself figured out, it would be fine.
J>I apologize if this seems silly. I don't want to waste your time.
T>No apologies necessary. I think most people should be more cerebral about it. Even me. I'm so used to the things I want, and I need my own boundaries pushed. It's healthy. This would be quite new for me. Having someone who is self-aware, and wanting to stretch that. Honestly, I was a little worried with the 'transcendent' bit.
J>Yeah. Sorry about that. I really didn't know how to put it. I want something a bit more than the norm, I think. But I'm not fully versed on the norm.
T>It's fine. I'm glad I contacted you. I've been in such a rut.
J>What sort of rut?
T>Not quite knowing what I want. Being unrealistic. Self-sabotage.
J>All points to the fear of rejection.
J>Sorry if that was out of line. Psych major.
A Psych major. Just what I needed. I couldn't tell if my internal dialog was being sarcastic or not.
T>:) It's fine. I guess that's true. I don't look at it like that, though. I've convinced myself I'm incompatible with everyone.
J>Yes, you did mention contrariness.
It was really hard to tell her tone without any emoticons. I'd try to be funny.
T>Sometimes I pretend it's a virtue.
J>Contrary and delusional. I can recommend you to someone.
I laughed. She had to be joking with me. I hoped she was joking with me.
We agreed to meet the following Monday. I would create simple parameters that included increased touch, but she didn't want to know particulars. She wasn't keen to have sex. She admitted it was possible she might get caught up in the moment, but she wanted to trust me to keep that in check. I felt she might be testing me, and while it irritated me, I had to remember this was new and scary for her.
I wasn't the only one seeking. That was important. I needed to go into this thinking it wasn't going to fail. A half hour on one's knees wasn't even a thing, even though I utilize it for failure. The girls I had been picking weren't right.
That next Monday, I was a wreck. I'd sent her instructions the night before: 7PM, Wear comfortable underthings, ask for Miranda Marchand and tell her you need the key to T's room, acclimate yourself to your surroundings, and choose a blindfold from the room if desired. At 7:15PM, be in the center of the room, on your knees, in just your underthings, with your hands behind your back. I won't be a moment after.
We had messaged each other occasionally the past week. Usually her clarifying her expectations, and making sure she was clear on mine. It would have irritated me, but I genuinely enjoyed chatting with her. She seemed rather uptight, but curious, but if that was her, then who wa
s I to judge?
I found out she managed a suicide hot line. She was their resident Psychologist. When she asked what I did, I was vague. Security could be a number of things, and I hoped if we decided to move ahead and try for something she wouldn't think I lied.
It was 7:14PM, and I had only a few more minutes to pace. I had wanted to catch a glimpse of her, but Miranda said she was already in the room. She told me she was cute, a little nervous, and to not terrorize the poor girl or she wouldn't let me back in. She was a bitch, but sometimes a little tough love was necessary.
At 7:17, I opened the door, and my breath caught in my throat.
Chapter Five.
jmontague.
J. Montague.
Juliet Montague née Capulet. I should've caught that immediately, but I never expected to cross paths with her again.
She was just as I remembered her. Her hair was maybe a little lighter, and a little longer, but not by much.
Brilliant fucking job, Tyrone.
She was beautifully submissive. On her knees in the middle of the room with her hands behind her back and a scarf around her eyes. I even recognized the bra and panties, as she was normally a creature of habit, and it brought a lump to my throat. Did she know this was me? How was I meant to play this? If she didn't know, she would momentarily. She was always so fucking brilliant. Too smart for me.
