Page 2 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
“You’re saying your safe wordright now? We haven't even started yet.”
I let out a long exhale as my head drops so low that my chin hits my chest. If there is one thing that will test whether or not a person claiming to be a Dom actually is one, it’s invoking the safe word. A real Dom will know that the safe word means everything has ended because he or she has gone too far. They will be apologetic and do their best to console their partner, wrapping them in as much comfort as possible to remain trustworthy to the person they care about. Then again, they’d know their submissive well enough to not put them in a position to have to use their safe word.
A fake Dom, on the other hand, will try to make their sub feel bad about bringing the scene to a close. They will use childish tactics, like guilt tripping, in an attempt to coax the sub back into the scene. A fake Dom will feel insulted by the safe word … and they’ll lose their sub forever.
“We’ve done enough,” I reply, standing to pull my pants back up.
“I haven't even touched you yet,” Zane informs me as if his fingers in my mouth don't count.
I sigh. “Zane, it doesn't matter. I used the safe word.”
“But why?”
“The fact that you don't know is a red flag, but I’ll tell you anyway. During our text exchange, I told you I wasn’t into any butt stuff. I don't do plugs. It’s a hard limit.”
His shoulders visibly slump. “But … I don't know. I thought maybe you didn't like it because you hadn't tried it, or maybe you tried it with the wrong person—someone who wasn’t gentle enough. I could show you the right way.”
“No you can’t. I’m not into butt stuff. Period. Hard limit.”
“So you’ve never tried it?”
“I don't want to try it.”
“But every girl I’ve been with has loved it.”
“Good for them. I'm not interested in changing who I am just because people I’ve never met enjoyed something I’ve never tried. I’m not budging on this, Zane.”
He pushes out a long, frustrated breath. “This is such bullshit. So what? You're going to call the entire thing off now? What did I spend all that time texting you for then?”
When I look over at him, I see an intense scowl on his face and anger in his gaze. This is another sign of an asshole masquerading as a Dominant. He wants to intimidate me now, hoping his display of anger will put me back into a submissive role, but Zane clearly doesn't understand submissives. Just because I am a sub who wants to be controlled and dominated doesn't mean I’m weak or afraid. It’s the opposite, actually. I want a Dom who can earn the right to dominate over me, and I will fucking crush anybody who isn’t worthy. My submission is not weakness, it is strength of the highest caliber.
“Apparently, you spent all that time texting me so that you could be embarrassed tonight. I’m not intimidated by your annoying glare or your guilt trip over the fact that you messed up. I told you my hard limits, and if you paid attention to any part of our texts, it should've beenthatpart. I don't do butt stuff. Never have, never will, especially not for some asshole who can’t even bother to clean up a little before inviting a woman over.”
“I knew it,” Zane snaps, standing up quickly and slamming his hands on his hips. “I knewI’d get this sort of attitude out of you. Of course. I should've seen it coming. Fucking prude.”
“I guess you should've if you were planning on pulling a butt plug from your fucking junk drawer. How about you stick that up your own ass. I’m outta here.”
“Maybe I will,” Zane fires back, shocking the hell out of me. “Because I’m not a fucking prude like you!”
“Boy, fuck you,” I snip as I head for the door. “How about you get yourself together before calling yourself a Dom, and clean up this nasty ass apartment before you catch salmonella or a staph infection from how gross it is in here. Dirty bitch.”
“Fuck you, ice queen!” Zane barks, but I don't waste my time turning around again.
I make sure to grab everything I came with so that I don't have to ever come back to this landfill, and I slam the door behind me when I leave.
Another meet up. Another fake Dom. Another disappointing attempt at finding something real. I couldn't possibly be more tired of this shit.
Dear Diary,
What the hell is going on? My luck can't possibly be this bad, can it? Zane was a nightmare, and what bothers me most is that I didn't see it coming. Unfortunately, too many women understand the feeling of blaming themselves for not being able to see into the future and dodging an oncoming asshole. I know it’s not my fault, but I've been at this long enough to know better. Right? I've seen enough and experienced enough pieces of shit to be able to spot them a mile away. At least, that was what I thought before meeting Zane. So many red flags! How does this keep happening to me?
I knew it the moment I walked into his raggedy ass apartment that smelled like blue cheese and Axe body spray. But my desire to find love clouded my vision and I went through with it anyway, spitting in the face of my better judgment. I have to start doing a better job of pointing out theissues so that I can swerve past these wannabes. Here is the list of what Zane showed me.
Dirty as hell
