Page 7 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
“Oh, you know I will,” I reply.
As I sip my drink down to its final remnants, I lift my phone from the table and open up FET again. The tequila has started to work its magic, and I'm suddenly wishing I had someone to go home to. That’s the thing about being single—you don't realize how lonely you are until it really hits you. Back when I was dating Terrance, I was convinced that being single would be much more fun than being committed to someone. I thought everybody who was unattached was out there living their best life, hooking up with new people every other day and never feeling bored or alone. In my head, it was all fun and games for them, while Terrance and I had grown used to each other and too comfortable with taking our familiarity for granted. We always think the grass is greener on the other side until we reach it and see it was just a mirage, the color fading as soon as we give up what we didn't appreciate enough.
I’m glad Terrance and I broke up, and I’ve certainly had my fun as a single woman, but I’m thirty now. The fun and games have started to turn into stress and drama, and while I’m gladly a kinky girl, it would be so nice to have someone to be kinky with every day. Someone who knows my kinks and has mastered how to play with them, tantalizing and teasing each one until I’m on the brink of explosion. I want someone—justoneperson—who I belong to.
I crave a Dom who knows how to own me and chooses to do it every single day. Someone who can handle emotions and mood changes that come with the ups and downs of life, and consoles me when I’m frustrated before allowing me the freedom to let go. This is why I don't understand when my friends say they’renot into kinks or submission. Why wouldn't they want the privilege of letting it all go after a maddening day at work? They don't understand what it’s like submitting to someone you trust with your life, and allowing them to remove every stitch of stress from your flesh. Giving it all to a person who can handle it for you, massaging you with pain and pleasure until the world melts away.
Yeah, I’m definitely tired of being single, but there’s another part of it that is even more annoying than the rest. Dating around has shown me that the prospects are abysmal. I wholeheartedly want to be someone’s good girl, but all I see is men trying so hard to be bad boys that I can tell from a single glance that they are anything but.
“Uh-oh,” Jazmine says. When I look up I see her watching me like a hawk.
“What?”
“I see the way you're scrolling through that phone,” she says, shaking her head. “You’ve got that look in your eye.”
“What look? I don't have a look.”
“Yes, you do. It’s that look you get when you're thinking about your sex life.”
I laugh nervously. “I don't have a sex life look.”
“Oh? Then how come I can tell just from looking at you that you're either scrolling through that BDSM app or swiping through Tinder?”
I freeze, my eyes wide.
“Told you,” Jaz says before laughing.
I laugh with her, but when I look at my phone again, everything is a lot less funny.
“I can't help it,” I state sadly. “You’re so lucky to be married and happy with Micheal. All I want is my own kinky version of that, but these fucking men out here are pitiful. Look at this.” I get up from my side of the booth and sit next to Jaz so she cansee my phone as I look through FET. “As I scroll, just tell me what you think of the guys you see.”
Jazmine nods, and I begin. “Eww. Hideous,” she says on the first guy.
I laugh and keep going.
“Why does this one look like he lives under the stairs in someone’s basement?”
I try to stifle another laugh as I continue scrolling.
“Nia, what is this?” Jaz inquires on the next guy. “There’s no way these are the men on the dating app you're on so often. This guy says he’s into blood play.Bloodplay? Is that what I think it is?”
I nod. “Yes, it is. We don't kink shame, so I’ll just say that’s not for me and move on.”
“Okay. Well, this guy is cute in a sort of ‘I was raised in the wild by rabid dogs’ kind of way. But what is primal play?”
The waitress brings me a second margarita while I laugh at another of Jaz’s insane insults. Once I can breathe again, I try to explain the answer to her question.
“He wants to be the sub in a primal scene,” I begin. “Meaning he wants to be hunted like prey, captured and tied up. The chase turns him on. It’s definitely a thing and can be pretty hot when done right, but I don't want a guy who is a sub, or who looks like they were raised in the wild by rabid dogs.”
I keep scrolling, and every man that comes up is greeted with words of disgust from Jazmine.
Gross.
Terrifying.
Ugly.
Lives with his mom.
