Page 4 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
“Okay, let’s not call me vanilla like it’s an insult,” Jaz jumps in, smiling. “I like to turn my freak up sometimes, too. Just notas much as you. Luckily, Micheal isn’t interested in plugging me up.”
“Oh my god, I shouldn't have told you guys anything. I’m never going to live this down,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“Bitch,never,” Jaz adds.
As the group descends into laughter again, I find myself thankful that I have friends like this. Jazmine Barnes—now Carmicheal—has been my best friend since I was seven and she was eight, when our parents moved next door to each other in South Philly. My father greeted hers as the two of them were mowing their lawns at the same time, which led to my dad inviting their entire family over so that the kids could play with toys while the parents played spades. The moment the door swung open and I saw Jazmine standing next to her parents with wide eyes and a smile bright enough to blind me, I knew we’d be friends for as long as we had access to each other. Our parents played that card game until midnight before spending the next two hours just talking about life, laughing loud enough for it to echo down the street. I knew they’d all be friends forever, too, and I was right. To this day, the Washingtons and Barnes hang out at least once a week, and their daughters still do as well, just from different houses now that we’re grown.
Jaz has seen me through all of my craziness. When my boyfriend cheated on me in college, she drove to Temple University and confronted him in front of all of his friends. She didn't even give me a chance to tell her not to do it. I called her crying, and the second I said, “Terrance cheated on me,” she hung up without uttering a word. Jaz is what anyone would call a ride or die friend, and I love her to death. She has stood by my side through every relationship, wardrobe phase, and hair change, cheering me on as I switched from all black to earth tones, and from braids to goddess locs. I don't know what I’d dowithout her, which is why I told Michael I’d murder him in his sleep if he ever broke her heart.
Micheal smiled his way into Jaz's heart seven years ago. She’d just turned twenty-five and we went out to celebrate the occasion at Club Asylum, which can be a bit sketchy, but it’s still one of the most popping clubs in Philly. We entered the club as a group of women, and left with Michael talking in Jaz’s ear while he punched his number into her phone. It feels like the two of them have been inseparable ever since, and I love that for her. Micheal is a good guy who likes to provide and make his woman smile. What more could a girl ask for?
As for Jeremiah, he’s the only person from my job at Sandcastle that I choose to hang with outside of work. I’ve been in marketing since I graduated college, and used my degree to become a marketing assistant at Sandcastle, one of Philly’s biggest ad agencies. As I worked my way up the ladder, Jeremiah Arnold was hired just below me. As the loud and proud gay man in the building, I knew we’d hit it off and have lots in common, as I am the loud and proud member of the BDSM lifestyle. People who don't know shit about shit will look at both of us like we’re crazy, which is exactly why we love and support each other. We’ve been friends for six years, moving up at Sandcastle and making a name for ourselves during the day, and embracing people who love us for who we are at night.
Together Jeremiah, Jazmine, Michael, and I make up the world’s best friend group. Even though we give each other shit for literally everything, it’s all done out of love, and any of us would gladly help the other hide a dead body if it came down to it.
“I don't think you should switch it up, Nia,” Michael says, crossing one leg over the other. “You may have had a handful of rough situations, but we all know that this is who you truly are and what you really want, so don't go changing it up now.”
“It wouldn't work anyway,” Jazmine adds. “You like what you like, girl. Even if you could bury it for a little while, eventually it would dig its way back up, and if you're with someone who’s not into it, too, it could cause problems. So, you're just going to have to endure.”
I swallow another gulp of wine. “Enduring sucks.”
“Maybe it’s the apps,” Micheal says.
“It’s 2024,” I reply. “This is how single people meet. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe go to a bar or something,” Jeremiah answers.
Michael says, “Hit a club. That’s where I met the love of my life.”
Jaz smiles from ear to ear as I roll my eyes. “Oh, my god. Just rub it right in my face, why don't you.”
“Just saying,” Micheal tacks on with a playful shrug.
“I don't know if any of that will work,” Jaz chimes in. “I’m not sure if what you're looking for is on an app or strutting around some club, but he is out there, Nia. I know it.”
I smile without showing my teeth. “Thanks, Jaz. I hope you're right, because I’m thirty years old and turning thirty-one soon. I’m getting tired of trying to date around.”
“You know I got your back, girl, and it’s going to happen for you. One of these days, the man of your dreams is going to show up, and he’s going to sweep you right off your kinky little feet.”
“Oh yeah? And what will this man look like?” I inquire jokingly.
“I don't know,” Jaz answers. “But you’ll know it when you see him. He’ll be exactly what you need: a man’s man—a Dom’s Dom who walks in and owns the room. He’ll worship every inch of your beautiful brown skin. He’ll look you in those deep brown eyes and tell you that he respects all of your limits, right before he disrespects you exactly the way you like it.”
“Well damn,” I say with wide eyes and a smile. “I think we should drink to that.”
“Hell yeah. Everybody raise your glass,” Micheal says as he stands and moves to the center of the living room. The rest of us carefully get up and join him, pushing our glasses up in the air next to his. “Here’s to Nia, and knowing the man of her dreams is on his way with whips, chains, blindfolds, and an unshakable respect for her boundaries. To freakiness!”
“To freakiness!” we all say in unison as our glasses clink together and we knock back our drinks.
I finish off my wine and embrace the buzz as it swallows me. This is what I need right now—friends and a strong buzz—to distract me from the fact that another date went off the rails and there’s no hope in sight. Maybe Micheal’s toast will be the wish I need to make it all better, because things certainly can’t get much worse.
Three
“Damn, I’m about to walk out the door. Why are you calling me already?”
“Girl, you need to hurry up and get here. It is goingdownat the office,” Jeremiah says over the speaker of my cell as I grab my coffee and head toward the front door.
I snatch my keys off the hook and struggle to pull the door closed as I scoot out backward. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
