Step-Mommie Dearest

It was a pretty common opinion, Jessie noticed, one she'd heard voiced lots of times before. When this girl told her the same, it began to stir up some mixed feelings in her. On one hand, she was glad this girl and so many others around were standing up for their individuality and autonomy...on the other hand, after hearing, "I don't need a man (or "woman" (but usually "man")) to complete me..." for the she-didn't-know-how-many-eth time, it sounded just a little repetitive. Eventually, her reaction drifted to, "...Okay...well, I can see you don't need one, but...what if you actually wanted one?"

Being a lesbian, obviously, she loved girls. She LOVED girls. They were the most precious thing in the world...but...well, she could very well see herself possibly one day wanting and even needing a mate in her life. And while she conceded that not every girl—straight, gay, bi, whatever—had absolute necessity of a romantic partner, she couldn't help thinking, Well, being your own person's fine and all, but...do you have to automatically reject the idea of needing someone around? Would such an admission of need really be so devastating to your worth as a person? The thought of needing someone struck her as romantic. And kind of hot.

In a bizarre twist, this line of thinking tangented off to a separate but somewhat similar track. One day years ago, just for giggles, she imagined getting to have one of these such strong, independent, autonomous, invincible women to herself, and proceeding to do something that would bend her to Jessie's will—as a dominatrix. How strong and hardened would one of them be, supposing Mistress Jessica stripped her down, bound her up and subjected her to any number of overwhelming trials and tribulations?

To her surprise, the thought, and possibilities of where it could lead, turned her on like mad. Everybody secretly had their own kinks and hidden desires—or so she had been led to believe—and apparently, this was hers. Or one of hers. Eventually, for even more fun, she played a scenario or two out yet further in her mind, incorporating more concrete elements into the mix. How would one of these oh so independent girls like to be taken over Jessie's knee and spanked, like a delinquent youngster, until she cried out to be set free? How would she like to be Lilliputian'd to the ground surrounded by ants, her naked body coated with honey? Just how well would such an invincibly tough woman take to being helplessly staked by her arms, gagged and then touched, grabbed, poked, prodded, groped, stroked, fondled, tickled...caressed...nibbled...molested...

By this point in the fantasy Jessica would have to either do one of two things: 1) step back into reality and eject the thoughts clean from her mind before she began to sweat right through her clothing, or 2) step back into the bathroom, or anywhere she could get a little privacy, hold on to the thoughts and rub herself raw until the proverbial cows came home.

But, all this was really no more than amusing pretend-roleplaying. The idea of actually becoming a real-life femme domme was a little daunting, to say the least. And she was a good, kind person; when the chips were down, would she really be able to put another person through such frightening things? Someone would have to provide her with one hell of a good reason...

Finally, her Dad emerged from his room, dressed for success, and headed for the door. But not before he said and demonstrated how much he loved Jessie and Gretchen. As he lovingly kissed his daughter goodbye, his fiancée smiled with a touched "Aw!" As he passionately kissed his fiancée goodbye, his daughter covered her eyes with a silent, "Ugh."

"Well all right, you two wacky, zany gals!" he concluded, stepping out the door and tossing the morning paper inside. "I'll see you tonight—oh, and maybe you could even hang out today, huh? Have some fun together? I dunno. Just an idea. Bye!"

Slam. They waited for the car to start and pull around the corner.

"I, um, I hope you don't mind, I was...kinda planning to go shopping with a friend of mine today," Jessie said.

"Oh, no, of course! That's perfectly fine," Gretchen waved it off. "You go ahead, sweetie, have fun. We can always do something together another day if you want."

"Hm. That would be interesting...what exactly do you think you and I would do together?" Jessica asked just out of curiosity.

Gretchen shrugged, finishing her coffee. "Oh, I'm sure we could figure something out, sweetie."

Jess was starting to grow just the slightest bit tired of her future step-mother calling her "sweetie." She knew the woman was just trying to be nice and friendly in her own way, but it was beginning to sound redundant, to say nothing of being condescending. She wasn't a child, she was a 23-year-old woman. Her Dad called her "babe" sometimes, but at least he used her name. Besides, he was her Dad. She was calling Gretchen by her name; she'd appreciate the favor reciprocated were it not too much trouble.

After a brief breakfast, they adjourned from the table. Jessie ran off to her room to get out of her pajamas and put on a light shirt, pair of shorts and flip-flops, as Gretchen, who was off work and had the day to herself, plopped in front of the TV in her nightgown with the paper and put her feet up. Jessie returned through the living room a short while later, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"What'cha watching?" she asked Gretchen, more as just idle chitchat then actual interest.

"700 Club."

Jessica's eyes closed in revulsion. Why did I even ask...yes, well, anyway, on THAT note...

"All right, well, I'm gonna take off. Have a good one," she tossed behind her, heading to the front door herself.

"Bye, sweetie!"

SIGH. Slam.

***

August 12th, 10:11 a.m.

Jessie and her newlywed buddy Valerie O'Hanlon got a good jump on the mall, which opened at 10:00 sharp.

"I cannot believe you're married!" said Jessica.

"Seventy-two hours ago, baby doll," Valerie smiled.

"I'm so sorry I missed the wedding!" Jessie exclaimed. "I just got back last night! So close!"

Val laughed. "It's okay."

"Let me get you and Donna something. For a wedding present. Really, it's the least I can do."

"How can I possibly turn that down? But while you're at it, you're probably gonna wanna get Rachel and Holly something too."

"You're kidding me! Them too?!"

"Two weeks ago tomorrow."

"OH my GOD!"

One and a half hours of retail fun later it was lunchtime, so Jessie and Val popped into the northwest side anchor and grabbed their mutual friend who worked there, Rachel Greentree. They three crowded around a table in front of Arby's.

"So, let me see if I've got this: you guys are married now too?" Jessica asked Rachel.

Rachel only waggled her adorned finger with a smile in response, her mouth happily full of roast beef.

"Holy smokes! And I just missed your wedding too!" Jessie lamented, turning to each of her friends. "Unbelievable! You're married...you're married...my Dad's getting married..."

"Wow!" said Rachel, swallowing. "A'right, good for him! Tell him his niece Rache says congrats," she smiled.

"So 'dya get to meet your step-Mom yet?" asked Val.

"Uh...yeah..."

"Uh-oh," said Rache, gnawing on another big bite. "Not exactly Meredith Baxter?"

"Well, let me put it this way," Jessie explained caustically. "When I left...she was watching The 700 Club."

"UH-OH," Valerie and Rache groaned in unison, to which Val added, "Repub alert!"

"Tell me about it," Jessica groused. "Had a feeling I was in trouble when she said she works for a Christian matchmaking service."

"Yikes," said Rachel. "Got a thumper on our hands?"

"'S the way it's looking," Jessica sadly confirmed, shaking her head.

"God..." Rachel dropped her face in her hand. "Well, you're a stronger girl than I am, Jess. Thank God I at least have a nicotine patch now; if either of Holly's parents was a Repub or a thumper, it'd put me back on the holy smokes so fast I'd be dead by now."

"I know, right?" Jessie lamented. "And the worst part is, my Dad seems to be totally oblivious to it."

Rachel chimed back in again with a gasp. "Oh my God...I just thought of something. Jess, I don't wanna scare you, but I read this story a while ago about this guy who made this rich lady fall in love with him, and once he'd earned her trust, he emptied her bank account and took off."

Jessica's and Valerie's eyes widened at her. "You think she's after her Dad's money?" Val asked Rache.

"I couldn't tell you for sure," Rachel shook her head. "I'd just say keep your eyes open, Jessie, and don't let your guard down."

"And look, babe, if there's anything we can do, we're totally behind you," added Valerie. "All you gotta do's ask."

Jessie smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Val...but...I think I'm gonna have to work this out with her myself."

A light bulb clicked on over Rachel's head. "Hey," she said with a mischievous smirk, "You know what you oughtta do?" She hand-motioned for them to get in close, and whispered her idea to Jessie. She was really only kidding, but unaware of that, Jessie and Valerie each let out a squeal of shocked laughter.

"Oh my God!" Jessie half-whispered back. "I couldn't do that!"

"Only Rachel!" declared Valerie. "Only Rachel would suggest something like that!"

"Well, a'right, but now you've got a Plan B anyway," shrugged Rache.

"You know what, I think we're worrying over nothing," Val tried to reassure them, patting Jessie's hand. "I know your Dad, Jess. He loves you. And if this broad has a problem with you, then she doesn't deserve you or him. And he knows that."

"You know what?" Jessie nodded and proudly slapped her soda cup on the table top, catapulting a few drops of carbonated liquid out of the straw. "You guys are absolutely right! If she's not gonna like me 'cause I'm gay, then the hell with her! Hey, y'know what? I'll tell you something else: maybe I don't like her 'cause she's straight!"

They shared a laugh, which was interrupted by Jessie's cell ringing. "Oh." She checked the caller ID.

"Huh. That's kinda weird...I don't know that number," she uttered.

"Let it go to voice mail," Val advised. "If it's important, they'll leave you a message."

"That's what I do too," Rachel agreed. "A strange number on your phone can be scarier now than ever." She checked her own phone. "Rats! I'm late to get back to work."

"Oh, gosh, we're sorry," said Jess as they stood and exchanged hugs. "Well, say hi to Holly for me."

"Will do!" Rachel trotted off. Just about the moment she got out of earshot, Jess' phone chimed, indicating she indeed had a voice mail message. "Oh, one sec, babe," she said to Val, checking it.

Valerie thought she would go into her purse and find her own phone, just in case she had any messages herself. Had she kept her eyes on Jessie, she would have seen her face morph into an image of initial confusion, followed by surprise, and then utter shock. She had just located her phone when she heard Jessie say, "What the...?!"

"Huh?" Val looked up at her. "What?"

Jessie's eyebrows jumped and her mouth dropped open. "I can't believe this!" she exclaimed.

"Believe what?" repeated Valerie.

Jessica let a couple more seconds pass, shaking her head. "You have gotta be kidding me!" was her next outburst.

"What??" asked Val for the third time in a rising voice.

Jessie removed the phone from her ear and glared at it furiously. "I'm gonna kill her!" she shouted.

Valerie put her hands on her hips. "If you don't tell me what's going on, Jessie, I'm going to lose interest."

Jessica looked up at her friend with fiery eyes. "You wanna know what's going on?" She pressed the speakerphone button and repeated the message. "Listen for yourself!"

The robotic voice narrated when the message arrived. "You have...one...new...message. Saturday...twelve...twenty...p.m."

The next voice Jessie and Val heard was a young-sounding male.

"Yeah, hey, what's up? This is Dave here. I got your number from Miss Gretchen, she's a friend of my Mom's. Said she was your Mom...or your...step-Mom or something. Anyways, she gave me your number, said we should probably go out sometime."

Valerie mirrored Jessie's previous expression of consternation: eyebrows raised, eyes agape, mouth ajar.

"She said something about how you...just need to meet a nice guy, and maybe you...eh, I forget. 'S probably not really important. Anyway, give me a call if you get a chance: 555-0694. Like I said, my name's Dave. Talk to ya later." Click.

Val now totally understood Jessie's outrage, sharing some of it herself. "She gave your number to a stranger?"

"It would appear so, now wouldn't it?" Jessie grunted through her clenched teeth.

"A guy?" said Val. "Did you tell her you're gay?"

"YEAH," Jessie emphasized. "But obviously, that bit—...that witch didn't believe me."

Valerie scoffed. "Un-freaking-believable!" she opined. "Is she that homophobic?"

Jessica turned her phone off. Suddenly, that ridiculous idea of Rachel's they'd laughed at before was sounding less and less ridiculous. The next thing they knew, it rang again. A number she didn't recognize. Again.

"...REALly??" Jessie yelled at her phone incredulously.

The always rational, reasonable Valerie said, "Okay, now, don't panic; we don't automatically know for sure that she gave your digits to a whole bunch of random dudes. It could just be a legit wrong number this time."

"Yeah, well...if it's all the same to you, I don't feel like taking the chance," Jessie grumbled in disdain, turning her phone off.

"Hey," smiled Val, taking her arm, "You know what we should do? You oughtta take me back to your house and have me pretend to be your girlfriend. Just to freak her out a little. Maybe she'd actually get the picture."

"Hm," Jessie chuckled wryly. "Well, even if I thought that might work—it wouldn't—I couldn't do that to Donna."

"Are you kidding? If we told Donna what was going on, she'd help us!" Valerie laughed. "Hell, we could make it a threesome! Have a lesbian orgy right in front of her! Give the witch a friggin' heart attack!"

Jessica couldn't help chuckling at this flamboyant idea. "Well..." she calmed down from her short fit of anger. "'S fun to consider anyway, just for a laugh."

Valerie gave her a rub and a pat on the back. "Don't let her ruin your whole day, Jess. C'mon, we haven't hit all the stores yet. Let's keep shopping, it'll cheer you back up."

The smile spread back over Jessica's face. "You're such a great friend."

"I know."

***

August 12th, 2:04 p.m.

Jessie pulled back up in front of the house. Just as she had the previous evening, she grabbed all the bags, yanked them from the car and headed to the front door with them. Luckily, these bags were much lighter than her travel suitcases.

She was hoping Gretchen wouldn't be there, but was pretty sure she would. Unfortunately, she was right.

Not only was she there, Jessie got inside to see and hear her on the phone, standing in the kitchen right in front of her, predictably, still playing Cupid for her.

"She's such a lovely girl..." she heard Gretchen's voice saying. "And I'm sure that if she just started dating a nice young man like your son, she'd finally realize the truth about herself."

WHAT the f—?! Okay, this had officially gone beyond ludicrous. Jessica could see she was going to have to hash this out with her face to face, and try her damnedest to set her straight...as it were. She dropped her shopping bags on the floor, marched up to where Gretchen was standing and pried the phone out of her hands just as she was saying—

"...and her number's 555-281—"

She wrestled the receiver away from her and infuriatedly hung it up.

"Wh—...sweetie, what's the matter?" Gretchen asked her innocently. "I was only trying t—"

Jessie whirled back around on her. "'What's the matter?'? 'What's the matter?'?! How dare you give out my number to a bunch of random guys who for all I know could be a collection of creepy weirdos?!"

Gretchen paused for just a second, surprised to hear this tone come out of her. "Sweetie, these young fellows are all perfectly nice gentlemen! I know them all personally! You think I would let you go out with a creep?"

Jessie shut her eyes and shook her fists in front of her face for a moment before regaining composure. "All right, now, look," she demanded, trying to be as firm and adamant as possible while retaining a modicum of politeness, "In the first place, Gretchen, if I wanted a date, I would get one myself. I don't wanna sound like an ingrate, but I don't need or want you playing matchmaker for me—and I'm not gonna be dating any guys to begin with, because again, as I already mentioned to you last night...I'm, GAY."

Gretchen's eyes closed as her face filled with discomfort. "Sweetie..." she begged her, "Please don't talk that way. An alternative lifestyle's one thing, but I know that if you'd only tr—"

All right, she'd had it now. "You—you just don't get it, do you?!" Jessie blew up at her. "I didn't think people like you still existed! You're fucking impossible, lady!...Sorry to have to use harsh language, but for God's sake! How can I make this any clearer to you—I'm a LESbian! I'm a girl who likes other girls! I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but—no, actually, no, y'know what, I'm not sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. 'Cause this is who I am, Gretchen. And it's not 'alternative,' and it's not a 'lifestyle.' It's part of my identity. And you're just gonna have to deal with that. 'Cause I'll tell you something else, I'll tell you this right now: I've been putting up with this kind of shit from people like you for years now, and if you're not willing to accept or respect me for who I am as a human being, then you're never gonna get your hooks into my Dad. My father loves me, Gretchen. More than he could ever love you. I mean the world to him. And he me. And if you don't want me, you don't get him." And then she added, just out of spite, "OR his money."

Gretchen said nothing. She only clutched at herself, her face now injected with even more unease than before. And her giant lizard-looking eyes behind those thick lenses made her almost seem...demonic. She looked as if she was about to have a heart attack.

Jessie sighed, looking at the floor. She felt bad about saying some of the things she said, but if any of it got through or made a dent, she didn't regret it. She couldn't seem to make her understand; it was just in one ear and out the other. "I'm...I really am sorry if I hurt your feelings, Gretchen," she mumbled, staring at her shoes. "But if I did, then I guess we're even now, aren't we."

Gretchen began to breathe heavier and harder. Jessie's eyes panned up a few inches to see her lower herself down onto her knees. She closed her eyes, crossed herself and clasped her hands together.

"Lord," she intoned, "Please help my poor dear step-daughter rid herself of these negative feelings and unnatural thoughts about herself. She's confused about who she is. She needs Your help. Please give her hope and guidance."

Just when she thought it couldn't get any more egregious. Un-fucking-believable, she thought, intensifying the eloquent way Valerie had articulated it in the mall.