The Goddess Ch. 03

Becca

I finished the rest of the day's sessions and checked in with Gina, our night nurse, before I left for the dungeon. I had a session with Colin this evening and was looking forward to it.

Annette greeted me at the desk, her long blonde hair wrapped up in an elegant twist on the back of her head, her high-necked blouse starched and crisp.

"How do you always look flawless," I asked her as I walked past, trying to clear my head from the day and switch from therapist mode into Domme mode. "Is that a new shirt?"

"My piggie bought it for me," she smiled, touching the lace around her neckline. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Are you going to record yourself destroying it later?"

She cocked her head, thinking. "Yeah, I haven't decided if I'm going to spill wine down the front, or rub lipstick all over it. What do you think?"

"Both, I think. And wear a light pink bra underneath so he can just barely see it, but not see anything good."

She bit her lip and resumed her work on the computer. I went into my dungeon to change.

My safe haven.

I loved The Underground, but this room, this place, would always feel like home to me. It was the brainchild of me and my closest friends. It was my refuge, the place I had the utmost control. Everything that happened here -- who came in, what they did, how I was spoken to, and how I was touched -- was in my power.

I changed into my leathers. Colin had a major leather kink, and I enjoyed exploiting it. The short, skintight dress wasn't my usual go-to, since I preferred long skirts and lightweight lace to the heavy, hot leathers. But I enjoyed the effect it had on my kink-repressed client.

My boots zipped up, my crop in hand, and my gloves protecting my manicure, I stood by the door, waiting as the minutes ticked closer and closer to seven o'clock.

I had some fun things planned for us tonight. He was still new to the scene, so I was taking it easy with him and training him slowly. He'd taken my crop so well last week, and I warmed at the idea of introducing him to a paddle.

As I stood there thinking back through my plan and waiting for the seconds to tick by, thinking back on our conversations and our scenes so far, I could feel myself shifting into the headspace I needed. Sometimes it took a few minutes, and sometimes it was instantaneous, but it always felt... delightful.

My concern with the girls at the center melted away. They were taken care of.

My stress over Jeff and his failing health eased. He wasn't my job right now.

All the other things: my case reports, the paper I was writing, the lack of funding, the sessions I'd sat in on today, it all disappeared. The only thing I needed to worry about was guiding a reluctant masochist to his knees.

When the hour struck, I felt tension under my skin. Anxiously, I waited for the knock at the door.

A minute passed.

Two minutes.

This boy is going to bleed for keeping me waiting.

Three minutes... then five.

I opened the door and looked out. The lobby was empty, other than Annette, still typing at her computer.

"Annette, honey, has Colin called?"

"No."

I looked back at my phone. Six minutes.

He'd been late once. He'd regretted it. I made a point to punish my submissives appropriately, so they avoided inconveniencing me more than once.

Clearly I hadn't punished him hard enough if he thought being late, and not calling about it, was acceptable behavior.

I paced in the lobby, twirling my crop while I waited. I'll need to get the ball stretcher out for this. Where did I put that thing?

But the longer I paced, the longer the excitement and the adrenaline that ran through my veins turned to frustration. Fifteen minutes past the hour, I knew I'd been stood up, or he'd had some kind of horrific emergency.

"I'm leaving," I sighed to Annette. She gave me a sympathetic smile. "If he calls, tell him he's forfeited his payment, and he'll be punished severely for his next session... but I don't think he will."

"I'm sorry, Becca."

I shrugged. "It comes with the territory," I murmured, trying to dismiss the frustration. At this point, I was too frustrated to scene anyway. "Is Simon here?"

"He's working at the shop tonight. Jackson is here, his session ran long. Max and Bryant both just left."

"I'm heading out. Might get a drink. See you later?"

She shrugged her shoulders suggestively and her eyes lit up. "I was planning to go to The Underground... want to come with? Help me film my video?"

I didn't usually frequent The Underground without Jeff, but I couldn't resist Annette's offer. "Actually, yes. I'd love to."

"I'll see you after Jackson leaves. Get us a good spot near the Pain Wall, if you can manage it."

An hour later, I had acquired a table, a drink, and many curious eyes as I waited for Annette to show up. I was well known in this community, but I didn't often come alone. I almost always came with Jeff or Reuben, and sometimes Michael when we were hoping to find a bottom to tease together. Sipping my martini and relaxing at my table, I tried not to stare as I let my eyes run over the Pain Wall.

The wall was made up of solid black brick, posts and hooks cemented into it and spanning the entire length. There were unlimited ways to restrain someone. While it was technically a bondage wall, it had gotten its nickname because most people used it for impact play.

A mop of messy blond hair caught my eye, and I turned slightly to see a good friend of mine, Jezebel, sitting at a table with a cute looking blonde boy. She was leaning forward on her forearms, a serious expression painting her face as she listened to whatever he was telling her.

I felt a brick form in my stomach. The frustration that had all but disappeared came back full force. I stood, approached the table and sat down beside Jez, my limbs feeling hot and sticky in the leather I'd worn for my no-show client... who was currently on the other side of Jezebel's table.

Sure enough, his eyes widened in panic and he swallowed, cheeks flushed, not knowing where to look.

I turned and looked at my friend. "Hi Jez."

"Hi, Bec." She looked back at me with curiosity, confused as to why I was clearly interrupting her vetting session.

"You should know this one likes to run late, and he doesn't text when he decides to ghost you."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Good to know." She stood, gathered her purse and her drink, and looked back at me. "You here with Jeff?"

"No. I'm waiting on Annette. She's going to insult her pay pig on video."

"Sounds fun, mind if I join you?"

"I'd love that."

Jez took her things and walked over to my table on the other side of the room, settling herself down and facing away from Colin.

I leaned forward, resting my hands on the table, trying not to let him see how irritated and insulted I was.

"Everything in this community revolves around communication and respect. I suggest you learn it early on, or you'll very quickly find yourself lacking it from everyone else." Turning and leaving before he could defend himself, I strutted back to my table where Jez was now updating Annette on the drama.

"I cannot believe the nerve of that asshole," Annette whispered. She had a bottle of cheap wine she'd gotten from the bar, and I could see she'd switched her bra to a pink one, just as I'd suggested. "Ghosting you and then showing up here looking for more playmates?"

I didn't answer. I was trying not to take it too personally.

Colin was a client. He wasn't a boyfriend, and I wasn't emotionally attached to him. But it still took a certain amount of trust, time, and vetting before I let anyone into my dungeon. Colin had very specific things he wanted, and I doubted he'd find a Domme to cater to his every whim. What bothered me most was that he chose to ghost me instead of communicate with me.

"You know," I said when I could get a word in edgewise to the two gossiping girls. "If he'd asked me to help him find a Domme, I would have. If he wanted more playmates, I would have helped facilitate that. And I told him that early on. But not showing up for his session, and not communicating with me, that just pisses me off. Especially because I've been taking the time to teach him about the lifestyle, not just whip him once a week. Clearly those lessons didn't sink in."

I turned to face Annette. "I need another drink. Then let's make your video."

"Hey," Jez grinned. "On the bright side, now you have your Friday nights free for someone with a bigger dick!"

"He has a pretty big dick. But I don't have sex with clients."

Jez stood up and took my elbow, leading me back to the bar. "Maybe you need a submissive, Bec. A real one, not someone who pays you for a service. Someone who legitimately cares about respecting and pleasing you."

"I don't have time. I'm lucky to get a weekend with Mike once a month."

"You work too much."

"We're understaffed. And we keep getting more girls, and caregivers are harder and harder to find."

"I know, but... a submissive should make your life easier, not harder. They're supposed to serve you. Not take from you... they give to you."

"I know," I sighed. "But I don't think I want a submissive... I like the kink, and I like the transactional dynamics, because everyone gets exactly what they ask for."

"You just don't want anything emotional," she said, leaning against the bar and looking me dead in the eye. "You don't want to fall for anyone else. You like to keep people in little boxes in your head, Huxley. You're a job, you're a friend, you're a fuck-buddy, you're someone I love. And you don't like it when people switch from one box to another, because it means you don't have control over them."

That hit a little too close to home. I tore my gaze away from her probing expression and caught the bartender's eye.

"Dirty martini. Make it strong."

Jez was right, as she usually was. She was older than me, maybe mid-forties, and had been in the lifestyle for over half her life. She was one of the first Dommes I'd ever trusted enough to open up to. I considered her a mentor and a friend in more ways than one.

And as usual, she hit the nail on the head. I liked transactional dynamics because it kept the power in my hands, both physically and emotionally. I didn't sleep with clients, and I most certainly didn't fall in love with them.

My other partners, though, that was a different story.

That was the unspoken truth about power exchanges versus relationships. Power exchanges I could handle. Relationships, those were a lot harder. A much bigger risk, and lower payoff, and a more dangerous game. There was power in an emotional connection.

And I was very choosy who I gave my power to.

"Okay, I'll stop lecturing you," Jez said, pulling me back to our table once we had our drinks. "Let's make Annie's pay pig cry."