Last month I finally finished high school, and for a graduation present mom got me my own apartment -- lease paid -- and gave me a generous budget to furnish it. She found me one in Mobile, downtown on Dauphin Street, two blocks from her "spare apartment." While we live across the bay in Baldwin County, mom has kept that apartment for several years just to play around in. So those she plays with wouldn't ever show up at our house or even know where we live.
This place is so perfect for me! I'm on the fourth, the top, floor of the little building. There's an indoor pool, a business center, and a gym in the basement. The ground floor, street level, is all cafes and clubs. The casual places that attract the tourists, and the places with the good bands. It puts me right in the middle of the "action," or what passes for action here. And it's not too far from USA, where I start classes in September. It's a good school, but not one of the greatest. I got accepted to every school I applied to, including mom's alma mater of Auburn and their arch-rival of Alabama. USA is the next best school around, and it's close, and I wanted to stay close.
About four months ago I met Sophie, my personal slave, through a very roundabout introduction. She's two months younger than me, which means she was also 18 then, and like me, she was in her last year of high school. From the first time I met her, she started spending her weekends at my place. Well, then I didn't have a place, but mom let me borrow her spare apartment. Once school ended, I just didn't send her back home to her parents. I didn't ask her. I didn't even tell Sophie she was staying. I just didn't tell her to leave, so she stayed, and stayed with a huge smile on her face. I did call her mom and tell her that Sophie was going to be staying so they wouldn't worry about her. By then her mom was used to me calling and telling her what Sophie was doing.
I'm sure Sophie has figured it out by now. That weekend I had a housewarming party, where all my close friends came over and just hung out for a girl giggle-fest. Sophie served us. But my friends knew about her. They'd met her before. She always serves. The following day I had Sophie prepare a nice supper for guests. I didn't tell her the guests were her family. She figured that out when they arrived. She served our supper. But she also got to spend some time with her half brother and sister. She also got to sit there in silence, while I talked with her parents about her future.
I'd decided that Sophie, who's GPA was about .1 under getting into a decent four-year school (weighted down by the lesser grades she'd gotten before meeting me. Grades like C's, which I would never tolerate.), would be starting at the local community college, then transferring to USA for their veterinary assistant program. Her parents agreed that Sophie would love that career. I know enough about their financial status to know that could pay for her education, but also that it would be a heavy strain on them. When they brought up paying for it, I told them that she's my "girl," and I take care of my girls. I will take care of it. Even though I don't plan for Sophie to work, I want her to have a skill should she ever need it.
It was an unusual conversation. Mostly because while I told them what future I'd decided on for Sophie, and we talked about how that was going to happen, Sophie had to just sit in silence. She didn't get any input into her future. But I knew she'd love it. And the look on her face as she heard it says I was right. I did have her walk her family to their car, ostensibly to cart some leftovers for them, but really to give her a few minutes alone with her mom. The next day her mom text me that Sophie had told her she was so happy with the idea.
It's a little surprising when I get a text from Vicki -- Sophie's mom -- saying she'd like to talk to me about something and asking if I would meet her sometime, no rush. I text her back to let me know what's good for her, I'm just playing around this summer and don't have much of a fixed schedule, other than the two summer classes I'm taking at USA. Call me an over-achiever. She texts back that I pretty much know her schedule, too, work and home, would her lunch hour work for me? I text her back that's fine, when and where, and I'm there. We agree to meet at a Wendy's across from her work.
We chat for a while about Sophie. I can immediately tell that's not what she really wanted to talk to me about, but it is her daughter, and she's not going to pass up the opportunity to chat about her. Even though I'm big into scrap-booking online, and her mom has access to the page, where there are like a zillion pictures of Sophie, too. Such as from Saturday when I'd gone to the beach, Sophie in a new, sexy and skimpy, lime green bikini and her matching collar. The collar that never comes off now that she stays with me.
Finally, she gets to what she wanted to talk to me about. I can tell before she says a word because she suddenly looks a little uncomfortable. She starts with an apology for telling anyone about me, but it was just a couple of her closest friends, and she says, it was Sophie she was telling them about. I tell her I don't mind. While I don't advertise my lifestyle, those close to me know. And I don't make a secret about it. Were anyone to ask, even that cashier, I'd tell them myself, so it's not an issue to me whom she says what to. As long as it's true. She looks a little relieved.
And still uneasy. She has to explain how she doesn't really understand the D/s lifestyle, or why Sophie would choose it. But obviously, Sophie loves it -- she's never without a huge grin on her face -- and since meeting me, she's pulled herself together, gotten excellent grades, and been a joy to be around. She tap dances around the sexual orientation issue, obviously assuming that both Sophie and I are either bi or gay, and Sophie just never said anything. I explain to her that we're both attracted to guys. D/s isn't really about sex, it's about giving everything to someone, allowing the other to make all the choices for you, accepting the other's discipline, and just knowing that you will be so taken care of. It's about getting her pleasure by giving everything to please me, and seeing that she's making me incredibly happy. Sure there are some sexual components to it, if I didn't have her sexuality, I wouldn't have all of her, and Sophie needs me to have all of her, but it's not about gender. It's about her putting herself aside and giving, especially things she wouldn't otherwise do, and seeing the enormous pleasure she brings me by doing it. I surprise her by telling her that I date men, and Sophie has met a few of my dates. But those guys will never replace Sophie, and will never do any number of things I allow Sophie to do for me.
She finally tells me that apparently, her friends have gossiped. No surprise there, I know girls don't stop gossiping just because we add another candle to our birthday cakes. I regularly gossip with a few other ladies, one who is 46, who share my lifestyle.
Yesterday her BWF -- Best Work Friend -- told her that a good friend of hers, after hearing about Sophie, had asked if she would quietly ask Vicki to ask me if I knew of anyone who might be interested in meeting her. She "kind of knows" the friend-of-a-friend. They've met several times, but haven't gotten to know each other more than casually. She tells me that she thinks Sophie might have bumped into her once or twice. Her name is Shelbie. She's 36, and according to Vicki, cute. Vicki knows she's divorced, has been for a couple of years, and has a couple of small kids that bounce between her and their father.
When I ask what Shelbie is interested in, because every domme has things she likes, and doesn't like, to do, Vicki tells me that she doesn't really know. And kind of doesn't really want to. I'm not sure I'd trust it much anyway since I'm getting it fourth hand. I write a short note on a napkin that says: Shelbie, I see you've heard about me. You will write me a letter and tell me who you are and what possible amusement you might offer me. Miss Rodgers. And of course my email.
I tell Vicki to get it to Shelbie. Once Shelbie answers I'll read her email and decide if she's of any interest to me, and if not I'll let some other ladies know that Shelbie is looking. If she interests any of them, they'll be in touch.
Vicki says, a hint of surprise in her voice, that she'd just assumed Sophie was my only slave. I tell her that she is, and there's not likely to be another. But that doesn't mean I don't play around with "toys," for my amusement. Sophie knows that and is often there while I amuse myself with a toy. Usually enjoying the show with me, sometimes doing some of the "work" for me, while I do not mean sex. Toys don't get that. Ever from me, and thus never from Sophie. They get toyed with, but that's all.
That napkin must have traveled at the speed of light. When I check my email that evening, there's a long letter from Shelbie. After very politely asking me not to "completely humiliate her" by outing her secret desires, she sends me a short story she's written, I'd guess around 1500 words and tells me that's her "favorite" fantasy. She adds a few details about her other fantasies as well, but nothing so detailed. I read it all.
She's also included a summary of her schedule, when she has her kids and when she doesn't, and her work hours, which are her only commitments. It saves me the trouble of asking her that. I think for a bit, then text Ellie, my BFF #3 who makes her spending money by babysitting and ask when she might be available to sit some kids for me. She sends me her schedule, and says "please!" I always pay her better than her going rate, and ask nothing crazy from her for it. She knows about me, and has a pretty good guess what those kids mom, dad, or both are going to be doing, but doesn't ask.
I send Shelbie a short email. Shelbie, this is a one-time-only, yes/no offer. Should you wish to submit yourself, you should understand that I demand total submission. I will own you, your body, everything. You will not have a choice about anything. I will tell you nothing, except what you will do. You will completely belong to me. I will use you for my whimsical amusement, and I assure you I won't care an iota whether you enjoy it or suffer through it. Only that it amuses me. You will have no privacy, no modesty, no anything. You're just a toy for me to amuse myself. I NEVER tolerate any questions from my toys. So don't ask any now, either. If you accept, I will summon you when I wish to use you for my entertainment. You will come. You will do as you are told without question. When I tire of you, I will dismiss you. Until then you are not free to leave, only to amuse me, serve me, please me, or whatever I fancy doing with your body. Shall I summon you and see if I can find some way for your skanky body to amuse me? Yes or no only, skank.
