Chapter 15 - Vixen Dreams
Jonah's return trip to his sister's house wasn't as bumpy as the road to the hospital save for a moment of distraction that could have proven fatal. As he sat behind the wheel, mumbling mantras of adoration to his one true Goddess, the storm to rule them all, he slowed down close to a derelict building, one with far more personal history than any other building in the world, and reality collapsed like a sand castle all around, his vacant eyes ignoring everything else. Even though he shouldn't, he too fell into a pool of memories, ones that had helped create the man (and slave) he now was.
His first contact with the world of erotic femdom humiliation happened a few months before Angela's relationship with Gregory came into play, an unexpected guilty pleasure inspired by another woman. Her name was Felicia May, she was the only daughter of Harold and Lana May, owners of a cybercafe about to go bankrupt, and she dreamed of being a sex worker twenty-four seven although it was unlikely she would ever have her way while she lived under her parent's roof. Unbeknownst to anyone, the day she turned eighteen, she set up a fake profile on one of the most prestigious fetish directories at the time and made her voice heard, attracting horny, submissive men like flies. Being half-Brazilian and half South-African, she had a fiery, exotic temperament, and it was easy for people to fall in love with her dark skin, almond eyes, and more than infectious laugh.
Financial Domination coupled with humiliation was what she enjoyed the most, crushing egos and wallets at the same time. When her parents were busy looking at how much money they still had to make to cover the month's expenses which, admittedly, was pretty much all the time, she would seek refuge in a little booth near the basement entrance, exchanging dirty words via a protected server. Her true identity was safe from anyone except a pair of prying eyes.
Friends since forever, Jonah was the first to have his feelings shift into some form of romantic affection, one that was both foolish and unrequited. Felicia didn't really love people, just fresh bills that could eventually afford her a one-way ticket to Paris or London and he was still far from being the promising athlete that would one day charm the world. Whenever they were together, she hardly paid him attention for she was daydreaming of the next persona she would create to impress all the anonymous wankers all over the world ready to part ways with their hard-earned salaries in a little under five minutes. Her personal record was four thirty-nine yet she knew she could do better if she knew the right triggers to press.
Jonah discovered her "extra-curricular activities" by accident on a Saturday afternoon when her parents were out of the picture. With no customers in sight, she closed shop not realizing he was still inside. The look on her face when he peeked at her screen and read what she wanted to do to a poor sap's ball sack was priceless.
"Oh, wow!" He blurted.
"What are you doing here?" she vociferated. "Fuck, you weren't supposed to have seen this!"
"DreamVixen?" Jonah noted. "Cute alias."
"Not my first choice, but thanks," she said, slipping away from the computer to get a cold drink. He didn't follow her, instead continuing to look at some of the things she had written.
"No wonder you hardly have time to hang out anymore... this is..."
"Jonah, let's get one thing straight, okay? You're sweet and all but I'm not into you the way you're into me. And I never will."
"No, you're into verbally trashing others, it seems."
"And what's wrong with that?"
"I never imagined you the type, that's all," he replied, most of his dreams shattered.
She came back to him, coke in hand, denim skirt hugging her sumptuous curves. "Yeah, imagination was never really your strong suit, right?"
"That's not a nice thing to say."
"Nice or not, Jonah, it's the truth. You think too small at times when you should think big and holding on to every opportunity that comes your way. Thinking small is the loser way like those silly creatures I talk to. I often wonder if they're just big cocks in disguise and nothing else and, frankly, that's probably true for most."
"Jesus, Felicia! You're sounding like a lunatic now!"
"Tell that to your own cock who's enjoying being belittled as I speak. Here, let me give you something to prove my point..."
Her warm spit hit his face, rolled down his stark chin and dripped onto his Summer clothes. It left a spiraling stain on his brand new turquoise V-Neck T-shirt.
