Master Charming

Jennifer Leeland

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For her birthday, Beth Jones was given a Newbie Package from the local BDSM club, The Iron Bar.  Her so-called friends had spotted her submissive side and decided it was time she quit hiding it.  But when the night comes that sh...
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For her birthday, Beth Jones was given a Newbie Package from the local BDSM club, The Iron Bar.  Her so-called friends had spotted her submissive side and decided it was time she quit hiding it.  But when the night comes that she finally gets to play her first scene, she is no longer sure who she is.  Is she the sweet submissive in the borrowed Jimmy Choo shoes?  Or is she the Goth chick with the black eyeliner and spiked hair?

No one could pin down Master Chris's taste in submissives.  He liked them in all shapes and sizes, but his favorite subs were newbies.  The Iron Bar trusted him to introduce the Lifestyle to newcomers and he loved the chance to do it.  No commitment necessary.  But the newbie he knows as "Miss Jones" gets under his skin.  When a crisis causes an interruption, Chris has to track down the elusive Miss Jones with only a Jimmy Choo shoe to guide him.

She posted again. Chris stared at his Fetlife feed and clicked on the new journal post from Miss Jones.

I’ve shared a lot with you. Strangers. Fellow travelers in this kinky journey. I finished my Newbie classes at the club tonight, and it left me wired. This weekend, I will finally step inside this world that I’ve been too afraid to delve into. I’ll become the submissive I’ve always wanted to be.

I didn’t know that was what I was searching for. I thought I was looking for a father figure or someone with confidence. What I really need is a Dominant. I don’t mean “need” in that clingy, desperate way I have sought in the past. I mean that I want to grow and change, to transform, and a D/s relationship seems to be the way I’ve chosen to do that.

Last week, I was contacted, as part of my membership package, by three Dominants. They’re all vetted by The Iron Bar, and I had to choose one of them to have an introductory session. After a few exchanges, I narrowed it down to the Dominant who’s going to “pop my cherry” in the BDSM sense. I’m excited and I’m terrified all at once. What if I screw it up? What if they’re disappointed? What if I pass out? LOL! The messages have been pretty awkward. Not on his part but on mine. I’m not a player. I usually jump in too quickly, fall in love, and then discover it was all an illusion.

This time, I’m starting with the illusion first. And absolutely nothing about this is “romantic.” This isn’t a blind date with good intentions. It isn’t about finding Mr. Right. This is an introduction to myself. It’s about knowing me so that I can be who I am no matter who is in my life. I think that’s a step in the right direction.

You know I’ll keep you updated. I’m so damn grateful for my friends who have been there for me through this whole thing. But even they don’t know how relieved I felt when I went to that first newbie class and discovered that I was a submissive.

They still think that I’m doing this on a dare.

I love it here on Fetlife. No one here knows what I look like or my past or my socioeconomic status. To you, I’m Miss Jones, the newbie, the terrified, excited sub who is exploring this kinky world and dragging you all along with me.

I’d better get some sleep. But before I do, time to visit the “Whose Awake at 3am” group and play some “This or That.”

Why was she different? Chris clicked away without commenting. He didn’t want her to know he was reading her posts. Had her journal entries influenced his e-mails to her? Probably. She’d chosen him, and he’d set the date. He’d accepted her friend request on Fetlife and wondered if she considered that he’d start reading her writing.

It was his standard procedure when he agreed to play with a newcomer. He’d friend them on Fetlife, see what they listed as their fetishes, and suggest a scene. It was a tried-and-true method. So why was he so obsessed with this submissive?

He glanced around his apartment. Maybe it was the loneliness of his place. He didn’t have pictures of family. He wasn’t one to make his home comfortable. All he really did was sleep here. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to cook. He wanted to cook for someone. He shook his head. No. He’d had that, and it turned out to be a fantasy that only existed in his mind. Finding a woman who was content with the domestic scene Chris envisioned and who also loved kink was probably not in the cards for him.

But this Miss Jones was not like the other newbies he’d played with in the last two years. None of them had journaled. All of them had posted pictures of themselves, sometimes naked. The only picture Miss Jones had uploaded was a meme that stated “LIFE IS NOT A FAIRYTALE. IF YOU LOSE YOUR SHOE AT MIDNIGHT, YOU’RE DRUNK.”

Two of her journal entries had been music videos. Both of those had been death metal bands. There was a huge contrast between the submissive voice he heard in her writing and her choices of music and books.

Did he have any room to talk? Ever since his last serious relationship, he’d been an “only at the club” Dominant. It wasn’t how he wanted to live, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be open and honest about his lifestyle. He envied the Dominants who lived “out,” their public persona the same as their private self. Since Janis, he hadn’t dated any submissive openly, keeping his club life completely walled off from his work and home life. Lately, it didn’t feel like enough.

He still had an hour before he had to leave for work. He did something he’d never done before. He private messaged Miss Jones, the newbie sub he was going to play with,

You know, I don’t want you sleep deprived on Saturday night.

Her answer was almost immediate.

How did you know I was awake?

He smiled. I can see when my friends are online. You’ve been up all night, haven’t you?

This time, she took a little longer to reply. Last night was my final newbie class. I’m nervous.

Is there something I suggested that is making you uncomfortable?

No, Sir. I just don’t want to screw it up.

His heart twinged a little at that comment. God, how he remembered feeling those nerves his very first time. Funny. When he usually played with new submissives, he didn’t think about that hot, sweaty summer day that he’d delivered his first spanking and unleashed his Dominant side. But Miss Jones had brought out a lot of interesting thoughts in him. He was both disturbed and exhilarated by the new sensations.

Very few newcomers to the Lifestyle are perfect in their first scenes contrary to popular fiction. As long as you and I work together, we’ll be fine.

Yes, Sir. I’m not used to giving up control. Of anything.

That’s the idea. This first scene is practice, preparing you for more elaborate scenes. You can still choose the “no sex” option. It can be just as rewarding. Chris hoped she wouldn’t. The e-mails, the messages, her journal posts had all captivated him. From everything she’d said, there seemed to be some reluctance to share what she looked like. It had taken every ounce of control Chris had not to stop in on the newbie class to try and guess which one of them might be his Miss Jones. Wait. She wasn’t his. This wasn’t like him at all. He had to admit he liked the idea of her belonging to him, but he needed to keep his head in the game.

I’d really like to try it. I read a lot of erotic romance, and I want the chance to explore what it’s really like. I know that fiction and reality are different.

They are. Now, I want you to go to sleep. It’s important to get your rest. Show that you trust me to take care of everything.

Yes, Sir.

It pleased him immensely to see that she immediately logged off Fetlife. Miss Jones was an enigma. By her e-mails and the journal entries, he’d gleaned that she felt inferior in some way, but he wasn’t sure if it was her social status or her appearance that bothered her. She seemed determined to keep hidden.

Not that Chris cared. He’d had newbies who were two hundred pounds that submitted so sweetly and had soft curves to clutch as he fucked them. He’d had beautiful creatures who were awkward and uncertain beneath his touch. He’d had one tremendously fit newcomer who probably could have kicked his ass but responded to his voice as if it were steel shackles.

What a submissive looked like didn’t matter to him. Only their ability to drop the pretense, lower their walls, and let him take care of them was important. And Miss Jones seemed ready to do those things for him before they’d even met.

Only a few more days.

As he closed his computer and tucked it away in its bag, he sensed he was on the verge of something momentous. He shook his head. No. It was just the anticipation of the evening. Nothing special.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d believe it.

Copyright © Jennifer Leeland


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