7. Taylor
Taylor
M uch to my annoyance, I thought about Aubrey all week. The feeling of waking up with her soft curves pressed against me on that cot. The way she relaxed into my kiss in the car. The hint of pink on her cheeks when I tested her submissive tendencies.
“I thought you said she was a total bitch in high school?”
My friend April speared me with a quick look before turning her attention back to the treadmill she was running on.
“That was like fifteen years ago,” I said, feeling slightly defensive. “And to be honest, I gave as good as I got.”
“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You walk into a random bar to see some dude manhandling her. You thought she needed help, but when she accidentally punched you, you abandoned your rescue and attacked her. She fought back and then you both assaulted off-duty cops who were moonlighting as bouncers?”
“Yeah. I mean, it was all instinct to fight her though. The adrenaline hit and the next thing I know I’m in the back of a squad car.”
I nudged the speed on my treadmill up a little higher, eager to exorcise whatever this strange feeling was churning in my gut.
“Then you paid for her lawyer and gave her a ride back to her shitty apartment in Tukwila before kissing her?”
“That’s right.”
“The strangest shit happens to you,” she muttered as she slowed the treadmill down to a brisk walking pace.
“I have two questions. First, were you able to brush your teeth in jail?”
I snickered. “Yeah they gave us those disposable toothbrushes that already have shitty powdered toothpaste on them. It tasted disgusting but it did the job.”
“Okay so there wasn’t a bad breath thing happening, so that was good. My second question is… why are you kissing someone who’s straight? You’ve been down this road more than once my friend and it never ends well for you.”
“I don’t think she’s straight,” I replied. “She made out with a cheerleader senior year of high school.”
April jumped off her treadmill and shot me a look that clearly conveyed that I was an idiot.
“Every straight girl makes out with a cheerleader or sorority sister somewhere along the way, that doesn’t mean they’re queer.”
“Well she seemed to enjoy kissing me,” I said smugly.
“So did the last two women you fell for,” she reminded me. “You got your hopes up, but they were just experimenting. Then you moped around for months after they dumped you.”
“This is different,” I protested. “I’m not going to fall for Aubrey. I’m done dating the baby lesbians, you know this. But she’s hot as fuck and clearly submissive. I’m going to be seeing her the next few weeks at Community Service so I was thinking I’d invite her to come to Club Surrender and offer to teach her about kink.”
“Did someone drop you on your head as a child?” April asked incredulously. “This has disaster written all over it.”
“I’m not going to fall in love,” I said firmly. “Play with her, sure. Teach her about her submissive side, if I’m lucky. Fuck her, maybe. But she is not the woman who I’m going to dream of white dresses and picket fences with. I’ve learned my lesson about mixing kink and love.”
I’d promised myself after my last two disastrous breakups that I wouldn’t fall in love again. Ever. With anyone. Sure, I was attracted to Aubrey and couldn’t stop thinking about her, and the dominatrix in me was itching to make her submit, but that was just simple attraction. Lust. Nothing serious.
“Just be careful. Don’t let your heart get involved,” April instructed.
“I’ll be fine,” I promised. “I’m a stone cold dominatrix. I know how to compartmentalize.”
“Famous last words.”
Saturday morning I made the drive out to our check-in location for our first community service day. Aubrey was already there when I arrived, dressed in faded jeans, battered trainers, and a hoodie.
“Where’s your jacket?” I asked as soon as I saw her.
“What?”
“It’s forty-five degrees and drizzling so you decided that an absorbent cotton hoodie was your best option?”
She shrugged carelessly. “I didn’t check the weather.”
Every protective instinct lit up in my brain. I stared at her for a full twenty seconds before I grabbed her wrist, pulling her with me towards my car.
“Come on.”
I dug around in my trunk until I found one of the disposable rain ponchos I kept there for emergencies. Aubrey watched while I removed it from the package then pulled it over her head. It was a light plastic but at least it would keep some of the moisture off her.
“Put this on.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving me an impish smile. “You keep rescuing me.”
“I swear you need a keeper,” I said sternly. “Or a good spanking.”
She laughed, but her laughter faded as she took in the expression on my face.
“Um, what?”
We were interrupted by the deputy.
“Come on ladies, we have trash to pick up. Quit fucking around and line up with the others.”
We joined the other four people who were on trash duty with us today. The deputy gave us each a heavy duty trash bag and a pointy stick with a little grasper on the end that looked like claws.
“Don’t stab yourself, the other workers, or any human or animal with your trash grasper,” the man announced in a bored voice. “Any injuries or threat of injury means I have to do paperwork, and if I have to do paperwork, you will live to regret it. Understand?”
We all nodded.
“Good. Now here are your routes.”
Of course Aubrey and I were assigned as partners. I mean, what else would happen? We walked along for fifteen minutes in blessed silence before she spoke up.
“What did you mean about a spanking?” she finally asked, her voice soft and uncertain.
I stopped walking and turned to face her. Her cheeks were pink, and when I made eye contact with her, she looked down at her feet. She was interested, I had no doubt. Not just in me but in exploring the side of herself she’d likely kept under wraps all these years.
I wondered if she read BDSM books when she was alone. If she got herself off to fantasies of being tied up and spanked. I wondered if her face would turn that same color of pink when I made her come her brains out after a good, hard spanking.
“Let’s just say that it’s a hobby of mine to teach people like you to be good girls.”
“People like me?” she asked curiously.
“Bratty submissives.”