His OK Cupid profile used words like daddy, dom, age play, control. I was drawn to it, to him, though some of the words made me uncomfortable due to their unfamiliarity in this context at that time.
When we finally met, and after some lengthy conversation, I said I didn’t think I’d be able to call him daddy or sir. He said it wasn’t a big deal, didn’t insist, didn’t seem too bothered either way.
But the first time he called me a “good girl” for choking his cock down for longer than I thought I could, I almost wept and nearly came on the spot. My people-pleasing nature was nothing new, but the sexual rush I got from hearing those words was revelatory.
After we’d known each other for awhile, I decided to try something.
I had a dress, impulsively purchased on sale years ago. Baby doll style with spaghetti straps and Swiss dots across thin black lawn. Very short with a ruffle along the bottom and too small across my chest. No need for a bra.
With a comb, hands remembering patterns from childhood, I parted my long hair down the middle. Grabbing one side in a fist, I clipped it out of the way. I divided the other side into three equal sections and began sliding the sections of cool silk over and under each other. My fingers remembered what to do. I was a little in love with the shiny pattern I was creating.
Then it was the same for the second side. Over, under, switch, over, under, switch. Soft strands sliding over my fingers in arhythm. When I finished, I admired the symmetry of the braids on each shoulder. I felt pretty and sweeter somehow.
I was nervous. An inherent need to please within a culture that says you shouldn’t appear to try too hard to be pleasing had my stomach in knots.
I kept fingering the smooth braids. Flipping them back over my shoulder then pulling them forward again and brushing the end accross my lips as I drove to his house. Smiling, worrying, hoping.
When I walked in the door, greeted by his dogs, I bent down to pat them, then looked up to see him beaming. A bigger smile than I’d ever seen before.
“Well, hello little girl.”
I nearly came on the spot.