Sid
Frustrated
7/6/08
Ch 2. Born
“Oh, and by the way,” she said, “don’t wear that sweater.”
I tossed it back on my bed.
“Have a great day at work!” she said, gave me a quick hug, and left the room. I could hear her grabbing her purse and keys, and, two minutes later, the engine of her car.
I heaved a heavy sigh and walked slowly out the door. I didn’t close it. I walked to work, looking at the ground. I just knew Shelley was going to call me again today, and I knew it was going to be bad. She’d been taking me to steadily raunchier bars and seedier clubs. I knew she was there to protect me, but...I was still afraid of what came next. You know, sex clubs. And stuff. I wondered if Richard would be there.
Would she be lending me out to those big, scary people who knew what they were doing, who knew how to hurt you? What would I even do about it? I mean, she’s the one who would be protecting me from those dommes, but what would she be doing? Would she take a sub of her own? Maybe, because I’m not a sub or a domme, they would just let me be. You know, stand along the walls in this...oh damn, this little leather mini-skirt and thigh-high boots. Shit. Shelley’d set me up, hadn’t she? Good thing she was buying most of these outfits, I would have been all the way broke if I’d had to shell out for some of this stuff.
I punched in and took my place behind the counter. I fiddled with the bottle of shoe-spray, and watched the old men throw spares and splits. When the blankness of boredom set in, I leaned my elbow on the counter and daydreamed, but it was like...not normal daydreams? Somehow. I know it’s impossible. But it felt like I was floating around in a sea of fuzz, like when the TV is on a channel you don’t have, and then everything felt all melty and I...
It was like I was sitting on my bed, and it was like Shelley came in and sat next to me and started to take off my jeans. Somehow, I wasn’t disturbed by this or anything, because in this scenario, all I wanted to do was kiss her. My sexy Shelley. Oh, be my lover, lean over and press those lips against my neck, slide them up to my ear or down to my breasts...Dream Shelley would always comply. She always did whatever I said and whatever she did was heavenly, from holding me to licking my pussy until I screamed. She always told me it tasted sweet, too, sweet like raspberries... I jolted out of my guilty haze whenever the door opened and felt twice as awful as before the whole thing started. Three times as bad when I remembered what I’d been daydreaming about.
All day, whenever I was starting to forget any of it, like when this girl came in with her dad and beat her own record, or when I was really busy dealing with that tour group who didn’t really speak English, I would look down for some reason, to grab a lollipop for the girl or shoes for the tourists, and I would see the skirt and the boots. I would remember, and I would get red-faced, and someone would leer, and I would wish I had never been born.