How about a sneak peek?

So I’ve been in crazy gear up to Stamford mode, but I’ve also been working on Dominion: Jane, so how about a sneak peek into my new world?  Here’s a snippet of the beginning of chapter 1.

Remember this is unedited and may change prior to publication.

Dominion: Jane

~Chapter 1~

It started like every Saturday night had for the last two months and would probably end the same way.  Jane knelt in the public area of Dominion, with all the other unattached submissives some looking for a play partner for the night, and some hoping to find a permanent Dom.

Jane was getting to the point where she had given up on finding a Dom, she just wanted someone to select her.  She wasn’t the youngest girl kneeling, she wasn’t the thinnest girl kneeling, but for 45 she looked pretty good.  However at 45, kneeling for 3 hours tended to wear on a body.

But without fail every Saturday night she came to Dominion, changed out of her street clothes and into a skimpy lace camisole and boy-shorts and padded on bare feet to check in with Slade, the monitor for the unattached subs and take her place in the line.  Kneel, sit back on your heels, hands and forearms on your thighs open in submission, head bowed, waiting to speak until someone spoke to you.

At 45, her kids grown, her husband dead 5 years now Jane finally figured out who she really was and what she really wanted.  She read, and researched and spent time online, Fetlife and other message boards, you name a place on the internet and she’d been there, at least once.  She was submissive, and now that there was no one to take care of but her it was time she started meeting her own needs.  Fantasy and online lifestyle just didn’t cut it, she wanted a Dom to call her own, what she really wanted was to live 24/7 but she’d settle for someone, anyone to pick her from the fucking line.

At 11:00 she got up, stretched and went over to the bar, waiting time was over,  the other two girls left decided to go off to a play space together and just fool around on their own.  She would have a glass of wine, try not to cry and then change and head home.  She didn’t understand what she was doing wrong, brattier girls, heavier girls, certainly less attractive girls had been chosen, but she sat, week after week.  She’d attended the clubs mandatory training for new members, went to the submissive discussion groups to try and learn from them what she might do to move her cause forward.  She never spoke up at the discussion groups though, she didn’t have anything to add and everyone there seemed so experienced.

 

 

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