The problem was she still had more questions than answers at this point. Certainly a ton more questions than when she started.
It’s not like I can ask anyone for their opinion, either. She didn’t want to admit to any of her friends or family what she was working on, much less that she’d volunteered to take on the project when she could have asked it be assigned to someone else. She didn’t want to have to explain herself to them after all the outrage they’d expressed on her behalf.
And still, the answer she wanted most of all and the one she’d likely never get—why hadn’t she been good enough for James? Had he wanted to dominate her like the women in the videos he watched? Why didn’t he feel he could talk to her? Why had he refused her offers to dabble in it with him after the first revelation?
As she studied her notes, she remembered everyone had given her their FetLife.com user names last night. She logged on to the website, hesitating as she had to think about what user name to create.
Shayla, and quite a few variations thereof, were already taken. After thinking on it for a while, she tried SaraShayla, since she lived in Sarasota. That user name came up as available.
Why not? It wasn’t like she’d be giving out any personal information other than the fact that she lived in the area, along with her age. And anyone she met last night, duh, already knew more about her than she’d give out online.
She filled out the profile, listing herself as just curious right now when it asked how active she was, and friendship under the “looking for” option.
Then, after thinking about it for a few moments, she checked the mentor/teacher option as well. For her BDSM role she waffled between vanilla, unsure, and not applicable for a while before eventually checking the last of the three.
Faced with the blank window to add to the About Me section, she opted to go short and sweet.
Journalist learning about the lifestyle for a series of articles.
She looked up and sent friend requests to everyone she’d gotten to know and realized how bare and boring her profile looked compared to everyone else. Unable to think of what else to put as a picture, she dug out a meme of Grumpy Cat bearing the simple caption, “No.”
Maybe that will keep the creepers away.
She spent over an hour looking through the site. Some of the images she saw scared her, and admittedly, a few intrigued her. The intricate shibari ropework in some of the pictures looked more artistic than sadistic.
She joined a couple of the local groups her new acquaintances had recommended, including the Suncoast Society Munch group. While browsing through different discussions, she encountered everything from thoughtful discourses on current events to sexual trolling. Looking through the lists of groups her friends were members of, she found everything from political forums to health issues to book groups.
And there were even LOLcats pictures posted, although some of them with captions that would likely never be allowed on more vanilla social media sites.
Hmm, it really is a kinky Facebook.
And still, she had no answers to her questions.
Maybe I do need to read some of the fiction. It couldn’t hurt, right? Grab some of the popular books of the genre, now that she had a grasp of the basics, the realities of the dynamics, and see why this was so popular. Or at least take a look at the popular fallacies in contrast to the realities.
After searching Goodreads for reader recommendations, Shayla realized her best bet would be buying e-books. She resigned herself to getting dressed and headed out to Best Buy. There, a salesman gave her a tour of the different brands and models. She finally settled on a Kindle and returned home.
At least the covers are hidden. She’d seen numerous readers report that the privacy afforded by an e-reader was one of the big draws, in addition to the instant gratification.
Once it was charged up and she had the device added to her Amazon account, she ordered her first e-book. Popular according to reader reviews, it was a novella that took her less than an hour to read. Admittedly, the sex scenes were hot enough to make her want to grab her vibrator for some relief of her own, but from what little she’d already learned the story’s setup was so unrealistic as to be laughable.
Using the site’s recommendations of similar books, she bought three more novellas by the same author and started reading.
By the time she finished she was both hungry to eat dinner and had damp panties.
She also understood why Tony had asked her about her reading habits and if she’d read any BDSM fiction. Had she gone into this with nothing but fictional expectations, she would have assumed Tony and the others were lying down on the job as Doms. On the other hand, she now suspected she saw the attraction so many women had to the genre. A hunky, Alpha Dom to love and protect and train her. To take the reins so she could just be for a while.
To make mad, crazy-sweet monkey-sex love to her.
Someone to lay absolute trust in.
She let that stew in her brain and congeal with what she’d witnessed, combined with the information she’d gleaned from her talks with locals in the scene and stuff off the Internet. She didn’t want to write a sensational series of stories just to titillate.
She wanted to do the people she wrote about justice and fairly portray them. Especially since they’d been so welcoming and friendly to her. She also knew what she had to do.
I need to talk to Tony again.
Tony glanced at his phone when it rang. He almost let it go to voice mail until he realized it was Shayla. He answered. “Hello?”
She sounded hesitant. Nervous. Tentative. “Hi, Tony? It’s Shayla. We…ah, from last night.”
He smiled. “Of course. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Can we talk?”
He picked up the TV remote and hit mute. “Sure. What’s up?” She had his interest. She sounded nothing like she had last night.
Now she sounded almost timid.
“I meant in person.”
“What about?”
“This.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he fought the urge to laugh. “I need a few more details than that.”
“BDSM. Can we talk more about it?”
When his cock stirred again at the thought of looking into her sweet, hazel eyes, he shoved that distraction away. This wasn’t pleasure, it was business.
So to speak.
“When did you want to get together?” He imagined fisting his hand in her hair. And about her deliciously spankable ass. A perfectly rounded figure that got his motor running. A woman who could take what he gave her without him having to worry if she’d break on him.
He shook that thought out of his mind, too. He had no idea if she was even interested in dipping a toe into the lifestyle, much less whether or not she was interested in him.
“I don’t know what your schedule is like,” she said. Yep, her voice definitely sounded timid. He didn’t understand why, but her tone more than anything stirred his curiosity. “I know you said you’re busy. I could meet with you tonight, if you wanted. I haven’t had dinner yet and was just trying to decide what to do.”