Submissive Desires (2 page)

And he’d asked her permission in channel, which was a big plus, and frankly, almost never heard of, unfortunately.

She told him “yes” and seconds later they were conversing in their own private room.CaptHawk: Good evening. Thank you for allowing me to chat with you. Maura’s eyebrow rose, but, not wanting to let him know how impressed she was already, she just typed back:redbotmgirl: You’re welcome. One of the worst things about chatting on IRC was the lag time – it was a Saturday night at around ten, and the channels were packed. Responses took longer and longer to pop up. It was annoying in the extreme.

CaptHawk: I’ve enjoyed your comments about tonight’s discussion. Please allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Simon Hawkins. No a/s/l for him . . . yet. Another notch in his favor. No instantaneous request for a picture or phone sex – two more hash marks for him. And if he was smart, that wasn’t his real name, either. Maura gave him her usual “on-line” pseudonym.redbotmgirl: Well, it’s kinda been one after my own heart . . . okay . . . a little lower . . . ;)

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redbotmgirl: Btw, my name is Elizabeth. It was only partly a lie – that was her middle name.CaptHawk: It sounds as if you’re pretty sexually adventurous . . . ?

redbotmgirl: I can be, on occasion.

CaptHawk: With the right person?Maura nodded her head thoughtfully.

Hmmmmmmmm.redbotmgirl: Correct.

CaptHawk: If you don’t mind, how would you describe that “right person”?

She bit her lip and read the question several times, thinking hard. Unlike ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population who frequented chat rooms, Maura tried to be as scrupulously honest with the people she was chatting with as she possibly could – it saved on trying to keep her stories straight and keep track of the lies. After all, who the hell were they to her? No one she knew – and she was sure – with the types of rooms she frequented, that even if she did know any of these people in real life, that they were not likely to be anxious to admit it, anyway. She had no interest in trying to impress any of them. If they didn’t like her, then they could stop talking to her at any time, and vice versa.

At just the right time – not too short and pushy or too long and obviously occupied with six other, more important private chat sessions, he asked:CaptHawk: Still there?

redbotmgirl: Yes, thinking about my response.

CaptHawk: Thinking is good.

Redbotmgirl: Yeah, I have to admit I don’t always do enough of it! CaptHawk: That’s an interesting confession. But I would like an answer to my question.Maura’s eyebrow rose. She was trying to decide whether or not she appreciated his somewhat demanding tone.redbotmgirl: The right person is . . . hmmmmmmm. Smart, funny, dominant, loving, strict, supportive . . . stop me when you’ve heard this.

redbotmgirl: I think most subs would build the same man, basically, if they could.

CaptHawk: But those are some of your own qualifications?

redbotmgirl: Yes, along with being able to use words of more than one syllable. I’ll warn you, I do notice things like spelling when I chat. I’m a writer; I can’t help it. J

CaptHawk: LOL I’ll keep that in mind. And physically, what do you like?

Redbotmgirl: Kevin Sorbo . . . Adrian Paul . . . a young Sean Connery . . . I’m pretty boring – tall, muscular, dark, and handsome does it for me. Or at the very least tall and muscular . . .

CaptHawk: And those are the only types of men you find attractive?

Maura felt like she was either being interrogated or psychoanalyzed, but she liked to talk about herself as much as the next person, so if this was how he was getting his jollies, more power to him. And that question was certainly a dead giveaway that the guy was probably five-foot-nothing and looked like Sipowitz . . . but then, since she was no beauty queen herself, looks were of less than paramount importance.

redbotmgirl: Not at all. As a matter of fact, men who look like that are few and far between, and they’re looking at women like Cindy Crawford, etc, and not someone with average looks, like myself.

Generally, I find myself attracted to personality and intelligence first, anyway.

CaptHawk: I think I might could work with that. I’ve got the tall down – thanks to good genes –

and although I’m no Arnold Schwartzenegger, I’m fairly muscular and fit.

redbotmgirl: LOL – now, Arnold’s taking muscles a bit too far.

CaptHawk: I agree. And I have several degrees in varying fields and could probably use some words you’ve never seen or heard before.

redbotmgirl: I’m sure.

CaptHawk: What do you write?

redbotmgirl: Romance novels.

CaptHawk: Bodice-busters?

redbotmgirl: You’re one of the few men I’ve ever met who is familiar with the term. Yes, they are.

CaptHawk: My ex-wife went through them like they were potato chips.

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redbotmgirl: Some of them are. Others have years and years worth of research and historical facts weaved expertly into the story. Mine are of the “junk food for the mind” category – no nutrition but lots of entertainment value! J

CaptHawk: As I recall, some of them can get quite steamy . . . she used to read the more . . .

titillating passages to me.

redbotmgirl: Yup, they can.

CaptHawk: And are yours such as those?

redbotmgirl: I think I’ll take the fifth . . . CaptHawk: LOL.

redbotmgirl: And what do you do, if you don’t mind my asking? Simon minded, but he had his own pat answers to things.CaptHawk: I do some freelance work for the Govn’t.

redbotmgirl: Oh. The kind where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

CaptHawk: Not necessarily – I know various other ways to keep you quiet that don’t involve killing you . . .

redbotmgirl: Uh-huh.

CaptHawk: I’m a retired Navy Seal, amongst other things.

redbotmgirl: Do you mind my asking how old you are?

CaptHawk: You may ask me anything you like. If I don’t want to answer it, I’ll let you know. I’m forty-nine.

As it happened, Maura preferred older men . . . redbotmgirl: You can do the same with me. I’m largely unoffendable by now, or I wouldn’t still be using IRC! J

CaptHawk: If you’re sure about that, I might just take you up on it. How old are you?

redbotmgirl: 37.

redbotmgirl: And a half.

CaptHawk: LOL. Well, you are a young thing, aren’t you.

redbotmgirl: Yeah, right.

CaptHawk: Well, to me you are, anyway. I’m almost old enough to be your Daddy.

redbotmgirl: Only if you were an extremely precocious 12 year old . . .

CaptHawk: I do tend to be a bit of an overachiever . . . redbotmgirl: Obviously with multiple degrees AND an O-6 Navy Seal . . . sheesh, what did you do in your spare time, knit tank cozies?

redbotmgirl: I think I’m definitely outclassed here, since I don’t even have a degree . . .

CaptHawk: Why doesn’t a smart lady like you have her degree?

redbotmgirl: Uhhhhhhhh . . . next subject.

CaptHawk: I like this subject plenty. Have you taken any college classes at all? You’re obviously intelligent and have a good command of the English language . . .

redbotmgirl: Well, I uhhhhhhhh . . .

Capt Hawk: ?

redbotmgirl: I don’t wanna. I don’t jump through hoops well. I don’t give a damn what “x” equals, because I know it isn’t going to do me any good in the real world. I don’t want to have to take statistics and all that other shi – uh, junk . . .

redbotmgirl: And why am I justifying this all to you, anyway? You’re not my dom.

CaptHawk: No, I’m not. Whoever is is doing an atrocious job of it.

redbotmgirl: No one is, thank you very much. : p~~~~~

CaptHawk: Don’t go getting all huffy on me, Elizabeth. Settle down. “No one is” explains a lot about why you’re running amuck.

CaptHawk: You didn’t answer my question: do you have any college credits?

redbotmgirl: Yes.

CaptHawk: Don’t make me pry it out of you, young lady. How many?

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redbotmgirl: I don’t have to tell you You’re not my dom.

CaptHawk: It’s a damned good thing for you that I’m not, Missy.

redbotmgirl:

CaptHawk: How many years would you have to do to graduate?

redbotmgirl: I don’t know.

CaptHawk: Why don’t you have a dom, Elizabeth?

redbotmgirl: I’ve taken myself off the market.

CaptHawk: Bad experience?

redbotmgirl: LOL – a couple, along with the usual guys who say they’ll write and don’t, those who want free phone sex, those who are out of the area and that’s not even going into those who are married with four kids or those who are women or . . . or . . . or . . .

CaptHawk: I hope the couple bad experiences you had weren’t anything too series.

redbotmgirl: No, they weren’t. I’m pretty cautious, and it takes a long time to get me to the point where I’ll go meet the guy, and I always trust my instincts about whether or not I feel safe, so it was more fending him in a parking lot at my car in the middle of the day – which I can handle fine – than wrestling at night in a hotel room, which I would never do.

CaptHawk: I’m sorry you had to go through that. Not all of us are boors.

redbotmgirl: I know. I guess it’s my faith in that idea that keeps me coming here.

CaptHawk: So what did you go to college for?

redbotmgirl: Elementary Education.

CaptHawk: When did you drop out?

redbotmgirl: You’ve had training in interrogation techniques, haven’t you?

Simon was frankly stunned. How could she have known that?

CaptHawk: Yesssssssssss . . . what tipped you off?

redbotmgirl: You use the same methods as an old boyfriend of mine who was a cop. He did the same thing you just did – asked me the same question three or four different ways, just to see what kind of answer he got each time.

CaptHawk: You’re very astute.

redbotmgirl: No, it’s just something I’m aware of because it annoys me.

CaptHawk: I’ll remember that.

CaptHawk: Well, Elizabeth Red-Bottom-Girl, I’ve gotta go, but I’ve enjoyed our chat enormously. May I message you again sometime? Well, she’d probably never hear from him again. Too bad, she thought. He sounded scrumptious, and right up her alley, so to speak.redbotmgirl: Sure you can.

CaptHawk: Are you here a lot?

redbotmgirl: No, I pop in occasionally.

CaptHawk: When do you think you might drop by again? She didn’t want to be pinned down –

not that she had much of a life. Making a date to chat was pretty much worthless in her experience – no one ever showed up when they said they were going to.redbotmgirl: Possibly next weekend.

CaptHawk: I don’t mean to be too forward, but may I have your email address? Maura had a throwaway addy that she gave to anyone with whom she chatted on IRC.redbotmgirl: No, that’s fine. It’s: [email protected]

CaptHawk: Thank you. Mine is: [email protected] For some reason, she copied the address without thinking too hard about it, and pasted that into her address book before she X’d out of the screen, not that she ever expected to hear from him again.redbotmgirl: I’ve enjoyed chatting with you, also.

redbotmgirl: Take care.

CaptHawk: You, too, Elizabeth. You should look into taking some classes on line if regular classes are hard to fit into your schedule.

redbotmgirl: Yes, Simon.

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CaptHawk: Someone really does need to take you in hand, don’t they? She wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole, discreetly not replying. CaptHawk: Have a good night. Sleep well. And he was gone, off the channel and IRC all together. That was one of the most unusual chats she’d ever had – it wasn’t entirely focused on sex, and it was literate. He didn’t try to order her around, yet he hadn’t hesitated to nag her about getting her degree, either – what the hell difference did that make to him?

Maura shrugged her shoulders, took a long shower and crawled into bed, snuggling up to her stuffed animal collection, which made her feel a little less alone in the big bed. She fell asleep trying to form a picture in of him in her mind, but couldn’t quite.

They’d never even really exchanged physical descriptions of themselves – in fact, he’d told her more about what he looked like – that he was tall and wiry muscular rather than bulging – than she’d told him. That had to be some sort of record.

He appeared to be completely unconcerned with the specifics of her looks. Was he blind, or just unusual?

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