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From: "Alex" <alexpages@speakeasy.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Finding Pets and Places 01 (slow, MF, ds, Fsolo)
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Date: Sun, 25 Sep 2005 05:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "p1.txt" begin>

Finding Pets and Places

-- Chapter 1 (slow, MF, ds, Fsolo)

Jenn got home from work early, which was unusual for her.  It was her
first job, right out of college, and she was determined to work hard, as
she knew she'd have to to keep it.  It had been hard enough to get the job
in the highly competitive industry, especially for her.  Jenn, around
almost everyone, was shy, quiet, and generally small.  She was 5'5",
skinny, still almost the stick she'd always been growing up.  Her hair was
straight black and often fell into her face, making her disappear even
more.  When she was feeling demure, as she was today, she would wear
black.

By contrast, most people at her work were outspoken, outgoing, colorful,
and, from her perspective, large, in many ways.  Still, she'd been
surprised at how well she'd been able to present herself at the group
interview.  She had gotten the job and worked hard to make an impression
through her accomplishments rather than her personality.  Today was
Friday, though, and she had finished all her tasks.  Everyone else had
gone out for an exciting weekend, so she figured she at least deserved to
go home and relax.

But sitting at home by yourself, as she was finding out, can get boring
quickly.  She went over to check her email.  Nothing.  Well, maybe she'd
surf the web a bit.  Bookmarks.  She noticed a craigslist search she'd not
read in a number of months, or even since she'd left college.


She'd often read personals on craigslist in college, both m4w and w4w,
especially those that mentioned dominance in some way.  When she first ran
across the concept, she'd been fascinated, and initially identified
herself as a submissive.  At least, this was how the few boyfriends she'd
had seemed to expect her to be.  For them it wasn't a D/s relationship or
anything, it was just in the subtle ways that they expected her to follow
them around, be friends with their friends, go to the movies they wanted,
and generally have few ideas of her own.  So when she discovered that
people had real relationships like that, she figured that must be where
she fit.

She was curious, and wanted to explore, but didn't feel comfortable enough
to bring the concept up with her boyfriends.  So, on a couple occasions,
she decided try herself by signing onto chatrooms claiming to be a
submissive girl looking for someone to control her.  The concepts appealed
to her and seemed they could be exciting, but these experiments had all
ended badly.  On one occasion, a guy had told her to put paperclips on her
nipples, to which she responded, realizing it had gone too far for her and
feeling a bit angry that it had, "ow, no, you go do that to yourself.  In
fact, just go fuck yourself," before signing off.

From these experiences, and as she read more postings and stories about
such things, she realized she didn't really like being controlled.  She
especially resented the assumption that so many people seemed to make
about her: that she wouldn't take any initiative.  Moreover, she realized
she'd taken some perverse pleasure in telling the guy she'd been chatting
with to hurt himself, and especially leaving him in the midst of his
excitement.

Around this time, she'd also ended up watching Secretary with some
girlfriends.  They had all laughed at it, but she was secretly enthralled
by finally being able to see what she'd been imagining in practice.

After this, she became more interested in the postings and stories of what
sounded like quiet men looking for submissive women, not from the women's
perspective but from the men's.  Especially the concept of the man leading
what seemed like a double life: quiet, unimposing to the world, and then
dominating, almost forceful at home.  She really could understand how it
was the same person doing these things and how coherent the guy's
personality really was.  Once, she had even signed on to a chatroom
pretending to be a dominant male.  She found a submissive woman and it had
gone pretty well.  She had even gotten herself off while reading the log
of the conversation afterward.  The only thing she had a hard time with
was being as unfeeling, or, maybe more appropriately, hard as the woman
seemed to expect her to be.


Since then, she had let it go at that, distracted by the rest of her life,
and not really believing there was any way for her to fulfill these kinds
of fantasies.  But today, being home, alone, and a little lonely, she
figured why not: craigslist was always entertaining, or at least good for
a laugh.  She read a few w4w postings, enjoying the pictures, until one
caught her eye.  It was a woman, describing herself as the "dark, silent
type", looking for "similar" to "comfort and control."  Reading over the
posting, she felt herself getting excited, eager, as she realized maybe
there was a way for her to try what she wanted.  Using the relative
anonymity of craigslist, she could post as herself, looking for someone to
dominate, even describing the "double life" she imagined.

She had always been attracted to women as well as men, but, aside from a
few minor encounters in college, hadn't really had much experience with
them.  She decided she would feel more comfortable with a man, at least at
first.  Although, she was worried it would be harder to find a man who was
the right mix of confident, caring, submissive, and good looking that she
would hope to find.  Well, at least she might find someone to ease her
loneliness lately, and maybe even notice the way her underwear matched her
outfit, she thought, glancing down at the end product of her pointless
color coordination that morning.

So, she started writing.  By the time she finished, it had become much
longer than she'd intended, covering not only what she was looking for but
also a lot about her dissatisfaction with her current life and her
previous experiences.  As she went to post it, she felt a little nervous
about revealing all that stuff to the world at large.  She hesitated a
moment before deciding what the hell.  She was sure none of her friends
had the least idea the kind of stuff that went on inside her head, so
would never recognize her if for some reason they read it.  Besides, the
worst that could happen is she'd get a hundred emails she'd never respond
to.  So, there it was, out there.  She stared for a few minutes before
shutting her computer down and going to settle down in front of a movie.

She didn't get a hundred emails.  In fact, by the end of the weekend, she
had only gotten two responses.  The first one just sounded sad and
desperate, and he went on for a long time about needing direction and
purpose in his life.  That sounded like too much responsibility to her,
and not enough confidence for him.  Besides, he seemed to have a broken
shift key, so she moved on.  The second was much shorter, saying something
about hurting him, but so many words were misspelled it was hard to tell.
It also included a picture of the guy's dick, which she stared at,
fascinated and horrified for a few moments before deciding that if that
was his best feature, which it obviously must be since that's the picture
he'd decided to include, she'd best move on, and quickly.

Monday came, and work resumed control of her life, washing away the
disturbing memories of her posting experience.  Until Thursday, when she
came home to discover another response to her post.  She thought about
just deleting it, feeling a bit ashamed now remembering all she'd posted,
but figured she'd at least glance.  It was only a paragraph or so, but it
seemed to include full sentences and proper capitalization, so maybe it
was worth reading after all.

His name was Mathew.  He said he was 23, just a year her senior, and
talked about how he liked his job, but hadn't found much satisfaction in
his social life since college.  "Like you, I haven't had lasting happiness
in any of my relationships.  I've always been interested, in a guiltily-
peeking-over-my-book-from-the-corner-of-the-room-at-what-real-people-do
sort of way, in the kind of stuff you mentioned, but I've never had the
nerve to explain to anyone what I wanted lest I freak them out or they
just take the wrong way.  I can't say we're compatible... well of course I
can't, yet... but you do sound like someone I'd like to know, so maybe we
could at least be friends, and perhaps even determine if we are."

She read over it again, feeling her heart beating anxiously.  Should she
respond?  She really wanted to, but was still feeling embarrassed about
her posting.  Eventually she pressed reply and started writing, "I share
your frustration about work and socialization.  I have to tell you that
was actually my first posting ever, and I kind of feel silly about it.  I
really have never even talked to anyone about that stuff before.  But
thank you for your honesty.  Yeah, maybe we could talk sometime."  She
mentioned a quiet cafe she sometimes went to on her way from work, and
suggested they meet there soon.

She checked her email again before bed, and he'd responded already saying
he was free any evening she'd like.  She felt a jump in her stomach, but
quickly responded, "Be there tomorrow, Friday, 7:45, get a table at the
back," and sent quickly without thinking.  A few minutes later, after
putting her computer to bed and getting quickly ready herself, lying in
the dark she imagined what he'd look like, sitting at the table, nervously
waiting.  She pulled off her panties and pressed her hand against herself,
rubbing as the images drifted into a dark handsome man, naked and kneeling
between her legs in leather cuffs and a collar, licking her.  As she
drifted off to sleep she imagined pulling him up to cuddle against her
chest.


The whole next day at work she could barely concentrate she was so
anxious.  She couldn't believe she'd agreed to meet some random guy off
the internet.  Maybe she shouldn't go at all?  What if he were crazy, or a
stalker?  Or worse, what if he didn't show up at all?  On the other hand,
she was almost hoping he wouldn't, so she could just go home and relax and
forget all about it.  As if she'd be able to do that.  And what should she
wear?  She wouldn't have much time to decide between work and-- "Miss
Kinney," she was shocked back to reality by her boss barking at her,
"where are those reports I asked for?  Why is everything so difficult with
you?  Maybe we should find some better way to apply your talents.  Almost
anything must be better than this."  She opened her mouth to remind him
she'd dropped off the reports before lunch, but, before she'd even had a
chance to think better of it, he'd swooped by and gone.

As soon as she'd finished everything else she had too and enough people
had left for her to escape without being noticed, she rushed home and up
to her closet.  She knew she'd wear all black, but since much of what she
owned was black, this didn't particularly help matters.  It had already
been 7 by the time she got out of the office, so she knew she had to
hurry.  It wasn't that she didn't want him to have to wait -- in fact she
intended for him to -- but that didn't mean she wasn't going to be there
before him to check him out.  Right, clothes.  She knew she had to make an
impression...  She first pulled out a sheer black bra and matching silk
panties, and then started looking through her skirts and dresses.  They
ranged from a long, black/velvet, almost Victorian dress, complete with
laces up the back to a tight, leather top and miniskirt.  Not actually
that much of a range, actually, she thought, considering both had mainly
been for clubbing in college.  She decided on a slightly more
conservative, long dress with a sheer top, giving a dark hint of skin
below.  She completed the outfit with a pair of black leather boots with 3
inch block heels.

She quickly changed, compulsively glanced around her bedroom and
downstairs on her way out for anything embarrassing laying around, "just
in case," she thought, made sure she had everything, and left.  She got to
the place just at 7:40.  The girl at the counter and the guy waiting
tables both knew her, and the girl looked her over rather obviously as she
walked up to the counter.  "You look like you won't be here long," the
girl said.  Elizabeth, Jenn remembered, and Jake, both just out of high
school and starting college next semester.  "Maybe.  I have, um, I guess,
a date," she replied self-consciously, looking around for any single guys
at a table near the back.  "Heh.  Good luck with that," Elizabeth said,
and Jenn, seeing none, aimed herself toward a chair in a dark corner near
the front that let her watch everyone without being easily noticed.  The
place was fairly busy, although there were still a few empty tables, so
she felt fairly safe as she settled in to wait.

She watched as a couple walked in, and then a creepy-looking guy she'd
seen around before, suddenly panicking at the thought it could be him, but
he settled in near the counter, probably to harass Elizabeth, so she
relaxed.  She glanced at the time, just 7:45, and was noticing Elizabeth
saying something to Jake as they both glanced over at her when a man
walked in.  He was taller than her but not too tall, probably 5'9", and
had light brown scraggly hair, which he ran a hand over as he looked
around quickly.  "That must be him," she thought to herself, "or at least,
I hope it is...  He looks like a Matt, anyway."  He was thin but solid,
maybe 145 lbs, and wore a dress shirt and slacks, probably having just
come from work.  He spotted a table in the back and went over to it,
glancing around again before sitting down.  Jake went over to him,
presumably to see what he wanted.  The guy said something and Jake nodded
and walked off.  When he got back to the counter he glanced over at her
again, but said nothing.  Jenn looked back to the guy, sinking herself
deeper into her chair and darkness.

The guy fidgeted, glancing at the door, his watch, and looking down at the
table.  Jenn had only been watching him for a few minutes, but she
realized his nervousness didn't quite fit him.  His dress, his style all
projected confidence, but how he sat there waiting for her seemed
uncharactaristic.  He probably wasn't used to this kind of situation, she
thought, and bit her lip, suppressing a giggle; she found it endearing and
was tempted to go over now just to smile at him, but she was determined to
watch a bit longer.  Slowly he stopped shifting around so much, though he
didn't seem any more comfortable, just more still.  Jenn suddenly realized
she probably should think of what she would say when she went over.  She
should probably come up with some excuse for being late.  Or maybe she
shouldn't?  Still, she would have to say something...

The guy moved.  She was worried he was standing up to leave, but he just
pulled something out of his pocket: his wallet, it looked like.  He pulled
out a pen too, wrote something down, and put it back.  Jenn realized it
was already 8:00, and decided she should go over, once an opportunity
presented itself.  The guy glanced around again after putting his wallet
away, and then pulled out a cell phone and started doing something when
Jenn decided it was time.  She stood up quietly, and strode over to the
table, making it half way there before he looked up, fumbled putting his
cell phone away, and stood up, "Are you..." "Jenn, yes.  You must be
Mathew." He nodded, and hesitated for a moment before putting out his
hand.  She shook it and motioned for him to sit back down, sitting herself
down opposite.  She looked over to Jake, and gestured, and he brought over
two coffees, grinning.

Ignoring him she smiled at Mathew over her coffee and asked, "You're
coming from work?" deciding not to mention her tardiness.  He nodded,
"It's not far from here actually, but I live farther.  I usually take the
train, but...  I figured it'd be easier..."  He'd started fidgeting again,
and she, amazed at her own external calmness, started making conversation.
She started asking him about his work, and he seemed to relax on more
familiar territory.  She let him talk about his job and co-workers, asking
questions, catching a glimpse of how he must be at work: self-assured,
imposing.  He was probably like that much of the time, she noticed, since,
like hers, his life seemed to revolve around work.  It seemed to fit him
better, she thought, though maybe that was just because he was in a suit.
He'd probably not seem so intimidating out of it...  But that thought
reminded her of how she'd met this guy.  She'd been expecting to meet
weirdos from her post.  Interesting, even fun weirdos at best, but was
surprised to realize how much like a normal guy, a normal date even this
was seeming.  She cut off her thought process and focused back on the
story he was telling about someone he'd gotten fired.

She asked a bit about his social life.  Aside from a few close friends, he
mostly went out with people from work evenings.  He made references to
more social times in college, but didn't go into it.  When he started
asking about her work, and she started trying to explain the environment,
she started to feel like she was sinking a bit, not so sure of how to
describe it.  He must have noticed because he said, "Nevermind, we don't
have to talk about your work."  "Okay, yeah...  Sorry.  I'd like to,
sometime, it's just, I guess I don't really like it there, just feel
trapped."  He smiled, "Some other time then, I'd like to understand."  The
conversation moved on, and Jenn got another coffee, "Would you like one
too?"  "Oh, um, no, that's okay.  I, well, I don't usually drink coffee,
actually."  Jenn blushed a bit at her earlier presumption, "So what do you
drink?"  "Oh, well, tea, and juice mostly, I guess."  She grinned, and
nodded, "I'll remember."  He smiled, "Oh, that's okay, I mean, I can make
do."  "I will," she said.

They talked some more, drifting on to books and movies.  He started
seeming more relaxed, but still none of the boldness she'd seen earlier.
Finishing her coffee, she realized they were the only ones left.
Elizabeth and Jake were talking behind the counter, cleaning up absently.
They'd probably let her stay longer, but she knew they also wanted to
close and get home themselves, "We should probably get going.  It's
getting late, too."  "Oh, of course, I didn't mean to keep you."  "You
didn't," she said, "but we should do this again soon.  What's your
schedule like?"  "I'm flexible... aside from work, really whenever."  She
smiled, "call me tomorrow."  He smiled too, and nodded.  They hugged
briefly, and left, her walking out first to her car, reminded of the boots
she was wearing and enjoying her stride in them, not looking back.


He did call the next afternoon, and they ended up talking for a few hours.
She managed to explain a little more about how she felt about work,
without going into details, and he told her more about college, and his
dating experiences in the year since them.  He talked about never being
able to figure out what moves he was supposed to make, or whether girls
were even interested in him.  Near the end she almost invited him over,
but decided against it, and instead said they should get together the next
weekend, and she'd be in touch.  She got off the phone, and realized she
felt happy, confident.  Later that evening she saw the last email he'd
sent her, and decided to reply: "It's nice to talk to you.  I think
perhaps we're more compatible than you were expecting."

They exchanged more emails over the next few days, mostly just about their
days, work.  When she told him to call her Wednesday night, she was
thinking about plans for the weekend.  She got ready for bed early
Wednesday, so by the time he called, she was already in bed with the
lights out.  They talked for a long while, both telling stories of
college,  She started drifting off listening to him, and was vaguely
surprised when she noticed herself absently running her hands over her
body and touching herself.  "I'm sorry, I'm falling asleep," she said,
"probably not making very good conversationalist."  "That's okay, I don't
mind talking to you while you're asleep."  "Aw, good boy," she said, and
blinked awake, deciding she was too sleepy to be talking safely, "but go
to bed.  I'll email you tomorrow."  "Okay..." he said, sounding
surprisingly awake and excited.  "So get off, already."  "Umm..."  "The
phone, stupid."  "Oh, right.  Goodnight."  She hung up and started
touching herself more seriously, but quickly fell asleep before anything
else got off.

She emailed him Thursday morning and told him to meet her Friday after he
got off work on a corner near the train station a few blocks from her
house.  She figured then she could decide at that point whether to take
him or leave him, so to speak.  She also, randomly, instructed him to
leave his tie on after work.  Well, it was only mostly random, she thought
to herself, she did like ties.  Especially the way they always reminded
her of leashes.  She sent it, and realized she'd forgotten to tell him
what time to meet her.  Oh, well, let him figure it out.

Thursday night she stopped by her cafe on the way back from work to relax.
Elizabeth was there sitting at a table near the counter since it was
quiet.  She went back around the counter as Jenn came in and asked,
"usual?"  Jenn nodded, paid, and went to sit down with the paper.  She
didn't notice when her drink was ready, and it wasn't until Elizabeth had
walked over to her, set her drink down at the table, and sat down opposite
her that she glanced up.  "Oh, thanks."  "Sure."  They sat for a moment
before Elizabeth said, "Say, how was that guy last week?  Was he worth the
outfit?"  Jenn grinned, "Oh, yeah, well, I think he was anyway."  They
proceeded to talk about dating, and Jenn even got vaguely into how she had
posted looking for something better out of guys.

She was surprised she'd say so much, but she'd always found it easy to
talk to Elizabeth.  She remembered her mentioning at some point that her
job was kind of like bartending: part of it was being able to talk to lots
of people.  "So, I donno, I guess I wanted to try out that side of me,"
she was saying, and blushed at herself.  "Oh you should!" Elizabeth
replied.  "It sounds like he's a cool guy, and definitely hot for you it
seems.  You should drag him home and make him your pet."  Jenn gave her a
look, "I don't think it's really that easy."  At that moment a customer
walked in, and Elizabeth sighed and started to stand up, "Well, if you'd
like, I can always show you how it's done," and walked away.  Jenn sat
staring at her for a while, trying to figure out what she could have
possibly meant.  Show her how it's done?  Like, on her?  With her?  She
was kind of expecting her to come back over to explain, but she didn't,
instead going into the back after dealing with the customer.  Jenn went
back to her paper, finished her drink, and decided she probably should go.

Falling asleep that night, trying to decide what she'd do with Mathew if
they came back to her place, thoughts fuzzing as she pushed her hand into
her underwear, she remembered what Elizabeth had said.  Images of
Elizabeth, wearing a leather bra and panties, came into her head, with
Jake, naked, on hands and knees before her.  Jake had his head down, and
Elizabeth was holding a leash, pulling a bit.  Jake was replaced by
Mathew, with Jenn herself kneeling next to him.  Elizabeth put on a
strap-on, and Jenn pushed Mathew's head onto it, guiding him down as
Elizabeth wrapped her fingers through his hair and started pulling, Jenn
pushing on his ass, slapping it and pushing harder.  They turned him over
and Elizabeth pushed herself down onto his face, Jenn pulling his cock
into her.  She imagined riding him as Elizabeth rubbed her pussy all over
his face, the two girls kissing as she came in her bed.  After, she shook
her head briefly at her own fantasy, turned onto her side, curled up and
fell asleep.
<1st attachment end>


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