My name is Tabitha, not that you care.
I have bottle-black hair to my waist and I look after my body. I had my boobs done a few years back. I'm rocking a pair of nice firm double-D's now and I love the attention they get.
I've never been much of a people person. Bit of an outcast. People always seem to be able to find labels for me. Goth. Emo. Punk. Bitch. Queer. Pothead. Whatever tidy little box they can justify in an attempt to make their world make a little more sense.
I'm a lot more complicated than any single label, I guess, except maybe one, but I'll tell you more about that later.
I work as a barista during the day and do some modeling now and then when the mood strikes me. I also run a web site where I take on what we'll call private meetings for my clients. They get what they want, I get what I need. It pays the bills. I've never been broke but never had money, either. Life has been kind to me and I just go with the flow.
That is until a few weeks back when I felt a sudden truth enter my mind. It hit me pretty hard when it happened. I was at the cafe and everyone kind of paused for a moment, all at the same time. And then we all turned to look at my coworker, Sarah. She'd been with her boyfriend the night before and we all knew she'd swallowed his jizz. It was as though a huge neon sign was flashing above her head. We knew it, she knew it. She immediately hid in the back room in shame.
Fortunately for Sarah, there was a customer on the floor who was also a cum-chugger, and the horny dudes in the cafe were distracted enough by the cute little free-use **** that they forgot Sarah.
I watched with interest as she backed away from two men only to be caught by a third, her clothes torn off. It turned me on, to see her so helplessly overpowered, manhandled, humiliated. More than the erotic display, however, it was interesting that no one seemed at all concerned with the girl, even myself.
I mean, just a few minutes before, any of us would have been appalled to see this play out before our eyes, but now we had no strong feelings of empathy for her. Like she wasn't even a person. Again, I felt that twinge of arousal at the thought.
"Hey I'm on break," I said, tossing my apron to my shift manager, Robert, who barely acknowledged me.
Cool. Now where had Sarah gone off to? I wanted to spend some time exploring this bizarre new social dynamic where certain people could be justifiably molested in public without consequences.
Oh right, I promised you a label.
I'm a dominatrix.
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