How to Discipline Your Vampire(3)

            I pushed through the crowd on my way out, texting Erin the news:

            STRIKE ONE.



            “Is it possible you were overreacting?” Erin asked with a sardonic grumble, and blew into her tea.

            I rolled my eyes. “It’s called having standards. And I’m tired of having this conversation.”

            She leaned forward, drawing me in with her gravity. I straightened, sorry to have disappointed her. I immediately regretted the eye roll when she began to speak in her harsh Domme tone. “Dial down the scene stuff and maybe you’ll find a match.”

            “It’s my fetish,” I scoffed, slightly cowed but strong in my conviction. “Why should I compromise?”

            She took my hand gently. “Because you’re limiting your own happiness.”

            I decided to try a new angle.

            I leaned on my elbow, attempting to look casual and unruffled. “Aren’t we all thinning the herd, so to speak? I mean, we limit ourselves to submissive men. What if you met someone amazing, but he wasn’t into the scene?”

            She shrugged. “I can be very convincing.”

            “So can I. And I think if a man has submissive tendencies, he’d do anything to be with me. And that includes role-playing to my little heart’s content.”

            I fidgeted uncomfortably under her iron gaze. She was one of the only people I knew who could unravel me, and that was why I kept her around.

            It’s important to keep it real, I told myself.

            “Why don’t you go pro? The girls at the dungeon would love to have you.”

            I dismissed her suggestion with a wave of my hand. “I want a role-playing submissive, not a job. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it just doesn’t do it for me.”

            “Do you mind doing something for me?” she asked cryptically, snatching her phone out of her bag and texting.

            I inhaled. “Sure.” I felt my abs contract with worry. She kept painfully silent for another minute while I waited.

            “You’re going to play with one of my friends, Roy. He’s got a thing for green-eyed Dommes and I’ve been meaning to set you up for weeks.”

            “This is a favor?” I asked.

            She shook her head. “You’re technically doing yourself a favor. Because you’re not going to do a scene with him.”

            I whined pathetically. “Not fair.”

            She laughed loudly and the baristas behind the counter looked over at us. So much for discretion. “You are going to have some fun, Cerise, whether you like it or not.”

            I threw my hands up, splashing some tea as I flailed. “I’m not just going to sleep with your friend because you say so. Or abandon my fetish!”

            Now it was her turn to eye roll. “You don’t have to fuck him,” she deadpanned. “Just paddle him. Or tie him up and taunt him, I don’t know. Test out your toy collection if you want. All I’m saying is give it a shot and loosen up. You may just discover you’re a traditional Domme with role-play tendencies, and not the other way around.”

            Again, she wore me down. “Fine.”

            And then she changed the subject. A lot. She went on and on about her job, her family, and the dog she was thinking about buying. It didn’t dawn on me for a good half hour that she was stalling.

            In fact, I didn’t realize she was killing time until a man approached our table. He was tall and skinny with a few piercings and tats. He looked more like the kind of musicians I liked rather than the typical men I was attracted to, but he was undeniably hot. Especially the collar around his neck. I felt my throat tighten nervously.