Welcome to the A to Z Challenge 2023!
Warning: This is a kinky blog for adults only! We will be addressing topics of BDSM in our fictional posts!
Jayden is back this week with a new story! If you haven’t read our other stories, that’s okay. This one is started with T is for Terror! We’re writing about resilient submissives on our kinky blog. And honestly, this one is more romantic and suspenseful than kinky. We’ll see what happens after Z!
Welcome. “Welcome to our humble guard house,” he says with a chuckle as he pulls his rain hood down. He looks a lot less intimidating with his hood down, now that I can see his face. He reminds me of a famous actor who has a small scar near his mouth. His eyes are a piercing green, and his hair is just long enough to run my fingers through. I try to shake the thought from my mind, but maybe I’ve just been alone for too long.
“Thank you,” I say. I’m surprised that the guard house isn’t near the end of the driveway. It’s tucked off to the side. I look around, and find that there is a phone sitting on a small desk. But I panic. Who do I call? If I had my phone, I would just search for a tow company, but I can’t do that on a regular landline.
He sees my hesitation and says, “Do you need help finding a tow service?”
I nod, sheepishly. I don’t know why I am so disarmed by this man. I begin to wonder if he has dominant tendencies. I don’t know what would give me that impression from our short interactions, but there’s an energy about him that I can’t help but submit to. It’s very hard for me to find romantic and sexual partners because I am submissive, but I have been through a lot in my life outside the bedroom. I am a strong, independent woman, who sometimes wants a partner to take control for a while. What I often find, though, is men who say they want that type of woman actually don’t. They are using their dominance as an excuse to bully women or outright abuse them. Or they get frustrated the first time I stand up for myself. But I know there are good dominant men out there, I just haven’t found one in a while. For all my resilience in life, I need to get a little courage going here in the dark.
“Sure,” he says, and he pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. He does a little searching, and says, “My buddy owns this garage. I’m sure he’ll do me a favor and get your car towed. How far do you need to go?”
“Just down the road,” I say, pointing in the direction of my apartment, “but I can’t let you do me a favor like that. I can pay.”
He smirks at me, “I’m sure you can.” I wonder for a moment what he means by that, but then he says, “I’m sure you’ll give my friend lots of business with whatever car repairs you need.”
“I can’t accept that,” I say, partially concerned that this stranger is being so nice to me and partially concerned that his friend will charge me through the nose for some service my car doesn’t actually need.
“Why can’t you accept a little help from a stranger?” he asks, and he sounds sincere.
I can’t find words at first, and then I say, “Because I don’t even know your name.”
J R Vincente 