She hungers

She hungers.

Misdirected hunger, unfocussed hunger, a Domme-frenzy that is eating her up even as she hungers.

She trawls the grubby website for boys, boys that she doesn’t have to woo, boys that will come to her and offer themselves without reservation, boys that will let her do what she wants immediately, now, on first meet, without fear.

She views them, their lists of interests, looking for one who is local, one who likes pain, one who is tall and lean and slutty, one who will get naked and let himself be beaten, one who still seems interesting enough to give her something back.

She broadens her search, younger now, the younger ones she normally wouldn’t consider, the ones with whom she would have no conversation, she doesn’t want conversation, she doesn’t want to get to know them, she doesn’t want to woo, she is wooless.

He messages her, this one she viewed; they do that sometimes, these viewed submissive boys. This one, who she has already dismissed as too young, too service orientated. He offers, in that slutty way some boys do. He offers himself to be of service to her, a stranger, a ‘Domme’, that is enough.

She tells him, ‘Just a beating, that’s all I want, you are not a beatee’.

‘Oh, I am, I can be’, he offers himself.

She scoffs, he continues to offer, and she discovers that he is articulate and aware, and still he offers, and she stops scoffing.

‘Come’, she says, ‘then meet me, let’s see if you can be beaten’.

And he steps up and they meet, and she likes him, all tall and lean and young and good looking and smarter than she thought and half-nervous and sweet. She watches his mouth as he talks, his eyes, his mouth, his eyes, and he is bold and he holds her gaze and she likes that, and it makes something inside her shift, and she gives him a half smile and he smiles back and in it she sees a recognition pass between them.

He makes positive noises, says the right things, yet still he holds onto reluctance, he says yes, then maybe, then yes, then maybe, he doesn’t know.

‘I’ll give you a week’, she says, ‘to come up from a maybe to a yes, to come up with a yes please’.

‘Ok’, he agrees.

And she says goodbye with a hand on his neck to pull him to her, stepping into him to give him a kiss on the cheek, and he tilts his head down to her, compliant, she wipes his cheek of non-existent lipstick to see what it feels like to touch him. She enjoys how that feels and she would like to hurt him, to make him hard, to watch him struggle, to see his pretty face change. She turns and leaves.

They keep in touch and he assures her he is in, for two days he is in, and on the third, fourth and fifth days he is silent and on the sixth day he says ‘no’ with a lot of words.

Disappointment.

And she hungers, she trawls the grubby website for boys…