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“Yeah, I sure do.” Rae grinned. “You should tweezer his balls. Get him back in line.”
“Ooh, that’s evil! I love it.”
They paid for their drinks and met back up with the rest of the group, who were being regaled with a story by a huge older man in head-to-toe leather, his surprisingly toned cheeks hanging out of his assless chaps.
Angel materialized beside Rae, hissing in her ear, “You look happy. Did you get it?”
Rae gave the slightest nod.
“Thank fuck. Can we please go now?”
“We just got here. And I thought you and Miss Big Tits were hitting it off.”
“Oh, my God,” Angel said, exasperation dripping from her voice. “She is all over my cooch, saying how she wants me to be her little Black slave girl, and I’m like bitch, I don’t know you, and even if I did, I’m not into that plantation slave-master bullshit.”
Rae, as Angel knew, wasn’t into that kind of play either. Or the whole Nazi role-play some people got into. She’d heard of some Blacksubmissives finding empowerment from it by topping white Dominants from the bottom, something she still had trouble wrapping her mind around. Then again, she found agency by beating the shit out of powerful men, which probably equated to thousands of dollars saved in therapy costs.
Speaking of powerful men, Rae spotted a decent-looking guy appreciating her from across the lounge area. He wasn’t wearing a collar, and his slim-fitting dark suit, a bit out of place for the party, told her he wasn’t there to dominate anyone. Too restrictive for movement. She wasn’t sure he was a bottom until he winked at her and removed his tie, making sure she saw him as he snaked it around his wrists, a not-so-subtle move letting her know he was into bondage.
Her heart rate picked up as she imagined him tied up, his naked body a blank canvas for the pretty marks she could make.
“Okay, we can leave,” she said to Angel, “but let me get one tiny play in first. After all, I deserve a prize.”
She couldn’t wait to wipe the cocky smile off the man’s face, to watch his eyes glaze over with pleasure.
CHAPTER 25
RAE
2009
Sometimes, Rae felt like a little kid again when she set up her various dolls for scenes. She mostly used male figures, but sometimes she used female, and occasionally androgynous, dolls that reminded her of David Bowie, her dad’s favorite singer. During her live streams, she’d dress the dolls in lingerie or underwear, sometimes full outfits, but in the end, they always ended up nude.
Viv, who was way craftier than Rae expected, helped her make miniature crops and floggers with some fabric they bought. She even found shops on Etsy where people made doll-size BDSM outfits and toys. Rae’s new prized possession was a tiny strap-on dildo she’d use to punish her dolls, a.k.a. her clients on MyFreeCams. It astonished her how much they enjoyed watching her step on the dolls or dig her freshly pedicured feet into a piece of cake. The more aggressive, the better. She rarely spoke, but when she did, she’d lower her voice and inject as much sternness behind her words as possible, emulating Viv.
One of her most popular types of streams, she learned, was the one where she used dental floss or embroidery thread to tie up her dolls. Viv was teaching her about Shibari, the Japanese form of decorative rope bondage, and Rae loved creating intricate patterns with her always-willing Kens and Barbies. She found she was good at it. Plus, it didn’t matter if she imagined the dolls as Clint or any number of the other men who’d hurt her. She could lose control without harming someone like she had with Farrow. She never wanted to hurt anyone like that again. She had attended more play parties with Viv, where she practiced on actual people, and she was learning how to compartmentalize the angry part of herself, the hurt girl who wanted to hit until she saw blood. It was hard work, though, and she felt safer working on inanimate objects. With the dolls, she could do whatever she wanted, not only what her audience desired to see.
Rae wasn’t earning top dollar yet, but she was easily making enough to quit her job at Subway. And now that she was set up on Medicaid, she didn’t have to pay as much for her prenatal visits, which allowed her to buy the bigger necessities for her baby.
“Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Viv asked while they looked for a crib at a nice secondhand store. They were taking advantage of the mild September afternoon to walk around and shop.
It hadn’t taken Rae long to think of a name as soon as she’d found out she was having a girl a few weeks prior at her twenty-week visit. She remembered learning about Claude Monet her freshman year of high school, the year before her dad died. Her dad had once told her about the one and only time he’d left the country, when he was in his last year of high school. His small town’s church raised enough money for him to go on his senior trip, a week in France exploring the culture and the endless museums. He said Monet’sWater Liliesseries mesmerized him with how the soft colors danced across the canvas, as peaceful as any warm, lazy Sunday afternoon in Oklahoma. It reminded him of daysspent with a tall glass of sweet tea and a good book on the front porch, haint-blue paint overhead to ward off bad spirits.
“Lily,” Rae said with a smile.
“That’s a pretty name, hon.” Viv walked over to a crib. “Lilies symbolize rebirth. I’m not religious, as you know, but my parents forced me to attend Vacation Bible School, and we always made lilies out of tissue paper to represent the resurrection.”
Rebirth. Rae loved the idea of her child being her rebirth, her resurrection from the hell of California.
“What do you think of this one?” Viv asked, leaning on a white crib with elegantly painted green scrolls of sage.
“I love it, but I don’t know where I’ll put any of these things.” Viv had already bought a crib mattress, a white changing table, and some weird contraption that allegedly stored dirty diapers without stinking up a room.
Viv sucked in her lips, thinking. “Well, I figured we’d set up everything in your room for now. But at the rate you’re going with your streaming, I thought you’d want to move back to Oklahoma and be closer to family.”
Rae knew she couldn’t live with Viv forever, but she didn’t have a solid plan yet, aside from earning as much money as she could before the baby came at the end of November, a little over two months away. When she thought about it for too long, fear paralyzed her entire body, and she began to doubt her ability to handle a child alone. She obviously understood that a newborn wouldn’t be good for Viv’s home business, so she had no choice but to figure out a new living situation as soon as possible.
“I’m not going back to Oklahoma. At least not yet.”
