Sometimes we do things and we don’t know why at the time. Especially in our youth. I found myself recalling such an occurrence recently when talking to a friend.
It happened when I was just nineteen – ‘the occurrence.’
I had made friends with a new group of people, all of them older than me. Gino and Rob in particular were very friendly. I’m sure if mobile phones had existed at the time we would have exchanged messages incessantly. As it was, Rob often cycled fifteen miles to come visit. I truly viewed Rob as just a friend – a good friend who I had much in common with. We would sit on the porch in the sun, listening to music and talking. Like Gino, he was very artistic. Both played guitar. Gino was in a band. It was one day when we were all at Gino’s house when I first noticed the rivalry between them. How I had not noticed it before was a mystery to me. As Gino played his latest song and laid on his Italian charm the air fairly sizzled with Rob’s annoyance.
He was actually sitting there cracking his knuckles as if he was about to knock Gino the hell out. So I struck up a conversation with Rob, asking him about his mother who had been unwell lately. As I did so, I lifted one of Gino’s art pads and got quite the eye-opener.
There on the first few pages were drawings that were obviously of me – naked. Being only nineteen and not remotely expecting to come across such a find, I failed to conceal the shock on my face.
‘What? What’s up?’ said Rob.
Gino stopped playing and tried to grab the pad but Rob got there first.
‘What the fuck?’ he cried, his face twisting up.
Gino looked flustered and shoved his hands in his pockets.
‘It’s just a sketch,’ he said.
‘I’ll tell you what it fucking is! It’s pervy. How dare you treat Sheba like that?’
Rob advanced on the smaller but older stockier Gino. And that was when I panicked.
I grabbed my bag and ran down the stairs, face flaming with I’m not sure what emotions. Once home the phone rang almost continually. I ignored it until I got my senses under control.
Did I fancy Rob?
I know I admired him, yes.
Did I fancy Gino?
Absolutely!
But him drawing me felt like a violation. Like he had a piece of me stolen, inside that damn book.
He’d asked no permission.
After a few days I spoke to Rob and asked how the rest of the night had gone. I was dreading hearing that maybe they had fought, that maybe someone got hurt. But thank goodness they hadn’t. In fact, they had patched things up and both wanted to come to visit. I was delighted. Gone was that horrible creeping feeling, that I had become a source of trouble between two good friends. I could relax again.
When they arrived, we played music – made hot chocolate. Ate donuts underneath the cherry tree outside my window. Then when the daylight began to fade and the air cooled, I suggested we go hangout in my room. Mum seemed ok with this but gave me a warning look that said, ‘if I hear anything untoward, I’ll be up there like a shot.’
We behaved…for a while. It all started to head downhill when I began reapplying my make-up. The conversation suddenly seemed to lag and in the mirror I saw them staring hard from behind me.
I found it funny.
‘What’s wrong with you two? Never seen a girl put make-up on before?’
‘Not one who looks as good as you in it,’ Gino replied.
Rob fired him a filthy look.
Oh no! Not this again.
‘Sure, anyone can look good in make-up if it’s done right,’ I said, shuffling around inside my make-up bag.
They both laughed. But something came over me – a boldness, a confidence. It silenced them. Maybe it was the steady stare I aimed at them or maybe my voice. I don’t know what a Domme gives off, what she radiates. But this was my first experiencing of it, I’m sure.
I went over to Rob and grabbed his chin.
‘I bet you’d look good in make-up,’ I told him.
Rather than look horrified he looked thrilled.
‘Try me,’ he shrugged.
I did.
I got very creative. It was more like theatre make-up really. I painted his face as a butterfly – purples, silvery blues, golds and pinks. I coated his lashes in mascara and complimented him on their length. The whole time, I was mere inches from his face. Now and then I would ask Gino for advice.
Rather than seem annoyed, he contributed often and when I was done he said I’d done a great job. We were all calm actually. Enjoying the exploratory nature of whatever it was we were doing. Gino asked to be next. He asked to be painted as a lion. But significantly, I said no. And told him I’d paint him as a cat.
It was amusing to me to see their transformation, feel the friendly nature return to the bond they shared. I was encouraging feelings of equality. Neither of them was better than the other. Just different. Little boys in men’s bodies who had momentarily gotten ahead of themselves.
And speaking of head, as I was finishing Gino’s whiskers I noticed both guys had some significant bulges going on in the trouser department. They were obviously getting a little uncomfortable. Rob plucked at his jeans and Gino coughed as if to distract.
I pretended to drop an eyebrow pencil and whilst I bent to retrieve it I reached out and slid my hands up their legs.
‘You guys seemed to really enjoy that.’
‘Yeah, it was fun,’ said Gino, his eyes boring into mine.
I murmured in agreement and slipped my hands into their jeans.
Gino groaned and Rob came instantly and violently all over my hand.
‘Fuck!’
‘Shhh!’ I warned him. ‘Mum will hear you.’
He flopped back on the bed whilst I pumped Gino’s sizeable dick to completion. Not long after, my mother decided to make an appearance and both were told it was time to go home.
‘Are you going to kiss your cat goodnight?’ said Gino, standing on the doorstep.
I smiled and kissed them both before sending them on their way.
And this I believe was the first manifestation of my Domme tendencies. I took control.