Embracing My Submission
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Authors: Jenna Jacob
Embracing My Submission
The Doms of Genesis, Book 1
Jenna Jacob
Embracing My Submission
The Doms of Genesis, Book 1
Jenna Jacob
Published by Jenna Jacob
Copyright 2012 Jenna Jacob
Edited by Chloe Vale
ePub ISBN 978-0-9885445-0-5
If you have purchased a copy of this eBook, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the rights to resell, distribute, print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
DEDICATION
For Sean, Amy, Chris, Eric, Jessie, Tyler and Jack: You fill my life with joy and complete me. I love you with all my heart, forever and a day, no matter what.
For Shelley: I wouldn’t be living my dream, if not for you. Two little words can’t begin to convey what is in my heart, but...Thank You!
For Pearl: You talk me off the ledges and raise your pom-poms over and again. Thank you for sharing your heart of gold!
For Mom, Julie, and Cindy: Your unconditional love has made me a better woman.
For Sophie: Thank you for opening the door that started the wheels turning.
To Chloe Vale: I’m so glad you have the patience of a Saint. Thank you for your editing magic.
To my family and friends: Thank you all for your love and encouragement but most of all, for believing in me.
Take a peek at the end of this story for other Jenna Jacob titles soon to be released.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
“Good evening Master George.” I smiled uncomfortably as the Dom gazed into my eyes. Quickly turning my attention to Dahlia, his submissive, I relaxed. I didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or breaching protocol with a fellow submissive. Okay so maybe I’m a bit of a coward, but self-preservation is the key. Besides, the last thing I wanted was a Dominant reprimanding me for an unintentional breech of etiquette.
“Oh, Dahlia, I love your corset. Is it new?” I cringed inside as she remained silent and lowered her eyes.
Oh, hell!
I’d failed to ask Master George’s permission to speak to his sub, thus breaching protocol.
Open mouth, insert foot...again. Priceless.
“My apologies Master George.” I swallowed tightly. “May I please have permission to speak to Dahlia, Sir?” My cheeks burned in embarrassment.
Daddy Drake, my protector and mentor, a muscle-bound, Leather-Daddy Dominant standing next to me, chidingly cleared his throat. I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head like a frickin’ laser beam while palpable displeasure rolled off his massive, tattooed body in waves.
A slight smirk curled on Master George’s lips as I cringed and lowered my eyes. Staring down at the marred wooden podium inside the lobby of Genesis, a private BDSM club where I donated my time processing the patrons for a night of wicked pleasures, I hoped Drake wouldn’t chastise me right then and there. I’d die a thousand deaths of embarrassment if he did.
Humiliation was a trigger for some submissives, but definitely not for me. Being taken to task in front of an audience might plummet some straight to their “submissive place,” but it only served to piss
me
off. Not a stellar reaction for a submissive, to say the least. Hopefully Drake would wait until the members mingling in the lobby were processed and inside the club before he took me to task. I could hope anyway.
“Any other time I would grant your wish, Emerald. My girl thanks you for your compliment. And may I say you look quite ravishing as well.”
I raised my eyes, smiling shyly then softly thanked him for his words of praise.
“Dahlia treasures your friendship, as do I. However, my girl has atonements to make this evening. If she repents to my satisfaction, perhaps later, before we leave, I will allow her to seek you out so you two may visit.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered and lowered my eyes.
Master George issued a stern look at Dahlia. I wondered what she’d done to warrant his punishment. I didn’t dare ask—I simply sent her a quick smile of reassurance, a small show of support to bolster her confidence for whatever reprimand awaited her. When she surreptitiously flashed me a quick smile and a subtle wink, I almost choked. The little vixen wasn’t the least bit rueful. She’d obviously manipulated Master George in some fashion, coerced him into dispensing a punishment for
her
pleasure. An unacceptable ploy submissives sometimes pulled known as “topping from the bottom.” I hoped she knew what the hell she was doing.
That type of subterfuge usually came back to bite a sub on the ass. I’d seen it happen time and again. Master George was a strict Dom and smart too. Dahlia’s fate could be anything from a physical punishment to sitting in a corner the rest of the night alone. Being sequestered was a heinous punishment for any sub who ached to be used by their Dom. While some Dominants enjoyed a sub with a bit of sass, trying to force your owner to give you what you want versus asking for it was a dangerous game, indeed. Maybe Dahlia was just trying to keep Master George on his toes.
Yeah, good luck with that.
I painfully bit my lips together as I tried not to burst out laughing at Dahlia’s manipulation. I’d be hard-pressed to come up with a plausible explanation to Drake or George if I allowed the tiniest giggle to escape.
“Drake. A pleasure as always.” Master George smiled and shook my mentor’s hand. “Where is your boy tonight?”
Drake issued a heavy sigh. “Trevor’s inside the club. Sammie’s keeping an eye on him for me. I’ve leashed him to the bar naked. Seems we both have some discipline to dispense this evening. I have every intention of firing his insolent ass up proper.” A sadistic sparkle flashed across Drake’s eyes.
I smiled tightly, envious of what awaited Dahlia and Trevor and longed to experience anything close to what they would receive. Unfortunately, I was missing one vital key...a Dominant. I would definitely need one to experience pleasure or pain. Knowing my fellow subs would be handing over their power to their Doms only served to reinforce the abysmal fear that I would never find the “yin” to my “yang,” never get to experience the joys of submitting to my “one.”
It didn’t stop me from yearning. No, I was relentless when it came to envisioning a strong man to take my power, coalesce it with his own, and forge me on a fantastic submissive journey. My fixation to find a Dominant was a steady, all-consuming desire that seemed to morph into an edgy, where-the-fuck-is-he demand burning inside me. I fantasized—constantly—about being collared and living happily ever after in a Dom/sub relationship, always wondering when that day, if ever, would come. Maybe I wasn’t meant to find an owner? Maybe I was destined to blow smoke up my own ass the rest of my life. Maybe there was no hope of assuaging the frustration plaguing my soul. Or maybe he was right around the corner.
You would think after pouring myself into the lifestyle, absorbing everything humanly possible about the dynamics of a Dom/sub power exchange, I would find one. Nope. Nada. I was still un-owned, still searching for that elusive “one.” Kind of like a needle in a haystack. With my luck, I could probably plop my unfulfilled ass in a needle factory and still not find him. Yet I couldn’t give up hope. It was all I had. And I was learning volumes about submission and the lifestyle as a whole, but it wasn’t doing me a damn bit of good.
Scanning the group of members assembled in the lobby, I realized every submissive waiting to be checked in had a Master or Mistress. How utterly depressing. There were times, like now, that the overwhelming hopelessness of being un-owned stirred ugly, jealous feelings toward Dahlia, Trevor, and all the other owned subs. I felt shameful, as if I wore a scarlet letter.
Shaking my head to chase the negative thoughts from my brain, I focused instead on my blessings. I wasn’t adrift in an ocean, flailing without a safety line. Drake had taken me under his wing as my protector and mentor. He was good to me and for me. He was held in high esteem in the community, but sometimes he was far too strict. I often wondered if his imposing size and reputation kept the available Dominants at bay. Were they unwilling to cross Drake’s path? Or was it all me? Was I lacking in some basic submissive way? Like a quart low on submissive pixie dust or something? I had no clue. Exhaling softly, I knew I needed to steer my negative thoughts in a more positive direction. Start a mental gratitude list. That usually worked.
Drake did his best to see that my needs were met. Over the years, we had formed a close bond, both in and out of the club. I loved him like a brother, and he knew me better than I knew myself. He always tenaciously forced me to analyze my motives and actions, even when I didn’t want to, and he never once gave up on me. I had to look at the big picture. Being protected by Drake made me a very lucky woman, even if I could still feel his eyes burning into my skull. Watching and waiting as George and Dahlia parted the heavy velvet curtains and entered the club, I turned and faced Drake. Arching my brow, I held up my palms to stave off his lecture.
