This is an early draft copy of Chapter 9, P9 nine Dom of The Jessica Files by Punis Russi. Much like we are doing with The Other Side by K.W. Turner, we will be releasing a good amount of the chapters of this story from time to time.
Please, enjoy.
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Part nine 9 of The Jessica Files, Dom. This week, we get caught up with Sir and Ma’am and learn a little more about The Department of Rules and Contracts, aka DORCs.
It was a beautiful Sunday in spring, which here in Arizona runs from February till it hits 100*. That’s anytime between the end of March and mid-May.
Jessica and I had gone out to a local bar one day to have a couple of drinks and watch the San Francisco Giants and the St. Louis Cardinals in a doubleheader.
We didn’t go out very often, mainly because of my desire to be home. We were having a great time, but then…
I noticed this lady who seemed to be eyeballing Jessica out of the corner of my eye. And it was kind of annoying, but it wasn’t harmful then.
As it got into the late afternoon, the lady decided that she would come over to our table. I wasn’t sure what to expect at first. She was of average height and weight, average looking.
Once she arrived at the table, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But then…
The lady points at Jessica and says, “I am claiming this woman as my own for contract.”
I chuckled, and Jessica slowly lowered her hand underneath the table to put it on my leg because she was nervous. But Jessica knew the rules and the procedures around something like this.
“Miss, I believe you are gravely mistaken and overstepping your bounds. I recommend that you leave immediately,” I forcefully stated to her.
Again, the lady proclaims, “I am claiming this woman as my own for contract.” But this time, she’s staring at me.
I calmly say to the lady, “You fancy yourself a Dom? Well, then, you know the rules about this, don’t you?” I stared at this lady, stupid enough to try to claim shit like this.
I mean, I’m sure as fuck of the contents of that section, as it was always crucial to me. So this is going to be interesting.
The lady looked back at Jessica, trying to stare her down, but Jessica just looked down at the table, squeezing my leg more and more as this shit continued.
“You’re a Dom, right? That takes precedence over gender orientation. I do not want to say this a second time… You need to turn around and walk away before I slap the ever-living shit out of you.”
“You can’t slap me. I’m a woman.”
I quickly stood up, and everything else stopped in the bar. You could hear a pin drop. I’m guessing they know what’s coming; ain’t nothing good is the answer.
I told the lady, “I will give you a choice of the outcome here. I offer to buy you a shot of whatever you would like up to $100.”
Damn, that’s a pretty generous offer right there in my book.
“Or I’m gonna slap you so hard the DORCs will be able to identify your body by my fingerprints.”
The lady freezes; I’m unsure if she was trying to calculate how hard I would hit her or what she wanted for a shot. I start a slow count in my head … one thousand and one, one thousand and two…
“I would like the Dalmore 18, please.”
As I was cocking my arm back to lay waste to this thing trying to circumvent the DORCs rules, I lowered my hand to my pocket and took the one hundred dollar bill out. I always kept a hundred-dollar bill in my wallet for shit like this.
I’ve had that hundred dollars in my wallet for many years now. Most people apparently like being slapped.
The waitress finally comes over now that things weren’t going to turn sour. “How would you like that, on the rocks, neat…?”
I turned to the waitress; I handed her the one hundred dollars I had initially noted and pulled out another hundred dollars. “I think she wanted a double, right?”
“Yes, that would be very kind of you, sir. Thank you.”
“Miss, you made the right choice. But, don’t ever let it happen again because some Doms are not as forgiving as I am.”
The lady looked down at the table in my direction while I presume Jessica was nearly panicking.
When the waitress returned, she handed the lady a colossal drink of whatever the fuck it was. The lady looked down at her drink, swirling it around in the glass.
Finally, the lady looks up at me directly, not quite in the eyes, and says, “I’m sorry, sir. She is just so amazing.”
And I replied, “I believe it’s time for you to go.”
Jessica and I finish our drinks, and as we are ready to go, we signal for the waitress, and she comes over again.
She says, “Thank you so much for not hitting that person. We don’t want any trouble here, and we appreciate the lengths you went to prevent an incident.”
I chuckled … Incident. The bigger problem, and she and I knew it, wasn’t any violence; it was the fact that the DORCs would be here really fast, and everybody would have to endure dealing with them.
“Could you bring us our bill or tell me what I owe to save time?” I asked
“Call it $40 out the door, tip included, fair?” she stated with much uncertainty. A LOT.
I handed the waitress forty dollars and said, “Thank you, have a wonderful evening.”
I turn to Jessica. “Are you OK, my love?”
“Yes, Sir. But Sir, were you going to hit her?”
“Jessica, she was a Dom. Do you know what the rules are?” I paused.
“I think so, Sir,” she said in a very deflated way.
“Jessica, U.S. Code 14, The Department of Rules and Contracts, Section 4, subsection 6, paragraphs 3-5, clearly note that another Dom is not allowed to poach a sub at any time, anywhere, for any reason, ever.
“Paragraphs 6 and 7 outline that I am within my rights as a Dom to take the necessary actions to protect myself and my sub, in that order, by whatever legal means necessary.”
Jessica perked up. “Yes, Sir. I remember now, Sir.”
Usually, Jessica waits for my hand to be out before she grabs mine, sometimes palm-in-palm, but pinky hooks are our favorite. Of course, it helps since we live in Hell. OK, fine… Phoenix, Arizona
As we left, Jessica held my hand tighter than I thought she had ever done before. I thought I knew why but would be surprised by the events.
As soon as we got outside, I ordered a RydemNow. While we stood there, Jessica turned towards me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “Thank you, Sir.”
I turned towards her, not saying anything but curious about what she was thinking.
“But, Sir, your hands belong on me and no one else!”
I smiled at Jessica.
“Sir, as per U.S. Code 14, The Department of Rules and Contracts, Section 4, subsection 6, Addendum R that was dually agreed to and signed by us….”
Wow! She knows her shit. Damn, I love this woman through and through.
“Sir, that addendum says that I am yours, and you are mine, and we shalt never touch another.”
“Yes, Jessica. That’s for threesomes or for either of us to fool around on the side. It’s not for this.” ”Oh, I see, Sir. So is that why we didn’t hook up with ‘eXXa’ when we had the chance?”
I thought about how the spelling of her name, using the letter X instead of the letter M, made it so annoying to pronounce. And to be honest, it just irked the shit out of me.
I stared intensely at Jessica, happy with her thoughts but unsure of where she was going. I wanted to bring out more and have a happy yum-yum time.
“Jessica, I love you. I only ever, EVER, want to be with you. You and only you. Aside from the Gatos, you are the only thing that matters to me. I love you. You are mine as I am yours.”
Jessica squeezed my fingers again, a little more complex, more joyous. “Thank you, Sir. I only want to be yours, for now, and always.”
“Well, my love, when we get home, we’ll swap your collar and ….”
I noticed her hand again rise up and gently clutch her outside collar. I know it means the world to her, as I know it fucking means the world to me. That collar is my love for her.
I often was disappointed when she did that, but I’d never said a word about it as best as I could remember.
It was something I had crafted for her, something no one else could or would ever have. It was unique, like her, and meant the world to me, like myself to her. She was just so amazing.
“Jessica, once we’ve swapped your collars, I will put my hands all over you!”
