Vicki was barely making it as an interior decorator, struggling with the hardships of trying to run her own business, and she knew that she was not going to make it, already. That thought really saddened her, because she had risked her savings and her efforts on success in this business. She desperately wanted to prove that she was not the failure of the family. 
Her self-esteem was at stake, and she had little of that to begin with, so this would really hurt. 

She had gone through several jobs over the years, and being a single mom made it that much harder. Plenty of people probably thought of her as a loser, already, and she hated the thought of that reputation. How could she win their respect, if she lost her only business? 

The worst part of it was the thought of how her son viewed her. Would she ever live up to his expectation that his mom was a person worthy of his trust and admiration? She loved her son, Trent, with all of her heart, and his opinion of her counted most. What would she do if he lost respect for her? He couldn't be made to think so poorly of his mother. 

The bank would just about have to foreclose, if she didn't make that sale tomorrow, and she didn't see it happening. The past difficulties would make her a hard sell to these potential clients. It was becoming a vicious cycle, and it was catching up with her. What would she do? 

"Dad, I need to go out to the neighborhood bar. Can you watch Trent for me?" 

"Sure, dear. Trouble with work?" 

"The trouble may be no work soon, Dad. I'm facing failure." 

"I'm sorry. That's the hardest thing about a business- the risk of failure. You had to try, though. I understand that. It was your dream." 

"I'm sorry to have failed you again, Dad." 

"You're not a failure, Vicki. You're a dreamer, and sometimes dreams just don't come true. You took a chance, and I respect that." 

"Thank you, Dad. I just hope that Trent understands. It will be hard on him." 

"Don't worry, dear. Just stay here until you're back on your feet. You're my daughter, and I'll always love you." 

"Thank you, Dad. That's the best thing I've heard all day." 

"Run along, now. Go have some fun. Clear out the stress. You need a break. Just don't drive." 

"I won't, Dad. I won't get drunk, either. I'll just have a couple glasses of beer." 

"Alright. Have some fun. You need it." 

Vicki headed out, after kissing her son goodnight, in case she didn't return in time, and she made it to the local bar in minutes, on her feet. 

She hadn't been there in a while, due to her responsibilities, so the bartender didn't really recognize her. He'd seen her a couple of times, but no more than that. 

"What'll be, darling?" 

"Just a lite beer, please." 

"Tab?" 

"Yes, I suppose. Not a large one, though. I have work tomorrow." 

"That's cool. Any appetizers?" 

"Yes, I'll have some nachos. Haven't had any in ages." 

Eating her nachos, and drinking her beer, Vicki suddenly noticed the presence of a stranger with a goatee and well-combed hair. His dark brown eyes affected her rather instinctively, and she felt as if she could sense that he was somehow good news, not bad, for her. 

For one thing, he looked at her with certain degree of concern, as if he was worried about her. Strangers were often kind in bars, but rarely that nice. She had to speak to him. 

"Hi. I'm Vicki. You are?" 

"Dan. You seem a little sad, Vicki. What's wrong?" 

"I shouldn't be telling you this, since you don't deserve my stress, but I'm going to have to sell my business, and admit that I can't manage one. I'm not the aggressive, hard-nosed kind of person it takes to push ahead." 

"What kind of person are you?" 

"A well-meaning, but rather silly one, I think. I just want people to like me, so it's hard to do what it takes to succeed." 

"You want to please people?" 

"Yes." 

"You seek their approval." 

"True. I can't help it. I don't want to be disliked." 

"If I don't seem too forward, maybe you need someone to take control of your life." 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning, you need a man who will protect and provide for you, but you've got to be willing to follow him, even against social customs." 

"This is not a cult thing, is it?" 

"No, no. I'm not selling 'salvation'. That's BS, always was, and always will be. I am talking about a master- a benevolent master." 

"You mean, like, bondage?" 

"Yes. Bondage. Look, this idea probably shocks you, but feelings and desires choose you, not vice versa. They just happen, and you've got to just accept them. If you're interested, give me a call at this number." 

"Okay. I'll think about it." 

She thought that this man was just eccentric, now. Maybe he was a freak, of some kind. His almost psychic intuition about her needs chilled her to the bones. She always let men tell her what to do, including her dad. It just came easily to her. She even let her best friend, Michelle, a woman, call the shots in their friendship. 

Even now, she didn't do what she expected to do- run like Hell. She found herself wanting to at least call him, and find out what was on his mind. Dan, that was his name. What would he do to her, if she agreed? Was this permanent- could she get out of it, if it turned out to be dangerous or uncomfortable? She knew that he wanted her body, but clearly he was after something else, as well. What was it? 

She came home that night, fairly sober, and drifted to sleep with dreams of Dan, and what he might do to her, good and bad. 

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