Jessica picked up her drink as the bartender moved toward her. He was busily wiping the bar down with a damp towel. He smiled his thanks at her courtesy and continued on past her, cleaning as he went.

While taking a sip of her brandy she curled a tress of her long blonde hair around her finger as she surveyed the room. She noted there were not many people here, just a few couples in booths and a couple of businessmen at a table. Perhaps the place would get busier later. She sighed and beckoned to the bar tender. 

"Can I have another, please?"

She tugged at her black bustier as she waited for her drink. The barkeep set her brandy down and took her payment. She sighed and stretched out her legs, admiring the length and shape. The her long legs looked great and the black stiletto sandals strapped to her feet just screamed "fuck me!" She knew that in her super-short black leather skirt and lace up bustier she looked hot. She glanced over to see if the barkeep noticed her legs. He was oblivious, apparently preoccupied with his chore of polishing glasses.

She rose and walked to the restroom, watching the two lone businessmen out of the corner of her eye. Neither one took any note of her passing.

She came back from the restroom and sat down at the bar again.

What was the problem here? No one was paying any attention to her at all. She may as well have been some office frump stopping by for a drink after the daily grind.

She considered leaving but decided to wait a half an hour. By nine there should be more customers in the bar.

Business did pick up, just as she suspected. More men came in, most with casually dressed women, probably dates or their wives.

The women did not react the way Jessica thought they might. Usually wives or girlfriends gave her catty looks and made sure to hold their partner's hands or sit especially close to them. These women merely gave her a cursory glance and then acted as if she wasn't there at all. There were no suspicious looks when the hubbys or dates came to the bar to order, none of the forced gaiety and excessive talking that usually was designed to keep the men's attention on them. To top that none of the dates or husbands even looked at her twice!

Over the next hour she went to the restroom three times, once dropping her clutch "by accident" and bending at the waist to pick it up. That gave everyone in the bar a clear shot of her thong clad derriere and she shivered in delight anticipating the havoc that her action might create but absolutely nothing happened. No one appeared shocked or even gave any evidence they had noticed her display at all. Frustrated, she sat at the bar nursing what she had decided was her last brandy of the evening.

Finally a lone man entered. After stopping at couple of the occupied tables and chatting for a few minutes he came up and sat down on the stool next to her. He met her eye and smiled. She gave him her best sultry look.

"Nice outfit," he said.

"Thank you. I find it very comfortable."

"You’re not from around here are you?"

"No, I am new in town. Just looking for some fun," she answered, noticing him perusing the delicate collar she wore to let knowledgeable men identify her as a submissive.

She reached up and caressed the collar, saying coolly, “Do you know the kind of fun I mean?"

The man gave tired smile and said, "You're a sub, right?"

Demurely she looked down, and then nodded, smiling softly.

She liked the guy's looks and he seemed to know what she was after.

"Okay, sub, what's your name?"

"Jessica."

"Of course,” he said and sighed. Why were all the subs these days named Jessica?

"Okay, I know that isn’t your real name.”

“How did you know that wasn’t my real name?” she gasped in disbelief.

“Call it a good hunch, but now, Jessica, are you just looking to play or are you serious?"

“I’ve never played at this and I am always serious about pleasing my man, " she retorted.

"I see. Why don't you have a master now?"

"It's a long story."

"I can guess. Want to let me try?"

"There's no way you will be able to know my story but you can try."

"Okay, let's see. You were married or in a relationship and went somewhere, moved, or something similar and met a stranger. This person acquired some kind of control over you through your husband, blackmail, or something he could extort the two of you with. He decided to force you to become his sex slave and submissive while your partner watched or something like that. He forced you to undergo humiliation and training to make you a willing sub, escalating his control and the kind of things he made you do over a period of time, correct?"

Her mouth fell open slightly and she blushed, turning deep crimson.

The man grinned and went on," You obediently did everything he asked to help your mate but then things changed. You began to love what you were doing. You reveled in being an obedient sub and performing the degrading things you were ordered to do. But when you fulfilled your partner's obligation your mentor tired of you. You no longer presented a challenge so you were sold, set free, or your husband threw you out unable to deal with what you had done. You know that plain vanilla sex will never be right for you again and here you are looking for someone to control and use you again. That’s pretty much it, isn’t it?"

"How did you know?" she managed to stammer.

He swung around on his barstool and addressed the bar patrons in a loud voice," Anyone here named Jessica who was forced into the life of a submissive and now loves it stand now!"

All of the women stood.

"Any men here who have had a sexual encounter with a sub named Jessica please stand!"

All of the men stood up.

Well, hon,” the man said,” maybe you could try the next town over. That’s where the Tiffanys go.”