I have very deep feelings about this story. I was in the death throes of a bad relationship, feeling miserable and just wanting to write something to take my mind from it. Amaya became an ideal I wish I was dating instead of the fucked up relationship I was in. A curvy geeky submissive with negligent parents, Amaya was a mix of all the best qualities from the submissives I had known.
When I started ‘Cell Phone Slave’, I intended it to be the novella that I tried to get published. This was before my major anxiety attacks when I thought I could still take over the world. I poured my heart in this story because I thought it was my one big mainstream shot. Part way through, I stopped caring about that. Too much of me was in the story and I couldn’t see myself compromising on any part of it. This is the story that made me realize how little I wanted to be successful in comparison to telling the story I wanted to tell.
Towards the end of writing this story, I met one of the great loves of my life. She was a submissive like no other. Smart, strong willed, funny and oh my god sexy. I finished Amaya’s tale a bit more objectively than I probably would have if I was still missing a submissive in my life. Because of this, the ending is just the way it should be.
Then something odd happened. I knew it was a good story, but it seemed like a waste to put it on the newsgroups I was frequenting. Newsgroup readers are a fickle lot and it seemed like the more established a writer was, the less they would read him. I knew it wasn’t long enough to be published so I was stuck. I held onto it, not really sure what to do it with it.
Years later, I had full blown anxiety breakdowns. I wasn’t writing. I sure as hell was a dom to anyone. My wife was looking at me like maybe we should divorce and I felt pretty low. I had started a blog but didn’t really have a focus or regular posts. My birthday rolled around and I was feeling pretty low. I decided to post ‘Cell Phone Slave’ as a way to personally celebrate a period when I used to be so much better. It was a personal taunt, something to provoke me to get back to that level.
Man, I was not ready for readers to like it. They fucking loved it. I loved that they loved it. I got e-mails with so many questions from people. There are so many Amayas in the world and even if I can’t be their Wesley, I can let them know that they are not the odd unique freaks they think they are. Wordslut offered to edit them and with her help I fixed the fraternity chapter which always bothered me. I made a lot of blogger friends who made me feel less of a freak myself. It was invigorating. I felt like a dom and a writer again.