Chapter 23

Ira

I'm a nervous wreck.

Me, a Domme. A woman who is used to being in control. Now I'm being given the ultimate control by the woman I least expected. The woman I expected to want me the least. And now the woman I expected to submit the least.

I want her so badly. She consumes my mind all day.

I eat lunch with my father and some of his friends. We take the old-man party to a lounge to waste away the afternoon. Men with forty years on me talk about the good ol' days and chide me for still being… whatever I am. I'm masculine enough that they either think I'm a man or that I'm pretending to be one. Most don't know the term non-binary. My father goes along with it because I behave and get the job done. He was never enamored with the idea of having a daughter anyway. So here I am, the weirdest of both worlds. A manly daughter. A girlish son.

They all go along with me being into women. They know I'm single. All forms of marriage are legal here, so what about it? All the more reason for my father's oldest (and I mean oldest) friends to foist their daughters on me. Even the ones I know who vote and donate against such interests.

Yet they pour me more drinks, and my father clicks his tongue.

"Don't want to hear any talk about women right now," he mumbles. "Ira needs to be focusing on his work, or at least until the hotel is taken care of." Of course, he beams at me in that know-how way. He's a man. I'm his progeny. He wants proof of my romantic competence without actually knowing the details. I'm allowed to wait for marriage, however. I admit it's not something I think about, even as I turn thirty.

Every man I'm sitting with has a daughter, granddaughter, or niece who is looking for a "nice" partner. I know that code talk. I also don't doubt I've seen some of these young ladies at Midnight. Maybe I've screwed a couple without realizing it.

I'm not thinking of them. I'm thinking of Kathleen.

Tonight, she'll submit to me. We'll see.

I should be excited. I am. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Women can't buy experiences like this – not often. Dominating a Domme. People salivate over it. I get aroused at the thought. There are many aspects of BDSM, and one of them is helping a sub give up utter, complete control. When that sub is usually dominant? It will either be the best sex of their life…

Or the worst.

Many don't indulge more than once. Maybe they enjoyed it, but it's not something they want again. I've heard about it over drinks, in secret, from others. You're hard-pressed to find a Domme who has never subbed at least once. We're quiet about it.

I've never subbed. Never interested me. Then again, it's never interested Kathleen Allen.

Until now.

Until she picked me.

We have an early dinner where I'm offered more drinks, but I decline. I need to keep a level head for tonight. I'm entering my headspace. My headspace. The Domme's world, where I mentally prepare to initiate a beautiful young woman into my sort of play.

It won't be the first time. But it's Katie.

On the cab ride home, I think of her wearing the outfit I assigned her. Breasts pushed up. Legs spread. Her lips all over my groin as I pull her hair and call her whatever name she wants me to call her. I'll tie her up. I'll deny her the use of her senses. I'll make her beg for me… and what I keep inside of my pants. Real. Fake. Never imaginary. I've even gone out of my way to have a brand-new gender-wrenching-martial-aid delivered overnight. It's one I've used before, but it's not my usual packer. That thing has two practical functions on top of the emotional.

Sure enough, it's waiting for me at my door. I take the unmarked box inside and toss it onto my bed. Saoirse looks at it as if she can't believe I'm not opening it for her. Sorry, cat. Daddy is in another headspace.

The Kathleen headspace.

I wouldn't be a very good Domme if I didn't claim a sub like her. Even if it's one night, I want her to know what I truly feel like inside of her. Some call it penis envy – hell, I've had a therapist who refused to understand me suggest that – but really, it's all about the look on their faces when they realize I'm the one doing this to them. I, a God-created woman, have made them feel things that no man has. I know I am better than everyone else. That is my headspace.

Kathleen is bisexual. I've seen her with submissive female partners, but I've more often seen her with men. She might be surprised to know that I'm familiar with some of those sensations. I've experimented, too. So I know. How good it could feel, but how I do it better.

She will know this tonight. No reservations, all egos.

I ready my space. Make sure I know where everything is. Change my clothes, careful to get comfortable with what I've just unboxed and hope to put to use tonight. Put out some wine and check the fridge for food in case she shows up hungry. I'm playing a long game tonight. I want to make sure she's comfortable and into what I'm offering… even if it's the last thing she expects.

I don't want to scare her off. Even if it ends up with me simply rutting against her like a wild animal, my face buried in her throat, I don't care. Dominating her will be a bonus.

See? She's doing strange things to me. I don't get this nervous preparing for a date in my own home. I can't let her see me nervous. From the moment she steps through that door, I am a woman in full control.

Damnit, Kathleen, why are you putting this pressure on me?

At 8:10, when I'm texting her to make sure she's not standing me up again, someone buzzes my door.

I'm ready. That's what I tell myself when I step away from my desk and make sure the cat is locked up in the library with her food and toys so she won't disturb us. Knowing her, she'll be conked out until three, when she usually begins her next stint of crazies.

I'm going crazy.

Especially when I open the door and find Kathleen Allen, dressed as closely as she could get to my specifications.

She's damn close, considering I gave her almost no lead time.

On the surface, she looks like a woman heading home from an office job. A military green trench coat – I had asked for brown, but this works – covering her torso and down to her knees. No pants. Just a couple of black boots that clink on the floor when she walks. Those are a Domme's boots, no doubt. No buckles or belts, but they're menacing. And hot.

Kathleen's silky blond hair is coiled on top of her head in an elaborate knot. I had asked her to wear it up. Minimal makeup, aside from a hint of lipstick and some eye shadow. I want her to dress up, but to also show me a more natural side. I don't see any blush, but there's probably some concealer there.

Two diamond earrings dangle from her lobes and down her long neck. They glitter with every step, and I'm almost so entranced that I don't notice the spark in her blue eyes and the smile tugging on her lips. I close the door behind her. I don't offer to take her coat. Not yet.

I know what she's wearing – or not wearing – beneath it.

"Good evening," she says, demure but not quite submissive. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

I step behind her, hands hovering over her hips as my nose takes in the scent of the heady perfume on her neck. "Lovelier now that you're here, Katie."

She shivers when I call her that. I don't know her body language well enough yet to tell if she's annoyed or excited.

"Do you want a drink?" I move away from her before I'm enticed too much. I must draw this out. Her first time. It's always exciting – even more exciting that it's her. "I've got wine or something harder."

"Wine is fine."

She doesn't help herself to anything. I end up gesturing to the couch, which she slowly approaches. Her blond bun bobs above the back as I pull out two glasses and pour us both wine.

I need it. I don't doubt she needs it too.

The hardest part right now is trying to act cool. In control. Any sub will count on her Domme to be relaxed and, well, dominant at any moment, especially during a potential scene. It's my natural state, but this is Katie. She's seen me burp after dinner and fall asleep on a table after working for hours on end. I've talked so casually with her – had such casual sex with her – that it almost doesn't matter anymore.

Except she's not any sub. She needs me. To be strong. To be collected.

Do you know how hard it is to be collected around someone like her? Her beautiful thighs poking out from beneath her coat, giving me a hint of the garter she wears? Shit. I want to plant my lips on her and spread those thighs here on my couch. If this were that Wednesday dinner, I'd make my move doing that.

This isn't Wednesday, Ira. This is Saturday. You're a Domme now. Dominate this woman.

"Is it good?" I wrap my arm behind her, pushing my body toward her, cornering her. She's my prize tonight. My prize for wowing the council. I may have taken her right after that, but now I'm going to slowly devour her until she's so wet and writhing that she doesn't even know who she is anymore.

I know that's what she wants.

Kathleen stiffens. This is going to happen a lot tonight, I know. I'm pushing boundaries on a woman who has never had her boundaries pushed like this before. If I'm gentle with a normal woman her first time submitting? I have to treat Kathleen like a delicate doll – without being obvious that's what I'm doing. I don't want to frighten or insult her.

"It's sweet." The rim of her wineglass hovers around her pink lips. I'm still fighting back my urges from earlier today, and all I can think about are those luscious lips on my nipple, sucking like I almost got sucked on the throat by Stephanie May last night.

You kinda owe me, Katie.

"Right. You're not usually a woman who likes sweet."

She puts the glass down on the nearest table. "Sweet has its place." Her eyes glance at mine. "You're not a sweet type, though."

"No." My fingers curl around the back of her neck, marking her skin with pressure, testing her limits. "For you, I might make an exception."

From the moment I lightly kiss her throat, inhaling her intoxicating scent, and feeling myself need her more and more, I know I've got this. Maybe. Good God, I'd be happy just having vanilla sex with her on my couch like this.

Kathleen Allen gives me tremendous thrills. It's only right I give those back to her.

"Katie," I murmur against her heartbeat, feeling her relax against the couch beneath me. "Do you like it when I call you that?"

Her hand rests on my leg. Her touch is everything I want, everything I need. My body is heating up. Tonight will be such a test of self-control.

"Yes."

"No one else calls you that, right?" I've never heard it. Granted, I'm not thinking much about it as I unbutton the top of her coat and reveal that she's wearing nothing but lacy black underwear beneath. A pushup bra. Not that she needs it… but holy shit, looking into her shadowy cleavage has me… I can't help it. My hand grabs her breast, gently, although trust me when I say I'm using every ounce of restraint to keep from mauling her with devotion.

"You're the only one, Ira."

"You will call me Mistress tonight."

This time I know she's stiffening from discomfort. I reminded her of why she's here. I've established our roles. She must submit.

"You're the only one, Mistress."

Her voice is droll. Robotic. Great. She's not into it.

Yet here I am, every inch of my body reacting with such desperation for her that I go insane. So, I don't care about how she sounds at the moment. She's lucky I'm not a raging lunatic right now, splitting her in two and making her scream into the couch.

Ah, fuck.

I don't know what's going through her head. I really don't want to care. I want to hear her call me Mistress with all the need and passion I want from a sub. It's not enough to hear the word. I need to hear her true intent.

"You can say no tonight." I encounter the heat in her thigh. "You can say no to anything."

"I know that… Mistress."

"Do you not like this?"

"I'm still getting used to it."

"You're beautiful." These platitudes work for most women, but she's different. I'll need to step up my game. "So sexy and smart. I want to give you so much pleasure that you go blind."

A smile twitches on her lips. "Worship me?"

Domme talk. I can work with it. "I'll worship you, Katie. Worship you in a way no woman has ever dared to worship you before. Trust me. Do you trust me?"

"I don't know…"

"It's okay. I know what you mean."

"Do you know? I trust you to stop if I say so, but do you know me?"

"I'm learning. This is a first for both of us in a lot of ways. Give me a chance to show you a world you've never visited before."

She sucks in her breath, her lips mere inches away from mine. "All right," she whispers. "Please kiss me… Mistress."

I do. I kiss those lips like I've been yearning to all night, my tongue instantly diving down her throat, claiming everything it can. She has a small, warm mouth. Yet her tongue is fire, blazing against mine, her hand on my cheek as she kisses me back with every ounce of passion inside of her.

Shit. Shit. I'm shuddering already.

Shit, shit, her hand is on my crotch.

Normally, I would pull her hand away. Normally, I would admonish her for not following directions, but I like her sense of adventure. It's Katie. I want to go easy on the orders tonight.

It's Katie.

I don't know what that means anymore. Just that she's ruining me as much as I'm getting ready to ruin her.

As we kiss, my hand dipping into her bra to indulge in those soft nipples, her fingers pull down my zipper and search for what I have in store for her. I groan against her tongue, and the next thing I know, she's got her hand wrapped firmly around my new present.

"You don't get to play with that and not do what I want," I growl.

"And what do you want, Mistress?"

She knows. She knows. "I want you to get down on your knees and pleasure me."

I can feel that smile as she continues to kiss me. Insubordinate. I have to remind myself that she's no normal sub tonight. I have to go easy.

"Thought you would never ask."

Katie kisses my throat, the buttons on my shirt, and then my belt buckle as she slips onto the floor and in front of my legs. Her blond bun entices me to the point I grab it, filling my hand with hair as she completely pulls away the opening of my pants.

She doesn't recognize what I'm wearing. Of course she doesn't. I hadn't seen it in person until this evening, after all.

Yet she's subtle with her surprise. I doubt she knows exactly what I've got here. State-of-the-art equipment that goes beyond personal enjoyment. The kind of five-star reviews I've heard from my transgender guy friends, some of whom I used to date and introduced me to the thrilling world of prosthetics that go beyond making you feel a certain way. They make your partner feel a, uh, certain way too.

"Oh…" Katie parts her lips, hands in her lap as she pushes up her chest like a na?ve blossom. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that's the Avalon Neo XL."

My stupid smile falls off my face. "You're familiar, huh?"

A diabolical grin rips me – and my self-confidence – in half. "I own the Avalon Lite."

This is a new development, isn't it? Katie does not strike me as the type to strap up in this kind of style, regardless of what partner she's with. "The Lite isn't bad," I say in a vain attempt to keep the mood going. "I prefer this one. Full functionality."

"Yes, I know. Which is why I shall politely ask that no surprises are awaiting me."

"Surprises?"

She looks down at my lap again. "Full functionality," she reminds me.

Here we go again. The lovely reminder that this isn't any partner I'm attempting to lead in a scene. I've been with my fair share of submissive women who are already familiar with what I keep in my bedroom. I've had to teach and educate just as many. But here's Kathleen Allen, who not only probably knows the difference between wooden and leather paddles, but the Avalon Lite and the Avalon Neo XL.

The Lite is smaller. You can play with it, but that's where the fun stops. It's good for on-the-go and for beginners who are messing around while experimenting. The Neo XL is something people like me prefer when having a wild night at home with our significant others. Not just because it's a little bigger, either. It's messy. The kind that women like Katie and me usually prefer once in a while.

Yet I'm somewhat shocked that she owns one from a similar line, let alone has used it before. Dare I ask on who, or would it ruin the scene? My curiosity is getting the best of me. How long until I shut everything down so she can tell me some of her hottest stories while we cuddle in my bed?

She lifts herself, bracing against my knees as her teeth come near my chin, reminding me that I'm supposed to tell her what and when. I should already be halfway to orgasm because the Neo XL has ridges that rub against my clit when we're getting some action. That's exactly what I wanted to loosen myself up when she arrived. An orgasm. Maybe three.

Instead, her pearly-white teeth nip my lip as she says, "Go easy on me. I'm a bitch on the other side of this thing, but this is my first time taking it."

Speechless. I'm utterly speechless. And she knows it because she's attempting to take control as she kisses my neck and grabs the Avalon, rubbing the ridges against my slit and making me gasp. My decision to forego binding so I can feel every sensation against my breasts tonight is working against me as Katie flicks one of the buttons on my shirt.

"No." When I collect myself, I grab her wrist between my legs. "I told you to get on your knees. If you continue to be so insubordinate, I won't just spank you – I'll end this."

Her eyes slightly widen. Defiant? I want her to enjoy this, but damn if I don't pale in wonder to see that look in her beautiful blue eyes.

She kneels back down on the floor. I'm suddenly reminded to offer her something to make the experience more pleasant, but Katie doesn't give me the chance. She lowers her mouth.

"Like this?' she asks, grabbing my base and licking the underside of the Avalon. "Anything you want in particular?"

Yes. I refrain from saying my fantasy out loud, though. "Tonight, I'll let you decide. I'm going easy on you."

She snorts. "Whatever you say, Mistress."

There was never any doubt that she was good at this. If there's one thing we Dommes love, it's oral sex. Reward. Punishment. Neither escapes the power of our tongues, even if what we're tasting isn't made of skin. We have to be good. Part of what we offer is the promise of the kind of intense climax you only get when someone deigns to have their face between your legs.

Katie isn't just good. She's fan-fucking-tastic.

If any of this intimidates her, I never feel it. Her lips and tongue slide so effortlessly over me that I feel like I'm slipping into a sweet state of unconsciousness. I want to lie back, close my eyes, and enjoy this until I can't stand the sight, the sensations anymore. But I can't show her that side of me yet. When she looks up at me, with those big, blue eyes, her lips pulsing, her tongue licking, she can only witness my stoic demeanor.

Even though inside I am fucking dying.

That look Katie gives me. She can feel how much I love this, even if she can't see it in my poker face. She can feel it in the way I tremble against the Avalon, in the way I squeeze her bun, in the way my heat expands through our bodies. Whether she's grabbing it and kissing my bare thighs or giving everything her oral attention… she knows this is an instance where a sub has the real control.

I am losing control.

All right, Ira, it's decision time. We're almost to the point of no return. Another minute of this, and you'll be showing her what the Neo XL can really do. She will be pissed the hell off if you do it in her mouth. No surprises, right?

Maybe her breasts. The ones poking out of that pushup bra and tantalizing my eyes. Or her pretty hair… but I would like to keep grabbing it.

I'll grab it now.

"Mmf!" She instantly relaxes. For a moment even I panic that I did this too suddenly, that I'd have to wait for her to fight to catch her breath as she smacks me for that and I lose her all night, forever. But she's quick to adapt. Katie takes a deep breath through her nostrils and resumes, squeezing me, grabbing me, going faster because she knows the ridges on the other side of the Avalon are rippling against my clit.

I can't hold back. My thighs are burning, my whole pelvis screaming at me to come while I have this beautiful and gentle sight before me. The woman I've crushed on harder than any other in my life is in her lingerie, on her knees, not at all intimidated or disgusted by how I get off in the privacy of my own home.

I change.

This is the part where the brain says goodbye to all logic and reason. I've got Katie's head in my hand. Katie. Kathleen Allen.

A fucking Domme.

A Domme is on her knees, pleasuring me. Not just pleasuring me. Consuming me. Letting me make her mine. We're animals now. Losing control. Our senses. If I don't make my move right now and somehow claim her as mine mine mine my sub she will never respect me as her Domme.

Not now. Not ever.

We both know this. Her eyes flicker up and I see that look. The one that says she thinks she has the upper hand even though she's on her knees, unable to speak because she's so determined to show me how little I surprise her.

She dares to still be in the headspace of a Domme?

Kathleen needs to be taught a lesson. I've gone easy on her. Now she'll know who I am.

"Off!" I push her away. She falls back on her ass, hands reaching behind to catch her. I stand, attempting to regain myself, coming down from the space that I might have once occupied because this can't happen right now. Even though I know how I must look looming over her, that face, so defiant, distracting me from the fact that I just grabbed the Avalon in the wrong place. See, I'm trying to get those sensations off my actual body. Instead, I just grabbed the spot that makes it the Neo XL.

And there it all goes, right on Katie's face.

Oh my fucking God what have I done.

The worst part is that even though it's an accident, I have to play along. Because she is not breaking eye contact. Those big blue eyes have never been so angry yet so curious. Then it dawns on me… when her head was between my legs, was she teasing me on purpose? It would be easy to make the Avalon do its thing on purpose if you're familiar with the line. And she is. Apparently.

Yet she's sitting there, almost acting like this was part of her plan. Maybe not the end she imagined, but she had fully intended to make this happen on her terms.

Oh, no. No, no, no. That wasn't the deal.

"That was an accident," I coolly say to save some of my sanity. Katie doesn't flinch. "That one…" It's on her chest. "Was on purpose."

In an instant, her countenance changes. She knows her place now.

And you know what? It feels good. Fuck, it feels so devilishly good. Not only the way I now tease myself with the ribs but seeing this carefully constructed Domme lose all sense of self-respect in front of me.

The look in her eyes. She's both turned on and absolutely petrified at what this means.

She trembles but doesn't try to clean herself up. I catch my breath and kneel.

"That's just the beginning, my dear," I tell her. "You don't get to play your Domme power games with me. I'm in charge. I tell you what to do, what to feel, and when to fucking come." This might mean the end of my life, because that wet, panting chest, means she's this close to screaming at the top of her lungs.

No one has ever touched her face like this before. I may have crossed a line. I don't care.

"I'm going to break you, Katie. By the end of tonight, you will know what it means to submit… because that wasn't it."

I wait for her to speak. Her lips are shaking, mouth glistening, but she seems completely oblivious. She's not drunk on arousal. She's retreating into herself, reevaluating who she is and what she wants from me.

She could leave. But she doesn't

She looks up at me, stubborn, a comical sight considering what's just happened, but still a force to be reckoned with. It's like she doesn't even acknowledge it's there.

"Fuck you," she sneers with laughter behind her words. "Fuck you and bite me."

I grin. That's the Katie I know.