Chapter 82

Kathleen

"Don't make them so tight," Ira scolds me, pushing my hands out of the way so she can finish the knot herself. "You're going to cut off circulation to her hands. You want her suing us?"

"Don't you give her ideas," I hiss back at her. Before us, trapped against the back of my couch, is Stephanie May with her skirt pulled up over her ass and her hands latched together. Unfortunately, my knot wasn't good enough for Ira's tastes.

How we came to this situation is hilarious enough to warrant my explanation. The moment I realized what Stephanie needed to get her life back was the moment I sent off that text message. Next thing I knew, I told Ira to grab a tie out of the bedroom and to make herself useful. Stephanie was going to get some old-fashioned kinky medicine.

And we were probably going to get off on it. By "we," I mean all three of us.

I test how tight Stephanie's binds are before pulling her hair back into a ponytail. A rubber band snaps into her thin, stringy blond hair. I let the ponytail fall over her side as I unzip her dress and expose the nice line of her back. Sometimes I forget how beautiful she is. I'm usually too furious at her to see anything but that smile, full of malice.

She's not smiling now. And she's definitely not full of malice.

If her black thong is any indication, she's aroused and ready for her punishment.

"You know what's going to happen, right?" I gently yank on her hair, like Ira would with mine. I want to look into her eyes as I tell her this. "You can say no. We're being a bit sadistic, but we're not… what you implied earlier. We're doing this because we all want it. Right?"

When she can't get words out, I slack on my grip and watch her nod.

"Your safe word is Blue." Like hell she gets a great, romantic color like Red. That's between Ira and me. "Now… what do you call me, honey?"

She sneers, but it's in that delightfully bratty way I was thinking about earlier. "Mistress."

"Try again. Something more… regal."

That mumble is music to my ears. "Queen."

"Perfect." Ira stands behind Stephanie. "Now, what do you call her?"

"Sir."

I tap her ass. "No. Try again."

Her lips twitch. "King."

Normally, I wouldn't want any other woman calling my Ira that, but it's imperative tonight. We must present a united front. "That's right. Now, tell me what's going to happen?"

Stephanie's whole body tenses. "You're going to spank me."

"Who is going to spank you?" I go from pulling her hair to stroking it. "Me or her? You have to choose. You only get one of us."

Because she wants to hit me where it hurts, she admits she wants Ira to make her ass red.

"Of course you do." I wrap my arms around my girlfriend, rubbing her chest through her shirt before descending my hand to her zipper. "Don't think for a moment you're fucking her," I mutter into Ira's ear.

"Wouldn't dream of it. It's not my birthday."

Nevertheless, I undo her belt buckle and start pulling the length of the leather out of its loops. She doesn't need a belt to hold up her pants. She likes showing it off. For fashion. When you think about it, it's hotter that her initials are etched into the metal. Because she would.

I put the belt in her hand. "I trust you know how to use this on a first-timer."

"Do you call me King?"

I wink at her before stepping in front of Stephanie again. "Only once in a while."

The woman I encounter on the other side of my couch is closing her eyes and bowing her head. Classic submissive. She's a special case, though, and I want her to look me in the eye.

"You're in for a treat today, Stephanie," I say as Ira doubles up her belt and wraps one end around her hand. Between the belt and Stephanie's ass, I can't tell which is turning her on more. "Usually we Dommes save the belt for when we know our subs a bit better. They can get a bit… out of hand. And only an experienced Domme should try to control them, you know." I nod at Ira. "Good thing you and I have excellent taste."

Ira's used her belt on me once. Warning taps. A hard hit right on my ass to make sure I knew who was in charge. It was hot. And painful. At least I know she can use it safely.

"You're special to us. You're such a pain in our ass that we'll ensure you enjoy every exquisite moment of the pain we're about to hand you. Don't worry. Your ass will only be red for a while." I reach over and pat it with my hand. She may be past thirty, but Stephanie's flesh is as supple as mine was at twenty-two. "Ira knows what she's doing. Now…" As Ira lines herself up and does a couple of practice smacks against the back of the couch, I rub Stephanie's shoulder in the most calming way I muster. "Tell us why you're here, sweetie. Don't hold back the truth."

She scowls at me. "I fucking hate you."

Well, I don't think she's lying.

"You hate me, but admit it, you want me. You're as perverted as we are. You liked it when Ira fucked you rough last time. She packs nice, right? I love sticking it in my mouth before feeling it slam into my G-spot." I think she's going to spit on me. "Use your words."

"Okay! So I wanted them to keep fucking me like that."

"It's true, lovely," Ira says softly. She's staring at Stephanie's ass, but her body is turned toward me. "I could tell she wanted me to dominate her. She was ready to explore that shit."

"I see. So you wanted Ira to dominate you, but she chose me, didn't she?" My hand wraps gently around the back of Stephanie's neck, squeezing. "Is that why you kept bothering us? Because this is what you wanted?"

The belt dangles above her exposed ass. Stephanie finally sputters, "Yes."

I nod to Ira. She lightly smacks the belt against Stephanie's ass.

You can barely hear it hit her skin, but she jerks forward, sucking in her breath. I doubt it hurt, but Ira isn't going to jump in with a new woman and slap her around with a belt. Even I, her more experienced sub, got a couple of practice taps to warm me up.

Nevertheless, it worked. Stephanie lets out a pitiful moan of acquiescence.

"Tell me more," I say sweetly. "How hot does the thought of us taking you make you?"

I don't need her to answer. I know. She wants us to decimate her ass and to purge her like I was the other night.

"You're a dirty girl, Stephanie May." Another nod. Another light tap with the belt. "You like sex. Not just any sex. You like it when we slam you against the wall and fuck you. You like it when we completely use you like you're going out of style. You like feeling like a sex toy. You love it when we hold you down and fuck your brains out until you nearly collapse."

She squeaks in arousal. What kind of naughty thoughts are running through her head? Probably ones similar to mine.

Except I can look at Ira and share a moment of understanding with her. She's the only person I want to do those things to me. Fuck, now I'm getting aroused.

"Yes, Queen," Stephanie whispers. "I like those things."

Ira gives her a slightly harder tap and says, "I like those things too." I could tease her and imply that Stephanie means something else, but I know what Ira means. "I like doing those things to women like you." I know she does. That's why we get along so well.

That and moments like these.

"So we've established what a slut you can be," I say, patting Stephanie's unzipped back. "That's good. Hey, no shame. Do you know how many times I've asked her to call me a slut during sex? That's not the only reason you need this. You've been a spoiled, nasty little shit, and you're going to be punished for it. Let's start from the beginning."

I make Stephanie recount her unforgivable behavior from these past few weeks. Blackmailing me. Stalking Ira. Dating her dad to use him and to get back at Ira. Simple shit we all know about. Every time she admits to it, and that it was wrong to do, she gets progressively harder smacks to the ass with the belt.

She jerks. I smile. Ira sweats as her arousal gets more intense. Hey, I'm not going to get mad at her getting turned on. It would be weird if I was the only one she got off on!

Plus, I like seeing her leer after other women when we're like this. I mean, I would expect her to be okay with me leering after others, so…

We're ten minutes in. I've got twenty minutes to make this woman squirm and beg.

"Had enough yet?" I ask her, patting the top of her head.

She narrows her eyes. "It fucking hurts."

"You want more, though?"

Oh, she wants more.

"Start confessing. The more you get this off your chest, the freer you'll be."

What happens is something I could have never expected.

Stephanie May suddenly admits that she was in love with her husband, though from the outside it looked like she was nothing more than a gold digger targeting an old man. "I didn't care," she says. "I liked being with him. I was attracted to his money and connections, but he was really sweet. I didn't think twice about having his baby, and not because it would solidify my role in the family." When he died, she was so devastated that she couldn't take care of her kid and watched him be removed to a family member's household. To add insult to injury, her late husband's family took her to court over inheritance, where they mopped the floor with her and made sure she didn't get more than a $1000 a month allowance. Not even enough for her to support herself, so she pursued acting again.

The only way she could get roles was by lying about her age. She was blessed with abundant youth… why not use it to her advantage? So she changed her birth year from '93 to '03. People didn't question it. Even the agent she landed didn't know until he did some digging and then shrugged. He would have recommended it, anyway.

She entered a world where all that mattered was how hot and young she was. "I did… things," she says quietly. The last loud sound we heard was the smack of the belt against her ass, which is now a nice, red shade. "Ugly things. I don't want to get into it."

"It gave you a tough skin, didn't it?"

"You could say that, ma'am."

I feel sorry for her. Not because she's another victim of a vicious system, but because everything she sacrificed for has been taken away. No, it wasn't right for her to blackmail me or do the other things that she did, but I can't stay mad at her anymore. A part of this ritual is learning to forgive her as much as it is her learning to let go of the shit she's on.

And Ira… she's so hot when she snaps her wrist, calculating the exact moment of impact. She looks composed up top until you notice how she sweats all over. I don't doubt for two seconds that she wants to fuck Stephanie until they're exhausted. Maybe have me stand beside her, whispering into her ear that she's the best Domme in the world.

She doesn't dare. Because I'm here, and because she loves me.

As for me? I rush in excitement. It's sexual. It's emotional. It's everything I love about being a Domme, and more. More. I've never helped a woman like I've been helped by Ira. You can't see it beneath my dress, but I am turned on by Topping Stephanie emotionally while Ira takes her physically.

Holy shit do we make a fantastic team!

"I'm pathetic, Queen," Stephanie finally says with too much conviction. "I don't deserve anything. I'm not a good mother. I couldn't even help my husband survive. All I'm good for is being taken advantage of and lying. I'm always lying, except for now. Or am I lying?"

Ira and I exchange cautious looks. I nod.

Thwack!

It's the hardest one yet. A large, red blot appears on Stephanie's ass. She bows her head.

And cries.

Ira backs off. I untie Stephanie, helping her stand up, wiping away her tears with my fingertips. Her puffy face doesn't look like an actress's, especially with the running makeup. While Ira drops the belt onto the couch, I kiss Stephanie, tasting salt and grief as I push as much affection as I can into her.

"Do you feel better?" I ask, whispers falling into her ear. She sniffs against my shoulder.

It takes her a few minutes to calm down from her tears. In that time, she wraps her arms around me, kissing my throat, squeezing my shoulders, and rubbing the small of my back. It isn't sexual. This woman is thirsty for affection. She probably hasn't felt real affection since the death of her husband.

"Yes," she finally says. "I'm sorry for everything, Queen. Thank you."

I release her. Ira takes her away from me.

"It's in the top drawer over there," I say, anticipating her asking me where my lotion is. "Take care of her. I need a moment."

Even Dommes need aftercare.

I go into my guest bathroom, where I lock the door and turn on the fan so I don't have to hear what's going on in the living room. I look at my watch. Ten minutes. Enough time for me to stand here, looking at myself in the mirror and running cold water over my skin.

That was intense.

I no longer have to ask if I'm a Domme or sub. I can be both. Deep inside, I will always be predominately a Domme. Man, woman, it doesn't matter to me. I know I can do it for Ira now. I know she'll support me. She's not intimidated by my Topping other people – she's rarely intimidated by me Topping her, although she doesn't get off on it as much.

That's fine. That's more than fine.

Because it doesn't matter. I love her. She loves me. We understand each other. Dominating and submitting isn't about power plays. We're not stripping each other's power – not like that. We don't have to play these games every day. We can be us. We can be in love and have a healthy relationship as we are.

Some people won't understand. That's fine. I don't care if they do or not. Ira and I can take them on.

I go back out with my chin high and my steps heavy. I find Ira cradling poor Stephanie May, giving her the affection she so desperately needs – the closure they need from each other. I don't know if Ira's kissed her. I'm fine either way. I know it's not love.

There's a knock at my door. I open it to find the only person in the world I can entrust this mess of a woman to.

"It smells like sex and shame in here," Eve says grimly. She's giving me shit, but she's not making light of it. "What am I getting into? This better be worth it. I was supposed to have a group project meeting tonight and I blew them off for your thing."

I motion for Ira to bring the woman of the hour forward. When she sees Eve, I can't tell if she's wary or intrigued.

A whistle ekes out of Eve's lips. "You weren't kidding when you said you had a trip of a date for me tonight. Wait, this ain't your sloppy seconds, is it? I've got boundaries, woman."

I shake my head. "We warmed her up. Got rid of that shit that makes her such an asshole. She needs someone else to fuck her out of oblivion."

Eve raises two immaculate eyebrows. "Flattered you thought of me first. Is she even…?"

"It's not going to matter for her tonight. She's so blitzed out she would probably take on five of you."

Eve shakes her head. "She's cute, and I don't usually say no to a cute woman begging for release, but she ain't drunk, is she?"

"Only on spankings. Where you take her next is up to you, but we're done."

"Hey." Eve nudges past me and approaches Stephanie, who is spilling out of Ira's hold as she gently passes our guest to my friend. They make quite the… couple. "So, you don't know me, and I barely know who you are, but you require an experienced woman to finish this job for my friends. You can say no. Otherwise, I'm here to take you away and make you feel good for the rest of the night. Sound good?"

"I mean… I'm already feeling pretty good…"

"Fine. Make you feel better. Goodness, look at your ass. What is that? A belt?" Eve sighs. "They're a rough bunch around here. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up and all dirty again."

As Eve escorts Stephanie May from my apartment, she mouths that I owe her. I'm glad to be rid of Stephanie, however. It was fun breaking her down a bit, but what she needs now is beyond the scope of my relationship with Ira.

Speaking of whom, I put my hand on her chest and peck her lips. She's about to encircle me with her arms, but I push away, telling her there's a quick thing I want to check before succumbing to anything I feel after a night like tonight. She has to wait.

In one of my drawers, I have an address book dedicated to lawyers. That's right. Lawyers. I may not have designer friends, but I know a shitton of lawyers in various fields of expertise. The one I look up is a man I dominated a few years ago. He thinks the sun rises and descends on my ass, so he'll probably give me a discount.

Gunther Moore – Child Custody and Alimony. Last I heard, Gunther also did good work for widows' rights.

I'll call him in the morning. Stephanie didn't take my money, so I should at least help her get her kid back and some of her late husband's money so she doesn't become the next tale of an ex-actress living on the streets. Don't think she has the personality to handle that.

"You're too kind to someone like her," Ira says, looking over my shoulder. "The woman was blackmailing you and making your life hell. Why would you do any of that?"

I put the address book away. "She shouldn't have done what she did, but I understand her now. I don't think she's a bad person."

"Uh-huh." Ira curls her arms around me and pushes her hard prosthetic against my ass. "By the way, we have a big problem going on down south. It's called take care of this poor, poor me before I end up in the ER."

I snort. "You didn't think you were going to get to fuck her, did you?"

"I didn't think that for a single second, but excuse me, smacking a woman on the ass that much and watching her get off on it is going to make me randy. For you, of course."

"Of course, my love."

She grabs my breasts, pinching my nipples through my dress before moving one hand toward my thighs. "Let's skip the movie," she mutters, fingers hooking beneath my hem and pulling my skirt up. "Don't tell me that didn't make you wet enough to take me."

"Hm. Probably."

That's an invitation to test me out, Ira. Go ahead.

I'm so not disappointed when she does, rubbing my slit and feeling how wet I am. "Let's take this party to the other room." Before I can protest or give her permission, Ira turns me toward my bedroom. I loop my arms around her neck and laugh like the besotted idiot I am.

My bed shakes as I land on it, Ira pulling my legs over the edge and beating her hands into the comforter on either side of my head. Moans escape my lips as I open my legs without question. I played a cool game, but I am aroused. Man, woman… it's true. It doesn't matter the sex or gender of someone you're Topping. You will have a preference, probably, but if it goes right you will be so horny by the end of it that all you can think about is filling your pussy with whatever's handy. Like your new best friend in your partner's pants.

I don't want more foreplay. I want Ira inside of me, thrusting away until I can't even fucking see anymore. I want to feel us connected, in body and heart, grunting for her, for me, for what we're creating together.

But I don't get her yet, even though she's ripping aside my underwear and pulling her prosthetic out of her pants. No, the asshole dares to bend down and kiss me, pushing her tongue down my throat as I grab the back of her head with shaking hands.

How dare she be affectionate.

"Stop being so considerate and fuck me," I hiss, clawing her shirt and pulling my legs higher into the air. "I know you want to, so do it."

I sound like the Domme I'm still playing. Hey, I don't mind that sort of situation. Ira's more than welcome to follow my orders, especially if it gets her pinning me against my bed.

Who said I had to be on top to Top?

"You're right," she grunts, holding my legs up as she pushes into my wet entrance. "I do want to fuck you."

That tone to her voice. That glint in her eye. She's still in the head of a Domme as well.

This is… going to be interesting.

Sure enough, the next two minutes are a loud, pleasure-feasting blur as Ira drives herself into me, sparing the gentleness as she takes me roughly enough to put me in my place. I don't fall for that, however. Didn't she see me out there? This is my house. That was my sub I was sharing with her. She should feel honored that I let her express any sort of domination at all tonight. And now she thinks she's going to overpower me? She thinks this sex we're having is about me deferring to her?

I don't think so.

I bite her lip, hearing her groan in my ear as she uses all of her strength to keep me down. Her body, her determination are making me so hot that I feel myself opening up to take everything we have. Ira's kisses are both a blessing and sheer poison. They make me do things I would never otherwise consider.

"Fuck me, my prince." I'm embarrassingly famished, but not so much that I care what comes out of my mouth. All I care about is what's happening in my other lips. "Fuck me and claim me as yours."

To my utter consternation, Ira pulls out. Just as I'm about to kneel and put my lips on her, however, she pushes me back down, turning me over and lifting my ass into the air.

"Shut up," she mutters, hooking her hands beneath my thighs so they're spread and ready for her to enter me again. "The only words I want to hear are the sounds of you coming."

Try me, Ira.

All right, ah shit, I am pathetic and ridiculous. The moment she thrusts into me, wrapping her hand in my hair and holding me down by the neck so I can't even lift my head, I'm done.

I'm hers. Hers.

Body, mind, soul. It scares me how quickly I slip into this role. I don't even think about it. I do it because it feels right and because I want it.

I'm not scared anymore. If anything, I feel empowered, because this woman understands me and won't let me feel anything but aroused and pleasured.

Oh, and her too, I guess.

"Are you mine, Katie?" she asks, stilling herself inside me, wedged deep and filling me to every brim I possess. "At the end of the day, do you belong to me?"

My fingers grip my bedspread. I want to cry, because I'm so hungry for release that she is torturing me. She's so close to taking me to the edge and over it. If she went another thirty seconds…

"Yes, Mistress," I whimper. "I'm yours."

"Then you better make sure I know."

She moves again. I start to die.

"Yes, please, fuck me, Mistress!" I can only lift my arms, but my hands are content to stay splayed against the bed. My head is heavy beneath her palm. My breasts are crushed beneath me. My knees dig into the edge of my bed, my ass so high that every thrust pushes her deeper and deeper within me. "Take me!"

I want her to come as much as I want to come. I want to feel it spread through me like a burning fire, to claim me, to mark me as hers for the rest of my life. I know she's mine. I'll always know that this beast belongs to me. Right now, though, I need to feel the undying truth that my body and my heart belong to her as well.

Go ahead, Ira. Take me however you please.

Punish me.

When she spanks the side of my ass, holding still inside me, I am neither surprised nor scared. I feel shocks of pleasure zip through me. The pain is… exquisite.

"You're out there, telling me what to do, making me touch another woman while you got to have all the fun of fucking with her head." Another spank. I shriek into the comforter, willing my legs apart so she can claim all of me. "You get me so bothered that it's taking every ounce of my self-restraint to keep from being an uncontrolled creature out there. Do you know what I wanted to do, Katie?"

I whimper. "No, Mistress. What did you want to do?"

I yelp as she spanks me again. "I wanted to fuck that ass you made me get so red. You made me want to throw you on the floor and fuck you like this in front of that woman. I wanted to punish you both for turning me into this animal that I am."

You didn't, Ira. I let a smile trickle across me. "I'm sorry, Mistress. Please, punish me."

"Oh, I will."

I don't know how she does it. I don't know how she keeps herself from coming, even though she must be so far on the edge that she's about to tip over at any moment. Is it to make a point to me? That she can hold back as long as necessary? Is it to punish me, because she knows I want her to come? It's a reward, Kathleen. Your Domme isn't going to reward you until you've performed your duties.

My fingers pull against my flesh as I reach behind me, trying to open myself to her, stretching my body to its limits as she pushes herself to her own. We're going to die like this. I'm going to die.

"Are you mine, Katie?" she asks again, fucking me harder, faster. I'm so close. My toes are tingling, my breasts are begging to be touched, and the depths of my core are stroked every other second. I feel my wetness slide down my thighs every time she pulls out far enough. My clit, as I reach between my legs and rub it, is so sensitive that I almost can't come near it. "Are you my sub?"

"Yes, Mistress!" It's coming. Orgasm is taking control of me, my inner walls holding the prosthetic within me so she can't dare to escape again. "I'm yours!"

"Is your body mine?" She sounds crazed, and I don't doubt for a second that she's waiting for the right moment to unleash every bit of frustration festering inside her. "Even though you're a Domme, you belong to me, right?"

I hear her words, but my body is full of so much undying, unrelenting release that everything is trembling, including my voice. "Yes! Please! Please come!" I want to experience her release before I come down from the high that is shattering my brain.

I don't.

My orgasm subsides, and I'm… dead. That's the only word to describe me. I can't move a thing. Even though I came that hard, she still didn't. Within a few seconds, however, she's pulling out of me with a groan. I barely have time to register the sensation between my legs before she turns me onto my back and takes a step away from me.

"On your knees. Now."

You don't disobey a command like that. Not with that tone shaking you to the very bare bones of your being. So even though I'm completely through in my body, I do what my Domme commands, sliding off the edge of my bed and getting on my knees in front of her.

I think I'm going to finish her with my hands and mouth, but she's ahead of me.

Way ahead of me, based on her dislodging the prosthetic and tossing it on my bed. She kicks off her pants and boxers, bringing my face closer to her bare cunt. When my tongue instinctively reaches for it, Ira grips my hair and holds back my head. It hurts. Resplendently.

"Tell me you want it," she growls, her other hand stimulating herself. "Tell me!"

My heart is beating so fast that I think I might be sick. My eyes widen. My thighs are so wet at the thought that I am this close to asking her to fuck me again.

"Yes, Mistress," I say, forcing my chin up so I look into her hazel eyes. "Give it to me."

I mean it.

It shatters me. When she's done, sighing in such tremendous relief, I fall forward onto my hands and feel her all over my cheeks and neck. I taste it at the corner of my lips. Oh, God.

That was… the hottest thing. This is the hottest thing.

Ira sits on the bed behind me. "Kathleen?"

I laugh. Her intense heat falls down my face faster with every movement of my muscles. "You fucking asshole."

Harder, I laugh. I feel her tense behind me. Yet I am about to cackle, because here I am, begging for a dominant to come on my face.

I feel claimed. Comfortable. Freed.

My hand pats her foot. "Go start the shower, asshole. You're washing yourself off me."

She moves. A gentle hand rubs the top of my head. "Fair enough, my Queen."

A smile cracks through my visage. I watch Ira go into my bathroom, stripping out of her shirt. Such pretty, clean skin. Would be a shame if we got out of the shower and I happened to straddle her face in bed.

You see? Two can play at this game of Domme vs. Domme.