Page 110 of The Dommes

“Did that feel good?” she softly asks. “Did you come because you were turned on?”

“Y… yes, Mistress.” I’m in a daze. A disbelieving daze.

“Good girl.” The crop lands beside me on the ottoman. “You’re starting to learn. Now…” I feel her behind me, her strength, her emotions, her body as the head of the prosthetic pushes into my wet folds. Groaning, I bow my head, and I barely notice Ira pull apart my twist and take my long hair into her hand. “It’s time for me to see how well you can really obey. We’ll start by seeing how well you can control yourself.”

I hold my breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Katie. Fuck you hard and fast, and your goal is to not come.”

She must be joking.

“You don’t think I’m serious? You haven’t earned the right to come again. You’re going to amuse and pleasure me first. If you come too soon? I will punish you… and you will not like my punishment.” She pinches my tender flesh, and I grimace. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Not coming? I’m a woman, damnit. Part of the beauty of being female is endless orgasms if someone plays it right!

I have to remind myself that this is about orgasm denial. I’m not used to that on my end.

Ira’s finger dips into me, and she remarks on how wet and eager I am. I barely hear her. Even when her finger enters my mouth and I taste myself on her, all I can think about is how sore my ass is and what a sadist this woman can be.

God, I kinda love it.

“Oh my shit,” I mutter, eyes closing as Ira teases my opening. “Please, fuck me…”

She clicks her tongue, pulling back out. “I like to hear you beg, Katie, but don’t get too eager. Remember, you’re not supposed to come. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”

I know that. What is she waiting for? She thinks I can’t control a fucking orgasm? She’s lucky to get me off purely from vaginal stimulation, I mean…

The world goes black as she thrusts into me.

It’s crude. It hurts a little, especially with my sore ass, but holy fuck am I glad to have her do it, finally!

She holds still within me, her self-indulgent groan sinking into my chest. All I feel is Avalon putting XL in the name, my inner walls resting snugly around Ira Mathison’s genderbending prosthetic. Fuck me, it feels so… comfortable.

Never before has someone fucked me like this before. I didn’t even know it was possible. What have I been doing on the giving end of a strap-on all this time? I need to find those poor people and apologize for such subpar skill. If only I had known…

Ira slowly pulls out. Wetness drips from her, from me. There’s laughter. It might be her. It might be me.

Then she slams back into me, and I don’t fucking care what she says. She can say anything. Do anything. All I care is that Ira Mathison is deep within me, her hands clamping down on my hips as she thrusts with increasing speed.

In this position, every thrust shoots me forward and pulls me back again. My hair is still tight in her hand, and she pulls, yanking my head back and making my scalp tingle in pain like my ass. My earrings clink against my neck. My collar tugs at my hairs. Everything is a mixture of pain and pleasure, and when Ira calls me her “dirty girl,” all I know is that yes, yes I am her damned to hell dirty girl.

I’m not used to this debasement. A dominant bending me over, chaining me to their home, and then using my body however they wish. The movements she conducts are not with my pleasure in mind. Her prosthetic doesn’t search for my G-spot. It doesn’t pull out and rub against my clit. It’s raw desire on her end. Someone who takes what they want and leaves the rest.

She’s taking me. I’m what she wants. What I leave behind is up to me.

This shouldn’t make me come. Not sex like this. It might get me wetter, it may satisfy my craving to feel full and fucked, but it’s not going to give me an orgasm. It shouldn’t, anyway.

Yet here we are, my body starting to shudder because my brain is latched onto the idea of Ira Mathisons using me and it’s so…

It’s so…

Liberating.

This fucking hot woman with her talented moves wants me. She wants to rescue me from the evil thoughts that constantly torment my head. Not being good enough for my family. Not being accomplished enough for the business world. Nobody taking me seriously because they see a woman playing around until she gets married. People talking behind my back and saying that I overcompensate with Topping because I’m too insecure to do anything else.

Well, how about this, huh? Is this good enough? Is dressing like this and having Ira grip my hips, pull my hair, and fuck me wide open good enough?

Oh my God, her fingers are so strong, so possessive on my flesh. She’s not even touching my clit. She’s grunting, though. Such a fucking hot grunt that sends so many shivers through me. She wants me. She can’t control herself. I’m her darling, her love, her baby…

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