Page 113 of The Dommes

“You need to clean yourself up.” The tissues are in my hand yet again. “Do that for me?”

I’m struck with a new shame. It has nothing to do with sex. I don’t feel ashamed that I’m wearing sex clothes in Ira’s bed while my bodily fluids make a mess everywhere. Hey, that’s her problem once I leave. Nope, I’m ashamed because I…

Because I lost control and disobeyed my Domme.

My Domme. My Domme.

“Ira…” I clasp her wrist, sitting up and shoving the tissues between my legs. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

She looks at me, plucking my hand off her and glancing at what I’m doing below. She pulls over a trashcan for me to toss the tissues into. “It’s all right, Katie. A lot of this is still new to you. This is why we do training. However, I need you to stop fighting me. I have a limit to my patience, no matter how hot you are.”

Gee, thanks.

“Now are you going to cooperate with me? You know that you need punishing, right?”

Her hand lightly grips my thigh. I look at it, at her, at the last tissue I have in my hand that is covered in both me and her. Neither of us acknowledges it as I toss it into the trash.

“Yes, Mistress,” I say, eyes downcast. “I’m ready to obey and to accept my punishment.”

Ira wraps an affectionate arm in front of me, pulling me toward her chest. “Don’t be hard on yourself.” Her other hand strokes my hair, now tangled around my shoulder. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I enjoyed that just as much.”

I hardly doubt that’s a secret, granted how hard she came, but I don’t say anything. I’ve got the collar on, and I’m learning to behave. I’m ready to behave.

Something frightening is happening. I want to submit. I want to turn her on and make her want me more. I want to feel what it’s like when Ira Mathison turns me into her vessel of copulation. Feel her hands on me. Around me. Inside me.

This whole giving up control business isn’t so bad.

“Tell me what you did wrong,” Ira says, walking to the other side of her bedroom. She opens a closet, which on the surface is full of pressed jackets and some shirts to go with them. They’re pushed out of the way so she can rummage for something in the back. “I want to make sure you understand your indiscretions.”

“Well…” I don’t watch what she’s doing. Instead, I curl my legs up to my chest and study her bedspread. Cream-colored. Little swirls in the designs. You’d never guess her family owned a bunch of hotels. “You told me not to come, and then I came anyway. You’re right. I didn’t even try to hold it back. I didn’t care. I felt good and wanted to come, even without your permission.”

“That’s good. What else?”

“I didn’t act with propriety afterward.”

“That’s not really your fault. But you’re right, it was inappropriate.”

She comes back and drops something heavy onto the bed. Chains.

“Ira… I mean, Mistress…”

“You can’t be trusted to keep your hands to yourself.” She snaps the attached handcuffs to my wrists and pulls me back. There’s a reason a dominant like her has a headboard with wire poles. Before I know it, I’m immobilized up top. Down below.

Gloriously down below.

She lifts one leg up, bending me at the knee before clasping another chain around the ankle. The chain attaches to the bed. Then the other leg.

Man, I can barely fathom it. I’m locked into one of the most erotic positions of my life. My hands above my head. My ankles chained to the same headboard, forcing my legs up and spread. I can’t close them. I can’t move anything.

I can’t respond, aside with my voice and my extremities.

“The more submissive you become, the more irresistible you are.” Ira dusts her hands and pushes the hair out of my face. “How does it feel, being so forcibly exposed?”

I take a deep breath. “I think I like it.”

“You like having your pussy open to me like that?”

No bigger feeling of being exposed, that’s for sure. “Yes, Mistress.”

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