Page 160 of The Dommes

Yeah, rather walk or take a cab.

“Ms. Allen,” the doorman says outside my building. He always greets me if he notices me, but today he’s approaching, making sure he has my attention. “A letter was left at the desk to be delivered personally to you.” He hands me an envelope marked only as the letter I. Uh-huh.

“Thank you.” I flash the doorman a smile before hopping into the elevator and heading up to my floor. There’s a text from Annie on my phone, saying she tidied up my place and took care of the cat. Turns out Annie loves cats and has two of her own. When I randomly brought Sinéad home a few weeks ago, I never thought I’d see my assistant come back down from the cosmos. My housecleaner doesn’t even have to clean up after the cat. My assistant is more than happy to do it. Weirdo.

I wait to read the letter until I’m tucked away in my apartment, curled up on my sofa with a blanket around me and tea cooling on the coffee table. Anything Ira had personally delivered to me like this must be given careful attention.

Fuck the tea. I instantly wish I had grabbed alcohol the moment I saw what was in the letter.

Chapter 57

Kathleen

Sometimes I’m amazed at the amount of free time Ira has. After all, she had enough time to handwrite this contract stipulating what’s going to happen for three days next week.

Three days of me submitting to her full time.

Did I know that I would be expected to answer her every command? To cook for her if that’s what she wants? To be her maid, her sex slave? Oh, and the best part... I’m supposed to at least pretend I get off on it.

Soft-spoken. Dressed in whatever she wants me to wear. Somehow still doing my work at the hotel while serving her every whim as well.

And at night, I’m sure I’m supposed to do whatever she wants in bed and then wash her prosthetic for her in the bathroom.

Fucking Dommes, I swear to God. What is wrong with us?

Ira was kind enough to include a list of things that I will not have to worry about during our trial. No electrocution, no hot wax, no suffocation, no latex, no other partners or public sex… oh well thank goodness for that!

However, I also have a lovely list of things that I can look forward to possibly happening. The moment I put on my collar, I’ll give her permission to do whatever the hell else she wants to me. Sure, I can say my safe words and she’ll stop, but it’s the principle of the thing. The woman will own my body, my actions for three days.

I don’t just need a drink. I need an escape.

Three hours later I find myself at Midnight on a Sunday night. You never know how it’s going to be on Sunday. It’s one of the few days people like us have off to spend time indulging in kinks, but it’s also the night before a long work week. So, it fills up, but people tend to leave early. Hence my being here shortly after dinner, having a strong drink, and taking in the sights.

This time I don’t take a private booth. I am secluded in a corner, however, far enough from others that don’t really bother me, but close enough to see the action. It’s mostly established couples here, although a few stragglers make the rounds, trying to strike up a threesome here or there. Hey, when a sub’s horny, they will do what it takes to get relief.

A couple of people make eyes at me. I stare them down, threateningly, encouraging them to go find love for the night elsewhere. I’m not here to pick up a sub. Besides, Ira and I are to a point where I expect her to be exclusive to me, and it’s only right I honor that in turn. That includes touching anyone – or not, in my case.

Even though a lot of men are ripped to hell and back, their chains enticing, their abs begging for my torture. The women beguile with God and surgeon granted curves, one girl possessing a face perfect for sitting on.

Can’t think about that.

I’m here to soak up the fun of other Doms, Dommes, their toys, and their pets. I need as close to a thrill as I can get before I go ahead and try this lifestyle thing with Ira. Not only that, but I need to better understand it before submitting my mind to that sort of headspace.

I came to this club when I first considered submitting to her. Watching the Anderssens switch was a unique experience in that it helped me understand their lifestyle a bit more. Except that was sex. The Anderssens don’t lifestyle. The only people I know who do that are Eve’s family, but I’m not close enough with them to sit down and have a one-on-one girl talk with Monique about serving.

Thirty minutes pass before I find someone suitable enough. A young woman wandering around, doe-eyed in her faux innocence, but aware enough to know what she’s looking for. She swaps smiles with many of the people in suits. At one point she approaches a man I don’t recognize, getting on her knees and placing a hand on his arm. Since she’s barely wearing lingerie, let alone any clothing at all, the Dom can look right at her hardened nipples and thong bunching around her ass. He turns her away only because he’s already spoken for, his full-time sub currently in the restroom.

The girl with curly brown hair almost doesn’t see me flag her down as she walks by.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she says with a demure voice. She doesn’t drop to her knees for me, although her head is bowed and her hands clasped before her. “I’m afraid I’m not looking for a femme woman tonight.”

“Don’t worry. You’re not my type either.” I gesture to the empty chair in front of me. “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, though. I’ll buy you a drink for your time and trouble. What have you? Cosmo?”

If she were having any luck tonight, I’m sure she would politely turn me down and go find someone else to serve. Yet it’s a slow night at Midnight. She’s not going to turn down a free drink for twenty minutes.

“What’s your name?” A server brings a drink for the girl.

“I go by Nova, ma’am.”

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