Page 172 of The Dommes

A smile strikes my face. “I am one of those good things, huh?”

“Of course. And I want to do some good things to you.”

She takes me by the hand and leads me into her room, covering my skin in kisses and touching the nape of my neck with her nose. I feel like a silly girl who has been selected by the captain of the high school soccer team for the most romantic night of her life. When I remember that Ira was once actually captain of the girls’ varsity soccer team, I laugh.

Then I remember that was one of the reasons that high school me did want to hook up with her. Find out if all the stories were true, and whatnot.

Boy, were they. Too bad I had to wait a dozen years to find out the whole of it.

“Sit down.”

She’s left me by the bed. I sit, dressed in my nightgown for the evening, and now fully expecting her to rip it off me at any moment. She doesn’t. Instead, Ira gently pushes me down, one hand on my breast while her words take over my ear.

“Are you ready to feel something you’ve never felt before?”I dunno, Ira, am I? Because I have no idea what that even means… but I’m sure I’m about to find out.

“Relax.” As if I’m not already? “Tonight, you may be a sweet princess…” Ira’s hand wraps loosely around my neck, making my breath catch in my throat. “But I’m your King.”

Oh, shit. We’ve reached that point.

For weeks, I’ve been anticipating it, both with dread and curiosity. The day Ira wants me to call her King. A term adopted by a lot of local trans and non-binary dominants who drew inspiration from many of their drag backgrounds. It’s a word I always heard bandied about in the clubs and among my own friends’ relationships, sometimes with sarcasm, sometimes with reverent awe. It’s not a word I ever thought I’d seriously call someone in my life. Man, woman, straddling the line in between like Ira… as much as I love her, it’s not a word to ever touch my lips. It adds a layer of submission that I never thought I’d go for.

Here we fucking go.

“Yes, my King.” It’s such a weird word to say. The first time I’ve said it. Mistress… hell, I’ve been called that. I could relate to Ira adopting that word for her scenes. The air of femininity it offered subdued me. It wasn’t a huge stretch to call Ira that when the collar was on.

It’s been on for hours. Approaching days. Lord help me.

“Good. I’m glad you understand. Don’t worry, I’m a pretty benevolent King. I only care about your pleasure and safety. And mine too, of course.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Ira hesitates. “Of course. You can always ask me anything.”

“If you are someone I call my King, should I use male pronouns?”

“Likewise, you can use whatever pronouns you prefer with me. Calling me a woman, or she, or her, doesn’t change the fact that I am your King tonight. If you want to change to masculine pronouns because it helps you think about it, that’s fine. But I’ve gotten quite used to hearing such delightfully womanly words from your lips. You’re one of the only ones who confidently calls me ‘her’ and says it with love.”

I can barely look her in the hazel eyes. Something about that statement has humbled me. “Because I like the idea of being with a woman like you.”

“Says the one who has been with plenty more men than women.”

I don’t ask how she could possibly know that. At this point, Ira probably knows me so well that it doesn’t matter – she just… knows. “I do things with you I could never do with a man. I hope you understand that.”

My heart quickens as she takes time to consider that, coming up with an answer that may convey her taken offense. Instead, she says, “I’m honored. Call me whatever you want. She, he, Mistress, King…” She fights her lips twisting into a smile. “Just don’t call me ma’am.”

She caresses my ass beneath my nightgown, easing my legs open until she’s looking right at the slit I thoroughly washed in the shower. What, back for more so soon? Ira is turning into the sort of Domme who can’t stand to see her sub unmarked. I mean, that can be pretty hot, but I have my limits as a human being.

Fingers work their way around my folds, within them, stroking me gently until I collapse with a sigh and start to get wet again. Because I haven’t been wet enough this week.

Ira is going to fuck me. Might as well be prepared.

“Do you like being a dirty girl, Kathleen?” I’m turned on my side, Ira on top of me, fingering me, inhaling me as she starts to grind against me. “Because I think you do. I think these past few weeks have been a revelation for you.”

Well, she ain’t wrong.

“That’s all right. I like a woman who knows how to be dirty – and enjoys it.” Her fingers are in deep, working slowly, helping me get wetter with every movement. “Those aren’t just my favorite types of subs, but my favorite women to be with in general. Even when you’re not wearing your collar, Katie, I enjoy how much you revel in being dirty. I don’t even care if I’m not the only one who’s seen you this way. You’re the type of woman to be empowered by many people taking pleasure in you.”

All right, honey, watch it.

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