Page 236 of The Dommes

“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.”