Page 238 of The Dommes

The only way she could get roles was by lying about her age. She was blessed with abundant youth… why not use it to her advantage? So she changed her birth year from ’93 to ’03. People didn’t question it. Even the agent she landed didn’t know until he did some digging and then shrugged. He would have recommended it, anyway.

She entered a world where all that mattered was how hot and young she was. “I did… things,” she says quietly. The last loud sound we heard was the smack of the belt against her ass, which is now a nice, red shade. “Ugly things. I don’t want to get into it.”

“It gave you a tough skin, didn’t it?”

“You could say that, ma’am.”

I feel sorry for her. Not because she’s another victim of a vicious system, but because everything she sacrificed for has been taken away. No, it wasn’t right for her to blackmail me or do the other things that she did, but I can’t stay mad at her anymore. A part of this ritual is learning to forgive her as much as it is her learning to let go of the shit she’s on.

And Ira… she’s so hot when she snaps her wrist, calculating the exact moment of impact. She looks composed up top until you notice how she sweats all over. I don’t doubt for two seconds that she wants to fuck Stephanie until they’re exhausted. Maybe have me stand beside her, whispering into her ear that she’s the best Domme in the world.

She doesn’t dare. Because I’m here, and because she loves me.

As for me? I rush in excitement. It’s sexual. It’s emotional. It’s everything I love about being a Domme, and more. More. I’ve never helped a woman like I’ve been helped by Ira. You can’t see it beneath my dress, but I am turned on by Topping Stephanie emotionally while Ira takes her physically.

Holy shit do we make a fantastic team!

“I’m pathetic, Queen,” Stephanie finally says with too much conviction. “I don’t deserve anything. I’m not a good mother. I couldn’t even help my husband survive. All I’m good for is being taken advantage of and lying. I’m always lying, except for now. Or am I lying?”

Ira and I exchange cautious looks. I nod.

Thwack!

It’s the hardest one yet. A large, red blot appears on Stephanie’s ass. She bows her head.

And cries.

Ira backs off. I untie Stephanie, helping her stand up, wiping away her tears with my fingertips. Her puffy face doesn’t look like an actress’s, especially with the running makeup. While Ira drops the belt onto the couch, I kiss Stephanie, tasting salt and grief as I push as much affection as I can into her.

“Do you feel better?” I ask, whispers falling into her ear. She sniffs against my shoulder.

It takes her a few minutes to calm down from her tears. In that time, she wraps her arms around me, kissing my throat, squeezing my shoulders, and rubbing the small of my back. It isn’t sexual. This woman is thirsty for affection. She probably hasn’t felt real affection since the death of her husband.

“Yes,” she finally says. “I’m sorry for everything, Queen. Thank you.”

I release her. Ira takes her away from me.

“It’s in the top drawer over there,” I say, anticipating her asking me where my lotion is. “Take care of her. I need a moment.”

Even Dommes need aftercare.

I go into my guest bathroom, where I lock the door and turn on the fan so I don’t have to hear what’s going on in the living room. I look at my watch. Ten minutes. Enough time for me to stand here, looking at myself in the mirror and running cold water over my skin.

That was intense.

I no longer have to ask if I’m a Domme or sub. I can be both. Deep inside, I will always be predominately a Domme. Man, woman, it doesn’t matter to me. I know I can do it for Ira now. I know she’ll support me. She’s not intimidated by my Topping other people – she’s rarely intimidated by me Topping her, although she doesn’t get off on it as much.

That’s fine. That’s more than fine.

Because it doesn’t matter. I love her. She loves me. We understand each other. Dominating and submitting isn’t about power plays. We’re not stripping each other’s power – not like that. We don’t have to play these games every day. We can be us. We can be in love and have a healthy relationship as we are.

Some people won’t understand. That’s fine. I don’t care if they do or not. Ira and I can take them on.

I go back out with my chin high and my steps heavy. I find Ira cradling poor Stephanie May, giving her the affection she so desperately needs – the closure they need from each other. I don’t know if Ira’s kissed her. I’m fine either way. I know it’s not love.

There’s a knock at my door. I open it to find the only person in the world I can entrust this mess of a woman to.

“It smells like sex and shame in here,” Eve says grimly. She’s giving me shit, but she’s not making light of it. “What am I getting into? This better be worth it. I was supposed to have a group project meeting tonight and I blew them off for your thing.”

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