Page 67 of The Dommes

I can’t pry my eyes away from her abandoning me, my body spread so wide that I’m…

“See? You’re mine.”

Where is that part of me that was so happy a moment ago? Where is submissive Kathleen? Where did she go? Why is she abandoning me to this fate?

“Not so bad, huh?” Ira caresses the inside of my thigh, fingers tugging at the open edges of my folds. I’m turned on. I’m satiated. I’m so fucking fucked up by it that there’s only one way to process it.

I freak the hell out.

Chapter 26

Ira

Awoman is screaming in my home again. This is getting a bit much.

“Jesus Christ!” Kathleen leaps off my bed. A wild look in her eye tells me she’s not in her right mind. Or the wrong one. Or is it left? “What the fuck have I done?”

Forgive me if I’m slow to react. I just had long, arduous sex that included an intense orgasm on my part and accommodating a Domme’s ego. I apparently fucked up that last part.

“Katie,” I say, pushing myself up and gesturing to the empty part of my bed she abandoned. “Come back.”

Ha! Like that’s going to work.

“Who do you think you are?” Her finger wags in my direction, and there she is, Kathleen Allen marching back and forth beside my bed in disheveled underwear. This should be hot. Should be. “Oh my God, what have I done?”

She’s pulling her hair out. She’s clawing my bed like a mad woman. She’s running out of energy because, like me, she’s recovering from a hard orgasm and needs to be snuggling in bed.

Once again, should be.

“Darling.” The pet name feels meaningless right now, but I don’t know what else to do. I get up, naked after taking off the Avalon, rounding my bed, and approaching her slowly. “Come get in bed. You need aftercare.”

Everything was great for a few minutes. Fantastic. So fucking hot.

And now here we are, Kathleen storming around my bedroom.

“Don’t touch me!”

I’ve barely put my hand on her arm. Kathleen shoves me off her, that radical glow around her hardly erotic. “Katie, please. You know you need aftercare.” I’ve been at this for a long time. Usually, aftercare means rubbing some lotion into skin, sweet words, a snack, and lots and lots of cuddles, depending on how far deep I took someone. With Kathleen, I figured it would be going to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms after I finished massaging her skin and whispering how great that was into her ear. “You’ve gotta let me help you.”

“You can help me by getting this shit out of me!”

She wipes her thigh, sneers at what she finds, and flicks it off her fingers. Ouch.

Look, I’ve got pride. I know it’s stupid because the prosthetic isn’t real and here I am, all boobs and pussy right now, but it kinda hurts my feelings to see a woman I spent so much attention on just blow up like that. Acting like what I wear to feel erotic is dirty. Like what it did is going to kill her.

I would laugh at her reaction if I wasn’t mostly worried about her state of mind.

“Come on.” Gently, I divert her toward my bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She’s trembling but doesn’t fight me. She practically darts into the shower, plopping herself on the bench and almost closing the glass door in my face. I hold it open and reach in to turn on the showerhead.

“See? It’s detachable.” I hand it to her, hot water pulsing out and getting her lap wet. “Have at it. That stuff is water-based. It’s basically weak lube. It’ll be all gone in two minutes.”

Kathleen snatches the shower head from me and starts rinsing herself off with such determination that I… my feelings are hurt, damn it! I can’t let that on. I have to continue to be the Domme in this situation, although she mustn’t think that. My lazy sex-infused brain doesn’t want to think. Nevertheless, I manage to talk her down from her furious high and help her remove her underwear before it’s soaked by the water.

“I can do that for you.”

“No,” she snaps like a crocodile. “Please leave me alone.”

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