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“Look at you, all dressed up for me.” Ira kisses my throat, sucking my flesh and lashing her tongue against my skin until I’m whimpering. I don’t know where to put my hands. On her shoulders? Around her waist? Do I wait for her to decide for me? “You’re beautiful.” My jacket bunches up in her hands, and I briefly worry that she’ll rip off my clothes. “You’re always beautiful, Katie. Just thinking about you at work or here at home turns me so on.”

She grips my ass, fingers attempting to push beneath the restraint of the corset. Now I am whimpering. It’s a sound I’m not used to making.

“You feel it?” Ira takes my hand and shoves it between us, making me touch her between the thighs. Yet I can’t get excited. If this were a collarless scenario, fuck yeah, I’d grab her wherever and tease her until she was tempted to shove me down on the floor and fuck me – as Ira. Not a Domme.

Is there really a difference at this point?

“Yes…” My other hand braces against her arm. “I feel it…”

“You feel what?”

Oh, good, she’s growling already. It both turns me on and emits those frightening shivers.

“I feel it…” The Avalon Neo XL. We meet again. “Mistress.”

That’s the dirtiest word I could say. Mistress. Fuck, cunt, shit, pussy… haha, those are baby words. “Mistress” means so much more. It means I’m letting myself go. That pretty soon I won’t recognize myself anymore.

“Mistress” is the most powerful word I could say. I’m deferring to Ira. I’m saying she’s above me. That she controls everything from here on out.

It’s difficult to get off my tongue.

“That’s what you do to me.” Her hand wraps around my wrist. “Every time I think about you, in any situation, I can barely redirect my thoughts.” Ira kisses my cheek, and although it’s gentle at first, there’s a bite to it that can’t go unnoticed. “You know what?”

She pauses. My breath is rough, but I manage to drag up a response. “What, Mistress?”

Now it’s her breath on my lips, hot and welcoming. I’m tempted to kiss her, but I refrain, because she hasn’t permitted me yet. I know this game. I must not overstep my bounds.

“You’re the only woman who does this to me. Has ever done this to me.”

Perhaps it’s the current state of my brain. Perhaps it’s the sheer amount of disbelief I feel. Yet nothing in Ira’s voice insinuates she’s lying. Could it be? Is she really into me that much? Is it possible that I’m the only woman who consumes her every thought?

I can’t believe it. This must be for the scene.

Ira’s voice is back in my ear, and I’m melting, every part of my body belonging to her if she wills it. “I want to take you, Katie. I want to be so rough with you that you don’t know how to walk anymore. Do you know what it means to be utterly claimed? Do you know what it means to follow your most basic animal instincts and turn into a primal creature who can’t control herself? That’s what I’m going to do to you. That’s all I want to do to you.”

My grip falters around her. Ira jerks back but does not release me.

“Starting tonight, you will learn how to let go of who you are. You’ll enter a world where all that matters is how sexual you feel. All you have to do is serve. All you have to do is enjoy serving and in turn being taken care of.”

It sounds tempting. God knows I need help letting go of my insecurities and everything else that makes me Kathleen Allen, the woman people think they know.

Ira is the only person – the only Domme – I can trust with this. I don’t know exactly what I feel for her. My heart wavers between wanting to fall in love and running far, far away.

Tonight will decide a lot of things.

“Do you want that, Katie? Do you want me to take care of you? Do you want your mind to be blissfully blank as you serve me, and take any punishment you deserve?”

I’m unaware of when it happened, but my hand is no longer on her crotch. Instead, both of my hands clutch her sides, attempting to hold myself in her embrace. I want to love on her. I want to feel her push into me, to overcome me with her strength and make me hers.

That’s it, isn’t it? That’s part of a sub’s headspace. A glimmer of hope that I can do this strikes me. In another life, maybe I was born a natural sub.

No, I am a natural sub. I have to be, otherwise this night will mean nothing.

“Yes," I say, wondering where the strength in my voice has gone. “I would like that. I don’t want to have to think at all.”

“That’s right, my love.” Ira eases me back, but all I can hear as we walk toward the bedroom doorway is “my love.” “Being a sub means giving up control. It means putting everything you want and need into my hands. I’m taking you places you never thought possible. You thought you saw your subs experience ecstasy? You don’t know anything. The best part?”

We’re in her room, my soul calling for that big, comfortable bed and wishing it could roll around in it, making love, cuddling, falling asleep together.