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Katie bites her lip and digs her elbows into the ottoman. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my career. What am I doing and where am I going after the remodel is done? Is my whole life nothing but fixing things? Maybe I want to manage. Maybe I want to take charge of my family’s financials. Then I think… shit, that’s a lot on my shoulders. You know?”

“I know.” I pull a long piece of black silk from my sleeve and drape it across her back. “I know that kind of pressure. I’m an only child like you.”

“Yeah, but you’re… you. I’m not as confident as you. I’m a woman to the whole world.”

Oh, yes, I’m very aware of how womanly you are, Katie. I don’t say that, however, because she means something else. “That’s true. It’s unfair that people take you less seriously. Including your own family.” I don’t tell her about my struggles with getting people to take my gender – or lack thereof – seriously. It’s not about me, such as my father introducing me as his “kid” or even his “prodigal son, wink wink” to his friends but hurling his knowledge that he’s keenly aware of how I was born when he’s in a “mood.” Or my mother, as well-meaning as she is, telling people I am this, I am that, as if you can box one person up in a menagerie of labels and that’s all there is to it. Or how I feel when she and I are alone, like this, and I face the fact that she makes me feel quite womanly as well. The best lovers always do.

But it’s not about me. It’s about her.

My hand is tender against her cheek as I draw the silk up and cover her eyes. Katie clenches but accepts my blindfold. I tuck it beneath her ponytail.

“Also… I really shouldn’t have lost my cool at your house the other day. I’m sorry about that, Mistress.”

In truth, I had almost forgotten about that. Feels like water under the bridge now. Why should I care that she embarrassed us in front of our families? I don’t know how her father took it, but he hasn’t come after me yet. Safe to say this is bothering her a lot more than it is me.

Not that it’s a problem. I can punish her for it if she wants.

“You’ve learned your lesson, I’m sure, but if you need me to knock the worry out of you, I can do that, my sweet.”

Her leg shakes on the ottoman. I don’t know if she’s cramped, or if she’s thinking of something that bothers her. Either way, I need to help.

“What do you want me to do?” I kiss her forehead. “Do you want me to spank you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Her cry as I strike her flesh through the pantyhose is so delectable that I’m tempted to keep it up until she can’t bear it anymore. Except I have other plans. It’s not enough to spank her and fuck her tonight. I need to draw this out. I need to hear her cry from other sources. I need her to feel what it truly means to submit and surrender to someone like me.

Nevertheless, I spank her again. Her knee slides off the ottoman, her hips bringing it back up so she stays presented to me. I appreciate the gesture.

“You’re so fucking hot in these things.” I draw my finger down her slit, feeling her heat, her arousal. Everything. If I could, I would sink my finger into her. “It’s a pity I have to do this.”

Ripping a hole in a woman’s hosiery so you can access her body is like unwrapping a present on your birthday. Sometimes I’m convinced that’s why feminine people wear these things. Of course, I know that’s not true, but when someone like me is wound up and ready to pounce, they are going to think about these things.

Especially when you’re given a woman’s pretty, pink, wet pussy as a reward. Not to mention her ass that has been marked with your hand.

Ah, whoever said that I don’t appreciate the extreme of a good binary? I may straddle the middle, but Kathleen is extremely feminine. Outside… and in. She’s as hypnotically herself as she is a reminder of who I might have been in another life.

Her whimpers are a sonata as I bend down and bury my nose in her scent. Heady, intriguing, beguiling. No two women have the same exact perfume. They may be similar but trust me when I say that a dominant would know exactly which woman was theirs even if blindfolded. Assuming they were already familiar with her scent, of course.

“I want you to think about every negative thing you’ve been feeling lately,” I say, my tongue touching the edge of her folds. “Think about them while I start to purge your body.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I jump in, wrapping my tongue around her clit, snaking it up her slit, and slipping it deep within her – or as deep as a tongue can go. Every bit of her is delicious. Once you’ve dived in, you can’t bring yourself to escape the sea of a woman’s essence.

Particularly if that woman is Kathleen Allen.

I don’t tell her to stay quiet. I don’t want to punish her like that tonight. I’d rather listen to her voice peal every time I caress her clit, taste her arousal, and lightly smack her ass. Besides, she’s completely dedicated to me as her Domme now. I don’t need to make her hold back what she really wants to say – aside from her safe word, of course.

I doubt I’m going to hear that tonight.

My tongue goes on a journey across her body, tracing patterns on her inner thighs, touching her core, and parting her folds so I can feel her wetness spill into my mouth. Yet it’s not until I go upward, touching a place I have yet to explore, that Katie finally gasps in surprise and pulls away from me.

“Relax, darling,” I say, bringing her hips back to me. “You want to purge those negative feelings? You need to feel something new.”

Leisurely, I run my tongue across every slit I find, but I take my time with her higher one.

“Ira…” Her sweet whimpers tell me I’m doing a good job. “Please, fuck me.”