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Weren’t we having a good time? I was into it. She was into it! I had submitted myself, knelt on my cranky knees, and put my mouth on something I’ve only ever used on other people, never myself. It was a work in progress! I was even going to trigger that thing while my mouth was still on it! I am not shy!

So why did she have to go and do that?

The look on her face when she did that… maybe on accident, in the heat of the moment, maybe not… that was the look of a Domme who didn’t give a shit. Who thought I really was her possession.

Ira has been in this game longer than I have. She knows what it means to go there without another Domme’s ordering it. I feel like… I feel like…

Well! I’ve been violated!

My screaming only stops because I run out of strength. I lower the towel, looking at my smeared makeup in the mirror, wondering what it is Ira sees when she glances at me. A woman to be tamed? A woman who needs to be taught a lesson?

I trusted her to go easy on me. And she called that going easy?

In my anger, I swipe the hand soap and a box of tissues off the sink. They clatter on the floor, making a mess. I don’t care. I want her to know how displeased I am because she’s clearly not listening to me.

Angry. Betrayed. Frustrated.

What was supposed to be a night of experimentation has turned into a nightmare.

Nobody gets to do this to me. They don’t get to boss me around and do whatever the fuck they want to my mind, my body. Men do that everywhere else. Women let them. Why should anyone get to do that to me in the bedroom? I want my partner to grovel at my feet. To kiss my hand and call me Mistress.

I don’t want what Ira Mathison offers right now.

Before I can go out there and give her a piece of my mind, however, there’s one thing I must confront.

The fact that deep, deep down… in the pit of my stomach… my loins…

I’m turned on.

That’s why I couldn’t stop it. Why I didn’t move, even though I had total and complete freedom while it happened. I could’ve moved. I could’ve said no… but I didn’t.

Why? Because I’m turned on?

There are tears in my eyes, giving me another reason to pat the towel against my face. Not merely going down on her. Not merely the way she says “Katie” and gets my undies hot with that growling voice of hers when she’s aroused. Not even merely the way she grabs my hips and gets me ready to fuck like it’s going out of style.

It was the way she looked at me. Towering over me, her resolve weakening as she realized she was so hot for me that she was instinctively doing something she must have done with several submissive partners over the years. Why else do you have the goddamn Avalon Neo XL? That ain’t a Lite!

The anticipation. What would she do… how would it feel…

I’m scared because I liked it. Because the reason I didn’t move when I realized what was happening… was because I wanted it.

Don’t ask me what took over my brain. When I was going down on her, all I thought about was how good it would feel when the tides were turned. How her thighs tensed up, grew hotter, and how happy I was to still somewhat be in my element. That was a legitimate turn-on. Even if I went too far and ended it with my mouth, I didn’t care. Ira can go all night. Maybe she would reciprocate again with that masterful tongue of hers.

That isn’t what happened. Instead, Ira pushed me off, stood above me, and made sure I knew I was hers.

Just thinking about it now… No. Please don’t, body.

I sink to the floor, towel still wrapped around my face. My nipples are hard, my thighs are wet, and that uncontrollable part of my lust is begging to relive it.

I don’t know who this is!

How long do I stay in here? I have no idea. I’m holding myself to the side of the claw foot bathtub, my tears done, but my body trembling with arousal.

Hey, Kathleen… I hear that foreign part of my subconscious. It’s not so bad, darlin’. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll make you feel so good.

Don’t listen to her, Kathleen. Remember who you are! A badass Domme who cracks a whip and knows how to edge a partner until they’re pleading to come from your hand or mouth.

Give in, slut.