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Chapter 5

Kathleen

“Look what I got you!”

Eve returns with Ms. Beautiful trailing behind her. She may be a sub, but the arrogance is radiating like never before. This woman knows her worth. I like that.

“I told her that a hot Domme is looking for some tender loving.” Eve flops back into her seat, kicking up her feet on the table while Ms. Beautiful gets on her knees and looks adoringly up at me. I like what I see now that we’re this close. Girl has got some nice curves. I put one hand on her shoulder and leer into those baby browns.

“What’s your name?” I ask the sub.

“Please call me Fawn, Mistress.”

“Now, that can’t be your real name.” Yes, I’ve met women named after a baby deer before. I still don’t believe it. “And I don’t give a damn what your name is. You looking for someone to control you tonight, Fawn?”

Her smile is both reverent and full of itself. “My wish is for whatever Mistress gives.”

“Yeah, well, Mistress would like someone to shut up and do what she’s told.”

Eve raises her eyebrows at me. Fawn bows and places her hand on my knee.

Oh, bother. Well, whatever. I can work with this.

“Catch you later. I’ll text when I’m done with this one.” I wave at Eve as I take this girl by the collar and yank her toward the private rooms. I don’t have any time to waste.

I need to purge my mind.

From today, from what I saw five minutes ago when I looked down and saw Ira Mathison getting her infamous packer polished by some woman I’m gonna see in the theaters next summer.

Could’ve lived my whole life without seeing that. Just because I know what Ira gets up to with all these hot women, doesn’t mean I wanna see it for myself. Even if she is hot. Even if that controlled look on her countenance as she caught my gaze said that she didn’t give a fuck, and not giving a fuck is hot in itself.

Look, I know that I’m in a sex club. I’m gonna see people I know from around the rich neighborhood engaging in all sorts of sex acts. Can’t be helped. How the world works, etc. I don’t do anything in public, but Ira does. When she walked through those doors, I ran the risk of seeing something like that.

I’m unnerved that she gazed back at me for that long. It wasn’t menacing. In fact, she looked amused by the situation. Like we… shared a moment. Like we were Lara and Kennedy Anderssen fooling around with their mistress.

That must be why I flipped her off and made her get up and leave with her date.

“Come,” I say, yanking on Fawn’s head. She gets up and follows me down the stairs and into the main gallery, where drunken rich people are setting up hookups or already making out. Gwenyth is on stage having her pussy pleasured by her partner, but Jem is sending out an open call for a “lucky lady” to come up and give Gwenyth oral until she comes. This party is heating up, and Fawn and I need to get a room before they’re all booked.

I’m told that there is one left. #5, in the middle of the hall. Fawn and I go in. As I close and latch the door, I command her to undress and make herself comfortable. This is gonna be quick and dirty, which is pretty much how I feel right now.

“Touch yourself. Get wet. Masturbate for me, Fawn.”

I lean up against the wall, arms crossed and only half interested in my sub of the night reclining on the silk-clad mattress, her underwear coming off and her waxed pussy saying hello.

Fawn is an experienced sub. Experienced enough to know that touching herself is a show for me, her Domme. I hold my martini up and drink the last of it as I watch her fork her fingers around her folds and start pleasuring herself.

I’m trying to focus on that. I’m trying to imagine myself taking off my clothes, riding her face until I’m wet enough to hump her half to death. Then I’m gonna spread my legs and have her finger me until I come so hard that I forget everything that happened today. Considering how uptight I am right now, it’s taking me a bit to get into the fantasy, even with Fawn letting out the hot moans that would normally turn me into a naughty Domme who wants to consume the flesh of the subservient innocent.

Not tonight. All I can concentrate on are the sounds coming from the other side of the wall.

A woman is losing her breath, her vigorous moans bouncing into the wall. She must only be five inches away, depending on how thick this drywall is.

Not thick enough, but I don’t mind having a woman’s sex groans as ambiance. Rather hear a woman have a good time than nothing at all.

Her panting increases. Pretty soon, words tumble with her breaths.

“Ira…” Oh, fuck me. “Ira!”