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“Then why are you laughing?” she asks, looking disappointed. “That’s disrespectful. Are you being disrespectful?”
“No, Madame,” I repeat, my smile fading.
Her eyes narrow as she scrutinizes me. “Should I punish you?”
Something flutters low in my groin at the idea of punishment. My eyes instantly track to the crop in her hand, and I imagine what it might feel like to have it slapped across my back. I could take it, but do I want to?
My dick doesn’t seem to hate the idea. That’s new.
“No, Madame,” I reply, softer this time.
“On your knees.” Her voice is both sweet and sultry as she presses the tip of the riding crop down on my shoulder. I fall slowly to the floor, my knees resting against the thick red rug.
From this angle, she’s even more beautiful.
In a tight black dress that ends only inches from the very spot where I’d love to bury my face, she exudes sex and power. And I can’t say I’ve ever been so into that before.
Most of the women I’m with are timid and acquiescent. They let me lead and are eager to please.
But there’s something about this woman…
“You’re a good little puppy, aren’t you?” she asks, lifting her shiny black high-heeled shoe and pressing the toe against my chest. Without a word, I slink back to my heels, still staring up at her with a smirk on my face.
“I’ll be your puppy,” I reply snarkily.
“Tsk, tsk,” she says, touching the crop to my lips. “The only words that should come out of your mouth, aside from your safe words, are yes and Madame. Are we clear, pet?”
I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling even more. “Yes, Madame.”
A drizzling rain taps against the glass of my bedroom window as I lie awake, staring at the ceiling. I’m in my head again. And sometimes, my head is like a prison, and I’m locked behind the bars of memory and regret.
Sometimes it’s work. Sometimes it’s my mother. But lately, it’sher.
Eden. MyMadame.
I can’t keep the two straight, as if they’ve blended in my consciousness like two sides of the same coin. Either way, she’s stuck in my mind like a virus.
I turn in my bed, struggling to find a comfortable position as I beg my thoughts to quiet and allow myself some rest. I shut my eyes, letting the dark silence wash over me.
Did I push her too hard?
Did I do the right thing?
Was our connection one-sided?
Did she care about me at all?
Was I not good enough?
“Fuck.” I groan, turning to the other side. To distract myself, I pick up my phone. An unanswered text to Jade still waits on the screen. She never ignores my messages, but when I asked her two hours ago if she wanted to come over, she read it and never responded.
Things between Jade and me have been off since we saw Eden at the movie theater. I never should have told her about the Domme thing. It’s not important, so I don’t know why I did. Is she freaked out that I went to a sex club? Or that I paid a woman for sex?
I think a part of me told her about the kink stuff in a panic because I didn’t want to tell her whatreallywent on with Eden. That I paid her to be my Domme for three months, and then I stopped paying, but I kept seeing her.
“You really are a sweet thing. You listen so well,” she says, and I can tell by the smug look on her face that she means it like a playful jab. She thinks my pride will get in the way, but she’s wrong. “Crawl to me, pet.”
This is all a game. If I do what she wants, I’ll be rewarded. How bad could it be?
