by Amy Valenti
Amy pushed away the nervousness in her body. She tried to stand confidently, squaring her shoulders and hips the way she thought a real Dominatrix would. But that still didn't solve her first problem. What the heck was she supposed to do?
Rebecca was patient, but there was only so long that Amy could just stand there. Finally, she had an idea. What if she just did what she would like? Amy smiled. That was perfect!
Well, she couldn't just lead with the spanking, so Amy tried something else. She reached over and grabbed Rebecca's breasts. Amy took her nipples and started to roll them between her fingers. But nothing happened. She expected a moan, some squirming, something, but there was nothing.
Amy stopped. Okay, time to try something else. This time Amy came close to Rebecca's ear and slowly started to lick it. That was something that she loved, but Rebecca couldn't seem to care less. Actually, by the look on her face, she was grossed out.
So, strike two. Amy decided to try one last thing. Not something that she liked, but something she hoped would appeal to Rebecca. It was simple, the sort of thing that would just make Amy laugh. She ran her fingers softly down Rebecca's back. As she did, her skin filled with goosebumps. Rebecca let out a long sigh, And Amy smiled. Finally, she was getting somewhere!
Amy kept going, deepening the pressure and eventually using her nails to scratch into Rebecca's skin. She watched as the shy girl went from being silent to begging for more. It wasn't the sort of thing Amy was into, but that didn't matter. It wasn't about her.
It was time for the next step. Instead of continuing with her long caresses, Amy gave Rebecca a small swat with her hand. As soon as she did, Amy drew her hand back. Did she hurt her? Amy held her breath and watched to see Rebecca's reaction.
Apparently, everything was fine. The girl stuck her bottom out, as if asking for the next smack. Amy smiled. If that's what she wanted, then no problem! Amy started to swat Rebecca's ass back and forth, watching as it jiggled from the impact. With each smack, she grew more confident. Amy went faster, harder.
She was enjoying herself. Actually, she enjoyed herself so much that she didn't hear Rebecca's screams.
"Stop!" she yelled.
Amy stopped in the middle of a swing. She wasn't sure what to do. Was this for real? It wasn't until then that she realized they had never established a safe word. If Rebecca was being hurt, it was her fault.
"Stop," Rebecca screamed, "for real!"
Amy dropped her hand. It wasn't until then that she realized she had only been hitting one cheek. It was as bright red as a cherry tomato. Amy winced just looking at it.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't realize!"
Rebecca didn't answer. Her whole body slumped, like she was exhausted. What should she do? Amy wanted to help, but she had no idea how. Around them, the crowd started to murmur. What was going on? Was this part of the scene?
"Keep going," Rebecca said.
Amy wasn't sure what she had heard. "What?"
"Keep going, I said."
"Are you sure?" Already, anxiety was building in Amy's stomach.
Rebecca nodded.
"Let's finish this," she said. Then she added, "But be more careful this time. Okay?"
Amy smiled. She began again. This time, she was more careful. She varied her target, moving all over Rebecca's skin. Instead of hitting one area over and over again, she spread out the impact. When Rebecca seemed in pain, Amy toned down her strength. When Rebecca seemed pleased, Amy repeated the action.
After a few minutes, Rebecca's left cheek glowed pink. That seemed to be enough for her. She moaned, shaking on the bench, and then folded forward. That was it.
The crowd applauded as she left the stage. She heard people talking about the scene.
"That was a great example of what not to do," someone said.
"Yeah, and the recovery was great," another person responded.
Amy pretended not to hear and walked towards the bar. Well, maybe it was good that everyone thought she had done that on purpose. She slumped on the high stool and took a deep breath.
A bottle of beer and a glass slid in her direction. Amy looked up.
"On the house," the bartender said. "Good job."
Amy smiled weakly. "Thanks."
She poured out the beer and took a swig. It was nice and cold, just what she needed after all of that.
Being a Domme wasn't as easy as she thought. It looked like all you had to do was boss someone around, but that wasn't quite right, was it? After all, Amy's stupid mistake had almost ruined everything.
It wasn't really about the Domme, was it? She had tried just to do the same sort of things she liked for Rebecca, but that didn't work. No, she had to watch her, react to her emotions, and adjust her plans. Amy took another swing. Whew, it was exhausting!
Condensation formed on the glass, and Amy drew doodles in it. Her mind drifted to J and all the sessions that they had together. Was that what it was like for him? Was he trying the whole time to please her?
Amy grimaced. She hadn't been exactly the most cooperative. She dropped her head and hid behind her hair. Was that what J was trying to show her?
The bartender put another drink in front of Amy.
"Sorry, I didn't order any-"
"A gift," the bartender said. He pointed to her right. "From the boss."
Amy looked over her shoulder, and there he was. J pulled up a seat next to her.
"Learn anything?" he asked with a grin.
Amy avoided his gaze. "Yeah, maybe you could say that."
J had a glass of whiskey in his hand. The huge sphere of ice clinked against the glass as he took a sip.
"Sometimes," he said, "we need to fail in order to appreciate how hard it is to do something right."
Amy didn't know how to respond. Thankfully, she didn't need to, because J finished his drink and stood up before she could think of something.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he walked away. "Be prepared to put on a show."
Chapter 20
The sun rose early the next morning, just like always. Amy woke up to the sound of her alarm, ignored it, and threw her phone until it stopped buzzing, just like always. She brushed her teeth. Got dressed. Did her hair. Just like always.
But was it? This was the last day of their arrangement. Amy almost couldn't believe it. Her movement slowed as she thought about all the things she had been through in the past couple of days. Who would have thought this is how it would all end?
Amy laughed to herself. She had expected to be excited, dancing around the room with anticipation. This was the day she had waited for, after all. But instead, Amy wished that things could go a little slower. She wasn't quite ready to let go of this strange experiment.
Be prepared to put on a show.
A ball of tension tangled itself up in Amy's stomach. A show? He must have meant that they were doing a scene. What did he have in mind for her this time? Amy pushed the thought out of her head.
She finished her cup of coffee and walked towards the front door. Before she touched the doorknob, Amy hesitated. He told her to be early and come to his office. What for? Amy shook her head. It probably wasn't anything to worry about.
With that, she walked outside and hopped in her car.
***
When Amy arrived, there was no one there. No crowds, no Mr. Farrow, not even a valet to lead her inside. So empty, the mansion seemed creepier than normal. Each of Amy's steps reverberated, echoing in the stillness.
Even without any help, Amy was able to make it to J's office. She stood in front of the doors before she opened them, giving herself just one more chance to gain some confidence. Amy took a deep breath and then pressed the doors open.
J was alone inside. He appeared not to notice her, so Amy stood awkwardly by the door. There were papers strewn all over his desk, and he focused on them with his eyebrows furrowed.
Amy stepped back towards the door. Was she supposed to be here? Had she made a mistake? She was a
lmost about to leave when J suddenly stood up and came in front of her.
All this time, J hadn't spoken a word, and he still kept silent. Instead of talking, he just pulled Amy in the direction of the couch. That's when she realized that there were several pieces of clothes laying on the cushions.
Piece by piece, J pulled off Amy's clothes. He folded them and placed them on the couch gently. Then it was time for her new outfit. The things were so thin, light, and ethereal, Amy felt like they might break just by touching them.
Each piece was white. The first part was a lacy bra. J pulled it on to Amy's shoulders, positioning it so it just barely covered her nipples. She felt like It would overflow with just one wrong move. He tied it in the back, Turning the silk straps into a large bow.
Next came the skirt. Amy was excited at the prospect of extra coverage, but as J pulled the skirt over her hips, she knew that wasn't going to happen. It sat high at her waist, just barely long enough to skim the top of her thighs when she was standing. If she was looking for modesty, this wasn't going to help.
Finally, there were a few strings of fabric that Amy was almost certain should have been an anklet. Instead, it turned out to be the skimpiest thong she had ever seen. The center piece was a string of pearls. It slid between Amy's legs as J pulled the thong onto her hips.
What was even the point of a design like that? It only took Amy a few moments to find out. The beads rubbed against her as she moved, making it a little difficult to concentrate on what was happening.
The last part of the outfit was a new collar. It looked very similar to the old one, but there was one key difference. The little metal plate in the front had a different engraving. Instead of, "Property of Master J," it simply said, "His."
By now, Amy wasn't sure what to think. When she saw herself in the mirror, She looked like a bride on her wedding night. With that, the new collar, and their awkward silence, it felt like a million mixed messages were being sent her way.
The whole time, they had been moving around one another like they were doing some kind of strange, silent dance. Amy felt like a sleepwalker. Things would make more sense if this was a dream. If this was a dream, she would fall into his arms and…
"Looks good," J said.
He startled Amy out of her thoughts. No, this definitely wasn't a dream.
"What do you think?" J asked.
Amy knew what he meant. He meant, what did she think about the clothes. But after all that silence, Amy didn't care about them. There is just one thing, one thing she cared about.
"I'll ask you one more time," Amy said deliberately. She spoke slowly so that there was no way she could be misunderstood. "What are we?"
Amy locked eyes with J, daring him to dodge the question. She was tired of waiting. She wanted an answer, a real one. And she wanted it today.
"It's time !"
A valet appeared from behind the door. Looking at the two of them, he seemed to realize he had barged into a strange situation. The next time he spoke, his voice was not so excited.
"Ah…they're waiting for you," he said and shut the door.
J moved to leave, but Amy grabbed his wrist.
"Don't you have anything to say to me?" she asked.
He looked back over his shoulder.
"We should get going," he said.
Amy dropped J's wrist and he walked out the door. He was already several feet away before she decided to follow after him.
As they walked through the crowd, the people split, making way as if they were royalty. Any other time, Amy would have been happy. But now, she only focused on one thing. Let's get this over with, she thought.
Once they got on the stage, Amy tried not to show her feelings. She smiled as she climbed onto the strange chair. What did it matter what she really felt? She was here to put on a show, and that was what she was going to do.
Still, it was hard to hold back everything. The crowd around the stage was huge, bigger than Amy'd ever seen at The Sanctuary. Had people come just to see this?
Even as she tried to stay calm, Amy's whole body shook. She could feel every muscle grow tight with tension, and her face flushed hot. If that was how she felt now, how would she feel when things actually started happening?
J adjusted the chair so that Amy's legs spread wide apart. The only thing obscuring the crowd's view of her was a thin string of pearls. Amy closed her eyes tight and tried to breathe. Then there were hands on her shoulders. J was holding her from behind.
"Be calm," he said.
Easy for him to say. Amy ignored him, her body still shaking. J increased the press on her shoulders, squeezing until he pressed deep into her muscles.
"Be calm," he said again. "Trust me, I'll get you through this. Pretend that we're alone."
It shouldn't have worked. With all the people around them, partying and making noise, it was almost impossible to imagine that they were alone. But the way J touched Amy made her relax. She fell backwards against him.
"Ready?" J asked. His lips grazed her ears, sending tingles down her spine.
Amy nodded.
"Good girl."
By the time Amy opened her eyes again, J was in front of her. He blocked out the crowd, his tall figure filling her view. He held a large flogger, bigger than she had ever seen him use. The heaviness of it rested in his hands, and Amy was both excited and anxious about what J would do with it.
He came closer to her and lifted the flogger. She expected a smack, but instead the thick leather draped itself over her skin. J let the flogger trail over her, the straps dragging along as he pulled it. It felt like he had a million fingers, each touching Amy's body at once. She relaxed under the feeling.
J moved the flogger slowly, touching each part of Amy's body. The leather snaked over her arms, around her waist, even between her legs. Once J reached her toes, Amy was so relaxed that she felt like she was in a trance. It was almost like a strange, sensual, massage.
So when J pulled her neck to the side and bit into the skin there, it was a surprise. She jerked in the chair, coming out of her dreamlike state.
"Don't go to sleep on me," J whispered. "We still have a long way to go."
The area where he had bitten was tender. J kissed the spot gently before standing in front of Amy again. He picked up the large flogger and raised it into the air. Then J brought it down on Amy's ass. She gasped. The heaviness of it hit first, like a dull thud. That's what made Amy lose her breath. Then, after the heaviness came the smack of the leather straps against her skin. They stung, biting at her. Amy tried to move, but she was strapped in so tight that she couldn't budge.
Gradually, J moved all over Amy's body. The bundle of leather rose and fell through the air, landing on her skin. By the fifth strike, Amy wasn't sure why exactly moans seeped from between her lips. Was it pleasure? Was it pain?
Her skin tingled. Amy couldn't see herself, but she was certain that she must have been bright pink everywhere the flogger hit. The leather straps left her skin sensitive, so sensitive that even the air passing over her skin felt like a caress.
She was lost in the sensations. The smell of the leather. The weight of it. Its texture.
Amy wanted more. To feel more things. Hear them. Taste them. She was warm and loose, waiting impatiently for the next step.
J dropped the flogger, letting it go over to the side of the stage. He came close to Amy and ran his fingers over her stomach. Impulsively, she clenched the muscles there. It was almost like a tickle, but after the flogger it felt like much more. Somehow, it felt like a dare. Maybe a taunt. As if J was saying, "Look at what I can make you feel." Or maybe more specifically, "Look at what only I can make you feel."
When J's hands moved up in Amy's neck, his lips came close to her ear. He trailed his fingers along the sensitive skin as he pulled her head to the side.
"Do you remember this?" he asked.
He didn't wait for a response. J kept trailing his fingers all over Amy's body. He circled her breasts,
squeezing her nipples until they were hard under his touch. J rubbed them until he was biting her lip and curling her toes.
As he continued, Amy wondered about this question. What was there to remember? Was she missing something? It was hard to concentrate with all the sensations coming from her body.
J grabbed Amy's ass in both hands, squeezing before he moved down to her thighs. When he casually circled around her inner thighs, acting as if they didn't both know how desperately she wanted him to touch her, Amy remembered.
It was the first time. That day in his office. That day that J had shown her that he didn't need any ropes to restrict her. No, Amy was already willing.
That night, Amy was strapped into a chair with stirrups and movable arms. She couldn't move. She felt more bound than she had ever been. But did he need it? No. Even now, in front of the entire club, Amy knew that she wouldn't move a muscle if J didn't want her to.
His fingers continued to avoid their target. Each time, J came achingly close and then backed away. Amy found herself holding her breath, willing and wishing for it to happen. She arched her back, spreading her legs even wider.
Then J whispered to Amy again. "Do you remember?"
"I do," she replied.
"Good," he said.
With that, the wait was over. J plunged his fingers deep into Amy. She shuddered, her mouth hung open and she groaned. It might have been her imagination, but Amy thought she heard J sigh with satisfaction as he slipped into her.
Everything seemed to melt away. The hot lights pointed at the stage, the sound of the crowd watching them, it all disappeared. There was only one thing left for Amy. And that was J.
He moved his fingers slowly at first, but soon he picked up the pace. It was almost as if he was impatient, but that was okay. Amy was just as impatient. She was waiting for something to happen, even if she wasn't sure what it was yet.
With each stroke, J was winding a coil of pleasure inside Amy's body. It tightened, growing taut until Amy was certain that any moment it would snap and she would collapse into his arms. But he wouldn't let that happen just yet.
