Subordination: Chronicles of a Domme

by Katie Ashley

  “Go ahead and put on the condom.”

  After William sheathed his erection, I widened my thighs and brought my hand between them. I began to stroke myself as I watched William. At the sight of me touching myself, he groaned. In a strained voice, he uttered, “You’re killing me, Mistress.”

  “You wish this was your hand touching me?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Then touch me.”

  With a growl, William’s hand once again abandoned his cock. He flipped over onto his side before bringing his hand between my legs. He immediately thrust two fingers deep inside me, causing me to gasp. As he began to pump his fingers in and out of me, he brought his lips to mine. His tongue began to mimic his fingers. It wasn’t long before I began to go over the edge. My walls clenched around his fingers as I cried out and gripped his shoulders.

  William removed his fingers. When he started to climb on top of me, I stopped him. “So eager,” I mused. “I want you to take me from behind.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Shifting in the bed, I got on all fours. I swayed my ass provocatively at William. “Get inside me. Now.”

  He didn’t respond to me vocally. Instead, he slammed into me, his thighs smacking against mine.

  “Pull my hair,” I commanded hoarsely.

  He grabbed a handful of strands and wrapped them around his fingers. He then jerked my head back as hard as his cock drilled me. I was already a little sore from last night, but I knew after this, I would be remembering William the rest of the day. Hell, the rest of the week. I gripped the sheets between my fingers, pushing my hips back against his. We both grunted like animals as we sought release.

  William reached between us to squeeze my clit, and it was my undoing. I buried my face in the mattress and screamed through my orgasm. William followed shortly after me, collapsing onto my back. “I’m sorry I came without permission,” he murmured against my skin.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t tell you had to wait. I’m sure all of this is confusing as hell to you when you’re used to a D/s relationship.”

  He kissed along my spine. “I’m enjoying it, Mistress.”

  “Me, too.” Glancing at him over my shoulder, I said, “I think we both could use a shower, don’t you think?”

  “I agree.”

  When William eased out of me, I winced. “Are you okay, Mistress?” he asked.

  “It’s all your giant cock’s fault.”

  He laughed. “I’m sorry.”

  Facing him, I smiled. “Nothing to apologize for. You ravaged your Mistress’s pussy just like she wanted.”

  After rising out of the bed, William reached out for my hand. The sweetness of the gesture shot straight to my heart. Having someone always putting you and your needs first was the only thing very appealing to me about a D/s relationship. It was the average behavior of a gentleman, but they were so hard to come by these days.

  After testing the water, William motioned for me to get in. I moaned when the hot spray scorched against my skin. “Too hot?” William asked as he got in behind me.

  “Just right.”

  “Good.” He grabbed the bottle of his body wash and squirted some onto his fingers. “If you don’t mind smelling like a man, I can wash you.”

  I laughed. “I like the way you smell.”

  After switching places with me, William began to lather me up, starting with my breasts. He massaged them in his hands while his thumbs flicked over my hardening nipples. Once he felt like they were clean enough, he began to wash my abdomen. My breath hitched when a soapy hand went between my thighs. “Are you trying to start something up?”

  “Maybe.” He dipped his head to kiss me. “Want me to finish it by finishing you?”

  Never one to say no to an orgasm, I replied, “Yes.”

  William’s masterful fingers began to work their magic on my pussy. I leaned back against the shower stall and widened my legs. My thrust in time with his plunging fingers. Closing my eyes, I gripped his shoulders as I started to go over the edge. “William!” I cried.

  “I love hearing my name on your lips when you come,” he murmured into my ear.

  Trying to avoid the sentimentality of the moment, I slid down the shower stall and onto my knees. I took his half-mast cock into my hands. A few pumps through my slick hands brought it to life. I swirled my tongue around the head before sucking him deep into my mouth. And I thrust him in and out, alternating between fast and slow strokes for a few minutes.

  “I’m going to come, Mistress,” he panted.

  Ignoring his warning, I kept on bobbing my head up and down on his cock. I didn’t care if he came in my mouth—I knew the club had strict rules about STD testing. Members had to undergo on site testing every three months to ensure they were safe for play.

  “Mistress?” he questioned, giving me one last chance to pull away.

  “Come,” I murmured around the head of his shaft.

  With a grunt of pleasure, he came hard, his warmth spurting onto my tongue and filling my mouth. When he was finished, I rose off my knees. Wrapping his hands on both sides of my neck, he kissed me deeply. He pulled away and smiled. “Thank you, Mistress.”

  I knew in sub world I had done something pretty special by allowing him to come in my mouth. I had no regrets. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get out of here before we both turn into prunes.”

  William laughed as he opened the shower door. He grabbed one of the large towels and began to dry me. Once again, I found myself enjoying the whole being cared for and being put first aspect of a D/s relationship. Or maybe it was just because it was William.

  He suddenly stilled in drying me off. His expression became so serious it was almost forlorn. “What happens now?” he questioned.

  “Well, we get dressed and get out of here before check-out time.”

  He pinched my ass. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “And that’s not proper sub behavior.”

  “Then promise to punish me. Next time.”

  I shook my head. “You know I’m not working at the club anymore.”

  “You don’t have to punish me at the club. You can punish me at any hotel chain you prefer. And if my grandparents aren’t in town, you can spank me all over the penthouse.” When I opened my mouth to protest about Atlanta being too far away, he pressed his finger against my lips. “I’ll come to you—regardless the distance.” He rubbed his thumb tenderly across my cheekbone. “I don’t want just to be with you sexually again, Sophie. I want to see where this could go long term.”

  “Are we really having a relationship conversation when we’re buck naked?”

  “Considering the way we met, it makes sense,” William replied, with a small smile.

  “This is impossible—we’re impossible. You want a D/s relationship, and I don’t. I think that it’s pretty evident we’re at an impasse. The whole Robert Frost ‘two roads diverged in a wood’ thing except I have to go one way, and you the other.”

  “And why?”

  “Because I’m not a Domme.”

  “You were pretty fucking good last night and this morning.”

  “While I might’ve liked playing at being your Domme, I know I could never do it full-time—in or out of the bedroom. When I’m in the club, I can stay in the persona, but I slip too much when I’m with you. I know it’s just not who I am.” When he started to protest, I shook my head. I placed my hand on his cheek. “Even in the short time we’ve had together, I’ve come to care for you. Because of that, I want what is best for you and what will make you happy. You deserve someone whose heart and soul goes into being a Mistress.”

  “Relationships are always about give and take. Why can’t we try that in the bedroom?”

  “What about all the other D/s stuff?”

  “You really have an aversion to me putting your needs above mine?”

  “It’s nice how thoughtful you are, but I could never bear to think you were doing something you hated just because I
told you to do it.”

  He paused for a moment, surveying my words. “Sometimes that’s what love is—doing something you don’t necessarily want to do to make the person you love happy. It’s that whole give and take thing again. It’s going to the ballet when you hate it or enduring family dinners when you can’t stand the people there.”

  I knew what William was saying was true. He was also using the word ‘love’ to try and provoke a reaction out of me. And although I racked my brain, I couldn’t come up with one good reason to say no to at least trying things out with him. Holding my hands up in defeat, I said, “Okay, okay, I guess we can meet up again next weekend.”

  William’s eyes flashed with pleasure. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  He crushed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, he grinned. “Let me show you how very happy you make me.”

  “What about checkout time?” I asked, as William led me into the bedroom.

  “Fuck checkout time. I want to fuck you.”

  “Mmm, how very forceful of you,” I mused.

  “I have caveman moments just like any other guy.”

  “Is that right?”

  The next thing I knew, he’d bent over and thrown me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to my bed.”

  “That’s the Ritz’s bed.”

  William’s chuckle rumbled through me. “I think you’re trying to sabotage me playing the alpha man, Mistress.”

  “I am not. I was just making a statement.” When he tossed me unceremoniously onto the mattress, I growled. “I think I’m going to have to punish you for that.”

  He grinned. “I look forward to that, Mistress.”

  “But first. I want your mouth here.” I widened my legs and pointed to my pussy. “I expect you to make me come at least twice before I will even think about doing anything for you.”

  A devilish look flashed in William’s eyes as the mattress dipped under his weight. “Yes, Mistress.”

  After I got home from being with William, I went straight to bed and crashed at seven o’clock. I slept straight through the night and only woke up to my phone ringing. “H-hello?”

  “Dude, are you still asleep?” my brother, Ansel, demanded.

  Rubbing my eyes, I mumbled, “Maybe. Why?”

  “Because it’s almost noon, dumbass.”

  “What?!” I jerked the phone back to look at the time. It was just like my dear little brother to yank my chain. When I saw it was indeed noon, I groaned. “I forgot to set my alarm.”

  “Epic fail, sis.”

  I eyed Oakley who was stretched out next to me. “Oh, so today of all days you decide we can sleep in?” I mumbled. Her only response was a yawn. “How far away are you?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  Fuuuuuuuck. “I’ll be ready.”

  Ansel snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Love ya, bitch.”

  I laughed. “Love you too, you little shit.”

  After ending the call, I flung off the covers and hurried over to the coffee pot. It was one of the only kitchen appliances I hadn’t packed. I flipped it on, and then rushed back to throw on some clothes. Ansel was bringing some of his football buddies to help me move. We were getting a late start because they had to wait until after their morning football practice. This was his last free week of summer break before Ansel started his senior year.

  Once I was dressed and a cup of coffee was ingested, I felt ready to face the world…and my brother. Gazing around the room, there wasn’t much left to pack. The furniture belonged to Lola, except for the rocking chair and ottoman that had been Grand-maman’s.

  At the banging on the door loud enough to wake the dead, I started to hurry across the room when my ankle protested loudly. “Shit,” I muttered, as I hobbled for a moment with Oakley barking behind me like she was a Doberman, not a dachshund. My six-foot-three baby brother stood before me, flanked by two of his buddies. “Hey, guys.”

  “Hiya, Soph,” Ansel replied with a grin. He grabbed me into a sweaty bear hug.

  I squealed and tried pushing out of his arms. “Ugh, you’re disgusting.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry we didn’t take the time to shower. We kinda wanted to get here to get this shit done.”

  “How sweet of you.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  When he let go of me, I reached up to pinch his cheek—it was something Grand-maman had always done to us. Like me, Ansel had been given a French name in honor of Grand-maman. He was actually Michael Ansel Jameson Jr, but he had been dubbed “Ansel” so things wouldn’t get confusing with my dad.

  Ansel was an exact replica of my father from the sandy-blond hair to the cornflower-blue eyes. It was a blessing in disguise that he looked nothing like his mother—a slutbag who had ditched my father when Ansel was three. After a few years of coming around to see Ansel at Christmas, we hadn’t heard anything from my stepmother in ten years. She never much cared for me, and the feeling was mutual. Even at seven years old, I had been guarded and suspicious of people’s intentions. In this case, I had been right.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  He huffed and rolled his eyes exasperatedly as only teenagers can do. “Jesus, Soph, you just saw me last weekend.”

  This time I pinched his cheek harder. “Don’t use that word.”

  “You sound just like Grand-maman.” He turned to his friends with a grin. “My grandmother could cuss like a sailor, but you never, ever said Jesus Christ or God damn around her.”

  “If you did, she’d cross herself before smacking you,” I mused.

  “Must be nice. My grandmother would have another stroke if I cussed around her,” Jody, a hefty redhead with freckle-splattered skin, said.

  I smiled. “It’s going to be a real struggle managing not to cuss once I’m in the classroom.”

  “Any chance we’ll have you for Brit Lit?” Jason asked.

  I shook my head. “I’ve got all juniors.”

  His brows turned down over his caramel-colored skin. “Bummer.”

  “Actually, I requested not to have any seniors. I thought it was too much of a conflict of interest to be teaching Ansel’s friends.”

  Ansel clapped his hands together. “All right. Enough talking. We need to get this show on the road.”

  “Yes, slave driver,” I said, before pinching his cheek again.

  While the boys worked at loading Jody’s truck, I packed up the last boxes. With three strong, able-bodied young men, the process moved pretty quickly. Lola came down at one, insisting we come up for a farewell lunch. Even at eighty-five, she was an amazing cook.

  With our stomachs pleasantly full, we loaded the last box. I was just about to hop into my car when my phone dinged in my pocket.

  Good afternoon. I wanted to wish you a good morning, but I was afraid I might look too much like a stalker.

  I grinned as I texted him back. Good afternoon to you, too, my little sub-the-stalker.

  I know I’m not supposed to argue with my Mistress, but I thought we established there is nothing “little” about me.

  Trust me, I remember your size each time I take a step.

  I’m glad you’re thinking of me. I haven’t stopped thinking of you since you left.

  Now that does sound stalkery.

  Smart-ass. Anyway, at work and need to go. Just wanted to say hello.

  I’m glad you did.

  With my car door open, I was still staring at my phone when Ansel asked, “What’s the goofy grin about?”

  “Nothing.”

  His eyes suddenly lit up. “You’re texting with a man, aren’t you?”

  After shoving my phone back in my pocket, I replied, “No comment.”

  He clapped his hands together and laughed. “Oh, it is so a man. I thought you smelled like a dude when I hugged you.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I said, “That’s disgusting.”

  He snorted. �
�I meant, like a dude’s cologne, you pervert. But if you’ve got a man’s smell on you, then that means you’ve been doing the dirty.”

  Jody and Jason stood by the truck and snickered behind us. I whirled around to shoot them a death glare.

  “Who is he?” Ansel asked.

  “Would you shut up and get in the car?”

  “It’s a long ride home, big sis. I’m gonna need some details.”

  The last thing in the world I was going to do was tell Ansel anything. Of course, even if I wanted to talk about William, I would have to fabricate most of the story. It wasn’t like I could say, Yeah, I met him at BDSM club where I tied him up and spanked him until he came. Romantic, huh?

  Giving Ansel a sickeningly sweet smile, I said, “Either you drop the subject or I tell your friends some really embarrassing stories about you.”

  “Like what?”

  “How about Bubby to start with?”

  Ansel’s blue eyes widened at the thought of me telling his besties about how he slept with his stuffed rabbit until he was fifteen. “You wouldn’t,” he hissed.

  “Oh, yeah, I would.”

  “Fine. Keep your secret man shit to yourself.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  The drive from Atlanta to usually took an hour, but my lead foot made it in fifty minutes. That was even counting making a stop for Oakley to pee. It was a trip I could make blindfolded since I was so used to making it on Saturday mornings. While Ansel texted madly on his phone, I worked on lesson plans in my head.

  We lived off the main highway down a long, winding driveway surrounded by fenced-in pastureland. My dad and mom had built the house when they got married. It was a two-story Cape Cod Farmhouse design with a wraparound front porch. The twenty-five acres had been a wedding gift from Grandpa and Grand-maman. They had divided the acres they’d owned between my dad and his brother, Mark. My uncle, who was a theater major, had no desire for country life, so he’d sold his land to my dad before he moved to New York.