In my defense, the woman said treat us like goddesses, and that’s the fastest way to get me to agree to anything… especially if it includes men acting submissive in my general vicinity.
I’m very happy in my relationship, thank you very much. Ian and I have come a long way since we first hooked up in his family’s offices after too much work and too much wine. We’ve come even longer once we both opened up to our more submissive sides. Since we went to Paris earlier this year, Ian has come around to seeing me as the goddess I am. (Dare I say he’s begun appealing to my inner goddess?) We’ve shared quite a few nights as Dom and sub, and it isn’t always in the direction you might think.
At the end of the day, my soulmate isn’t as capable of submission as he is domination, and while that’s okay, a Domme like me yearns for the companionship of men who do fill that role better.
Now, I’m not saying I want to sleep with any of these men, but there’s a reason I still go to gatherings with my Domme girlfriends that often include shows and demonstrations centering on men groveling for punishment and begging for a woman to offer them a few harsh words. Watching them get harder every time some badass in boots gets her way is the deliciously naughty cherry on that sex sundae. I don’t often get that at home, and Ian and I have an understanding that I’m free to look all I want when I go out.
These men aren’t going to lower themselves to that level of depravity for an extra buck, although once some of them see the look in my eyes, I know that they, too, know. I’m in charge when it comes to sex and love.
Most of the men here could probably swing either way on the domination and submission scale. They’ll give a client whatever she wants. Then you get the guys who get hard once they realize who is in the same room as them.
It’s a power trip. I’m not gonna lie.
However, I’m not in the right company to strut my stuff. Fujiko wants to get nasty with anyone cute enough to tickle her. Junri would rather go home to her own lover, but she’ll power through the night for the sake of her family’s business dealings. She’ll do it without once complaining, too.
“Can you bring me another one?” I ask the nearest guy, who has been respectfully eyeballing me for the past fifteen minutes. Which is exactly how long he’s been in this room. I told you, some guys feed off a dominant’s energy. He ain’t even hiding his erection, and none of the other guys dare to chide him. “Thanks.” I wink at him. Now that I feel absolutely no pressure from either the men or the party to participate in adultery, I am 100% more confident in exuding the real Kathryn that emerges when she has enough to drink.
He gingerly grips my glass so he never once touches my skin. Good boy.
Fujiko catches my gaze lingering on the submissive man’s ass as he scurries away to get me a fresh drink. “So what I hear about you is true?”
I cock an eyebrow. “What have you heard about me?” I can tell you what I’ve heard about Ms. Isoya, but it would be far from polite.
“Let’s say that you and Mr. Mathers have a reputation in certain circles around here.”
Junri shifts in her seat between us. She has been nothing but cautiously polite with everyone bringing and taking away drinks. For the most part, she’s spent this evening staring at the table, fingers itching to text someone – but she doesn’t dare at something that is technically a business function.
“Our reputation precedes us wherever we go.”
“That’s not always a problem.”
I hook my finger without looking at the men behind me. One steps forward. He’s either the most eager one out of the bunch, or the most obedient. Rarely do you find a man who is both, and I don’t hold my breath that this guy is the golden fish in the pond. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“So,” Fujiko continues, suddenly sober. “Tell me more about Mr. Mathers. He’s a handsome man, yes?”
For the first time all night, her niece shows disbelief on her face. “You shouldn’t ask such questions, Auntie.”
“Oh, shush. We’re all girls here! What’s the point of being surrounded by handsome men and getting drunk if we’re not having some woman talk?”
I glance at the golden band on my right hand. Some days, when I’m feeling brave enough to face the questions and speculation in the tabloids, I’ll flip it over to my left hand. I need to get used to it if I’m marrying him one day.
One day.
“What is there to say about him? He’s my boyfriend.”
“Ahh, too bad. If he were available, I’d tell my niece to go on a date with him. For me.”