Hanging On

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The soft cotton sheet pressed warm against her bare stomach and breasts, moving to let in the chill as a hot, questing hand slid over her thigh.

Sophia cracked one eye open, aiming it at the alarm clock across the room.

In a half hour, she had to be in the shower. Christopher was well trained enough to know this. Even five minutes later, and she would have slapped his hand away, chastising him for being so naughty.

She would still punish him for touching without permission, but they would both enjoy the process. Last night had been good, but she had to work both jobs today. Sophia didn’t have the energy to waste if she wasn’t going to get a reward.

Rolling to give his roaming hand more access, she drew him closer for a long, hard kiss. He had generous lips that sucked her in whether she wanted to be sucked in or not. They felt wonderful on her clit. Breaking the kiss, she pushed him down. He trailed his hot mouth over her breasts and abdomen, a grin stretching those luscious lips.

She resisted the urge to sigh in relief. Sometimes subs were so difficult to read, and she absolutely
hated
when she messed up their punishment or reward. Chris had been superb last night, and she had been exceptionally good to him.

Sophia tilted her head to watch him settle in. His cheeks, still smooth though he hadn’t shaved today, rubbed against her sensitive inner thighs.

8

She loved the way his milk chocolate skin contrasted with her own deeply tan Mediterranean complexion. He parted her with practiced ease, his tongue darting out to tease before he got serious.

He wasn’t very gentle. He knew full well what she liked and how she liked it. When she had taken him as an occasional playmate over a year ago, she had trained him first thing. He may have been angling for a punishment, but she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted, not then. Soon, unhurried waves lapped through her, and he made his way up her body, begging with kisses and with soft brown eyes.

Without a word, Sophia reached into the box on the nightstand and ripped open a condom. “Slow,” she warned.

He shuddered in anticipation and knelt up. The sheet fell to the foot of the bed. Reaching down, she unrolled the sheath over his thick cock and pulled it to her entrance. Trailing her fingers lightly downward, she found a fresh welt on his inner thigh and grazed her nail over it. The caress was feathery, but pressure was unnecessary.

He moaned, long and low. “Mistress,” he breathed. “Oh God, yes.” When he moved, it was too fast. Sophia swallowed a grimace of pain and reached for her riding crop, which lay next to the package of condoms on the nightstand. This kind of pain might be required to drive him over the edge, but it did nothing for her.

Bringing it down sharply on the back of his thigh, she purred a warning.

“Christopher, darling,
slow
.”

He shuddered with pleasure and adjusted his pace. “Yes, Mistress.” Christopher’s length was average, but he moved well, and he took direction with a natural enthusiasm. He was one of her best finds. Unlike many dominatrixes, she didn’t keep a stable of submissives. It was too much like a relationship, which meant far too much responsibility on her part.

Subs were needy. Sophia’s came and went.

Being in charge of someone’s pleasure was a job she didn’t take lightly.

She liked freedom. Submissives who enjoyed her command were free to enjoy themselves with anyone they wanted. She encouraged them to play the field, and she made no secret about the fact the scenes they played were in no way indicative of a romantic relationship.

Pressure built inside her, slow and steady, until she climaxed. Opening her eyes, Sophia watched Christopher struggle to maintain the slow, gentle

9

pace she commanded. He would neither stop nor come until she gave permission.

“Faster,” she commanded, drawing diagonal lines across his ass with the crop.

He twitched and moaned. “Yes, Mistress, oh, yes!” It was a rather light punishment, but she needed to be careful not to overdo it. She had left his back, ass, and thighs a mass of welts the night before. Though the worst of the damage always disappeared by the morning, he would still be sensitive.

By design, it wasn’t enough. He built upon the waves of her orgasm, driving her higher. She brought the whip down sharply across his thigh and ass, giving him a little more of what she knew he needed.

He cried out, and she swung again, the thin stick whistling through the air. He once told her it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard during sex.

Frantic, he begged, “Please, Mistress, can I come?” She waited until his whispered plea turned to a sob, reveling in the power she had over him and ignoring the power he had over her. Sophia gave him what he wanted: pain, punishment, and orgasm. He gave her what she wanted: control. Squeezing his ass tightly in her hands, she granted permission. They came together.

Later, as they scurried around getting ready for work, Sophia heard the distinct sounds of swearing coming from under her bed. Normally, she didn’t let a partner stay the night after a scene. She didn’t even let them upstairs, directing them to a specially outfitted room in the basement that she kept for acting out various scenarios. Christopher understood that staying the night didn’t mean anything more than friendship, so she didn’t mind waking up next to him. She didn’t love it, either. Morning was her time to recharge and load up on caffeine, and she preferred to do it in solitude.

Kneeling carefully in the very professional-looking business skirt that was the costume for her daytime persona, she peered at him from beneath the other side of her mattress. “Problems?” His face was twisted with aggravation, which Sophia found startling. He was usually unflappable after a night with her. His eyes met hers across the shadowed space. “I can’t find my tie.”

10

Christopher was a successful lawyer. He was handsome and intelligent.

He was the only one of her submissives who knew about her day job. At night, she disciplined clients at a club owned by a friend. Three days a week, she was a corporate accountant. Chris found out by accident, but he kept her secret. Most likely, he didn’t care. That wasn’t the reason he texted her every few weeks.

She straightened to standing. “It’s hanging in the bathroom.” It was silk, and he had asked very nicely if she would refrain from using it as a gag. She hadn’t minded. He looked so much better with a ball gag parting those salacious lips anyway.

He disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. Sophia followed him out but headed to the kitchen. “Can you put on some coffee?” he asked.

The request took her by surprise. She wasn’t against sharing her coffee, but Chris usually left after he showered and dressed. She always assumed he stopped by a swanky coffee chain on his way to work. “Sure,” she threw over her shoulder without pausing.

“Three sugars, no cream.”

The words floated down the hall. Christopher was only a sexual submissive. The rest of the time, he was bossy as all hell. Next time they met, she would punish him for that transgression. Perhaps that’s why he phrased it as an order rather than a request. She wasn’t a pushover outside of the bedroom, but she wasn’t forceful and domineering, either.

His coffee was waiting for him when he made it to the kitchen. Lifting the mug to his face, he inhaled deeply. “God, you make good coffee. I remember the first time we were together, you made me drink coffee and sober up before you took me down to your dungeon.” The combined nostalgia and regret in his voice caught her attention. As a Dom, Sophia was pretty good at discerning the subtleties of speech and moans. “What’s wrong?”

Christopher took a sip, set his mug on the table, and sighed. “I met someone.”

This seized her interest. She loved dominating couples. “Are you going to bring her by?”

He laughed, shaking his head sadly. “I love that hungry look in your eyes, Sophia. I’m going to miss it. She’s not into this kind of thing.”

11

She realized he was ending their relationship. She wasn’t sad about it.

She would miss him, but he was rather easily replaced. She might only be twenty-four, but she was at the top of her game and generally considered hot. Sabrina, one of her best friends and one of her regular patrons, liked to refer to Sophia as exotically beautiful. Sophia didn’t mind, but she did feel self-conscious when Sabrina gushed about her in front of other people.

“Sounds serious,” Sophia said, smiling to let him know she harbored no hard feelings.

He blushed and studied the convection in his coffee. She knew he was thinking of his new girlfriend. “We had our first date three days ago. I can’t get her out of my head, and I know she won’t understand this part of my life.”

Sophia didn’t say anything. This was Christopher’s decision. Personally, she didn’t think it would work out. Chris needed pain in order to orgasm. If this woman didn’t follow through for him, the sex was going to suck. More importantly, this was a major part of who he was. Hiding something this big wasn’t healthy.

She wished him the best of luck and shooed him out the door so she could make it to work on time. Her boss was a jerk. If he ever showed up at the club, he better pray for another dominatrix. Sophia didn’t trust herself to not exact some personal revenge for the shit assignments he shoved her way because she refused to consider full-time work. It didn’t pay as well as being a dominatrix, and it didn’t fulfill the deep-seated need she had to dominate.

But, God, she loved numbers. Figuring out problems that had definite answers gave her a sense of satisfaction she rarely found elsewhere.

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