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When Bethany reads her Master’s note, she expects it to contain the usual set of instructions telling her how to prepare for their Friday evening play session. But her Master asks for the unexpected—he wants her to be his Domme. Bethany is terrified at the prospect, but she doesn’t want to disappoint Master. She’ll need to tap into her inner dominatrix if she’s to give her newly submissive lover what he needs.
I stood by the bedside table, where Master had left his instructions on a piece of red paper he’d transformed into an origami swan. Beautiful. A shame to unfold it, really. Every Friday night, he left me prep work for the scene he wanted to act out when he returned from the office.
Sometimes he made simple requests, asking me to answer the door dressed only in my leather collar and crotchless panties, and then kneel at his feet after he entered. Or he gave me more detailed instructions, where I had to cook a three-course meal, light candles, make up the bed in satin sheets and lay out the various crops and floggers in a straight line on the mahogany desk by the window. Master loved scenarios involving costume play, especially when I wore my corseted Victorian gown, and he tied me to the bed, ravishing me while I begged to be set free. Other times I draped myself in filmy veils and posed as a harem girl, shimmying my hips in an improvised belly dance. When I finished removing the veils, dropping them one by one at his feet, he played the sultan and demanded sexual favors.
I held the paper swan to my nose, inhaling its scent. His scent. I caught the faint hint of musky cologne, Fetiche, which I bought for his birthday. One fold at a time, I straightened the paper, tingling in anticipation. What did he desire this evening? Bondage? Spanking? A session with the flogger that ended in a frenzy of fucking? Warmth spread through my pussy as multiple possibilities spun inside my mind. Closing my eyes, I pressed the paper against my lips.
When Master wrote his notes, the pen left indentations in the paper. The precisely looped Ds and bold Ys reflected his assertive personality.
Tonight, your task is to be my Domme. Do what you like with me.
Your humble servant,
What? Domme him? I didn’t have a clue how to be a Domme. I’d always been his submissive. We’d been together five years and for that entire time, I’d acted as his willing servant, surrendering to him, pleasing him. The roles suited us to perfection. My previous relationships were the same. I’d always been with a Dom, and never, ever considered any other role for myself. Being a sub fulfilled me.
I read the note a second time. He signed it Dylan, his real name. All the other messages had been signed Master.
What do I do? What do I do?
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