Chapter 4

Kitty

I sat on a rickety seat in the back of the bus, rested my head against the cold glass, and drifted. Of course, it wasn’t long before I started to ruminate about why I was able to be so present, calm, and happy. 

It started with a simple thought, I had sex. 

Amazing sex.

Mind-blowing… no… mind-altering sex.

I was usually such a disaster in bed. I never quite felt like I knew what I was doing. Which of course made my fumbling and confidence in that arena all the worse. 

But not last night. 

Not at all.

I’d been able to let go. Be completely in the moment. I knew exactly what to do.

I was fisted last night.

Fisted!

I’d never done that before. Nor even contemplated it.

I hugged myself, remembering being in Astrid’s arms after, aching and raw. 

She held me tight and I felt profoundly safe. 

She led me through everything so effortlessly. Even telling me off when I was vague about what I wanted. And then telling me how to lie and how to be. Holding me down when I needed her to… 

So I could let go and…

She had… taken the lead. 

Been so in control. 

And I had been…

“Um…” I sat up wide-eyed.

Was I… dominated?

The thought was absurd.

Was that even the right word? Dominated?

That’s why I knew what to do. 

Why I hadn’t felt stiff and unsure. 

She had been so firm. 

And I loved it. 

No. I’m imagining it. Seeing meaning in something that isn’t there. Just because I met her in a 

BDSM club doesn’t mean that she…

But she had ordered me to turn over, to raise my hips up, to…

No, no, no.

I couldn’t accept the mere proposition of the notion of it. 

Nor how it made me feel. 

That I might have been dominated. 

And that I adored it. 

But I couldn’t think of anything else. 

My turmoil continued from the bus, into our building, and up to the flat. No one seemed to be in as I crossed the messy kitchen, entered my room, and dropped onto the bed. Staring up, I tried to figure what any of it meant.

When no immediate solution emerged from my unevenly painted ceiling, I turned on my side and my eyes fell on the leather collar that still lay on the bedside table.

I remembered how empty it felt to take it off. How I really wanted to put it on again. 

That should make me panic.

But all I wanted was to know more. To talk to Astrid. To see her again. 

Had she meant to do it?

Is she even into that?

She was at the kinky club, so even if she wasn’t into… doing that… then maybe she would understand?

It felt bizarre to be thinking that way. We hadn’t done anything even slightly kinky. We’d fucked. It was unbelievably good. But that was all it was. She hadn’t tied me to anything at all. 

My mind paused at the thought of being tied up. 

No, this is ridiculous.

I stood up and walked purposefully to my desk. I picked up random papers and leafed through them in a pantomime of work. 

My mind whirled. 

Had I enjoyed it because she felt so in charge?

And what about the collar?

I need to do something else.

I left my room for the kitchen, sifted through the dirty tea mugs by the sink and picked one of the less stained ones. I washed it quickly and made tea, failing to avoid distracting thoughts about the night before. 

She would call, she said, in the next couple days.

I was sure that if I focused on work, these thoughts would pass. 

With the tea made, I returned to my room, sat at the desk, and picked up a sheath of notes. 

Yes, I can do this.

Research!

And I tried very hard to do just that. First an attempt to write up the notes I had been working on so well just the day before. When that failed, I tried reading, which was worse. Finally, I attempted collating citations, the most mindless activity of all scholarly endeavours, effectively just listing titles of books referenced. 

But bloody nothing worked. 

What the hell is wrong with me?!

Was I freaked out by what happened?

I closed the lid of my laptop. 

No. I wasn’t freaked out.

But I was buzzing. 

Was it anxiety? Stress?

No. Not really. Or maybe something similar? 

I was certainly tense. My jaw was clenched.

I wanted… 

I wanted to see Astrid. 

”Bugger!”

I wanted to ask her. I needed to ask her. But she said she would ring… 

I couldn’t take this. 

I stood and marched to the phone before I lost my nerve. I dialled quickly and regretted it the second I heard the line ring. 

I was a mess when Astrid picked up. I could barely stammer out replies. I felt sweaty and weird. But then she started to apologise for the previous evening and I wanted to shout, ’no, it had been amazing!’ 

When she offered to meet again the next day, I could have jumped for joy. I still felt sweaty and weird when we hung up, but also elated. 

I floated back into my room. I would see Astrid tomorrow. That was… good. 

And terrifying. 

What would I even say to her? 

’Hi, I think maybe you dominated me the other night when you fisted me, or maybe if you didn’t I kind of don’t know if I kind of maybe want you to…’

I managed to worry about that all through the evening as I tried to write. 

I wandered into the kitchen at intervals, hoping to maybe run into Jane. On the other hand, I had no idea what I would have said if I did, so perhaps it was best she was nowhere to be found. 

Plus, if I did see Jane and told her I was going to see Astrid again, she would insist on dressing me for the occasion. I wasn’t sure I could handle her version of a stroll-in-the-park kind of a dress. An image of ruffles and parasols assailed. 

I crashed into bed still wondering what I was going to say to Astrid or even what it was I wanted to say to her. 

I woke late the next morning and lurched into the kitchen for tea. The flat was still empty as I caffeinated myself and even managed to eat toast. Which was more an act of procrastination than nourishment, because the rest of the morning I continued to bang my head against the work, producing nothing. 

I finally gave up after lunch, which consisted of more toast, and considered briefly what to wear to the park. With little inspiration, I settled on a white t-shirt and blue jeans. I added a short brown jacket as I walked out of the flat, to match the unseasonably warm autumn afternoon. 

Once on the long tube ride, I didn’t have pretending to work nor toasted bread as a distraction for my swirling mind. 

The underground wasn’t as busy on the weekends but there were still plenty of people milling around the exit of Richmond station when I got out. I noticed plenty of tourists, presumably heading to the park and no doubt irritating the wealthy locals trying to enjoy their al fresco afternoon teas. 

“Kitty!” Astrid waved from the other side of the street. 

My musings disappeared and I smiled. I also felt ridiculous for wearing something I could have gone to the corner shop in when I saw how sharp Astrid looked in a fierce black pencil skirt, a white shirt that I could only describe as ‘crisp,’ and a pair of low-heeled shoes. Her make-up was less vibrant than I had seen her wear before, but it still featured eyeliner and rich red lipstick.

She also had her hair in, what I would later learn was called, a ‘messy updo’ - her signature arrangement - but today less mussed than I had seen the previous morning. She looked formal, confident, and completely at ease. It made me feel… It’s hard to put into words. Intimidated? Awed?

I jogged over to her eagerly and stopped for an awkward moment of, ‘how do we greet each other’ arm and hand gestures. She finally stepped forward to kiss me quickly on the lips and then looked uncharacteristically shy.

“Shall we?” she asked as she stepped back.

“Yes, please,” I replied happily. 

She motioned with her head up the street and for a moment I thought she might take my hand. Instead, she started to walk ever so slightly faster than my usual gate and I had to speed up to keep from falling behind. 

We made our way past fancy old buildings which no doubt all had heritage-status and disturbing histories. We asked after each other’s mornings. I was still nervous but keen to endear myself. 

“Do you come here often?” 

She grimaced in return.

“Yes, at least I used to, and I will let that terrible line slide for a second time,” she smiled strangely before looking ahead, “I kind of love it here.”

She looked around with admiring eyes along our route and I realised that her speedy gate might be due to familiarity.

“The park is so peaceful,” she continued, “You can see the whole city from parts of it, can get lost in the trees in others, and of course the deer are beautiful.”

“I haven’t spent much time here.” I admitted.

“Neither have I recently,” she sighed, “Work and family keep me on the other side of town. It’s a long way to travel from my place these days.”

I couldn’t say why I was waiting with the questions I really wanted to ask. Perhaps because it felt somehow safer to broach those topics within the boundaries of the trees. Or maybe I was just chicken.

It was much more likely the latter.

“But I do try to come out here when I can,” Astrid explained as we entered the park proper. 

Astrid had seemed pensive when we met at the tube but that lifted when she looked ahead to the trees. 

“Your family’s in the city?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered with an easy smile, “I mean, my chosen family.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yeah,” she kept her eyes on the approaching tree-line, “My dysfunctional collective of queers. We come from all over but managed to gravitate to the same gaybourhood.”

Astrid looked thoughtful as she continued, “They can be an infuriating bunch, but I’m glad to have them close. It meant a lot when times weren’t… so easy.”

I couldn’t help wondering what those times might have been. I didn’t want to pry though, or bring up anything that could be painful.

“I’d love to meet them sometime.”

“You almost did,” Astrid turned to look at me, “Jen insisted on coming with me to Richmond. She said she had to run an errand here, but I think she wanted to check you out.”

I blushed at the thought of Astrid speaking about me to someone she was close with.

We fell silent again. 

It felt stilted, but I put that down to my nervousness to broach the subject I was aching to ask about. 

We walked into the trees proper. The sound of the city muffled and the rest of the park melted away into the green. 

“So…” I started, “Um… there was something I wanted to ask you… about the other night.”

Astrid sighed, and I worried I had said something wrong. 

“Yes, um… I was meaning to talk to you about that too,” she said guiltily, “I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise?” my concern turned to confusion. 

“Yes, I shouldn’t have… I was… I mean you did say you wanted to… but at the same time, I feel like I…”

She stumbled her words worse than I might have.

“When you told me what to do?” I asked quickly, “I mean, if you’re worried about that, I loved it.”

Astrid stopped dead in the path to look at me. 

I blushed again and tried to recover, “I don’t know what it all meant, or anything, and I didn’t think about it at the time… and that’s kind of great for me really, because I tend to overthink every little thing… including when it comes to sex… but just then I didn’t know what to think, or need to think. I could just feel and it felt… well… amazing.”

Astrid stared at me.

“So… uhh… yeah,” I tried to fill the air, “If you were going to apologise for that… and I’m not sure you were… but if you were, then… well, please don’t.”

“You… loved it?”

I burned, standing in front of her, as if I’d admitted something awfully embarrassing to a teacher or something. 

“Uh… yeah,” I managed to squeak. 

She looked at me again, speechless, before shaking her head and continuing up the path. 

“I’m… I’m really sorry,” I caught up to her. 

She stopped again and looked at me with what I thought might have been a flash of anger? Or confusion? It was hard to say at first.

“Whatever for?”

“I didn’t mean to push, and I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Oh darling, you didn’t,” her expression softened and she stepped forward, a tentative hand reaching for me, “I thought I’d maybe done that to you.”

She shook her head again. 

“It’s just… I haven’t done that in a while… and it kind of just… happened,” she looked at the ground. 

I reached my hand forward to meet hers and she looked up, small and afraid.

“I liked it,” I managed to hold back another apology, “Is it… something you like… to do?”

She looked pained, let go of my hand, and turned to start walking again.

“You mean… be in charge?”

My heart ached. 

“Yes.” 

Astrid’s sensitivity spurred me to be forthright, my fear of seeming absurd overcome by my desire to ease her. 

“I’m… well… I used to be a Dominant,” she continued to stare firmly ahead.

A knot formed in my chest, “What does that mean? If it’s okay to ask?”

“I like my partners to do what I say.”

She spoke so plainly, I was disarmed. 

“That makes sense,” I said, not really sure why it did.

“For some, dominance is a role they like to play,” Astrid seemed sad as she explained, “Or something they enjoy some of the time. For me it was more of an identity thing.”

I was desperate to ask why she was speaking in the past tense.

“An identity thing?” I asked instead. 

“I suppose dominance was part of who I am. I wanted it to be in my whole life, not just in a club.”

Astrid paused.

“Please,” I urged, “Go on.”

Astrid looked at me briefly and then forward again, “I liked the power exchange to be a full part of a relationship, the everyday with someone.”

“How would that work with me?”

Astrid stopped, turned, and looked shocked. 

I had no idea what made me so bold. Or maybe it just slipped out.

“Well…” she measured her words carefully, “We haven’t agreed to anything, so it wouldn’t.”

I was overcome with the awful feeling I had said something terribly rude mixed with a painful wrench of disappointment.

“Unless you want to?” 

Astrid’s question knocked the wind out of me. 

I opened my mouth, trying to speak, and searched Astrid’s face for any kind of guidance. She was completely placid. 

“I… think maybe,” I heard myself saying, “I would like to. Yes”

Astrid stood silent. I couldn’t tell if she was appraising, judging, or considering?

“I mean if you wouldn’t mind?” I mumbled, unable to meet her eyes and lowering mine to look to the ground. 

“I mean, I have no idea,” I muttered on, “I’m not experienced.” 

I couldn’t imagine where all that had come from. My chest ached, my hands were sweaty, and I was flush from head to toe. 

For an eternity, all I could hear was the wind and the rustle of the trees. 

“Being inexperienced isn’t a problem. But I wouldn’t want to overstep anything, especially because you would be new to this.”

She paused again. 

Perhaps I looked sad because Astrid tried to reassure me by beginning what I would later realise was our first negotiations. 

“I… I didn’t say no,” Astrid stepped forward, compelling me to look up, “I feel this… something with you.” 

I held my breath. She stood close, her hands behind her back.

“I’ve been careful not to act on it,” there was a catch in her voice, “but if you… would like to try a little?”

The weight on my chest was unbearable but I managed to exhale a shaky, “Yes, please.”

“Yes, please” Astrid echoed, taking a moment before she added, “I have two suggestions.”

Astrid’s voice was measured but I thought I could sense a heat behind it.

“Number one, is that you come to Lips with me this week. You can wear your collar and we can just be in the space together.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t play in clubs?”

“Not as a rule, but also, we wouldn’t be playing. We would be exploring. Just to try it on.”

The tightness in my chest had twisted. What Astrid said sounded good, and I felt eager even, nervous, excited at the prospect. 

But also, disappointed. 

“Yes,” I repeated, “I think that would be good.” 

I wasn’t sure how I came across, struggling as I was to find the right response to her proposal. There really wasn’t an etiquette for this. So, I just ploughed on.

“What was your second suggestion?”

“Something small right now.”

I sucked in my breath, ”Err.. Right now?”

“Yes.”

The tightness in my chest dropped into the pit of my stomach and sweat formed on the back of my neck. 

“I think so,” I said, almost as a question to myself. 

Astrid looked at me seriously. 

“It wouldn’t be anything big or obvious to anyone else, just something subtle, for us and for a few minutes.” 

I looked around and saw we were alone on the small path and had been for the entire time we’d walked between the trees. I tried to consider what this meant, what I wanted, what it felt like, and what to say.

“Yes, please,” was what came out.

Astrid pulled out her phone and looked at it. 

“If you consent,” Astrid’s tone was more deliberate, “then for ten minutes you will obey me.”

My knees almost buckled at the word ‘obey.’

“I wouldn’t tell you to do anything out of the ordinary for the space we’re in,” she said as she looked up at me from her phone, “but you would have to do exactly what I told you to.”

I nodded, speechless.

“What do you think?”

“Okay… I mean, yes.” 

I tried to smile but imagined it might have come off quite askew. 

Astrid looked around and noticed a park bench a short way into the trees, slightly obscured to the path. She motioned towards it.

“You can stop any time,” she explained as we navigated the brush, “by saying, stop.” 

I nodded. Astrid stood next to the wooden bench and I stood in front of her and it. I noticed that carved into the cross-beam of the backrest were the words, ’WHERE IT ALL STARTED,’ and I wondered what it was that had. 

“This is important,” Astrid reiterated, looking seriously at me, “If you say stop, we stop.”

“I understand.”

“Good,” she said, seeming satisfied, “Then, for the next ten minutes, you will do exactly what I say until I say stop or you do.”

I nodded again. An electric current buzzed through my whole body, toes to scalp. 

Astrid clicked something on her phone. 

“Good,” she repeated but then paused, seeming to consider something, “And while you choose to obey, you will address me as Miss.”

“Okay,” I answered simply. 

Astrid raised an eyebrow. 

The electric current still humming through me surged at her instructions, tingling into my fingertips. 

She sat on the bench, knees together to one side and her spine straight but not leaning against the backrest. She held her phone up and placed her other hand in her lap.

“Ready?” she asked, her thumb hovering over one of the phone’s keys. 

“Yes Miss,” I said and thought I saw a sparkle flash in her eyes as I did. 

“Then ten minutes,” Astrid looked down at her phone and pressed a button, “starting now.”

I stood still, my breath heavy in my chest. I didn’t know what to do with my hands which were resting at my sides but suddenly felt heavy and weird. 

Astrid lowered her phone and cupped it in her lap. She sat, silently, looking at me. 

I was profoundly self-aware and now had an even stronger impulse to shuffle, or look elsewhere. But somehow, that felt inappropriate, so I tried to just stand and wait. 

“Stand up straight and fold your hands behind your back,” Astrid ordered gently. 

For a moment I didn’t quite understanding what she was asking, but then tried to adopt the pose she wanted. It was all so odd. Straightening my back, I realised I must have a tendency to slouch. I wasn’t sure what she meant by folding my hands behind my back so I laid one hand over the other at the base of my spine, interlocking the thumbs so my palms faced outwards. 

“Good,” Astrid said with a softness to her voice, “but from now until we’re done, when I give you a command, you will respond with ‘yes, Miss,’ before you comply. Is that understood?”

I flushed and answered, “Yes, Miss.”

She nodded, and looked me up and down.

“You will untie the laces of one of your shoes and then tie them again,” she instructed, “And when you are done, you will remain in the position you adopted to do so.”

I started to move but winced before standing straight again.

“Yes, Miss,” I corrected. Astrid smiled and nodded as if to encourage me to continue. 

I crouched down and began the bizarre task. My mind was spinning, in part not comprehending at all why she was having me do this. This was not what imagined BDSM to be like. 

But I did feel an excitement at following her orders. And the way she looked at me. I found it hard to put the exact feeling into words as I fumbled the knot on my right shoe. 

I kept my eyes down as I began to retie the laces, and realised I couldn’t see what Astrid was doing, short of the peripheral vision of her heels and calves. I finished the bow and tried to stay still.

“Very well done,” Astrid praised, and a short nasty thought struck that she might be mocking me, “You stayed where I told you to and didn’t even look up.” 

Her compliment sounded genuine. I was overcome by a surge of pride. 

“When I praise you, you say, ‘thank you, Miss’”

“Thank you, Miss,” I repeated. 

“Look up.”

I obeyed and quickly added after the fact, “Yes Miss, sorry.”

Astrid smiled gently and I wondered if I could detect a chuckle being suppressed. 

“That’s alright,” she reassured, “But it’s ‘sorry, Miss’”

“Yes Miss,” I replied, feeling a shock of shame, “Sorry, Miss.”

“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Astrid grinned.

“Thank you, Miss,” the shame ebbed as quickly as it had risen.

“Oh, very good,” Astrid laughed and clapped her hands together, her phone now resting in her lap.

I wasn’t sure if she had directed that at me, and I felt an awful uncertainty as to whether I was expected to thank her again or not. 

I kept quiet, holding my pose, looking at her and trying to deny the urge to look down. 

It was then I realised the position she had put me in. I was down on one knee, the other raised, my hands on the ground either side for balance. 

As if she noticed my realisation, Astrid paused again and I remained that way. 

My legs began to ache. 

“Now, do the same with the other shoe.”

“Yes, Miss,” I began to obey. 

I blushed as I changed my extended knee, untied and then retied my other shoe. I felt her gaze burning on the back of my neck as I worked. I was breathing heavily when I finished. 

I stayed still and waited. 

Astrid leaned forward from the bench, “Good girl.”

Astrid

I’d been distracted at work again, riding around making deliveries in a fog of planning how to break it off with Kitty. Despite that, I still didn’t have a clue of what I was going to say by the time I got home. 

I was in the middle of putting up my hair, trying again to rehearse a kind but firm, ‘it’s been great…’ when my mobile rang. I picked it up with one hand, trying to hold my hair in place with the other. 

“Hefrow?” I answered, cursing myself for not having at least spat out the hairpins. 

“Hey babe, done the deed yet?” Jen’s cheery voice chimed. 

I tried not to groan audibly. 

She’d left the previous night still unconvinced I could simply call it off with Kitty but had been at least somewhat encouraging. I should have known better to assume she would leave it at that.

“I haven’t left for Richmond yet,” I managed to retrieve the pins from my mouth by balancing the phone in the crook of my neck. 

“Oh, is that right?” she asked cheerfully, as if she didn’t know full well I was meeting Kitty at 4, 

“What a stroke of luck, I have a client out that way this afternoon, we can travel together.”

“Absolutely n…”

“Grand, I’ll throw on a jacket and meet you outside your place in five, toodle-pips.” 

And she hung up.

“For fuck’s sake,” I quickly finished pinning my hair and checked my lipstick before striding to the front door. 

“Hiya!” Jen grinned, looking like she had been quite ready to leave before even calling me, standing there in her very tight grey suit, her hair tied in a high ponytail and sporting her brightest red lipstick. 

“Ugh, fine,” I surrendered.

She was in high spirits the whole trip to Richmond, telling me about a recent flirtation with Sam from the club, and a new client who she was trying out new forms of humiliation on. 

“He’s a delight, and I do love to watch him squirm with all those clothes pegs attached. His Mistress told me it’s doing wonders for his laundry service,” she complemented herself as we pulled into the station.

I was smiling despite myself. Jen’s exploits had that effect on me. 

My heart sank again though as we rose out of the tube, still no idea what I was going to say to Kitty. 

“Don’t know what you’re going to tell her?” Jen read my mind as we crossed the street to wait. 

“No,” I admitted, “but I’m sure it’ll come to me.”

“Uh huh,”

“You’re not helping,” I complained.

“Didn’t say I would,” she offered pleasantly, “Honestly, I don’t understand the problem. If you’re just not into her…”

“It’s not that, and you know it,” I grumbled as we watched people exit the station. 

“Then what is it? It sounds like she’s a natural. But if you’re not up for it…”

“It’s her!” I hissed and batted Jen’s arm. 

Kitty walked out of the tube and looked around, not seeing us yet. 

She was stunning, her dark hair and soft features in contrast to the white t-shirt covered by a simple brown jacket, which showed off her slight curves. 

“Oh, now I get it,” Jen sighed, “You didn’t tell me she was a fucking…”

“Will you piss off?!” I whisper-screamed.

Jen grinned at me, “Oh, alright then. But after you’ve broken up with her, do send her my way to be consoled, yeah?”

I glowered.

“By-eeeeee,” Jen sang a little too loudly as she walked off with a wave. 

Kitty hadn’t noticed us thankfully, so I called out to her. She flashed a sparkling smile when she recognised me, and charmed me even more with her jaunty jog across the street. 

Fuck, this was going to be impossible.

I led us to the park, frantically trying to come up with some way to approach the subject.

She got me talking about Richmond instead. I missed living closer. The squat I had been in south of the river had been a shit-hole but it did mean I could get to the park regularly.

I’d become distracted and tried to rally my thoughts again as we got into the woods, but still coming up with nothing until Kitty broached the topic herself. And then when I started to apologise, she blew me away by saying she’d loved it. 

I didn’t know what to say at first, but then she was so worried she’d offended me, I had to try to explain.

It was hard to get the words out. 

It still hurt thinking about Anne and perhaps that’s why when she asked how it could work with her, I was blindsided again.

Without thinking, I asked if she actually wanted it, and she said, ’yes, please.’

Yes, please!

My mind went blank. Despite all my assertions to myself and Jen, I wanted it too. 

I really did. 

I wanted her on her knees. 

I scrambled to come up with a response and set boundaries, my desire running away from me. 

Quickly, I thought that Lips was a good idea. 

Yes, invite her there. I thought, It will give us a couple days to cool off and I could always back out of it in the meantime…

But then she looked so disappointed. 

Her bottom lip actually quivered. 

I was going to suggest she do some research on BDSM for her other task, but when she looked like that, I couldn’t help myself. 

And the second I’d suggested we do something there and then, and she said, ’yes, please,’ again, it was like a switch had been tripped in my head. 

I found myself standing in front of a girl, who I would guide and take care of for the next ten minutes.

And then when I had her kneeling in front of me, it was all I could do not to ravish her. She behaved so perfectly and tried so hard. The lump in my throat made it almost impossible to call her a ‘good girl.’ I watched her reaction and thought I noticed a shift in her weight and a change in her breathing. 

My goodness, what a very good girl she was.

Fuck, I thought, I can’t run too far ahead of myself.

I leaned forward and stroked the back of her head and she murmurred. 

“Shhh,” I tried to speak softly, “There’s a good girl.” 

She fell silent and I had a mean urge to chastise her for not replying with a ‘thank you, Miss,’ but held it in. 

“Look up.”

“Yes, Miss,” her tone was softer as she obeyed, her expression serene and her eyes half closed. 

I gripped her chin and pulled her gently towards me. As I edged her forwards, she became off-balance, her muscles straining. 

I looked directly into her eyes. 

“You are a very good girl,” I said with more force than I had meant to. 

Her eyes opened wide and her lips parted. 

My own breath was shallow, more laboured. 

Shit, I need to control myself!

I gently let go and she tipped back ever so slightly. 

She looked at me, wide-eyed, open-lipped, not moving her head down from the angle I had drawn it into. 

Fuck… fuck, fuck! What am I going to do with this girl?!

A million thoughts ran through my head but none seemed remotely reasonable in the current environment, despite the lack of other people. 

Ask her to bark? No, that’s not my thing.

Step on her fingers? No! I mean not right now anyway, plus I’m not really a sadist like that.

Fuck!

I wanted to stroke her breasts. 

Her t-shirt was hanging low and her gentle cleavage was showing. I could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

Damn, I’ve been quiet for too long.

“Stand up,” I ordered as steadily as I could.

“Yes, Miss,” she answered promptly and stood in the same position I put her in at the beginning, her arms behind her back. 

I held my breath looking up at her. 

A rush of power ran through me and I felt completely in control. The desire to kiss her was replaced by an overwhelming urge to hold her and whisper gently in her ear. 

I stood up in front of her, laying my phone on the bench.

“Eyes down girl,” I said, my voice deeper now. 

“Yes, Miss.”

Kitty lowered her eyes. My heart was fit to burst and my mouth was dry. 

I wanted to hold her. 

I wanted her to lie on the bench with her head in my lap. 

I wanted to have her kneel at my feet and cuddle my legs. 

I wanted… 

The alarm beeped brutally. 

I was shook by the callous interruption but tried to catch myself. 

“And that’s it,” was all I could think to say, and chided myself for sounding so silly, “What I mean is, Kitty, you can look up and relax, our ten minutes are done.”

She didn’t move.

“Kitty?”

She looked up, tears streaming down her face. 

“Oh fuck, Kitty!” I raised my hand to my mouth and the other to her arm but was frightened to touch her, “Are you okay?”

She looked at me and my mind raced. 

Fuck! What had I done to her?!

“I’m… I’m okay.”

“Kitty,” I implored, “Talk to me please.” 

“I’m,” she said again and seemed to stop to consider, “really well.” 

I almost laughed at the absurdity. It was hard to take in what she said. 

It was then I realised she still hadn’t moved her arms from behind her back. 

She’s still in the scene… Fuck!

I tried to compose what I imagined at that moment must have been an expression of utter horror. 

I set my jaw.

“Okay Kitty, I’m glad to hear that,” I said in as measured a tone as I could muster, “I want you to try to relax your arms now and then I’m going to sit down and I would very much like it if you would sit next to me.”

Kitty’s lips began to form a ‘yes, Miss’ but she stopped short and nodded. She shifted her arms stiffly at first and then lowered them to her sides. I sat down on the bench and held out my hands to coax her next to me. She turned, sat, and leaned into me. 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, tears still flowing, “I don't know why…”

“It’s okay,” I stopped her, “You don’t need to be sorry and you don’t need to explain.” 

I reached my arms around her and she let me pull her closer. Kitty shuddered as I held her in silence. 

My mind was racing. 

Fuck! How could I have missed how deeply and quickly she’d gone?

Had I misread her?

Or was I just too distracted by my own fucking horn?

I tried to not show my self-flagellation outwardly, and instead stroked Kitty’s arm and hair, making calming noises. 

She began to stir and then sat up, wiping what remained of her tears away.

“How are you doing?”

“I… I’m alright.”

I watched her closely, trying to get a sense of how she actually was. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” she repeated and waved me off when I tried to interrupt, “I know, you said it wasn’t anything to apologise for.”

“That’s right. And it should be me apologising. I should have seen the state you were in and managed it much more carefully.”

“I’m not sure how you could,” she replied, “I didn’t start crying until I was looking down.”

“I should have kept a closer eye,” my guilt fully piled on. 

“I don’t think you did anything wrong,” Kitty urged. 

“Okay,” I didn’t want to belabour the point with her just then, “Can you tell me how it felt?”

Kitty looked down for a moment and then back up at me. 

“It was wonderful.”

I was taken aback. 

In my guilt, I hadn’t even considered that might have been possible.

“It was?”

“It felt,” she looked into the trees, “free.”

I was shocked, then overcome by a rush of joy.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” I tried to maintain an even keel through the rollercoaster of emotions, “Can you… say how?”

“It was like I was letting go,” she turned back to me with a soft smile, “It was odd at first and I felt really unsure. But after a while, I knew you were in control and taking care of me. Taking care of everything.”

The warmth in my chest spread and my whole body lightened. 

“I could just do what you said,” she continued, “and everything felt like it was going to be okay.”

She turned away suddenly. 

“Kitty?” I tried not to sound concerned. 

“Sorry,” she said, “I must sound ridiculous.”

“Oh Kitty,” I gushed, not able hold back anymore, “Honestly that is the very finest thing I could hear.”

She looked up at me, surprised. Tears of my own threatened. 

“I had no idea you would feel it this strongly,” I smiled broadly, “but what you’re describing is the kind of submission I really want.”

She smiled in return and looked embarrassed. 

“I mean it,” I encouraged, “I want my submissive to feel free and like I’m taking care of her because she knows that all she has to do is obey.”

I stopped, shocked how much I’d shared. 

“You fell so deeply into subspace,” I changed the subject quickly.

She looked at me quizzically.

“Uh… subspace is what we call that sort of…” I struggled for a description, “It’s like a state of mind, a headspace, I guess, where the submissive feels like they are floating and calm.” 

She nodded, as if in recognition. 

“I’ve been told it can feel quite wonderful, and I’ve seen submissives go into it before. I just wasn’t expecting you to. Or so deeply.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Well,” I tried to think of a way to explain it, “it depends. For some it’s the very best experience and something they yearn for. For others it can be an obstacle or even a bit dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Kitty looked concerned. 

“Oh, sorry,” I stroked her forearm, “Just dangerous if the Dominant doesn’t handle it properly or if it means the submissive forgets what has been negotiated or how to stop.”

That awful wave of guilt crashed down on me again. 

“That’s why I should have been keeping a better eye on you,” I looked down and shook my head, “I’ll just have to remember for next time.”

What the actual fuck did I just say?!

I looked up at Kitty, my eyes bulging.

She just looked back at me, “When?”

I stared at her for a moment and then laughed. 

She looked hurt. 

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t mean…” I stumbled, feeling awful, “It’s just I wasn’t expecting…”

I stopped and sighed.

“I wasn’t expecting any of this,” I admitted, “I… I mean… You really want to do it again?”

Kitty nodded and something softened in my chest. 

“Well… I suppose…” I considered, feeling like I’d lost all measure of the situation, “We did say we would go to Lips?”

Kitty finally smiled and nodded again, but more enthusiastically. 

I was so charmed. 

“Yes, absolutely,” she added, “I mean, if you still want to?”

The worry of the morning stirred. 

I nodded and looked down at my hand still holding hers. 

“What’s it like? For you?”

“The dominant part?”

“Yes,” she looked at me so earnestly. 

“It’s…” I stopped, trying to decide what I could say. 

“There’s nothing like it…It’s like a pure connection,” I focused on fiddling with her fingers, “It’s like there’s nothing in the world that can’t be done. It’s not just power, it’s empowering.”

An icy fear gripped my chest.

“I’m not sure I’m explaining this well,” I turned to look at her again.

She had the sweetest expression of rapt attention. 

“I feel a sense of calm, like I’m exactly where I want and need to be, and I don’t have anything to fear.”

She nodded but I couldn’t know if she understood what I meant. It was hard to put into words, and I hadn’t meant to say any of it at all.

“Also,” I smiled, tilting my head to one side, “it’s really sexy.”

Her smile shifted in a way that suggested she realised my deflection. 

“I can see that it is,” she answered, flushing as she added, “It’s like sexual, but also not.”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed.

We looked at each other and her expression softened. 

My stomach lurched and I didn’t know whether to go into full on panic or kiss the girl. 

Kitty made up my mind for me by leaning forward hesitantly, before stopping and looking at me with her begging eyes. 

I cupped her cheeks and kissed her hungrily, trying to silence my doubts. I was desperate, as if I needed to make sure everything was okay, or to assert myself, or change the subject. 

Kitty reached her arms around me. My left hand found the roots of her hair whilst my right ran over the stubble on the other side of her head. I gripped her hair gently as I released her lips briefly before assaulting them again. 

Kitty’s hands moved to my shoulders, my neck, and then my breasts. I gasped for air and opened my eyes to look at her. 

I wanted to devour her. And I might have, had I not noticed a shadow move behind her. 

“Oh fuck!” I startled, and Kitty whipped her head around to look in the direction I was facing. 

Walking along the path was what I could only describe as a very nicely put together heterosexual couple walking their dog. They seemed to be speaking very loudly and scuffing their feet. I wondered if this was their way of trying to let us know they were coming in the most British way possible? 

“It’s okay,” Kitty put a protective arm around me. 

She must have thought I was worried about the interlopers and I was touched by her concern.

“I know,” I snuggled her to me, which drew a warm smile from her before she gently rested her forehead onto my chest. 

We sat like that for a while, Kitty breathing calmly while I stroked her head. The fear began to creep up on me again, but I was desperate to enjoy the moment. 

Because it was lovely. And it felt good having Kitty in my arms like that. 

But thoughts intruded anyway. 

What the fuck was I doing?!

She is completely green.

“Listen, um, there’s something you should know,” I said, more seriously, “In a little while, when you’re home, you might start to feel low.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s something that can happen after submitting,” I explained, “Well, it can happen to Dominants too. It’s a kind of a drop.” 

She looked confused.

“It’s like after a really good time, you can feel a bit sad after? Or when you finish a really big project.”

“Oh, I think I understand.”

“I really didn’t expect this to affect you so much, so the drop might also be a little intense.”

She nodded, “Uh, okay.”

“Can you promise to call if that happens?” I asked, wanting to be responsible and careful with her, even if I was feeling awful again. 

“Yes, of course,” she straightened up and seemed more awkward.

I looked at her, sceptical. 

“I need you to promise,” I said more sternly than I meant to. 

“Yes… of course,” she answered quickly, her eyes darting down briefly, “I promise.” 

“Okay,” I tried to trust her. 

I looked up and around us, placing my hands on my thighs, “Um… Okay. Should we continue our stroll?”

She nodded and we stood together. 

I wiped down my skirt and we looked at each other for a moment before Kitty held out her hand to me. 

I smiled, took it, and led her back to the path. 

We walked for a while in silence. 

I enjoyed the feel of her hand in mine, and held it firm but not too tight. It felt good to gently guide her.  

“Is it always like that?” she asked as we came to the trees-edge again. 

I wasn’t sure what she meant at first.

“Being dominated?”

“Yes. Um, I guess, I still don’t think I totally understand what happened.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“It might take a little time,” I looked forward out of the trees, before turning to look at her, “think about it for the next day or two, and we’ll talk.”

“Do you still want to take me to Loose Lips?” she seemed so shy. 

“Yes… I really do,” I said unreservedly, shocked I had, “But… I really want to be careful. You dropped into that really quick. I just want you to… uh, think about it.”

“Okay,” she answered, still uncertain.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I tried to reassure her, despite my roiling waves of panic.

“Me too,” she replied warmly. 

We walked a while longer, slipping into other topics of conversation. 

She asked if I had always lived in London. I told her I’d escaped the midlands, avoiding saying why. I changed the subject to the co-op I’d moved into. She explained how she came to London for her studies after High School. She seemed cagey about her past before that and her family. Years of living with queers, I knew better than to pry. 

She told me about meeting her flatmates and getting a place together as a little family. She said she wanted to introduce them all to me properly. I made a remark about being invited to meet the parents. She laughed at that. I realised that despite my anxiety, we’d been laughing a lot by the time we arrived back at the tube. 

And I was sad we had to part. 

“I… had a really good time,” she shuffled her feet adorably, as we stood at the tube entrance. 

“Me too,” I didn’t know what else to say. 

“I’m glad I’ll see you again soon,” she added sweetly. 

“Me too,” I repeated, more certain, before adding, “But you will call me?”

Kitty looked at me quizzically but then smiled. 

“I mean, if you feel drop.”

“Yes, of course,” she answered with a curt nod and I thought she might have curtseyed too. Or perhaps that was my very overactive imagination. 

“I’m glad.”

And we stood silently again, like two teenagers wondering what to do with each other. 

“Oh fuck it,” I reached forward to kiss her deeply. She ’meeped’ audibly, which almost made me laugh. 

I released her.

“See you Friday,” I promised. 

She nodded, startled, and waved sweetly before walking into the tube.

Stepping onto the bus, I was still tilted. 

I sat and tried to look out the window but was soon standing up again, not able to sit still. 

I had gone to call it all off and instead I ended up Domming her in the woods? Jesus!

I fretted the whole long trip home and was still brooding as I walked up the street to the coop.

“Ahoy there!” 

I looked up the pavement to spy Jen grinning, waving, and trotting over. 

“Fancy running into you here,” she gushed, as she stood in front of me with two hefty bags of shopping, suggesting this was in fact a chance encounter and not that she had been standing there waiting for me all this time. 

“Hi Jen,” I greeted grumpily and kept walking. She fell into step next to me. 

“So how did it go with the delectable Kitty?” she asked all too cheerily, “Did you break her heart?”

“Did you set her free?” she continued, relentless, “Is she wandering the streets, lost and alone, as we speak?”

I said nothing. 

“Since you’re not seeing her anymore, do you mind if I have a crack at her?” Jen grinned. 

“Shut it, Jen,” I retorted but with no real fire, quite defeated. 

“Could you give me her number?” Jen continued to dig as we got to my place. 

“Not another word,” I mumbled at her and opened the door. 

She skipped in behind me.

“What do you meeeean?” she purred, “Are you saying she isn’t quite entirely available now? After you went to such efforts to let her down easy?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jen,” I collapsed into the sofa after dumping my coat and shoes, “No, I didn’t break it off with her, okay? Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very,” she flopped down next to me, reaching into her shopping bags for ginger snaps and a bottle of rosé. 

“Glasses?” she asked meaningfully and I stood up with a grunt, went to the kitchen, and came back with two wine glasses and a corkscrew. 

“So tell all,” Jen uncorked the bottle with a practiced flourish, “Were you beguiled by her feminine wiles? Struck silent by her beauty? And what a stunner she is, might I say.”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what?” she poured us both generous measures. 

I took a glass and a biscuit.

“I meant to…” I sighed and Jen already started to giggle, “Jen! Fucking hell! I did mean to call it off… It’s just…”

“Yeees?” she asked meaningfully and took a long sip. 

“Well, she stopped me before I could… and said that she… well… loved the other night.”

“She did, did she?” Jen waggled her eyebrows. 

I glared at her. 

“Uh huh,” I replied, exasperation turning once again into long-suffering, “Well, we walked into the woods, and Kitty said she wanted to try something.”

Jen’s grin was unbearable, “In the woods you say…”

“Just stop! This is serious.”

“I’m sorry,” she became more sincere, “Tell me what happened.”

“Well,” I fiddled with the stem of my glass, “I gave her 10 minutes of obedience. You know, ’do what I say for a short while,’ nothing that would be out of place in the park.”

“Certainly,” she sipped her wine.

“She went into raging subspace.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… And I missed it.” 

“Okay.”

“It was right at the end. She had her head down and we finished and then suddenly she was crying and had lost all her words.”

“So, she’s a proper sub then?”

“I don’t know,” I huffed, the guilt having come back with a vengeance, “Maybe? But I missed her drop into subspace. I could’ve done something awful to her.”

“That seems unlikely. I mean, did you?”

“She said she was alright.”

“And was she being honest?”

I always appreciated Jen’s plain speaking. She got to the heart of things quickly and cut through a lot of crap. She really was a good counsellor. 

“I think so.”

“Okay,” she considered, “I understand you’re upset that you didn’t notice her drop. But it sounds like you didn’t have reason to predict it and you talked her through it after?”

“Yes.”

“And she was okay?”

“She wanted to do it again straight away.”

“Well,” she paused for a moment to think and sip, ”Sounds like you have a true-blue sub on your hands.”

“But I should have been more careful with her!” I complained, “And fuck, I was going there to stop all this!” 

“Alright,” Jen sighed, “Let’s say you should have been more careful. But honestly, it sounds to me like you dealt with it fine. You know better for next time?”

“Yes,” I picked up a little late she’d implied there would be a next time.

“Then, I say stop beating yourself up about it,” she concluded, “It’s not really your cup of tea anyway. Learn from this and I say explore what you have in this Kitty.”

Jen reclined further, sipping her wine. 

“On the other hand, if you really do think you need to be punished, I can always spank you?” Jen offered, and I couldn’t quite tell if she was joking or not. 

“I think I’m alright,” I answered carefully, and she didn’t change her expression, “But thank you, Jen, honestly.”

She nodded, seeming satisfied.

“So, tell me about her then,” she encouraged, “What kind of hot little thing did you pick up and immediately turn to the light? And P.S. may I say, I’m rather envious of such Domme skills. Truly, you are Mistress of the art.” 

I grimaced at her before laughing despite myself. 

I spent the rest of the evening telling her about Kitty. I found myself describing her cute button nose, smooth skin, infectious smile, constant blushing, her wit, and sweetness.

“Falling for your girl, are we?” Jen asked, a little silly from her second glass. 

“She’s not my girl,” I answered with a buzz of my own.

Jen continued to giggle.

“I mean, I don’t know,” I conceded, “Fuck, I keep thinking about her. I told her to call. I also called her a good girl. Lots. And she seems to love it. And fuck, I love watching her love it.” 

“Well, you’d best be careful Mistress Falk,” she grinned, “Mind your heart as you bend the fair Kitty to your will.”

I threw a cushion at her. 

The night had gone on a little longer like that. Jen making lewd innuendos, my responding with exasperation but also not a little delight. We didn’t quite finish the bottle, but almost. Jen left it with me as well as the ginger snaps and a few parting instructions not to flog myself over this and to try to enjoy what was to come. 

She knew me too well, because of course, I couldn’t let it go. It might have been good if I could have gotten a flogging for it. That was the downside of being the Dominant. When a sub misbehaved, we could punish them and give them some release. 

When a Domme got it wrong, that really wasn’t a thing. It’s why I appreciated Jen so much. I needed to be able to check in with someone, and that was Jen. She understood my desire for power exchange. Not everyone gets the 24/7 thing. Some told me that they didn’t think it was possible. And to be fair, in my personal experience it hadn’t been. 

Seeing Kitty cry like that, I thought I’d fucked her up good. But at the same time, I think I realised what it could mean for her. And perhaps for me too? 

I quickly cut off that train of thought. 

It had been one time. 

What if that was it for her?

What if she didn’t want to do it again?

Or didn’t want to do it with me?

I had to stop that train of thought too and resisted the urge to call Jen to spill all my insecurities onto her again. I resolved to call it a night instead and get some sleep. The wine had left a buzz and I drained the last of the bottle into my glass, picked it up with the biscuits, and tottered into the bedroom.