Commanding but not cruel.
Someone who would make me feel safe enough to let go.
But every scenario I pictured had the same blue eyes. The same rough voice. The same hands that had held me in the hallway just hours ago.
I closed the browser and set my phone aside.
This was insane. All of it.
But as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About surrender. About release. About what it would feel like to stop carrying everything alone, even if just for a few hours.
About whether I was brave enough to actually do something about it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Palisade
Three days after Holly's wine night, I sat in my car outside the clinic staring at my phone.
The Sassy's website was still open in my browser from last night. I'd spent two hours reading through their policies, their safety protocols, and their member reviews. Then I'd created an account, filled out the experience questionnaire, and stared at the "Submit" button for twenty minutes before closing my laptop.
But I'd reopened it this morning.
Yesterday, Easton had brushed past me in the narrow hallway between the kennels and treatment room. It was innocent, unavoidable in the small space. But the brief contact had sentelectricity through my entire body, and I'd seen his pupils dilate, his breathing quicken. We'd stood there frozen for a heartbeat too long before he'd cleared his throat and moved past.
Neither of us had said a word.
This couldn't continue. I was a professional. A mother. A woman who'd spent six years maintaining perfect control over every aspect of her life.
And that control was unraveling thread by thread every time Easton looked at me.
I clicked on my saved draft application and read through my preferences one more time:
Experience level: Beginner
Seeking: Experienced Dom for private session
Interests: Sensory exploration, trust exercises, surrender
Hard limits: No pain, no degradation, complete anonymity required
Preferred date: Saturday evening
My finger hovered over ‘Submit request.’
This was insane. I was a mother scheduling anonymous sessions at an exclusive club like I was booking a massage appointment. What if someone found out? What if—
My phone buzzed with a text from Easton.
Easton:
Running 10 minutes late. Flat tire. Sorry.
I looked at his message, then back at the application.
Casey needs stability. You need clarity. This is how you get it.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit submit.
