The confirmation came through immediately:Request received. You will be notified when a Dom accepts your session.
My hands shook as I locked my phone and got out of the car.
What had I done?
The morning passed in a blur of appointments. I forced myself to focus on each patient. Mrs. Patterson's elderly beagle, the Parkers' anxious cat, and a puppy with an upset stomach. But part of my mind kept drifting back to that submitted request, wondering if anyone would even respond.
Around ten, my phone buzzed while I was suturing a minor laceration on a terrier's paw.
"Monique, can you check that?" I asked, not wanting to break my sterile field.
She glanced at my phone on the counter. "It's an app notification. Want me to dismiss it?"
"No, leave it. I'll check it later."
But my heart raced for the rest of the procedure. An app notification. It could be only one thing.
After finishing with the terrier and washing up, I locked myself in my office and pulled out my phone with trembling hands.
Your session request has been accepted. Saturday, 8 PM, Room 7. Your Dom's profile indicates extensive experience with newcomers and a strong emphasis on trust-building. Please review all safety protocols before your appointment.
I sank into my desk chair, staring at the screen.
It was happening.
My finger moved almost of its own accord, pulling up the Dom's profile. The club kept identifying details vague, but his ratings were visible. All five stars.
"Patient."
"Respectful of boundaries.”
"Made me feel completely safe.”
"Knew exactly what I needed before I did."
A knock at my door made me jump. "Dr. Honors?" Monique called. "Your next appointment is here."
"Be right there," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.
I locked my phone and tucked it away, trying to calm my racing heart. Saturday was only three days away.
Three days until I did something I'd never imagined myself doing.
Saturday evening came faster than I expected. I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, second-guessing every decision that had led me here. The black dress Holly had loaned me months ago felt like a costume. The delicate lace mask felt like armor and exposure all at once.
"You look pretty, Mom!" Casey called from her room, where she was packing her overnight bag for Lily's sleepover. "Are you going on a date?"
My stomach flipped. "Meeting a friend," I called back, which wasn't technically a lie.
"Okay! Tell them I said hi!"
The innocence in her voice made guilt twist in my chest. But Casey was happy, settled, thriving with Uncle Easton as a regular part of her life. This wasn't about her. This was about me managing my attraction to Easton without destroying the careful balance we'd established. His growing bond with Casey, our working relationship at the clinic, and the tentative friendship we were building.
After dropping Casey at Lily's house, I sat in my car outside Sassy's. My hands gripped the steering wheel.
You can still leave. You can text them, cancel, drive home, and pretend this never happened.
But I didn't want to pretend anymore. I was tired of being in control every second of every day. Every choice felt like a physical burden, heavy on my shoulders and exhausting. Just for tonight, I wanted to trust someone else. To surrender. To let go.
