I felt more confident and powerful now, so I kicked it up a notch. She arched into it, but I could hear her controlling her breathing through her nose. It made me wonder what it had been like for her to do this professionally.
“So a pro sub…” I said, “does that mean guys paid to hit you?” I tried to keep the judgment out of my tone. I’d known she subbed, but was only now thinking through the implications of what that really meant.
“When you say it like that it sounds terrible, but in a manner of speaking, yes. A pro sub lets a client play out the other side of the fantasy, which is especially good for people with partners who aren’t willing to sub. It’s a good learning experience if you want to dom and it teaches you a lot about subtly controlling a scene, managing clients, and speaking up for yourself.”
I didn’t comment because I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. She sounded so matter-of-fact about it, but that’s how she sounded about everything.
I kept spanking, backing off the heavy stuff. I felt like I was doing way better.
She reached back and squeezed her ass cheek. “Don’t be afraid to sort of cup it, grab it, rub it. Remember, this is sexual. It’s not a drum.”
Christ, woman. As though I need to be reminded it’s sexual.
I bit my tongue. “Okay.”
I tentatively tried squeezing a little.
She murmured, “The object isn’t to touch as little as possible. You’ll want to at least be able to look like you’re enjoying it…”
I was beginning to think she might be egging me on. I gave her a stinging swat on the spot she’d showed me on the top of her thighs, eliciting an adorable little squeal from her. Goddammit, how was I supposed to focus when she was driving me crazy?
She finally stopped me. “All right, let’s try it in character again. See if you can approach it more like we talked about. Just keep going and turn it into the scene. And try not to be such a prude, Mr. Chase.”
She was unquestionably egging me on. And I unquestionably liked it.
I went back to the couch, trying to channel that energy. “Get on your knees, slave.”
My tone had been too much again, and I swore she was trying not to laugh at me, which was just perfect.
She dropped to her knees in an effortless movement, and I stopped caring about looking like a dumbass.
I leaned back on the couch and beckoned with a gesture. “Crawl to me, pet.”
When I read that line in the script, I’d pictured a human crawling to look goofy, but what she did was nothing of the sort. She crept toward me with feline grace, back arched, ass up—more invitation than movement and my dick immediately RSVPed.
There was a ferocious challenge in her eyes that awakened a need in me to answer it.
“Over my knee.” I thought it sounded better, but I could still tell it was forced and over the top. It was unlike me to overact, but everything was firing on overdrive as she approached me like a predator.
She draped herself sinuously over my lap without me having to do anything, and I lost all ability to reason. There was no way I could act this out without being inappropriate, but when I hesitated, she reached up and took one of my hands, placing it on her lower back, leaving my right free to swing at her ass.
If I stopped now, I would look like an idiot because I’d have to explain to her why I couldn’t do it. But if I felt her reacting to me with her draped over my lap in nothing but a pair of cotton shorts and a tee shirt, she was going to know just how into her I was.
I panicked and reverted to the weird patting motion I’d been doing at the start. It was stiff and unnatural, but to be natural would’ve been crossing a line with her.
“I give up.” She shook her head, rolling off of me. I was worried until she added, “You need to see the real thing. I know we joked about taking you to a play party, but I really do think it would help. If you promise to be on your absolute best behavior, I’ll take you.”
“Scout’s honor.” I held up my hand.
She rolled her eyes. “Leave Alex the fucking Boy Scout at home.”
Alex the Boy Scout was all that was keeping me in line.
As we both pulled our pants back on, I asked, “Is it hard doing this with strangers all the time?
She was quiet for a minute. I liked that she thought about her answers without immediately feeling like she had to fill the silence.
“Sometimes. It can feel hard to understand what a client really wants when they aren’t always comfortable telling you. It can be tough to make it feel intimate when you don’t know each other, but that gets easier. Honestly, the hardest part most of the time is keeping a straight face. No matter how much I check my judgment at the door, there’s no getting around the fact that so many of these scenarios are objectively ridiculous. Try not laughing when you have to be someone’s small penis therapist or pretend to run them over with a car repeatedly for an hour. I’m a pro, but I’m only human.”
