"Kiss my boots, worm!" the domme screamed at the thin, pale man writhing on the floor in front of the sharp point of her stilettos.
"Yes, Goddess." The man lifted his head. His lips moved over the patten leather of her shoes. He moaned as he worshiped.
The domme lifted one stiletto and pushed the flat part against the submissive's face. "I should walk on you."
"Please, Goddess," the man whined.
Is this similar to what you think of when you see the words domme, femdom, female dominant? That was all I knew of female dominants until my dom Tom, a switch, started playing with a domme. She didn't wear stilettos, go around in corset bustiers all the time. She wasn't always a bitch either. True, she did enjoy getting me to say things that then got me into trouble with Tom, but she still wasn't behaving like a stereotype.
She however was not the domme from whom I built Iona. There was one other non-stereotypical domme I knew. She and I engaged in some public D/s at a coffeehouse we both enjoyed. Vala talks and thinks about how she enjoys Iona's domination often in her series. In dialogue, Iona even gets to tell the reader more of what she's thinking too. So as The Queen in a way started off as a way to go further with Tom than happened in real life, Iona has been that for me with that domme.
Now look at you, lucky reader :D. You got those few lines of fun BDSM at top. Now I'm going to get Iona a cup of hot chocolate, as if she had been the domme from the coffeehouse.
"Joelle, I want a hot chocolate," Iona orders.
I blink my eyes.
Iona rolls her eyes. "Ma'am."
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll get you the hot chocolate, Ma'am." I hurry on my shaking, stiletto-clad legs to the bar. Where's Stacy? She has the bar tonight!
"She should be right back." Mark's voice comes to me from his usual seat against the wall.
"Thanks." Gods, I always wanna submit to you. But you've never seemed particularly interested. I anxiously look back and forth- Iona's probably getting impatient. What do I do?
"You look nervous. Put your head on my lap while you wait for Stacy."
I bite my bottom lip; I really shouldn't. We're just playing, Iona and I, but maybe it could be more.
Mark grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my face to his legs.
I moan softly. To be forced.
Iona presses her lips to my ear; she speaks so softly only I can hear, which somehow makes this worse. "What are you doing? I sent you to get me a drink, not to put your face on some random dom's lap!"
Before I can apologize, explain anything, my hair is wrapped around Iona's hand and she's pulling me to the back room, bent over and stumbling. Why'd I pick the 5 inchers tonight?
The back room is blissfully full of the fetish types this night.
Iona sits on an empty couch and pulls me with her, down onto her lap. "What should I do with you?"
"I... I'm sorry, Ma'am," I stutter.
"Sorry?" Iona pushes one hand under my skirt; I moan to feel her skin on my naked ass.
My legs fall open at her touch.
"Yes, Ma'am." I can't help.
Iona rummages in her handbag a moment. Her hand goes back under my skirt and a moment later, pain radiates through me from my cunt lips. A moment later, the matching bite of the clamp claims my clit.
"Ma'am," I whimper.
Iona grabs my chin and turns my head so I'm looking at her face. "Now that you're clamped, I hope you can focus on pleasing me."
"Yes, Ma'am." I press my lips together to hold in the cries and moans as she helps me onto the floor. I thought I was turned on by her care before now.
I know it's only a few yards to the bar, but it feels so far away. One small step at a time, the clamps torturing me. Serves me right to respond to Mark so.
I hear Mark's laugh before I see him. "And how is it your beautiful domme for the evening punished you?"
I snort. "And you didn't warn me why?"
"Because this is funny. And how?"
"Shut up. You're not my dom." I notice Stacy coming forward. "Stacy, I need a hot chocolate please." I hand her a $10. "Keep the change."
"Thanks." Stacy turns away.
"She put three clamps on me. I'll leave it to you to imagine where they are."
"So I shouldn't pull you to my lap this time?"
"Gods, please no." I might come without permission.
Stacy approaches, the coffee cup in hand. "On top?"
"Whip cream, chocolate sprinkles, ground cinnamon, please."
"I made shavings from chocolate-covered espresso beans. Do you think your domme would like that?"
"Sure." Iona will love it! I carefully take the cup from Stacy. This is gonna suck. At a snail's pace, hoping no one bumps into me, I pick my way to the back room. "Ma'am?" My gaze on the cup, I carefully sink to my knees.
"Good girl." Iona takes the cup from me. She catches a dollop of the whipped cream with her tongue.
"I am pleased."
I squeeze my eyes shut.
"After I finish, I may take you somewhere I can enjoy you naked."
"Please, Ma'am. Please."