on with her. She’d had trouble adjusting to the idea other submissives weren’t competition and might even want to be friends with her.
“That’s wonderful,” he said, reaching out across the table for her hand, which she immediately took so he could give it a squeeze. Morgan responded to both verbal and physical cues of approval from anyone she considered dominant to her, but she craved touch more than anyone he’d ever met, though she never asked for it. “Anyone I know?”
Domi
Swaying on her high heels—six inches were a torture device on their own, but she didn’t plan to be on her feet for very long—Domi sashayed into the back of Marquis with her bestie by her side. For once, she was taller than Rae, who had chosen to wear cute kitten heels rather than stilettos. That was Rae, though, dressing like a baby girl even though she swore up and down she had no interest in a Daddy Dom.
Domi had been to Marquis once a month with Mitch for the past six months for the shows, so she knew if she actually wanted to watch and pay attention to a scene, she was better off coming with Rae.
The rear entrance to Marquis had been instituted once the owners realized the restaurant portion of the building was too crowded to provide complete coverage for people who were just coming for the kink on the second floor. Domi liked it because when she was all decked out in leather and lace, she didn’t exactly blend with the restaurant patrons.
Rae—with her multitude of long braids pulled into pigtails with purple bows, a purple corset pushing her boobs up like a platter, and black and purple tutu—would have stuck out even more. At least Domi was dressed in all black, whereas the virulent purple of Rae’s corset and ribbons looked radioactive. It was also stunningly gorgeous against her dark skin and black hair.
Sometimes, Domi wished she could wear something other than black, but she had a hard enough time getting people to take her seriously. She knew what she looked like. ‘Fairy-like’ was the term used most. More than one Daddy Dom had approached her, hoping her hard exterior was really just a brat covering up a vulnerable Little. While she didn’t mind a bit of roleplay, that particular role didn’t do much for her unless it was combined with the stuff she liked. It wasn’t one she could sustain outside of a scene, no matter how she looked.
Rae, on the other hand, was totally a babygirl, she just couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Just coming to the submissive classes had been a struggle for her. A strong feminist who believed women should be able to do whatever they wanted—including submitting to a man—she’d had trouble with the idea of her submitting. After the class where Rae had tried out age play with Daddy Dom Brian, Domi had thought her bestie might quit, all together.
But Rae had insisted on joining Domi if this was what she really wanted to do because she wasn’t going to let her face “all that kinky shit” alone. Loyalty had outweighed her struggle with her own desires. That or she was using Domi’s interest to give her an excuse to keep exploring kink as well. Probably a bit of both.
“Stupid stairs,” Domi muttered under her breath as her heels sank into the plush carpet. They could have used the elevator, but she would have felt lazy doing so for only one floor when there were people who actually needed the elevator.
“Should have worn shorter heels,” Rae said, snickering at Domi over her shoulder. In her much shorter heels, she was having no trouble climbing and got to the top in half the time it took Domi.
“Shut it,” was Domi’s super creative comeback. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, her thighs and calves were burning, and she was panting slightly. That last part, she was going to blame on her corset.
Rae was already chatting with Freddy and Tracey, who were manning the front desk. Show-off. Pretending she didn’t feel the burn in her legs, Domi sashayed her way over to the front desk, tugging her pleather skirt back into place. Greeting Freddy and Tracey, she chatted with them a bit before Freddy led her and Rae into the showroom.
The booths were already filling up, most of them with groups rather than couples, interestingly enough. Domi glanced around the room, looking to see who