This story was written for the following prompt: "Everyone thinks I'm a sweet demure young woman and they probably believe that I'm completely naive and innocent about sex, since that is what I project... Little do they know that I have a side-job as a professional dominatrix. That is... until one of my friends accidentally booked my services..."
Contains: gentle dominant/submissive, bondage, lots of consent.
The first thought that went through my head when Linda opened the door was
Oh fuck, I thought this place looked familiar.
I'd been here twice before, but the little suburb house looked the same as practically every other building in this neighborhood. I couldn't connect the hazy memories of parties with the address I had gotten until it was too late, too late.
As she stared at me, I could see the spark of recognition grow. I looked pretty different when I was doing this: my makeup more intense, my black hair put up in a tight bun, my clothes composed of a lot more leather than usual and the heels of my boots making me a few inches taller. Still, it was me. She knew my face, and I only had a few seconds before the question in her eyes turned into a shocked answer. I could run, or I could run with it.
Fuck it, I always thought she was cute.
"Aren't you going to invite me in, darling?" I purred at her in my best domme voice, stepping forward before she could answer. She automatically moved aside, letting me pass into the living room and closing the door. Then she froze, staring at me again, and I knew the game was up. At least nobody would notice us talking in here.
"Courtney...?" she whispered, her eyes wide.
"Yes, that's me," I replied, trying to keep a playful air. I could do this. I just couldn't afford to be... well, me. As long as I stayed confident and in charge, this would be fine. If I slipped into my shy, easily-flustered everyday self...
"But, like, Courtney Courtney?" she asked, still staring. "The one I know? Not... her twin sister, or... or doppleganger, or something?"
"Yes," I said, my chest tight.
She was still trying to wrap her head around it. "You're a dominatrix...? Like, fuck me, seriously? You can't say cock without blushing!"
"A-And that disqualifies me, does it?" I said, a familiar heat rising to my cheeks. I was already losing it. Shit.
"Well-" She looked down at herself. "I... I guess not in this case... but... seriously?
You?
Doing
this?
"
She met my eyes again, and I could see the judgement in her gaze. Excuses leapt into my mind, pushing at my lips, but I held them back. Barely. I was starting to realize the only reason I could be so self-assured as a domme was because my clients had no idea of what I was typically like. She expected me to be nervous and bashful, and goddammit, that's what I was becoming.
"I can't believe it," she said, shaking her head. "This is... insane. I mean, you're so... so shy, normally. Me and the girls try to censor ourselves around you. I didn't even know you liked
women.
And it turns out you're... this."
"Please don't think I'm weird," I blurted, then winced. Yup. There it was. My confidence down the drain in less than two minutes. Why did I even come in? Did I really think I could dominate someone who I'd known for years?
After a few moments, she broke into a grin. "There's the Courtney I know." She stepped forward, giving me a brief hug, then pulled away, her hands on my shoulders. "This... this is really weird. But you're not weird. Like, fuck, I'm the one who hired you. I'm not in a position to judge."
I didn't even consider this from her side. It was probably just as bad, knowing that she had revealed her own deviant tastes to her friend. At least I had the excuse of doing it for the money; she was the one paying for it.
"Do you want a glass of wine or something?" she asked, pulling away, and I realized I had been quiet for too long.
"Sure." I didn't normally accept drinks from clients, but this was anything except normal and something to dull my embarrassment sounded perfect. She went into the kitchen as I sat down on the couch, putting the large bag I carried at my feet. After a minute, she came back with two glasses, filled rather closer to the brim than was typical. I didn't object, merely taking long sips as she sat next to me and did the same, both of us hoping to ease the difficult conversation ahead. The glasses ended up almost being emptied before either of us spoke a word.
"So..." she said finally. "This is probably pretty fucked up to ask, but are you still... like, willing?"
I didn't immediately understand; when I did, I almost sprayed wine across the room. "You- You still want to...?"
"I didn't hire a dominatrix on a whim," she said, giving me a wry smile. "I kinda had something in mind. And, well, you came inside after recognizing me, so I figured you might... y'know."
That was true, but I was seriously questioning my own judgement on that. "We're friends... I don't want it to be weird between us."
"It's already gonna be weird. I mean, now I know what you do, and... you know that I like what you do." She shrugged, her cheeks pink. "And... you're pretty cute. Or hot, with the leather."
'Hot' was unfortunately accurate. The heat of my embarrassment and the glow of the wine plus my long, heavy jacket was making me feel uncomfortably warm, but taking it off wasn't an option. It was there to cover up an outfit that would be completely inappropriate in public and also completely inappropriate in front of Linda... at least at the moment, if she was really proposing this.
"Um," I managed eventually, finishing the last of my wine and setting the glass next to hers on the coffee table. "We'd be the only ones to know, right?"
"Yeah," she said, suddenly getting excited as she realized I was considering it. "God, yeah, of course! It'd be bad for both of us if anyone knew."
"Okay. This might be a bad idea, but... okay." I took a deep breath, trying to reorient my mind into 'domme mode.' "So... let's talk about it. How much experience do you have with this kind of thing?" I could see her hesitate and added, "Don't say what you think I want to hear. It'll be better if I have a real idea of what you're familiar with."
"Alright," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "Being totally honest, I pretty much have no experience. Like, I had a girlfriend who put me in handcuffs a couple times and that's it. But, uh, I'm familiar with the idea. From... y'know. Porn and stuff."
"Okay. Thank you for telling the truth."
She looked up at me. "Will... that be a problem?"
"No, not at all. I have plenty of clients who are... experimenting for the first time."
She snorted. "You say that so casually, 'plenty of clients.' I can't even imagine you ordering someone around."
"You won't have to imagine," I said, attempting to sound joking, but she froze up, her gaze sliding away from me. After a moment, I carefully said, "Linda?"
"Sorry," she muttered, looking back to me but not quite meeting my eyes. "You were saying?"
I hesitated, but I couldn't just leave it. If she reacted like that to a mild tease, it might mean something bad later. "Did it make you feel uncomfortable when I said that?"
"No... not uncomfortable." She bit her lip. "It, uh, really turned me on, and I wasn't expecting it to. I mean, this whole thing is still kinda funny and weird to me, and then I realized, 'Shit, this actually could happen, Courtney could end up making me do... whatever.'" She shrugged, embarrassed, and I reached out to take her hand.
"Thank you for telling me that, seriously," I said, relieved. "Keep talking to me about how I'm making you feel. Don't be afraid to ask questions. It's much better for both of us if we're being open."
"Okay," she breathed, meeting my eyes with a smile. "God, I'm just- just so nervous, and excited and kinda drunk and I'm not sure how to react to anything because this is crazy!"
She was all but bouncing up and down, and I couldn't hold back a smile of my own at the sudden show of emotion. "That's pretty normal. So long as you're enjoying yourself, don't worry about it."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay." She took a deep breath, calming down a little. "I guess I do have questions, though."
"Shoot."
"Are you all mean and bossy when you, uh..."
"Dominate," I supplied.
"Yeah," she said, blushing. "When you dominate someone."
"Not always. It depends on the person and what they prefer. Some people like to be stepped on and shouted at, others like to be cuddled and told how good they are."
She nodded, seeming relieved. "Okay. Like, some rougher stuff seems hot, but I don't know if I'd enjoy someone shouting at me. I get enough of that at work." She paused. "So, also... I can stop you, right?"
"You mean with a safeword? Yes."
"Okay..." she said, and hesitated. "Like, no matter what, you'll stop?"
"Yes, of course."
"Okay." She let out a heavy breath. "It's just... I like the idea of being... y'know, helpless, but the thought of actually being trapped... ugh. It's really scary."
"Trust is a huge part of this," I said seriously. "For both of us. You trust me with your safety, and I trust you to tell me when there's a problem, whether that's you're not enjoying yourself or something's wrong. I know I'm kind of belaboring the point here, but
talk
