Free Power Play: Katie and the Dom by Selena Kitt Page A

belly flat and ridged
with muscle. There wasn’t a thing in the world wrong with him. She liked him a
great deal, in fact, had since the beginning, or she wouldn’t have agreed to
any of this in the first place.
    You’re
just being stupid. She tried to reason herself out of her fear. It’s
butterflies, that’s all.
    Except some
part of her knew it wasn’t.
    She’d read
an article on one of those endless BDSM sites she’d perused over the past year
written by a submissive waiting for “the one.” It was about the woman’s
experiences, going to clubs, doing scenes, all the while feeling unfulfilled,
because even if it was pleasurable, even if each Dom took her just where she
wanted to go, it all felt empty because she hadn’t found “the one.” And of
course, the end to the tale was how she felt when it finally was right, when
she found “the one” and they lived happily ever after.
    And as much
as Katie had tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew that Patrick wasn’t
“the one” and anything they did together was going to leave her feeling just
the same—hollow and unsated. There had to be a way out of this. Katie tried to
speak but the gag did its job quite well, trapping her tongue, making anything
but grunting impossible. Besides, Patrick’s gaze was on her body, not her face.
She felt the heat of it, the way he looked at her breasts, his eyes dipping to
the dark triangle of hair between her thighs.
    She tried
again, but Patrick was focused on the crop in his hand, trailing it over her
shoulder and down to her breast. The “scene” had started and Katie found
herself desperate to end it. Now. Right now. Even as the crop flicked
over her nipple and her body responded, her pussy clenching with lust—she’d
been fantasizing about this for so long, so very long. Yet here she was, and
she couldn’t go through with it, in spite of the way her other nipple hardened
when the crop found that one too.
    Katie tried
again, determined now to communicate her wishes, looking at Patrick, desperately
seeking eye contact, but he seemed transfixed by the sight of her, bound and
gagged on her knees, lost in the path his crop was taking down her belly. She
grunted, pulling at the restraints above her head, feeling her body sway from
side to side.
    “Shhh,”
Patrick insisted, flicking the crop lightly but quite soundly against her hip.
The sting was incredible and brought tears to her eyes. And once the tears came
to the surface, well, that was it. It was over. There was no stopping them. Her
chest hitched as she began to cry and she grunted again, trying to say the
safeword, over and over, but Patrick’s crop was parting her pussy lips and he
was licking his own in anticipation.
    She had never
felt so vulnerable and exposed, tears streaming down her face, falling from her
quivering chin in droplets onto her bare breasts. She could barely catch a
breath now let alone try to speak or communicate and, oh god, there was snot
running down her face too, just to make her humiliation complete. She hung her
head, giving up, giving in, wondering if this was what surrender felt
like—hopeless, powerless, helpless. If this was it, she didn’t want any part of
it.
    “What in
the hell are you doing?”
    Katie looked
up at the booming sound of an unfamiliar voice. The man who appeared was like a
bigger-than-life version of Patrick—the same dark hair and eyes, the same broad
forehead and full mouth, but he was twice the other man’s size, his body
literally filling all available space in the doorway.
    Patrick
straightened, frowning, taking a step backward from both her and the looming
figure. “I’m… wait, what are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be at
work?”
    “Did this
woman give her consent?” The man stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving
Katie. He knelt by her side and the moment his hands reached for her gag, she
felt her body relax, the restraints holding her arms up going taut, taking