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.
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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.