❛𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐗...❜ | 𝐍𝐨. 𝟏

Chapter 1- The Meeting...

"How brave, shy one. You don't even know my name yet." the fact depresses my mind, prompting me to continue with my forward approach. "Maybe I'll have that pleasure?" the woman tosses her head to the side and chuckles deeply, the feeling once again painful to my ribcage and all the way downward. "Lauren Thorne." I look away immediately and gulp at the well-known name, the short three-syllabled name a ring to my ears. I've heard many many dark and twisted stories of this woman; the most famous dominatrix in Abbey Wood, my tiny London town with a lot to offer in this creature.

If you've been dommed by her, you're practically royalty, her tight schedule a bottomless pit of difficulty to be squeezed into. Everyone says her dungeon is as admirable as her wits, if you're lucky enough to be granted access across the dangerous threshold, that is...I've long dreamt of stumbling across her door, the dream progressing into a scene too harsh for words to understand...

"You know the name, Emma." my eyes bulging widely at her voice, I suck and bite on my lower lip, pricking the red skin with my canines and jumping lightly at the blood poppyseed forming. Wincing gently, I speak with hurt in my vocals, "I- I do, Mistress..." I tip my head to the side and ponder closely...why is our towns most famous domme talking to me? Out of everyone in this club? I look around my body at the much more beautiful, capably attired submissive's, wondering why it wasn't them that had the hefty pleasure. The woman stands tall, leaning over with the sturdy posture of her thick thighs holding her steady, reaching forward with a single hand to generously wipe away the stain forming on my lip.

Anxious and unaware of how to proceed, I fiddle lightly with my switch bracelet that she might've been expecting, due to my laid back yet forwarded attitude. "It is rude to not engage eye contact with someone when in a conversation, Emma." I gasp smally and tilt my head up, embarrassment creeping up my spine as I shift uncomfortably in my seat at the light scold. "Sorry, Mistress!" the short and sharp sentence seems to put a smile back on the woman's face, relaxing me a little.

"You should be. Don't let it happen again." the twinkle in her emerald eye only enhances her dominance, the spell unable to be lifted once it's been cast upon your aching body. When ever you meet a new domme with a socially and morally high status, it's common for you to address them as Mistress, no matter what your claim-status is. I'll more than happily call this woman any name she pleases whilst I bend a candid knee before her...

I clear my throat quietly, unable to take her deep stares that burn through my anatomy like bullets firing from a burning machine in peril. "I- it's uhh, nice to meet you, Mistress..." I reply, inwardly cursing myself for stuttering once again. Lauren raises an inquisitive eyebrow, yet another damn spell of self-consciousness cast. "Likewise, sweetheart." she speaks, draining the contents in her glass of honey-golden whiskey before setting it off to the side, forgotten.

"And how long have you been such a switchy little thing?" she nods toward my bracelet I notice that I am subconsciously playing with on my wrist...I'm always prone to doing that, the action cursed with a view of rudeness and ignorance.

She speaks so softly with a side of authority that runs chills in my veins, a strip of cold lashing harsh, but not has harsh as her flogger, I'm certainly sure...

"A-about 20 months, Mistress." stuttering again, really Emma? Pathetic. This is Lauren Thorne. Control yourself. The brunette beauty continues, politely ignoring my coyness's existence. "Still pretty new to this, I see." I nod, my gaze purely on my wrist, not daring to look up for a single second. "Is that any way to address a domme in your presence?" I whip my head up cautiously, feeling my submissive side letting itself down, the bad feeling only worse while in front of the richest domina within a 20 mile radius. "Uhh, no, Mistress. Sorry..." i whispered, having forgotten Lauren's role in this society, and her dauntingly high status that must capture the poor, preyed soul of every breathing human in London, or at least the ones she sets her sights on.