Page 7 of Various Intentions
I was speechless. I stared at her for a long moment.
Daphne didn’tdolove. Daphne did torture and domination and impact play and orgasm control—but she didn’t dolove.
“What? How?Who?” I stuttered. Who could possibly have stolen the heart of the city’s most enigmatic Dominatrix?
Daphne sighed. “One of my clients.” She made a comical face of distress.
“Oh wow. God. That’s…awkward?”
“I know!” she wailed. “I don’t know what the fuck to do! Or how it happened. Or why. Or how. Oh, God, Nic! Help.”
She seemed so adrift and confused that I reached a hand across the table and enfolded her narrow, talented fingers in my palm.
“Hey, it’s okay. I mean, worse things have happened, right?”
She didn’t seem convinced. “Maybe?”
“Is the guy even—wait a second.Isit a guy?”
“It’s a guy…in every sense of the word.”
I put a hand to my chest. “That hurts, Daphne.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean inthatway! You know I don’t define gender like that. I just mean— God, I don’t even know what I mean. That’s how confused I am, Nic.”
“Is he even available? Aren’t a lot of the men who come to you in committed, supposedly monogamous, relationships?” I used air quotes to indicate just how committed those relationships were.
“Yes, but he’s single, as far as I know. I don’t think he’s interested in anything more than some fun and a few orgasms.That’sthe problem. How do I let him know that I want more? He may see it as a betrayal of our business arrangement.”
“Hmm-m.”
“Hmm-m, what? Hmm-m, you’re just as confused as I am, or hmm-m, you’ve thought of a solution?”
“It might not be a solution, but it would let you know where he stood on things.”
“What? Tell me!” She clasped my hand in both of hers, her gaze imploring and desperate.
I laughed.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” she said.
“I’m sorry. But why don’t you tell him you can’t be his Dominatrix anymore because you’ve developed feelings for him? See what he says to that.”
Daphne stared at me for a long moment. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
I laughed again and raised my eyebrows. “Because you are absolutely twitterpated, and it’s fucking adorable.”
“Twitter-what-ed?” She made a face.
“It’s fromBambi. I think.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Really. I’mnota fucking Disney princess.”
I smiled knowingly. “I think that maybe youare.”
