Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia by A.L. Bryce Page A

against Tommy as hard as she got: demanding to be fucked, not quietly taking it. So, no, she wasn’t really subby with Tommy. But with Mrs. Pea? Yes. It was like she was Superman and Mrs. Pea carried around a hunk of kryptonite in that gorgeous purse of hers. The power just drained out of Sophia when she’d entered that bathroom. Was that a bad thing? She wasn’t sure. That’s what the list was about.
    Pro: She makes me feel like no one else makes me feel. And how was that? Wet. Completely dripping with desire. That feeling she’d had when she was sixteen and wanted to hump everything and anything and would go into the bathrooms at school and jam her hand up inside herself just to relieve some of the intense pressure of swirling teenage hormones.
    Con: I am powerless when I am with her.
    Now, was that true? She couldn’t remember clearly enough if she was powerless or if she’d let go of her power. Was there a difference? And was another encounter with Mrs. Pea going to harm her irrevocably or would she always be able to return to her good old domi self, albeit after some time had passed? Could she retain some of her power in Mrs. Pea’s presence or would that ruin the whole experience?
    She tapped the pen against the pad then threw both the pen and pad across the room onto the couch. She reclined back in her chair and took another sip of her delicious iced tea.
    I’ll have to see her again. That’s all there is to it. I can’t know until I know.
    She thought back to their phone conversation.
    “Hello, dear, I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home but I was just thinking about you ... ”
    It was Monday. Tuesday was the meeting. Would it be another hand-off of damp panties and see you later? Would Mrs. Pea have something else in mind? Would she take her home with her? More importantly, was Sophia ready to totally submit to Mrs. Pea and let her dictate the events of the evening?
    “Anything for you, Mrs. Pea!” she said breathily and took another sip of her tea. Hmmmm. Don’t like that so much. “How about, Get on your knees, bitch, and come and eat my underwear off me, you want to taste me so bad!” Woo hoo. That was more like it! But then she wouldn’t get so turned on, would she? Wasn’t it the way Mrs. Pea took complete control that made her wet her pants?
    “I don’t need to be in control all the time,” she said to the walls. “I could be a Willow for awhile.”
    Her tea finished, she got up and picked up her glass, the pad, and the pen and tidied up a bit. Then she went to her closet to find the perfect outfit for her meeting with Mrs. Pea.

 
    17
     
    S OPHIA LOOKED IN THE MIRROR and sighed. No. This wouldn’t do either. She glanced over at the pile of clothes on her bed, including the new outfit she’d bought yesterday especially for her meeting with Mrs. Pea. Nothing looked right. Nothing was making her feel right. She rifled through the clothes in her closet once again, looking for the Holy Grail of perfect outfits.
    She was biting the inside of her cheek and turning left and right in her one vintage Chanel suit, when she glanced at the art deco clock on her nightstand.
    “No! No! It can’t be that late!”
    Sophia grabbed her black and white Louboutin stilettos and her purse. In her haste, the purse fell and the contents went flying. “Damn it!” Sophia bent down and began to gather up her thin leather wallet, keys, and lipstick. The cap popped off the lipstick and rolled under the couch out of reach. “Oh, for the love of ... Screw it.” She ran for the door.
    Once outside the building, she looked left and right for the doorman. He was nowhere to be found. She held her arm straight up in the air and waved her hand frantically at the passing cabs.
    “Come on! Come on, you bastards.”
    She stepped into the street.
    “I will stand in the middle of the freakin’ street if I have to ... Stop!”
    A taxi came to a screeching halt a foot from her. She yanked open the back door