A Queen of Hearts Gets Played


Special K is what’s known as a Switch, meaning he will Dom or sub, depending on his mood. Obviously, he subs to me. And it’s no secret between us that our relationship isn’t one between client and Professional; there are feelings there…. at least on my side.

So, I decided to put together a scene I thought he would really enjoy. So many men contact me asking about two Dommes topping them at once, and Special K’s girlfriend, who is a friend of mine, has asked about topping him at some point. “Why not?” I thought. So, I put together a mine-fuck scene where K was bound, gagged, blindfolded, and had army-grade earmuffs on, so that he couldn’t hear a thing. I then began the scene. Nails dragging on his skin, nibbles down his neck. K’s girlfriend (“Pinkie”) texted to say she was coming up in the lift. I met her at the door, leaving K bound and blind on the bed. She came in, and we began touching him with one hand each… slowly we added a third so he could realise there was another woman in the room. We did loads of things to him, from flogging, biting, scratching, and other little sensual tortures, until she whipped out the strap on she’d purchased just for the occasion. I put on a rubber glove and lubed my hand up, and we tried relaxing his sphincter, with the goal of getting him to the point where she could peg him.

And I must admit, here’s where my jealousy reared its ugly head. Pegging is fun, but it can also be a pretty intimate act between two people. It’s an act of dominance and control, in ways that normal MtoF penetrative sex isn’t. And she was pegging MY K… Only, that’s the thing about Poly people; they don’t really “belong” to anyone. I told myself it was fine, that Pinkie was his primary, and so naturally, she should be the one to do this with him first. She wanted his sensory deprivation tools off of him, so he could look at her while she slowly penetrated him.

The thing about being a Domme, for me, is that I feel a lot of responsibility to ensure that the people in my scenes find them fulfilling. I know I’ll have a good time, so I focus on my play partners’ needs. But in all my planning, I never stopped to consider how I would feel about the man I have feelings for, staring at another woman while she touching him, kissed him, and while they fondled each other. She had asked that I not do anything overtly sexual with him, meaning no oral, no MtoF penetration, etc. We tried the pegging, but he was too tight, and sometimes bodies just won’t comply with your sexual goals. It happens. I won’t lie; I felt relief when he couldn’t take her strap on. But that’s where it got worse… She climbed onto the bed, and they began kissing and caressing each other. They smiled and stared deeply into each other’s eyes… and I have never felt so… unnecessary.

With clients, you expect to be a tool to help meet mutual goals. There’s no romantic attachment (generally), and you don’t expect there to be. But when your personal sub is in bed, kissing, holding, doing a bit of pillow talk with someone else, and you know you can’t participate because of how uncomfortable it would make his primary… you feel like the fleshlight they just used and tossed to get off.

To be fair, it wasn’t their fault. They are lovers. And she is his primary. They asked if I wanted to stay for ice cream. Did I want to hang out a bit? But I couldn’t stand there and watch them hold each other. Watch him kiss her, and know that I couldn’t touch him in front of her the way I wanted. I felt trapped, like I couldn’t breathe. If I stayed too long, I was going to cry in front of them both. So, what’s more professional: a hasty exit, or breaking down and begging to be hugged by your sub?

I opted to run. I grabbed my stuff, thanked them both, and beat a hasty retreat before I could think twice about it.

The emails and texts started the next day:

“Are you/we ok?”

I didn’t answer for a while. I had to have space. Because poly is hard, and while I had been the one to set up the mind-fuck scene, in the end, I was the one who felt fucked by it.


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