Chapter 4 Crossing Boundaries

• "Last night was insane, Jasmine," Ethan's voice pulled me out of my thoughts as I sipped my morning coffee. We were at the café around the corner from my apartment, one of our usual spots for a quick catch-up. His hand was casually draped over the back of the booth, his grin lazy and satisfied.
• "I could barely keep up with you," he added, eyes gleaming with the memory.
• I smile over the rim of my cup, leaning back against the booth. "You know I'm just getting started, right?"
• Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a fucking machine. What's your secret?"
• "Pure talent," I teased, flicking a sugar packet at him. "You should know that by now."
• He caught the packet, crumpling it in his fist. "I do. But it still amazes me every time."
• Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen-another client, this one a regular who liked things a little rougher than most. A smile tugged at my lips as I texted him back, confirming our session for later that afternoon.
• "What's that look for?" Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.
• Just work," I replied nonchalantly. "Got a few appointments lined up today."
• Ethan's eyes clouded over with interest. "Need any help?"
• I laughed, shaking my head. "Nice try. This one's a solo gig."
• He faked a pout, but the glint of mischief was alive and well in his eyes. "You're killing me here, Jasmine."
• "You'll survive," I tossed back, finishing my coffee. "But if you're lucky, maybe I'll give you a private show later.
• Later that afternoon, I sat in my apartment, preparing for the next client. He was a regular; Mark, a hotshot attorney, seemed to like being totally out of control. I knew him, knew how far I could go with him.
• The doorbell rang, and I opened the door to find Mark standing there, dressed in his usual expensive suit. His eyes met mine, and I could already see the anticipation in them.
• "Jasmine," he greeted; his voice was steady, yet with underlying tension. "Ready for our session?"
• I nodded, stepping aside to let him in. "Always."
• Once inside, Mark didn't waste any time, shedding his suit jacket and loosening his tie. I watched him, my eyes eating up the sight of his hands shaking ever so slightly as he undressed. This was his ritual-coming to me to let go of all the control he wielded in his professional life.
• "Strip," I instructed him, not leaving room for discussion.
• Mark was on his feet in a flash, his breath quickening as he scrambled to obey. In a matter of only seconds, Mark was down to his boxers, looking at me with this. this quite desperate look upon his face.
• "On your knees," I directed him, my tone cold, commanding.
• He dropped into his knees, looking at me wide-eyed. "Yes, Jasmine."
• I moved slowly around him, enjoying the power held over him. "You've been good this week, Mark?
• "Yes," he replied hastily. "I've done everything you wanted."
• "Ah, good," I purred, tracing my fingers through his hair before jerking his head back sharply. He groaned, pain tangling with the need written across his face. "And yet I'm going to punish you all the same."
• "Yes, please," he begged, his voice shaking with his desire. "I deserve it."
• I smile, letting him go to reach for cuffs sitting on the table nearby. "Hands behind your back.
• He did, and I clamped the handcuffs on his wrists, tight enough that they'd leave bruises. Then I moved in right in front of him, lifting his chin up with the toe of my boot.
• "Remember the safe word?" I asked, my voice going soft for just one moment.
• "Red," he whispered.
• "Good," I said, my voice hard once more. "Now, let's find out how much you can take."
• It was a heavy session, really pushing Mark to his limits in all ways he desired. He writhed under my commands, his body responding to every touch, every command. By the time we were done, he was a shaking mess, dripping sweat down his face as he knelt at my feet, utterly spent.
• "You did well today," I praised, my fingers running delicately through his hair. "You took everything I gave you."
• "Thank you, Jasmine," he whispered, sincerity thick in the depth of tone.
• I helped him to his feet and, uncuffing his wrists, guided him into the bathroom to clean up. This part was always the same: a mix of tenderness and attention in the aftermath of the storm of intensity. It was our ritual, one that kept him coming back, week after week.
• As soon as Mark left, I was lying on the couch, scrolling through my phone, when another message popped up. This one was from Ethan.
• Ethan: Come over tonight. I got something planned.
• I smiled, quickly typing back a reply.
• Me: What are you up to?
• Ethan: You'll see. Just be ready at 8.
• The curious streak was now wide awake in me, so I sat down, placing my phone aside, to ponder what was going through Ethan's mind. If I knew the guy, it could be just anything. Time was on my side since I had a few hours to kill, so I decided to get out for some fresh air and a walk to clear my head.
• The familiar hum of energy in the city was abuzz, people hastening to and fro about their business, whereas I was living a double life. It was a secret thrill, knowing I could be anyone I wanted in this teeming, chaotic world.
• I walked, my mind consumed by the limits that had been crossed, by the lines that I'd blurred in between: pleasure and control, intimacy and power. It was a game, and one I played better than anyone else. But with every step, I felt a flicker of something new-something I couldn't quite name, but that made me pause.
• What had I been looking for all this time amidst all that? The thrill? The power? Or was it still something deeper, something I could not even admit to myself?
• I pushed that one aside, focusing on the night. Ethan had something planned, and there was no way to back down. Whatever lay ahead, I was ready to take it head-on.