Assistant #1 performed a quick adjustment of Sydney’s corset while #2 brushed her hair back into a smooth tight bun and backed away, admiring her handiwork. #1 eased a fitted jacket around her body, hitting her contoured pencil skirt just at the hip. Sydney raised her arms; her assistant circled her, making sure they have every thread in place.

“Please have a seat, Mistress.” said #2, guiding Sydney to an oversized armchair.

She sat focused and stark still as they carefully slipped her nylon adorned feet into a pair of 4 inch black patent stilettos and rechecked her makeup. For years these nameless, faceless, indiscernible objects whirled about tending to her every need, performing this salacious dance with pinpoint precision yet she neither bothered asking nor gave them a name, choosing instead to merely address them as #1, #2, #3 and #4. Only their attention to their duties and colt-like dedication to her were of any consequence.

“Please Mistress,” #1 extended her hand helping Sydney to her feet, #2 opened the door and placed the client’s portfolio in her finely manicured hands. She walked along the corridor and into the interrogation room where her assistant #3, the chaperone and safety, was completing the last security document with the client. Sydney walked to the table, reviewing the clients release information.

“Mistress must be obeyed at all times within this space, she is in control. She has the right to discipline you if you cross the line or misbehave,” #3 told the client. “I understand your safe word is ‘kitten’, correct?”

“Yes.” Sydney heard the client say over her shoulder.

“You will only use this word to stop the scene should there be a serious problem or discomfort. Throughout the scene, Mistress will ask you to identify your color. Red means stop the scene. Yellow means stop doing that, but don’t stop the scene. Green means you are fine, keep going. Are we clear?” The client nodded in agreement. #3 collected the last waiver and gave it to Sydney, out of the client’s earshot.

“Is he ready?”

“Yes, Mistress. His papers are all in order. He has paid for two hours.”

“It won’t take that long,” Sydney deadpans, motioning for #3 to leave.

“Mr. X,” she purred in her infamous Domme voice as she advanced, slowly encircling him. “Tell me why you are here.”

He sat stark still and proud. “You should know. Your people drug me down here.” He sat back against the chairs’ metal backing, confident in his reply until it was met with silence. He grew uneasy. Only the light clicks of her black patent stilettos on the concrete floor permeated the cool hush of the dark paneled room. He caught a glimpse of her raised eyebrow as she circled him, raking her hand across his broad shoulders. He inhaled her perfume as she passed.

Thumbing through his file, Sydney leaned against the table’s edge studying his notes like prey, biting her bottom lip in apparent concentration. Mr. X was a handsome alpha male, the arrogant high powered blue-eyed blond-haired Wall Street type who surrounded themselves with ‘yes’ men for validation and employed expensive cologne to mask the stench of self-loathing and inadequacy.

She made him wait, knowing the deafening silence fueled his insecurities.

Impatient, he began to rustle about, imagining sucking her lip until she moaned; if it pleased her. He had believed the stories of her abilities yet here it was, only minutes into the scene and he was beginning to give way. There was a magnetic element in her indifference that promised comfort upon full surrender, it demanded unchallenged conformity to her will. His desire for her swelled; he needed to touch her.

Still. Sydney made him wait just a few seconds longer. Finally, his heart began to race as she closed his file and sat, legs crossed in front of him; her deep penetrating eyes spoke of her dissatisfied with her findings.

“I’m not going to play games with you. I know what you’re up to, now you will tell me how you’re managed to get away with it for so long.” Sydney remarked. “How many people have you deceived?” Her patient voice both unsettled and excited Mr. X.

“You don’t know me,” he shook his head.

“I know you better than you think.”

Abruptly, Mr. X stood angrily, “I’m leaving. You’ve had your fun.”

“Sit down! You have not been excused,” Sydney stood; her sharp cat-like eyes met his for the first time, not breaking eye contact until he sat averting his gaze. Clearly, his impetuous behavior had upset her. Seeing his cold demeanor was crumbling, Sydney instinctively knew this wasn’t a call for discipline; Mr. X sought redemption.

She lifted his face in her hand, calmly studying him; allowing him to study her. Their expressions softened; all was forgiven. A nearly inaudible sigh escaped his lip as Sydney turned as if to leave the room then stopped short but did not face him.

“I will tell you the story of my first love.” Sydney told him, her alluring voice left him fixed. “His name was Will. We began dating as teenagers and loved one another dearly. We were inseparable, spending all of our time together and sharing our most intimate secrets. However, Will was troubled; there were gaps in his past that he refused to share with me,” she slowly unbuttoned her jacket.

His gaze followed the jacket as it glided from her silky brown shoulders and off her long arms; catching a breath when, finally, her barbarous physique was revealed.

Sydney’s melodic voice whirled around him, soothing his worries and easing his mind. She would bear his guilt, his demons stirring in his loins. In this space she wasn’t judging him; there was no right or wrong answer, only her will. She expected nothing of him except utter devotion; in her happiness he would find his own. The growing erection trapped in the confines of his trousers begged to worship her, begged for her to release his demons, begged her to make him beg. Mr. X sat, he brow twitching as each of her words chipped away at his fortitude. His pulse increased as Sydney began walking back towards him, placing her jacket on her chair.

“I see my Will in you,” Sydney remarked, her voice low and seductive as ran her hand from his chest and around his shoulders. “Will wanted to tell me what weighted him down but he couldn’t.” she stood behind him, her scent causing him to melt. “He wouldn’t allow me to unburden him,” Placing a tender hand on his forehead, she eased his head back against her torso until she felt him sigh; giving way.

Feeling her hand methodically unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, he gasped and relaxed letting her voice cast its spell. “I loved Will. I would have shouldered his worries for him,” she said close to his ear, unbuttoning the last button and sliding the shirt off his body. Bring his arms behind him as if to remove the shirt, she instead leaves it to hang from his wrist and continues to talk, distracting him from her weaving the fabric through the back of the chair, effectively securing him in place.

“I could have helped Will the same way I can help you,” Sydney stood rubbing his temples. “Do you want my help?”

“Yes,” Mr. X moaned.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he corrected.

“Very good. If you want me to heal you, you will find your redemption in servicing me. If you service me well, you will be forgiven. If not, then you will disappoint me and be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress. I don’t want to disappoint you.” He says earnestly. Sydney placed a calm hand on his chest, he breathed into it, relaxing once more.

“I know you don’t. You have pleased me. What will your reward be?”

He head was cloudy; thinking for himself had become foreign. “Whatever pleases you, I will perform.”

Unsurprised, she’d been able to break Mr. X under record time, a soft smile curled Sydney’s lips. “Very well. Let us begin,” motioning to #3 who had been watching the scene via monitor. She quickly arrived. “You will wash my feet. My assistants will prepare you.” 


                                              ***********


“You’re an arrogant bitch!” Mark walked over to the seminude female who was strapped to a chair. He inspected her closely, too close, she could feel his heat. Panting heavily, her eyes rolled back into her head. He gripped her face. “Don’t you dare.” he growled through clenched teeth.

“You’re not so tough now, are you?” he asked. She weakly shook her head. “What color are you?”

She slumped forward and didn’t answer. Mark pulled her head backwards looking for signs of distress; there were none, only the unmistakable glow of licentious pleasure.

“What color are you?” he repeated firmly.

“Green, Sir.” Her lips quivered. “Can I please cum, Sir?”

“Do you think you deserve it?” She shook head, her lips pinched tightly. “No, you don’t deserve it. Maybe next time, if it pleases me,” Mark untied her arms and legs, and then brushed her blond hair back from her moist beet red face. “You will wait, is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” She said as Mark wrapped her shaky body in a warm blanket and gently positioned her in his arms as he sat cradling her as she began to drop. Slowly but surly, her breathing returned to norm as she fell back within herself; Mark’s words of reassurance comforting her landing.

This quiet time benefited them both. Mark needed time to come down from his adrenaline high while tending to the client’s wellbeing and they both needed to exchanged a mutual affirmation that something special was created and shared; there was no need of shame. Mark’s affection was sought and granted; bring their experience to a close. Ever-patient, Mark sat with her until she was able to manage on her own. 


                                               ***********


Physically drained from his last client, Mark stumbled into his flat and marched straight to the shower without checking his phone messages. They didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Sydney had phoned, she was coming over after her last appointment. This would be their first time seeing one another in the six months since their initial meeting. They had kept in contact through email and the occasional phone conversation however meeting had proven difficult; both knew the risk involved when two Ds become sexually involved. One would eventually have to submit; neither of them was willingly to go that far. Though unspoken, this was the driving factor that kept them a part, the need for distance.

But Mark couldn’t get Sydney off of his mind. Their connection left an indubitable impression on him. Competition aside, she was his hedonistic equal in passion and wit. They understood the others need for absolute control; willingly giving a little of themselves for the others perversity as some called it. Though unspoken, this was the driving factor that kept them a part, the need for distance. Their first meeting had cumulated into a feeding frenzy. In one another’s presence, their resistance was down however tonight, Mark was determined to fend out his animalistic urges to fuck her brains out.

It was half past seven o’clock when Mark stepped from the shower. He’d barely had time to towel off when the doorbell rang. He checked himself once more in the mirror before opening the door. As soon as their eyes met both knew they were in trouble. The slant of Sydney’s warm eyes triggered an immediate state of arousal in Mark’s groin. Sydney faired no better, her stomach flipped at the sight of the eyes that had stared back up at her while nested between her thighs.

“Hi!” She drew a hot, sharp breath but played it off by hugging him tightly.

“How are you? You look great,” Mark said undeceived by her friendly excitement. He was going to screw her through the floorboards one way or another. “Come on in.” he took her jacket and purse.

“You have a nice place. I’m impressed with your style,” she remarked taking in Mark’s impeccable taste in classic furnishings. Not the dungeon she’d expected.

“Really?” he stood beside her trying not to pounce without provocation. “Well, thanks. I don’t really spend a lot of time enjoying it I suppose.” His seductive smile beckoned her to flirt with disaster but his eyes sealed her fate. “I was thinking about…”

Before he could finish his sentence Sydney kissed him with such intensity she nearly knocked him over. He returned her sentiment by gripping her ass and lifting her to his waist.

“Oh God, are we going to do this again?” Sydney said coming up for air.

Mark inhaled deeply. “Fuck yeah,” he released her hair from its bun and ran his powerful hand through it, pulling it as he continued sucking and kissing her mouth.

Taking long strikes, he carried her in position to his bedroom and began removing her clothing. “I believe its my turn to undress you,”

Stepping back, Sydney sucked her bottom lip, giving him full access to her. Every inch of her burned for him. Mark began kissing her again more sensuous than forceful. She began having second thoughts about repentance that were quickly replaced with a shivering enthusiasm as she felt his fingers gliding her thong down her legs. In a matter of seconds he’d completely disrobed them both. Try as she might and rather disappointed, Sydney couldn’t get a full view of Mark’s nude body, the one she’d fantasized about since their last meeting.

His eyes met hers. “What’s wrong? Mark asked.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” She returned his smile bashfully.

He stood broad-shouldered and wrapped her in his arms, their lips melting together again, tilting her backwards onto the bed where they continued kissing, his taut muscular body leaning over her; she waited anxiously to feel him inside of her. His lips on her neck sent a shock through her, coming to rest in her between her thighs. Sydney moaned, her chest heaved upward as his tongue brushed her erect nipple. He sucked and reached down below her mound and lower still until he felt the unmistakable wetness of her.

“Damn baby, you’re tight. How long has it been?” he asked. Her legs buckled slightly as he worked two fingers into her

“You, you were the last one. Oooohhh,” she cried.

“Were you saving yourself for me?” he glided against her g-spot once. “Answer me, Sydney. Were you saving yourself?”

She struggled to breathe. “Yes,”

“You are so beautiful, Sydney. I saved myself for you as well.” he murmured into her nipple, and took it gently in his teeth. Sydney pressed a hand back against the headboard and gasped as she watched his full lips kiss their way decisively down her body, his fingers coaxing her near orgasm. Without a word, Mark buried his face between her legs, licking her with long drawn out movements, feeding in her like a feral cat until Sydney lay speechless getting tongue-twiddled to orgasm by a man whose natural talent for eating her pussy manifested themselves in her trembles and cries. It reached crescendo when Mark began flicking his tongue with rapid, erratic motions, coaxing her to climax repeatedly, sucking and licking; flicking and pumping.

“Mark, don’t stop, please,” she moaned as he sucked her pussy lips. “Suck my…ooohhh”

Before she could complete her thought, Mark descended on her clit, gently sucking it until she screamed. And he savored every drop, licking her lips clean before moving atop her. She kissed his lip, the taste of her pussy still lingering. Mark moaned as Sydney eased his cock into her.

"Oh God, oh God," she hissed, his hips driving any thoughts of control out of her mind. She was beyond thinking; all she could think of was his large cock stretching her pussy open, his thickness moving like an oil drill effectively pinning her to the bed.

“Oh shit, Sydney,” Mark said, practically fucking her into the headboard. Sydney braced her other hand behind her. His physical strength and powerful thrust weakened her; she wanted to cum, she needed him to make her cum.
 
She needed him to beg for it.

He groaned slightly, the first sound he’d made since entering her. He pulled her legs up over her shoulders and drilled until his breathing became ragged. Mark felt Sydney’s pussy tighten around him and heard it calling for relief from his brutal attack. Sydney lay locked in his stare, Mark was on the verge of ripping her in two; the fact that she wasn’t pleading for him to stop spurred him on. Before long the room was filled with guttural moans and cries; screams of inflamed agony and passion.

Mark’s rhythm steadily increased, she nodded in approval, and then, despite her best effort, Sydney did the unthinkable, she begged.

“Please, please make me cum,” her words sent Mark into overdrive. She gripped his face, eyes locked; kissing him as his cum shot into her with such force it left him weak and shaken.

They smiled silently to one another as Mark, begrudgingly, slid free of her, and then pulled her close. Minutes passed as they both lay in amazement; neither thinking clearly.

“Holy shit!!!” Mark finally muttered.