I flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Ready, sexy."
We walked out arm in arm to wait for our clients.
My first client was a white guy named Steve. His profile stated that he was some hot-shot defense attorney that loved eating pussy. All that domination in the courtroom didn’t bleed into his personal life apparently.
He was a submissive with a praise and degradation kink. That was perfect. I loved the idea of dominating a white man. My pussy thumped in anticipation. I was looking forward to having fun with Steve.
When he walked into the themed BDSM room, I was ready for him. I was dressed in a black leather one piece, with matching thigh-high boots. The smile on his face was instant when he saw me. But as soon as the door closed, I was on his ass.
He was about to walk towards me as I sat cross-legged on the black leather armchair, but I stopped him in his tracks. "Did I say you could walk over here, peasant?"
He stopped at once. "I'm so sorry," he apologized weakly, his tone already reverting to one of submission.
"You will be sorry if you don't get on your knees and crawl to me," I demanded.
Steve dropped to his knees without hesitation. He began to crawl.
"Slower," I commanded.
He slowed his crawl the second I said it, hands moving carefully across the floor. His eyes stayed locked on me, eager and desperate. When he was at my feet, he looked up at me eyes full of lust and yearning. I stared at him, not saying a word. Letting him wait patiently like a good boy for my next command.
I leaned forward slightly in the chair, resting my elbow on the armrest and letting my chin settle into my palm as I studied him like he was something I’d found on the bottom of my shoe.
“Look at you,” I said coolly. “A whole grown man. Expensive suit, fancy job… crawling on the floor like a bitch in heat.”
His breath hitched. “Yes, ma’am.”
I lifted a brow. “Did I ask you to speak?”
His mouth snapped shut. I uncrossed my legs slowly and planted the heel of my boot against his shoulder, nudging him back just a little. “Eyes down.” He dropped his gaze right away. “Good boy.” That little praise made his shoulders relax for a second before I tapped his chin with the tip of my boot. “Don’t get comfortable,” I added sharply. "You may speak."
“Yes, ma’am. I'll do better.”
I stood, circling him slowly. Steve stayed exactly where he was, kneeling with his hands resting on his thighs, waiting for whatever I decided next. The red lighting cast shadows along the walls, the leather and metal fixtures around the room gleaming softly.
I stopped in front of him again. I tilted my head slightly. “Tell me something, Steve…”
His eyes lifted just slightly before he caught himself and looked down again. “Yes, ma’am?”
I leaned down until my voice was right by his ear. “Why do men like you come into rooms like this… just to be told how small and inconsequential you are?”
He shivered. “Because men should always submit to women,” he said quietly. "I defend criminals daily. I deserve to be punished for that."
I straightened slowly, watching him. Interesting answer. A small smiled pulled at my mouth. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” I murmured. I walked back toward the chair and sat again. “Stay exactly where you are,” I said lazily.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I slowly lifted one leg and placed it on the arm of the chair. Steve's breathing quickened just a bit. I did the same to the other. His mouth parted in anticipation. "Are you hungry?" I asked seductively.
He nodded quickly, licking his lips. "Famished ma'am."
"Do you wish to be fed, Steve?"
"Please," he whimpered. "Please let me feast, ma'am."
I wanted to laugh. He was practically drooling at the idea. "Why should I let you taste this good pussy?" I demanded. "Why do you deserve it?"
"I don't deserve to taste your sweet nectar, ma'am," he rushed out, "I'm not worthy, but with your permission, I will make you cum as many times as you can handle."
