“No! No it’s not, I…” Michael’s lips blabbered some protest away, but his eyes betrayed him, full of lust and weakness. This was going to be fun!
Zoey cocked her head to the side and put on her most patronizing voice.
“No? No you don’t want the strange woman to spank you?”
Michael crossed his legs. Zoey pointed to his crotch, where a tent was rapidly being pitched.
“Your little friend seems to want it,” she said.
“He does?”
“That’s right, Michael, he seems to think that’s what you need,” Zoey said.
“I…”
“The safe word is red, you say that and I’ll stop. Got that?”
“Yes,” Michael said in a small voice. “R-red, got it.”
“Now what do you want to do?” she said. Michael was well and truly eager. It was almost too easy.
“Wh-wha… I… um…”
The dominatrix sighed in annoyance.
“Come on, use your words!” She said, irritated. “You’re a grown ass man sitting in a stranger’s apartment with a hard on. Tell me what you want to happen.”
“Oh.”
“‘Oh’ is right,” Zoey said, leaning in further. She was inches away from him now, he was staring down her chest.
“I-I’m sorry,” Michael put his hands up, backing off.
“Don’t apologize,” Zoey snapped.
“S-sorry-”
“I said don’t fucking apologize!” Zoey spat venomously, talking over him. “How can I respect a man who turns into a stammering moron on a dime? Hmm?”
She paused for effect. For a few moments, the room was silent save for the sound of their breathing. The woman’s gaze was intense, locked on him. She’d put good money on it being the first time a woman had stared at him like this.
Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, the woman cut him off.
“Are you here to waste my time?” she asked, her voice low and angry. “Well? It’s a simple question. Are. You. Here. To waste my fucking time?”
Michael’s mouth blabbed open and shut.
“Answer me bitch! I charge $3000 an hour. My time is valuable, understood?”
“Y-yes ma’am.”
“Good boy. So now you have two choices,” Zoey said, adding a dash of extra contempt to her voice. “Either you can fuck off, out of my studio and out of my sight. Or you can take your clothes off and we can get started.”
“I should leave,” Michael said, swallowing. He glanced behind him at the door. Zoey sat back.
“Go on then,” she said, gesturing towards the door. “You know the way out. You can always leave now, forget ever meeting me, cut your losses. I’ll keep the deposit but I won’t charge you for the five minutes of my life you wasted, and you can go home and enjoy your shitty, pathetic marriage.
“Or… you can take off that fucking suit and let me work my magic.”
Silence once again dominated the room. Michael squirmed in his seat.
“I chose magic,” he said softly, eventually, barely managing to look at her. Zoey grinned.
“Oh, I think I’m gonna like you,” she said. “You made the right choice.”
Without being told again, Michael’s hands instinctively went to the buttons of his shirt.
“That’s it, undress for me,” Zoey chuckled, leaning back. Slowly but surely, Michael began to strip off his clothes. The dominatrix couldn’t help but laugh harder.
“Get naked for me you pathetic cunt!” she cackled. Michael paused, staring at her, almost hurt. Poor man. Didn’t know whether to cry or jerk off. Zoey waved away his concern.
“Oh I’m not going to hold back, sunshine,” she said. “That’s it, keep unbuttoning that shirt with that adorable, innocent look on your face.”
Zoey already felt herself grow aroused. She liked watching a man peel out of a business suit. In fact, the only thing she liked more is watching a man put his suit back on after she’d finished with him.
He stood up to remove his pants and Zoey got a better look at his form, out of that frumpy suit. It wasn’t bad. He certainly wasn’t shredded and had more than the hint of a gut, but he looked sturdy and seemed to have kept himself in shape.
Idly, she found herself biting her lip, watching him hungrily. It hadn’t taken much in the end for him to strip off in front of a stranger. Perhaps his marriage really was on the brink. He was just unlucky she wasn’t some ditsy paralegal at a bar, looking for an older man. This wasn’t going to be an affair; this was going to be something much better.
When he got to sliding his briefs down his thighs, Michael became more delicate, trying to hide his manhood. Zoey slapped his hand away.
“No, don’t cover yourself!” she snapped, admiring the semi-erect form of his cock. Sprouting from a mess of pubic hair, it wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. It was thick, thicker than it probably should be for the length it was, and curved slightly to the left. The head was rather flat. Below it, his balls hung ungainly, shaven smooth.
“T-t-this is a mistake,” the man stammered. Zoey didn’t take her eyes off his cock. It was growing as she watched, more and more blood flowing to the tip.
“A mistake?” She said with mock concern. “Awh, what was a mistake, sweetheart? I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“T-this…” was all he could manage. He still hadn’t tried to hide his cock again, once she’d slapped his hand away.
“Oh, this was a mistake, I see… you just wanted a therapist, is that it?” Zoey chucked. “What do you think a dominatrix is, sweetheart?”
“I’m just not sure how my wife would feel about this, that’s all,” Michael replied, finally moving to pull his briefs back up. Zoey grabbed his wrist.
“I don’t give a fuck how your wife would feel,” she snapped. “You came to me, you need my help, because I can see now that you are truly lost. If you weren’t, would you have stripped off in a stranger’s apartment?”
“I-I guess not.”
“Exactly. You need to be taught a lesson, and I suspect it’s been a long time coming,” Zoey smiled, standing up. “I’m glad you came to me today. I think you need it. Now show me the goods! Hands by your sides, now!”
He did as she was told. He was naturally submissive, truly.
“Now that’s a nice-looking cock you’ve got there. Mind if I…” She grabbed his cock without warning. “…touch it?” Zoey chuckled. “My, my, it’s so hard for me already!”
Zoey started to stroke his cock, enjoying the way he squirmed, the feeling of his manhood, his masculinity, in her hand, the little moans and groans he made.
“Are you sure this was a mistake, darling?” she said. “Tell me, does your wife do this for you? Does she stroke your cock?”
Michael let out a groan, but didn’t reply. Zoey ran a finger along his cheek.
“I don’t think she does… that’s why you came to me…” she said, seductively. “How long’s it been since your wife touched you like this? Since she smelled your hair, and nibbled on your ear? How long since she kissed you on the collarbone, or ran a hand up your chest…how long even since she fucked you?”
“I…” was all Michael managed.
“I know men like you,” Zoey continued. “I know what you need. You’re desperate for a woman’s touch.”
She kissed his chest, before whispering in his ear. “Desperate for a woman’s kiss…” Desperate just to have a woman’s attention…”
Michael moaned in pleasure and Zoey grinned, squeezing his cock.
“But I’m not a woman to you, do you understand? I’m a goddess. I’m your goddess,” she said, squeezing his cock harder. “Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes,” Michael gasped.
Zoey let go of his rock-hard cock and gripped his balls.
“Yes, what?” she hissed.
“Yes ma’am…”
“No, you say “yes goddess” you dumb fucking cunt, understand?” Zoey replied angrily. Michael flinched. “I’ve got your balls in the palm of my hand, I’m not some common mistress, I’m…”
She calmed herself, smiling serenely. “…your goddess. Are we clear?”
“Y-yes goddess,” the man said.
“Good boy!” Zoey chuckled.
Letting go of his balls, she gave his scrotum a few gentle slaps. He flinched.
“I’m glad we came to an understanding,” she said. “I think we’re going to work well together, don’t you?”
“Yes goddess,” Michael nodded.
“Oh good boy!” Zoey said in her patronizing voice. “You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? And that cock is just rock hard after I squeezed those poor balls! It isn’t as if you liked it, is it?”
“I… I did like it goddess,” Michael replied. He was blushing. She was impressed with his honesty.
“Oh you do?” Zoey gasped in mock surprise. “You like your goddess stroking your cock?”
She started stroking his cock again.
“Spit on your cock for me,” She said. He gave it a feeble attempt, spit barely dribbling past his lips, hanging down and finding a nest in his chest hair. He tried again, missing his cock and just spraying spit on the floor. Zoey slapped his cock.
“Oh no, no, no,” She said, as he attempted a third time. “Don’t get it all over my lovely clean floor. Spit right onto your cock, that’s it.”
“That’s a good boy,” Zoey said, stroking his now-lubricated cock once again. “Get it all nice and wet for me…”
Michael seemed proud of himself for getting it right. The smile plastered on his face seemed genuine. Zoey laughed.
“Who’s a good boy? Who is? Yes, that’s right, you are!” She chuckled. “You’re my good little boy, aren’t you? Yes you are! Tell me bitch, do you talk to your wife? And I don’t mean inane chitter chatter about groceries and who’s cooking dinner, I mean do you talk to her about sex. About your relationship, about your needs and wants and desires. Maybe even hers.”
When he didn’t answer, she dropped her chit-chat in an instant, slapping him across the face.
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