An adult stories – The Mix Up by Clara_Bejeweled,Clara_Bejeweled Zoey sang softly to herself as she made her way over to the apartment’s console. She was wearing a nightgown and her favorite lingerie.
Her body is curvy and buxom, with a confidence that she liked to say radiated from every inch of her being. She wore only the most luxurious, expensive lingerie that hugged her figure in all the right places. Some would say she was ‘thicc’, others Amazonian. But they all wanted her.
She exuded an unapologetic self-assurance and confidence that some might call vanity, but to her, it was just self-awareness. She knew her worth; she was six foot-four, a giant of a woman. Men paid extra for that. Men paid her handsomely to show them their place.
Handsomely enough that she could afford her own downtown studio. She was an artist, after all. The studio consisted of three rooms; an antechamber she was in, a main playroom, and a bathroom. The antechamber was small and discreet, with only a few pieces of furniture and a kitchenette in the corner for coffee and tea. A low table stood at the side of the room, beneath a window, adorned with a vase of fresh flowers and a few tasteful magazines. The walls were bare, save for a single painting, a moody abstract piece in shades of black and gray. It was a small antechamber outside the main room, where she could meet with clients and discuss their needs.
As Zoey made her way to the console, she couldn’t help but hum along to the tune she had been singing to herself. It was a song from her youth and it never failed to put her in a good mood. Fiona Apple’s Criminal. What a tune. It made her feel sexy.
“I’ve been a bad, bad girl,” she mused. “I’ve been careless with a delicate man…”
The buzzer went again — clients were always impatient. Rolling her eyes, Zoey pressed the button.
“Yes?” She said playfully into the receiver. She heard a man clear his throat. They were always nervous the first time. Impatient and nervous.
“It’s… it’s Michael,” the man croaked.
“Hey there handsome!” she giggled.
“Ah… c-can I come in?”
“Yes, yes, come on up! I’ll just buzz you in.”
After pressing the button, Zoey made her way over the door, glancing in a mirror to ensure she still looked great. She did. She could hear Michael making his way up the stairs to her apartment.
Grinning, she unlocked the deadbolt first, then the chain lock, and finally the sliding latch that secured the door to the frame. The sound of the locks being undone was a familiar one, one that she had grown used to over the years in her chosen profession. You can never be too careful when your job involves meeting strange men every day.
There, puffing as if he’d just rushed up the stairs, was Michael. Her 4pm. In her six-inch heels she towered over him and he gawped at her height. He himself was of average height, with a build that could best be described as unremarkable. His face was ordinary, with the remnants of a strong jawline in his youth, and a straight nose, but nothing about his features stood out. Eyes were blue, or were they green? His hair was a shade of brown you’d forget the moment you looked away, neatly combed and parted to the side. He was aged in his forties, bags under his eyes, a slouch slowly getting the better of him, grey hair mingling at his temples.
He wore a plain, dark suit that seemed to have been tailored to fit his unremarkable physique. He had some money then; but it was neither expensive nor shabby, instead rather unassuming, like something he had worn for years without ever giving it much thought. A gift perhaps? Something a wife might have picked out? His shoes were black and polished, with a slight scuff on the left toe that hinted at a life of unglamorous routine. He had the look and feel of someone who wiled away their days in an office, under harsh white light. The lifeblood of a city such as this.
He’d sent her an email, asking for a session the next week. Hadn’t asked many questions at all. Paid the deposit promptly. She’d had a background check ran on him of course. One didn’t get far in her line of work without safety being a priority. He’d come up clean, but you can never be too safe.
The background check had been conducted by her PI, an old flame’s father and ex-cop. He’d ended up being a better fuck than his son. The search, like they always do, began with a search of public records. There was little to be found in terms of criminal history or financial trouble, but there were a few mentions of a Michael with the same last name being involved in various community organizations and churches over the years. Nothing that stood out as particularly noteworthy, but it was something. He was a community minded fellow, stridently middle-class, as middle American as you could get.
The next step was to search social media. Michael had a profile on Facebook, but it was set to private. A quick search of his name turned up a few other social media profiles, but they were either outdated or unused. It seemed that Michael was not one for social media. Zoey was glad he wasn’t one of those middle-aged men with a car selfie for their profile picture and far too much to say. No divorce records, he was still married to the lovely Amanda — Mandy, as her Facebook said. A few kids in college.
Her PI then turned to employment records. It was confirmed that Michael had indeed worked in an office for the past fifteen years, first as an entry-level employee straight out of college and then working his way up to a mid-level management position. Funnily enough, it was the same office that another one of her clients worked at. There were no disciplinary actions on record and no red flags in terms of performance reviews. In other words, boring.
Boring men made the best clients.
“Welcome!” Zoey said, leaning forward and wrapping Michael in a hug. When she pulled back, she could see the lust in his eyes are the mere scent of her perfume. “Come on in. I’ve been expecting you. Just in here thanks. How was the traffic?”
“Pretty average,” Michael shrugged. He hadn’t yet made eye contact.
“Terrible down that Allens Avenue, isn’t it?”
“The-the city should do something about it.”
“They really should, I agree.”
“You’re… you’re taller than I expected, you know,” Michael said nervously. “A-and prettier. I don’t know why, but I was expecting someone… older.”
“Why thankyou.”
“That nightgown is… is it appropriate to wear?”
“You’re in my studio, aren’t you?”
“Are those ropes on the ceiling?”
“You’ll find out later if you’re lucky.” Zoey said. Although the ropes in the antechamber were more for decoration than anything else. The real fun was behind a door. But he didn’t know that.
“Oh.”
“So what do you think of my nightgown?” Zoey teased, setting herself down in a chair, and crossing her legs, giving the man an ample glimpse of thigh. She saw him swallow. Soon he’d be sweating.
“It… it looks very comfortable,”
“Pure silk. I only wear the best for my clients,” she said.
“I… you look wonderful,” Michael said, trying to glance anywhere but Zoey’s legs.
“Compliments will get you everywhere. Have a seat. Are you married?”
Michael paused before settling himself down on the end of the sofa, opposite Zoey’s chair.
“I am. Does… does that make a difference?”
“No, no. Not at all. Don’t worry, a lot of my clients are married. Would you like tea, or coffee? I love making sure my newest clients feel relaxed before their first session.”
“I’m fine thankyou.”
“No? Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Great, well, we can get straight into it. If I may ask, how did you hear about me? I don’t advertise so I always like to hear how people find me.”
“I ah… Tom told me.”
“Oh, Tom! Yes, yes. He’s been a client of mine for a long time. Comes to see me once a week, bless him. You know, I never thought he’d recommend me!” she laughed. “I must be doing something right. Do you work with him?”
“For ten years.”
“He’s a nice guy, isn’t he? Sometimes he brings me flowers, he gave me those,” she replied, pointing to a vase on the coffee table. “Pretty, aren’t they?”
“Isn’t that unethical?”
“Unethical?” she laughed. “Darling, they’re just flowers. And hey, I’m not the one who walked in and complimented me on my outfit.”
Michael didn’t reply. He smiled, shuffling uneasily in his seat.
“So, what did you have in mind for today’s session?” Zoey smiled. “I have ideas of course, but it’s always better if the client has an idea of what they want coming in to a session, so we’re on the same page.”
“I… I thought we could talk about my wife’s spending habits, I’ve been unhappily married for a long time. To be honest, I’m reaching the end of my-”
“Your wife’s what?” Zoey laughed, awkwardly. “I’m sorry, but what the do you think this is?”
“Tom said it’d help with my marriage…”
“I don’t give a fuck about your wife. I’m not here to listen to you prattle on about her. You’re unhappily married? Don’t bitch about it to me.”
“I’m not sure I like your tone, young lady.”
“Look, there seems to have been a misunderstanding, I’m not a psychiatrist, not some fucking pompous shrink,” she said. “I’m a dominatrix.”
Michael’s jaw dropped. He stared at her.
“A-a dominatrix?” he stammered, almost laughing.
“Didn’t you wonder why this therapy session cost so much?” Zoey laughed. “$600 deposit? Men don’t pay me to hand them tissues, they pay me to hurt them.”
“I…”
“So when you said in your email that you were potentially interested in CBT… you meant cognitive behavioral therapy? That’s disappointing.”
“Tom…”
“I can’t believe Tom didn’t tell you!” she laughed in disbelief. “What a fucking asshole! I’m going to have to punish him this week. You know, he loves to be beaten…”
As she spoke, she paused, her hand coming up to her chin as she seemed lost in thought. The room was silent for a few moments, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning.
“You know…” Zoey said, biting her lip. “Maybe that’s why he suggested me. Maybe he thinks this what you need…
“What are you talking about?”
“Is that what you need?” Zoey leaned in, letting the nightgown slip, and giving the man across from her a generous view of her cleavage. “A good hard spanking…”
“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.
“Answer the fucking question,” the dominatrix growled.
“N-n-not really,” he replied.
“I thought not. That’s why you’ve come to another woman to bitch and complain because you can’t tell her what you really want,” Zoey said, stroking his cock, long, hard strokes, from the base to the head.
“I-I thought I was going to see a therapist…” he said.
“Oh I know you thought you were coming to a therapist, but what does that matter?
You still arrived on my doorstep ready, in your mind, to bitch and whine and complain, and all this time you could have been talking to that poor, sweet fucking wife of yours.”
Michael just groaned as she stroked his cock. His hands were still firmly at his sides.
“You don’t need marriage counselling; you just need someone to teach you how to fucking communicate!” Zoey laughed. Stop being such a little bitch! Tell her what you fucking want! You need me, you pathetic little cunt, I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in this throbbing, rock-hard cock, and the way your ass cheeks clench when I touch you…”
“I…”
“You thought I wouldn’t notice? Honey, I’ve had half an eye on your ass since I knew I was going to spank the thing! Don’t act innocent you little fucking bitch. You’re not innocent. Your wife might be. She’s too sweet, isn’t she? She’s a virtuous little cunt who doesn’t know what you really need — to be put in your place.”
“No, I-”
“How could she?” Zoey continued, ignoring him. “It’s not like you tell her what you need. No, I can see that in your face, too… you’re too scared, is that it? Huh? Spineless?”
“What?”
“Say it. Say you’re spineless. Say, “I’m a spineless little worm, Goddess’,” Zoey said. When he didn’t reply, she slapped him across the face. “Now.”
“I… I’m a spineless little w-worm, goddess,” Michael stammered, eyes wide.
“That’s right,” Zoey smirked. “You’re a pathetic, needy, groveling, spineless little worm… too scared to open your mouth to ask for what you need.”
She reached out and brushed his cheek again.
“It’s all right, though, baby… it really is,” she said, softly. “That’s what your Goddess is here for — to put you in your place and show you how to be a man. Because you clearly never learned!”
“I guess so, goddess,” Michael said, swallowing.
“Well I’m here to teach you that fucking lesson, understand? I’m going to teach you how to be a fucking man,”
“Thankyou goddess,” he replied. Zoey rolled her eyes.
“Turn around. I’m taking off my nightgown,” she said. Without hesitating, Michael did as he was told and turned around. He was going to see everything anyway, but she enjoyed his obedience.
In one smooth motion, Zoey took off the nightgown and tossed it onto an arm of the chair.
“Now you can look, you little bitch,” she said. Zoey always liked it when she was in control of when men looked. It made her feel powerful, and was quite addictive; having a man’s eyes cloud with lust at her command. It made her feel even sexier than the expensive La Perla lingerie she had on.
They all loved her body. The way her legs seemed unnaturally long, the way her hips slid into a surprisingly slim waist for a woman her size. She looked like a pin-up model that should be gracing the side of a WW2 bomber, winking at men in their dreams; but here she was, as real as they were.
Michael was no different. The way he sucked in air at every inch she exposed she knew she had him like a deer in headlights.
“You… you look like a dream, goddess,” Michael said.
“Oh I see, this is your dream, isn’t it?” Zoey laughed. “Being dominated by a sexy, half-naked woman? It’s all your dreams come true! You see my lingerie — expensive lingerie, I might add — and you feel a shiver up your spine, don’t you?”
“Y-yes, goddess.”
“And I bet my stockings are making your cock throb, aren’t they cunt?” She said, grabbing his cock.
“Oh yes they are! Damn that’s a throbbing cock! And to think I’ve been…”
She slapped his cock, slapping it again and again each gap in her sentence.
“…slapping… and… squeezing… your… poor… cock. It just gets harder, doesn’t it?”
He was harder than she thought he could be, his cock was bulging, straining against itself. The head was purple, veins were popping out of the shaft. She wrapped her fingers around it and began to stroke once more.
“You like it when I slap your cock; you’re a naughty little boy, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” she said.
“Y-yes,” Michael groaned in pleasure.
“Yes you are! Good boy. And what about those balls? Don’t think I’ve forgotten them,” Zoey added, roughly grabbing his ballsack. Michael flinched, but yet again his hands didn’t move from his sides.
“How does the feel? To have another woman gripping your balls? What would your wife think?”
Michael didn’t reply, simply staring straight ahead and inhaling, taking short, sharp breaths.
“What happens if I squeeze?” Zoey continued. “You liked it the first time…”
She closed her hand to a fist, squeezing harder than she had before. She felt each of his balls distinctly in her palm; enjoying the way they felt as she tightened her grip. Michael grimaced in pain.
“P-please,” he gasped.
“Oh?” Zoey said. “What’s that?”
“Please let go of my balls,” Michael gasped. Zoey frowned.
“Did you say harder goddess?”
“No, please…” he said, frantically.
“My pleasure!” Zoey laughed, tightening her grip further.
“Fuck!” Michael exclaimed. Tears pooled at the corner of his eyes.
“Awh! Don’t cry!” Zoey laughed, letting go of his balls and starting to stroke his cock again. “It’s okay! Did I hurt you? Did I hurt you when I squeezed your balls?”
Her client’s head dropped.
“Yes goddess,” he said sheepishly. His cock was as hard as ever. It almost looked angry.
“Well that’s too bad!” Zoey laughed. “Come with me, cunt.”
Zoey began to lead him in circles around the room, gripping his cock tightly.
“Stop your whining!” she laughed. “Some men like being led around by their cock. Usually I would take a client straight to my playroom, but…” Zoey chuckled. “Seeing as you wanted a fucking therapist, I thought my sofa would be fitting.”
Zoey sat down, falling into the sofa’s embrace. She let out a long sigh.
“Ah, that’s better! I have just been on my feet all day!” she said, soaking in ‘Well don’t just stand there awkwardly! Get on your fucking knees!”
Michael followed her instructions quickly, just about scrambling to kneel in front of her. His obedience aroused her. She bit her lower lip.
“Good boy! You’re a little natural, aren’t you?”
“Yes goddess, thankyou goddess,” he said quickly, nodding his head. She laughed.
“Do you like my shoes, cunt?” she said, rolling her foot. Six inch stiletto heels, for when just being tall wasn’t enough. “You’re glad I kept them on, aren’t you?”
Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off them. “I… I do, I am, goddess,” he stammered, gaze fixed on her feet.
“Does your wife wear heels like these?”
“N-no… no she doesn’t,” Michael said softly.
“That’s too bad,” she said. Michael’s lips were dry, she saw his tongue dart out to wet them. Smirking, she pointed her toes towards him and he mirrored the move, edging ever so slightly closer.
“Take a good, long look at my shoes, that’s it, lean in closer,” Zoey teased. “As close as you can get. Smell them. Kiss them.”
He didn’t have to be asked twice, before he was kissing her shoes, dragging his wet lips across them, leaving glistening streaks. He was clay in her hands, seeing his submission sent a wave of fiery lust through her.
“They’re filthy, aren’t they? Disgusting. But that’s where you come in. You’re going to lick my boots clean, whilst telling me all about this lovely wife of yours,” Zoey said.
Michael paused, staring at her. Strands of saliva hung from his lips to her shoes. He looked like an idiot. He looked pathetic — and nothing made her wetter.
“Go on, worship my boots you pathetic little cunt,” she said encouragingly, and before long he was licking her boots as if someone had lit a fire under his ass. This unassuming middle manager was just a submissive little bitch.
“That’s it, good boy! What a man you are, worshipping a stranger’s boots,” she cackled. “How can I even call you a man? What was it I called you earlier?”
“A worm, goddess,” Michael said quickly in between licks. Zoey burst out laughing.
“A worm! That’s it. What a good memory you have!” she said. “You’re a pathetic, spineless little worm! That’s it! Keep worshipping my shoes like that!”
She watched as he kept licking. It amused her. There he was, a married man, on all fours, ass waving in the air as he licked a stranger’s shoes. He didn’t know where she’d walked, he didn’t know where she’d been. But he excitedly ran his tongue along the sole of her shoe.
“It suits you,” Zoey mused. “And it shows off that nice, juicy ass of yours. Spin around; present that ass for me.”
He went to get up, but Zoey slapped him.
“No, don’t get up,” she said. “Stay on your knees, on all fours. Do it, cunt!”
Slowly, he spun around. She was impressed when he put his head down and stuck his behind as high in the air as he could. A natural sub. Zoey was taken by the sight of this man, this stranger, bending over for her. It sent a wave of lust and arousal through her.
“My god look at this ass! So firm and juicy!” Zoey said, getting off the couch and lowering herself onto her knees behind him. “And so, so pretty! Such a nice ass!”
She began to massage his ass cheeks and running her fingers across them. Michael cooed softly, obviously enjoying the attention.
“I bet your wife doesn’t touch this ass, does she? So this is all mine, isn’t it?” she said.
“Yes goddess,” Michael moaned.
“Good boy. Say: ‘my ass is yours, goddess'”
“My ass is yours, goddess.” He was barely hesitating anymore.
“Good boy! All mine!” Zoey giggled, planting a wet kiss on his left asscheek.
“This poor ass never gets the attention it deserved! (kiss) Well, until now anyway.”
She gave his asscheeks a few more kisses, before biting without warning. Not hard, but sharp enough that he grunted and she felt a hand flail around behind him to push her away. She dragged her teeth down his ass before pulling away.
“Awh! What’s that! You don’t like it when I bite?” Zoey laughed. “Too bad. Keep talking about your wife, bitch. I want to know everything.”
She pushed her head forward, tongue out, a long, deep lick of his asshole. His ass tasted nice, if a little salty. He wasn’t ungroomed or unclean, he took care of himself. There was the faint trace of whatever soap he used in the shower, mixed with a little sweat.
She started to rim his asshole, saying, between licks, things like: “Uh-huh”, “That’s nice” or even “Does that feel good? My tongue in your ass”. Slowly, his guard started to fade, she was breaking down those walls.
The words spewed out of him. They’d met in college, sophomore year. Love at first sight. She hated his parents, he loved hers. They married after graduating, and moved to Rust City. Both worked in the city, moved to the suburbs, had kids, sex life fell away. He’d never been ‘brave’ enough to have an affair…
Interesting choice of words. Without warning, she spanked his ass. Michael jumped in surprise.
“You wanted to have a fucking affair? You just said it was love at first sight!” Zoey said, spanking his ass again. She kept licking, only stopping to ask a question or take a breath. He was so easy to mold while her tongue explored his body.
“I… I have needs…”
Spank. Zoey spat in his ass. It pooled around the puckered hole.
“Did you discuss them with her?” She said, sucking her spit back up.
“I… I tried, she was… she didn’t….”
Spank.
“Didn’t what?” Zoey said, her voice obscured by his ass.
“W-we’re drifting apart!” he squeaked.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “You’re drifting apart?” she said. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“We’re-we’re just…”
“I don’t want to hear it. If you’re drifting apart fucking tell her! Don’t sit there wallowing in your own self-pity and do something about it!” Zoey laughed. “Be a man for fuck’s sake! Do you love this woman?”
“I do, I-”
“I mean, really love her?” Zoey said, tensing her tongue and pushing it into his asshole. His sphincter tensed against the intruder, and he let out a moan. Zoey pulled back, spitting on his asshole and using a finger to rub it in.
“You are so fucking pathetic, you know that? You’re a dumb fucking cunt.” she said. His legs quivered, and his toes were curling at the sensation of her finger at his back door. She suspected he’d never had a woman explore this region before.
“No, I take that back, you’re not a cunt,” Zoey said, gently probing Michael’s asshole with her fingertip. He gasped. “Cunts are warm, welcoming… everyone loves a cunt. You’re more like a… limp dick,” she chuckled. “A soft, flaccid, useless little thing… but don’t worry, princess. I’m here to teach you how to harden up.”
She spanked his ass, harder than she’d intended. It left a vivid red handprint.
“You want your marriage to work? Then stop being so fucking soft!” she said. “Or should I have you wearing panties?”
Michael let out a sob. Zoey paused, listening out for a safe word. She massaged his ass gently.
“Michael?” she said.
“Y-yes, goddess?” the man replied, sniffling. Zoey smiled.
“Aww, tears?” she laughed, spanking him. “Poor baby. You’re not used to hearing the truth, are you? Am I hurting your feelings?”
“N-no goddess,” Michael gasped, and she spanked him again.
“Strong men aren’t afraid of their feelings, but you’re not a strong man, are you? No, you’re a sad little limp dick, aren’t you?” Zoey cackled, before adding in a baby voice: “Yes, you are, yes you are…”
“Yes I am,” Michael said, firmer than she expected. He was pushing past the tears, truly blossoming as a submissive.
“Say it,” Zoey growled. “Say ‘Goddess, I’m a little limp dick’. Do it…”
Michael swallowed. “Goddess, I’m a little limp dick…” He said. He wasn’t stammering anymore. Was he embracing his role?
“Good boy,” Zoey chuckled, patting his sore, pink ass. “Keep listening to me like this and we’ll fix that marriage in no time. Your wife will be sending me flowers!”
She went back to eating his ass; using her tongue to explore his most sensitive, private area. It thrilled her to have this access, and to hear the little vulnerable moans that came out of a man when she tongued his ass.
“Oh does that feel good does it?” she teased. “Stroke your cock. Stroke your useless fucking dick while I eat your ass.”
The married man didn’t have to be asked twice.
“Good boy, Zoey giggled, moaning in her own arousal. She was as wet as could be. “That’s it, look at those balls wobble and bounce as you jerk off…” she bit her lip. “I think I might…”
Zoey grabbed his balls.
“…squeeze them again…” she said. This time she dug her fingernails into the poor man’s scrotum. Michael howled in pain, but he didn’t stop stroking his cock. She kept an ear out for his safe word.
“Fuck! Argh! Shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, trying his best to remain composed.
“Does that hurt?” Zoey laughed. “Does it hurt when I squeeze your balls?”
“Y-yes goddess,” Michael managed through gritted teeth. His whole body had tensed up, frozen in place while she drove her nails into his balls.
“I don’t care. Keep stroking your cock. You love it, bitch,” Zoey said, intensifying her grip. Michael’s toes curled. “Tell me you love it!”
“I… I…” His voice was small, and he was sweating now, his back was glistening. “I love it… please can I cum?”
That took her by surprise. Grinning she gripped his balls even tighter, pulling them down, away from his body. Michael used his elbow to keep him up while he banged his fist on the floor, but kept stroking.
“Oh you wanna cum do you? How dare you assume I’m going to let you cum.” Zoey said, pulling harder on his balls. Michael let out a high-pitched yelp.
“I’m sorry, goddess,” he squeaked, finally stopping stroking.
“Oh you’re sorry are you? Huh?” Zoey said, letting go of his balls. The man gasped in relief. “God, you’re a little pussy. Eat my cunt and I’ll consider letting you cum, you pathetic little fucking bitch.”
She stood up and sat back down on the couch, spreading her legs. Still on all fours, Michael hesitantly glanced at. She nodded, as if he was an idiot.
“That’s it, come over here,” she said. Slowly, he began to crawl towards her. Zoey put on a condescending tone once again.
“Oh good boy! I think you need a pat on the head!” She said, patting him on the head when he arrived. “There you go! Good boy! Now shove your whining, whinging, pathetic face into my pussy until you can’t breathe.”
He was staring at her pussy. This was obviously another big step for him; another woman’s pussy. One who he wasn’t married to. This was it, beyond everything they’d done today; eating another woman’s pussy, pleasuring her… could he do it?
Of course he could, there was lust in his eyes and, based on how wet his lips were, he was close to drooling. This close she bet he could smell her arousal. Husband of the year.
Hesitantly, Michael the married man pushed his face between her legs. He gave her pussy a gentle kiss. A gentle fucking kiss?
“Suck on my clit or push your tongue out bitch! Maybe this is why your marriage is failing, hmm? You don’t even know how to eat a woman’s cunt!” Zoey said, rolling her eyes. “Christ’s sake. This is what I get after eating your ass? There I was being nice.
“I’m sorry, godde-” Michael said, pulling back and looking up at her. He was cut off when she slapped him.
“I said eat my fucking cunt!” Zoey snapped angrily. “Do I have to…” Zoey pushed his head back into her crotch, leaned over and slapped Michael’s ass, causing him to squeak in surprise. That was an advantage of being tall for a woman; she had long arms.
“…reach over and…”
Spank.
“…spank your useless…”
Spank.
“…fucking…”
Spank.
“…ass?”
Spank.
Michael said something inaudible from her crotch and Zoey laughed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Zoey said, smacking his ass three more times.
“Use your words when you need something, you stupid cunt.”
She smacked his ass another few times. He was terrible at it, just awful. She had to tell him what to do. His ass was becoming a nice, delicate pink. By the end of the day it’d be red.
“For fuck’s sake, get your fucking tongue in there! Now! God.” She roared, rolling her eyes and holding his head between her legs. His tongue darted out, lapping at her wetness, trying to capture every last bit of flavor. As he licked, mashing his lips and tongue against her sex in as uncoordinated a manner as one could imagine, a sticky mess formed at his chin, a mix of her arousal and his saliva.
But it was no use. He had as much talent at eating pussy as a brick. She knew she wouldn’t cum, no matter how much she grinded her hips on his face, or held his head in place. It was no use. She gave up and pushed him back, and he submissively sat on his heels, looking at her.
“That was fucking pathetic!” Zoey growled, frustrated. “Seriously, how are you that bad at eating pussy? It’s a fucking pussy, it’s not rocket science you stupid… fucking…” She trailed off trying to think of an appropriate insult, before groaning in wordless frustration and throwing her hands in the air.
The man didn’t reply, nor did he meet her furious gaze. He was humiliated. Serves him right, Zoey thought. She needed to mold this man. He needed her help.
“Get up! Get the fuck up off my floor!” she said. Michael quickly obeyed. “When I’m fucking finished with you, you’re going to be the perfect man, the perfect husband, the most perfect fucking… cunt ever, understood?”
“Yes goddess,” Michael said softly. Zoey stared at him, breathing hard. She was still uncomfortably aroused, but an orgasm seemed a long way off.
“Good, good. Fucking splendid,” Zoey laughed, wiping sweat from her brow.
“Thankyou goddess.”
Zoey sighed.
“I must say, I’m disappointed in you,” she said. “You came in here so pent up and obedient. But seeing as you can’t even do basic things like lick a fucking pussy, I’m going to spend the rest of the hour you booked whipping your ass, got it?”
“Yes goddess,” Michael nodded. He seemed resigned to his fate.
“And when that’s over you’re going to go home to your wife and apologize profusely,” Zoey continued. “I mean you’re going to get on your fucking knees and tell her you’re sorry, that you’ll listen and communicate more.”
“Yes goddess.”
Zoey stood up.
“Now, playtime’s over sweetheart. Follow me to the fun room.”
She turned and started walking before suddenly stopping and turning back, as if in mid-thought.
“Oh, and by the way,” she said. “I hope you can think of an excuse as why your ass is going to be covered in bruises…”
THE END
I hope you enjoyed my first foray into femdom! Let me know what you think, I’m always open to feedback and love reading the comments.
Clara xox