She didn’t speak more than a few, quiet words. She didn’t have to. As a female dominatrix, her power was in what she didn’t say, as much as in what she did say. For instance, when she ordered George into his seat, or instructed Julia to stand and place her arms above her head, they did so without even thinking to question her. That was the silent power she wielded. There was no going against her wishes; that was clear from the start.
It was all part of the fantasy.
George and Julia had chosen Domina—as she preferred to be called—because of her exotic, mysterious aura. The professional dominatrix was tall, with long dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail that looked painfully plastered to her head. She was wearing a skintight suit made from shiny black leather that also appeared plastered to her body. Her lips were painted dark, her eyes a shadowy reflection of the room where she worked—her dungeon. Which, let’s be clear, was hers, and hers alone. The dark, confined space was her underground lair, complete with a steel cage and a series of metal hooks and chains she could configure however she chose in order to position her clients just as she needed them in order to inflict the perfect amount of pleasure… or pain.
Domina sat down on the top of the cage and slipped on her four-inch red stilettos. Her face was hidden under an ornate black mask. Her role in the outside world was forgotten. She could’ve been anyone. An influencer. A doctor. A professional chef. In here, her dungeon, she was simply known as Domina.
No other title was needed.
Domina descended from the cage and approached her new couple. George and Julia sat on two tall chairs in complete silence, watching her. Domina ran her hands down her body as she walked slowly back and forth in front of the couple, the sound of her spiked heels echoing on the cold cement floor, the only audible noise breaking the silence. She smiled.
She had George and Julia right where she wanted them. Quiet. Obedient. Ready to do her bidding.
Domina circled her prey, taking her time. Time, in fact, seemed to slow in her dungeon. There were no clocks. No windows. No way to know if the entire world outside the dungeon’s only door had disappeared. It was just the three of them, trapped inside, and only one of them was in charge.
Domina paused before her new playthings, wondering with whom she would begin. Her eyes moved back and forth between the beautiful Julia, dressed in a tight red dress, thigh-high nylons and high heels, and her...
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Read all about the wonderful author: Sidney Sitravon
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