Part 1 of A Domme and Her Sub: Free Sex Doesn't Exist

"Free sexual sex" was the message hanging on the wall. The sticker also included a web address as well as a picture of a lady with huge tits and a small waist. She was only wearing one Thong.

She was curious as to why somebody had placed it in the bathroom of the ladies?

It isn't it? Surely, that appeals only to males?

It was hard to imagine that gay women could be interested. She stopped her poop and then, having put her pants on she pulled the sticker from on the wall before putting it inside her pockets.

It was a bit of a mystery. There was nothing free about sexual activity. Sexual sex was always at the cost of. Emotional or material.

The name she used was Laura. Laura lived in a tiny space situated in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Her father was American while her mother was Brazilian.

Her hair was dark and long. She was tall, with the Amazonian warrior look that her mother had given her. The men either revered or were afraid of her. Some worshipped her simply because they were afraid of her.

Then she returned to the table at which her date was seated. He stood by her as she came closer.

Laura took long strides with confidence. Her hair was swaying at her sides. It occurred to him she was truly an angel.

How did he get lucky enough to meet an attractive woman?

A woman who was not just like a warrior princess but was also domineering. He was unable to resist the urge to fall on the floor and kneel before her.

He was desperate to be her servant. He wanted it, but he was desperate for it.

He was enticed to serve her. However, he was aware of the fact that he was not worthy. He wasn't yet, at the very least.

The spirit of sexual freedom as well as the slave

The name he used was John. His age was higher than Laura 35 years older than her 27.

He was a top executive living in a two-bedroom home located in Midtown Manhattan. The two couldn't have been more distinct.

The woman was an artist and she worked as a banker. She was a rebel and he was a slave of the bank he worked for.

He was not sure the reason she would want him. She didn't appear to pursue prestige or money. She didn't seem to be attracted to corporate men.

Laura was looking at John when she sat down. From the first look, he appeared like a dull city kind of. A banker dressed in an unassuming suit, not different from the other bankers dressed in suits.

She was sure she wasn't bored, but.

They had met through the BDSM site. Her profile stated that it was her first time being a "domme dominating.

His profile indicated that it was a sub. an under-serving.

She was an alcoholic. He was a masochist.

John was right. Laura wasn't the kind of person to be enthralled by status or money or a lavish apartment.

She was the kind of person who was impressed by her kindness, humility, empathy, and humour. An eagerness to learn and to recognize that we differ.

Laura was aware of these issues in John as they had been talking. It was even more evident on the dates they were on.

He was more than just his job at a corporate company. More than his exquisite suit.

To Laura she was very concerned to ensure that she had a sub who was a nice person. Although that did make it somewhat harder to discipline the subs at times.

It was certainly more convenient to penalise those who didn't recycle, for instance, someone rude towards servers or anyone who was sighing when their mother called.

A fire within the night's sky

Laura had finished her wine glass and John was asking her if she would like an additional glass. She asked John whether it would be better if they went to his house.

They'd already shared a glass and she wasn't playing with her partner when she was drunk.

John's face resembled that of an oil rig worker who'd been told that he could go home to see his family. They'd never been together before. Laura thought it was the right time to play.

They had talked about boundaries; they had set an appropriate wording; she was aware of what she liked. He knew her rules , and was willing to follow them.

John paid and then they headed to look for a taxi. The ride was quick to the apartment he was staying in. As they arrived at the apartment Laura's jaw dropped.

Although she wasn't influenced by the material world or money, she could not deny his perspective was quite impressive.

She was looking out at an overview of the Manhattan skyline from inside it. Manhattan skyline. The most sought-after jewel, the Empire State Building, was visible out in the distance. blazing red like a fire within the sky at night.

She remained calm.

"Take off all your clothing and lay on the couch," she ordered.

Her voice was firm and commanding. It was different from the one she had used at the bar. The man took off his clothing. His cock was already stiff when he sat down.

"Free sexual activity" in pockets

She took her bag. She had brought along toys. He'd said he loved being blindfolded. The very next thing she had to do was put an opaque black silk blindfold around his eyes.

She sat back and looked at him. His hands moved around his shoulders. They were in need of tying them up with her thoughts.

She explained to him that she was stripping and knew it would make him insane because he couldn't discern the stripping. Her hands pulled at her pants and a sticker that read "Free sexual activity" disappeared from her purse.

She put it back into her purse and reminded herself to look it up at a later time.

Only wearing her underwear she put her hand behind the back using their black leather cuffs. He was done twitching. He was gently stroked on the cheek.

Then she struck it with her hand. He was groaning. "Ouch."

"I believe we should take action against the mouth you have been using to complain," she said.

She removed her panties off and placed them into his mouth.

He murmured in a deep voice as his head moved upwards and downwards as if it was begging for someone to hold it. Her pantyhose were damp due to the pussy liquid.

He could smell her.

He heard her digging in her bag and her steps grew closer. He could only discern shadows of her as she walked.

The bird sat touching his thigh. She moved the feather around his legs, over his back, and then up his cock.

At once, she smacked his back with an oversized crop. His eyes welled with tears and he almost spat her pantyhose. His legs were clenched in a reflexive way in order to shield his balls.

"Ah I'll need to address your legs. They're free to move around," she added, laughing by the discomfort. The sadist was in to have a go.

Read Part 2 here.