The Pit (Teaser)

By DX

 

 

 

Copyrighted 12/2022, all rights reserved.  This story may not be reproduced without permission from the author.

 

A man scoffs a professional dominatrix, "How easy it is, getting paid to paddle naughty bums!"  But instead of anger, she invites him to a special retreat where there will be no saafe words, only predator and prey.  He accepts, deciding to be predator, but will he just be prey?

 

 

He drank deep from the well of her beauty and was helpless to look away.  She had cascading, iridescent raven hair and cool, ice blue eyes that peeked out from her long lashes.  Her sculpted high cheeks swept easily to her full, strong lips that held a resting bemused smile. 

It was late afternoon, and the hotel lobby was filled with perfect light.

She wore a leather jacket that did nothing to conceal her battleship breasts that sat waiting in harbor.  The jacket had a mandarin collar and military epaulettes.  It was wrinkled and crinkled and butter soft with a deep wax shine.  Her leather skirt ended just at her knees, showing off her longer than the law allowed legs for just a peek before the cuff of her calf gripping boots plunged her back into severe, tight leather.

The heels of her boots were deadly weapons and notched from her confirmed kills.

Ankles delicately crossed, she sat in a lounge chair reading a book.  

He gaped, stupidly.

“Can I help you?”  She asked, not looking up from her book.

Her voice was like warm honey and rang of Dixieland.  He could feel her pillowy breasts against his naked body has he stumbled into their canyon.  He came back to reality when he realized she was talking to him.

“Oh, uh, hmm?”  He stammered.  “Ah, yes, I was, uh, wondering what you were reading?”

She continued to read, not wanting to acknowledge him more than she needed to.  “A book.”  She said, politely.

He scoffed.  “Print is dead.”  He chuckled.

Her eyes flashed up and stabbed him brutally with a glare, splattering blood everywhere.  She softened, almost conceding there were too many witnesses and resumed her reading.  “Long live the Print.”  She said, hoping to end the vapid conversation.

His head bobbled slightly.  “I don’t follow.”

This time her eyes cut him so finely it would take him days to bleed.  “I wasn’t leading.”  She resumed reading.

“I mean,”  He persisted.  “I don’t understand.  Was that a joke?”

She regarded him casually and gave him a soft smile.  “If you have to ask, then my little josh has fallen flat on its face, so pay it no mind.”  She returned to her book.

He could feel shadows creep nearer whenever she looked away.  He inched to the edge of his seat to get that much closer to her.  “Are you here for the convention?”

His breath pulled easily from his lungs as her lips parted.  She touched her finger to her tongue and insouciantly turned a page.  “No.”  She said as if she had gently closed a door.

“Oh, yeah.”  He relented.  “I guess you wouldn’t.  Your husband then?”

An icy vapor curled about her lips.  “No.”

His face flashed with mild surprise and elation.  “I see.”

She silently sighed as she closed her book and set it in her lap.  She placed her feet flat on the floor and leaned towards him, her blue eyes cutting him open with a saber.  “I’m a professional dominatrix.”

“Oh, Oooh.”  He said with a sly grin.  “Waiting for your slave then?”  He teased.

“No.”  Her voice was the dropping blade of a guillotine.  “My slaves wait on me.”  

He sat back, a little afraid.  “Nice work if you can get it.”  He dismissed her with a sniff.  “Kind of easy work, isn’t it?  Getting paid for spanking naughty bottoms.  I’d like that job.”

“Then go do it.”  She pointed with a tilt of her head.  “Go spank someone and get paid.  Go on.”

His face scrunched in disgust.  “Oh, I’m not into that stuff.”

Her eyes were lidded as they drank in his soul.  “Really?  You haven’t taken your eyes off my heels since you sat down.”

He crossed his arms defensively.  “What?  No, I just… Well you certainly have quite the look.”

She sat back in her chair as if it were a throne.  “It’s not my look that you noticed, but my look.”  Her eyes slowly coiled around him like a python.  “That’s how a dominatrix works.  She looks, and knows her prey.”

He frowned as her coils tightened around him.  “You think I’m prey?”

Her voice was warm summer days leading to nights of fireflies dancing in the boughs of Spanish Moss ladened trees.  “I know you’re prey; but despite the quiver of your fat jowls, you’re not enough of a meal for me.  I ignored you because you’re boring, and now that you have my attention I can see I was right.  You’re a boring, baggy-eyed, mouth breathing, offspring of siblings keen on licking the ass of a fly.  With each less than discrete scratch at your crotch I can see the embarrassing nub of your limited manhood.  I see you’re not prey, but the prey of prey, the hunt of rabbits.  You are pathetically pathetic.” 

She took up her book and resumed her reading.

He felt the sting of her verbal slap.  He knew she had insulted him, but had to take a moment to unpack how.  Anger, frustration, and irritation flared in the hairs on the back of his neck while he felt the stir of his loins.  He glanced around the hotel lobby for a distraction from her, but he couldn’t just look away; he couldn’t just leave it at that.

As her spell was cast, the tiniest triumphant smile leaked from her lips.

He grumbled.  “So, you can read me?  Like your book?”

She didn’t look up.  “Already read.  No character development.”  She said.

He glowered and leaned forward.  “What’s my story then?”

Her eyes cascaded ninja stars and their poison tipped blades jammed into his flesh.  She set her book down and faced him.  “You have a new cheap suit, the hanger creases are still evident.  You can’t open your jacket because it will reveal the stains on your shirt and the fact you had to add extra holes to your belt to accommodate your embarrassing gut.  You bought your gaudy ring from a late night shopping channel and your gold watch from a man on a street corner who also sells phone cases and dish towels.  The liquid polish you use on your shoes is leaving streaks in the carpet.  I imagine it is the same stuff you use in your hair.  Your key fob says Lamborghini, yet you drive a ten year old Korean hatchback.”  She shrugged with her brows.  “You’re so pitiful, you disgust yourself.”

 He was paralyzed.  He wanted to pull his key fob out of his pocket to figure out how she saw it, but he resisted.  “You’re like a detective.”  He finally blurted.

She sighed with the patience of a schoolteacher with a slow student.  “I’m a dominatrix.  I have to know more about you than you do.”  She held out her hand.  “Give me your phone.”  She casually ordered.

He quickly fumbled for it, unlocked it, and handed it to her before realizing how much of a bad idea it was.

She tapped at the screen, and a moment later somewhere on her person something chimed.  “There, I have your number.”  She said, still tapping on his phone.  “I’m deleting mine from your phone.  You don’t need it.”  She flung, more than tossed it back at him.  It bounced in his clapping hands before he dropped it, cracking the screen.

“Unbelievable,”  She admonished.  “I put it right in your hands.  I bet you were always the last chosen for the playground team.”  She waved the notion away.  “In a couple months about a dozen of us mistresses and masters will be getting together at a woodland retreat.  We won’t be practicing safe-words or respecting limits.  We don’t, Top from the Bottom.  There will be predators and prey.  We’ll be bringing our best slaves for fun and games.”

Her sapphire eyes cut open his chest to reveal his beating heart.  “I like the feel of a man’s testicles crushed like grapes beneath my naked feet.”  He could feel the fingers of her hand slither around his pulsing heart.  “My two studs will be pony racing, so I was thinking you might be of some use, sort of an ornamentation or bedizenment.”  Her eyes smiled devilishly as she dinned on his fear.

“And there will be blood, or burns, or scars, or all of the above.  There will be tears; many, many uncontrollable tears.  If anything, you will be permanently changed.  You will learn who you really are, a servant, a toy, a thing to be discarded, and happy to be so.”  She picked up her book and found her page.  “You’ll be allowed to ejaculate at least once, and since I wouldn’t trust you with such a delicate endeavor, I will have one of my slaves see to it.  You will show, because a worthless pillow-humper such as yourself can’t turn down a chance to lick the bottom of my shoe for free.”

 

The Pit (Teaser)

By DX

 

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Copyrighted 12.2022, all rights reserved.  Story my not be reproduced without author's permission.
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