She sighed, annoyed, hearing the echo of her dogs barking incessantly from the floor above. Her heels clicked across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front of the townhouse before the visitor had the opportunity to ring the bell again. Upon opening the door she saw him. Standing with his weak shoulders hunched slightly forward, he raised a trembling hand to sweep the straight grey hair back from his sweaty forehead and over the top of his balding scalp before offering it to her.
"Ms. Holly?" He said in an anxious and questioning tone.
She gave him a quick once over, ignoring the damp hand he extended. Hazel eyes that were far less than spectacular were revealed under hair that was two months overdue for a haircut by her standards. Those eyes squinted nearly shut above the bulbous nose and nervous thin lipped smile that spanned his round ruddy face. A button down plaid shirt was tucked tightly into the chino's that were a size too small and cutting into the rolls of fat that made up his mid-section. He was in his fifties, but appeared to be in his mid-sixties. That was Edward, obliviously unaware of his repulsive appearance and behavior.
"You were told to wait patiently at the door for me. Specifically instructed not to ring the doorbell. Did I say that, Edward, or am I imagining it?" Ms. Holly stood there, full of confidence, control, and attitude. Her left hand on her hip and the right on the door she had just opened. Her blue eyes fixed on his as he shifted uncomfortably under her stare.
He felt panic surge through his body as he tried to breathe deeply and steady his thoughts before saying the wrong thing. The wrong thing? He nearly laughed, sensing his initial mistake had already landed him in more trouble than he had bargained for.
"I'm s-sorry Ma'am" He managed to stutter as his gaze dropped to his feet.
He began fidgeting. Shifting his weight from foot to foot like a chastised child. His stubby fingers clasped together tightly, attempting to keep one another from moving.
His whiney voice, inability to remain still, keep eye contact and otherwise act like the grown man he was, irritated her further. Lack of self control always disgusted her, though he couldn't know that. He knew nothing more than she had the ability to give him what he desired. And at this moment, he wasn=t so sure that he desired it anymore.
He found her website online about a month ago. She was different than the others involved in BDSM. Her approach was direct and lacked the blatant sexuality. Now, Edward enjoyed the raw sexuality approach too. The leather and latex made his cock hard at just the thought, but a Dominatrix of that nature was a dime a dozen in the Northeast. Yes, Ms. Holly was different. From the freshly pressed white blouse, knee length black skirt that gently clung to her shapely hips and ass, right down those stockinged legs to her black pumps. She was too clothed to tell exactly what was under all the fabric, but showed enough for him to know that he would like it if ever given the opportunity to take a look.
"Come in, Edward." She said as she stepped aside and allowed him to pass her. Her expression still showing the obvious distaste in his poor choice upon arrival.
He entered, as instructed, barely glancing up from his feet to thank her before stepping foot into her home. All of his other professional sessions had been in a dungeon setting. He'd never been invited into a Domme's home. Disciplinarian, he corrected himself mentally. Ms. Holly had been very clear that she was absolutely not to be confused with a Dominatrix. She actually said that, "absolutely NOT". With the tone in which it was stated, he felt guilty just thinking it. Still, the fact remained, he was in her home. It smelled of vanilla and of something else, though he could't quite put his finger on it. The vanilla was definitely laced with something. He didn=t dare ask or say anything. He was tempted to lift his gaze from the floor and look around, but didn't want to appear to be too curious. What was the protocol in a situation like this, he wondered?
Before he had too much time to contemplate it, he heard her coming up behind him. He held his breath. Eyes wide, he listened intently. Was he to turn around and look at her? He didn't. He just stood there, in what he assumed was her living room. Was the session going to begin now? Had it already begun? He heard a door open to his left and realized that she wasn=t behind him at all, though he=s certain she was at least for a moment. Wasn't she?
"Go downstairs, Edward. Wait for me." She said as she flicked the light switch on the wall just inside the opened door and turned back to look at him.
"Yes, Ma'am." He said as he lifted his head and returned the gaze. Her expression hadn't softened as he had hoped and quickly his eyes shifted to the open door to escape her stare.
He walked past her, through the open doorway and began down the stairs to the left. He groaned quietly as he looked at the bottom of the stairs and realized he still couldn=t see the room in which the session would be held. Not that turning that corner was too much trouble, only that he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that he knew utterly nothing. She had warned him that she wasn't into role play scenarios and that what he would receive here would be real. He wasn't uncomfortable with it before, but he was uncomfortable with it now. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed with fear, yet nothing had really happened yet. He suddenly had a new appreciation for the hours of scripted, predictable play he had thought he had grown bored of. He longed for that boredom now. As he neared the bottom of the stairs he hesitated before turning the corner. After all, he could still back out, right?
He breathed a sigh of relief after quickly surveying the room. Normal. A small round table with two chairs on either side sat to the right. A cream colored backless sofa, armoire, a desk with a lamp, and something that seemed to resemble a child=s picnic table and benches, all placed carefully throughout the room.
Nothing unusual down here. Nothing to be afraid of, that's for sure. He smiled as he noticed the high backed upholstered chair in the corner to the left and Edward suddenly felt like his old self once again. "Yes, Ms. Holly, I've been a naughty boy. Come spank my bottom until I'm sorry." Oh, he couldn't wait to be naked over her stocking clad thighs. After all, he had been masturbating to that vision ever since he first saw that picture of her on the site. Her legs crossed and hairbrush in hand with that stern look on her pretty face. She certainly could pull of that 'take no shit' disposition that he craved so deeply.
His lewd thoughts were interrupted by the now familiar sound of her clicking heels coming through the ceiling above his head. He heard her shut the door and begin to descend down the staircase. Shoulders back, head up and chest out, gently swaying her hips from side to side. He couldn't yet see her, but he could imagine. And with each step that she took approaching him he felt his desire stir. He wiped the smile from his face before she had the opportunity to witness it. After all, he was more than willing to play along with her little dominance game. It was a game he had become very accustomed to playing.
Turning the corner she saw him standing there and immediately noticed his demeanor had changed. He looked directly into her eyes now, no longer fraught with the emotions she saw in him only moments before. She wasn't at all concerned though. She had learned through experience that men respond in one of two ways when left to their own devices down in her basement. Some become more frightened with each passing second. They begin to doubt their decision and the slightest action on her part is grossly amplified by their emotions. Others, Edward included, regain composure. They regroup and resort to the same crude thoughts that led them to her doorstep to begin with. The ones venturing blissfully unaware into the riptide, ignoring all of the caution signs posted . They are use to the faux domination that is force fed to any gullible soul that goes wandering aimlessly through that wonder we call the World Wide Web. Wildly attractive, scanty clad women that do nothing more than play pat-a-cake with his ass while scolding the 'naughty boy'. Then they flip them over play with other thing. Ms. Holly was far from that widely known stereotype. She was real. Her focus was to whip ass and to whip ass well. She told every prospective client the same thing, but some were so deeply programed by the pornographic images they jerk off to daily that they didn't care enough to listen. It wasn' their fault really, but she couldn't resist taking enjoyment in their ignorance.
She began closing in on him in the center of the room. The carpeted floors quieting her heels and the space was left silent, apparently awaiting her music. Ms. Holly smiled. Not the warm welcoming smile that you might expect from a lady, but the devious governing smile of a mildly sadistic woman with a plan.
As that smile graced her face it seemed to draw out of him that previous feeling of uncertainty. He began to again doubt his sanity as well as his safety. He wondered if his desire to lose control was what he truly wanted in real life.
"You think this is a game, Edward." She stated, standing less than a foot from him, appearing to read the thoughts that ran through his head. In her pumps she was still a good five inches shorter than he was, but the height he had on her didn't matter a bit now. He couldn't sense an ounce of weakness in her; not in the way she spoke and not in the way in which she carried herself. He wished at that moment he was so confident.
"You do. I can smell the arrogance permeating through your ill fitting clothes. I can see it in the way that you look at me. As if you believe I'm actually here to fulfill your sick fantasies." She walked around him, surveying his body language. Realizing that she was well on her way to having him once again. She allowed herself to smile briefly while his back was to her. This is far too easy sometimes, she thought.
"Stand up straight, Edward." She said as she made her way back in front of him, placing the index finger of her right hand under his chin, lifting it. Her fingertip was cool and she let it linger for a moment before removing it.
Again standing before him she said,
"I don"t care what you do once you walk out that door, but while you are here you are to present yourself to me in the best manner possible, Understood?"
She continued without offering him the opportunity to answer.
"I don't want you hanging your head, slouching and coming across like a piece of garbage. Garbage gets put outside, Edward."
"Respect, Edward."
"Respect for me and my home, Edward."
"I do not waste my time on those that do not deserve my attention. Your job, among other things, is to ensure that I never feel as if I'm wasting my time, Understood?"
