Haley pulled her fishnet tights taut. She had coordinated the pattern with the lacy details on her bra, as well as the color: both were black-as-midnight and made her already pale skin appear that much lighter.
Walking over to her closet, she pulled a red blazer off a hook and slipped it on. The blazer was long, hitting just above Haley's knees. She did up the buttons quickly. It would be bad form to arrive late.
Glancing at the floor length mirror at the back of her closet, Haley took a pause. Her makeup was impeccable; her outfit sexy-yet-classy; and her body ready, judging by how wet her pussy had become at the thought of what the night had in store.
But it was one thing to fantasize about pain, another thing to actually experience it. It was one thing to imagine yourself tied up, another thing to be restrained and completely at the mercy of another. It was one thing to desire sex, another thing to be used for the gratification and pleasure of a Master. And, tonight, Haley's desires were surely going to be tested.
***
Haley was new to charging money for the opportunity to dominate her body. But that didn't make her new to BDSM play.
Cole had made sure of that.
The first time he and Haley had hooked up, Cole had choked her mid-fucking. Not enough to knock her out, but enough to give her a headrush. And when he let go, a few moments after his hand had grasped her throat, Haley had begged him to choke her again.
She had never imagined herself to be all that submissive. She managed male subordinates in her day-to-day life. And, Ivy League graduate that she was, she knew herself to be smarter and more capable than any of them.
But the way she so easily relinquished control from that moment on--pinned on her back, unable to breathe, a hard cock thrusting in and out of her pussy--she had to have wanted it. She had to have needed it.
And Cole had taken the cue.
Pulling himself upright, his cock still buried deep inside her, Cole had grasped Haley's firm nipples and twisted them with force. Haley gasped and involuntarily thrust her hips upward, grinding her g-spot against Cole's cock and betraying her own mixed feelings of pain and pleasure. Cole kept twisting, his smile growing larger as Haley writhed underneath him.
And when he stopped, before Haley could catch her breath, Cole had choked Haley again. Harder and with more ferocity this time. But letting go just as Haley's eyes began to roll into the back of her head.
Haley wasn't aware enough of her surroundings in that moment to notice Cole cumming into his condom. But she noticed when he pulled out, flipped her over, and gave her ass a hard slap. Moaning, Haley had tried to recoil in pain, only for Cole to grab her long brown hair and pull her back into position. He spanked her again, and again, and again, and again--the rhythmic application of force propelling Haley deeper and deeper into subspace.
When she then felt Cole's fingers stretching her pussy wide, Haley almost fell out of that blissful place. Almost.
But Cole didn't deliver a gentle finger fuck. And she didn't want one.
His three fingers moved with vigor from the front to the back of Haley's wet pussy. Haley thrusted in time with Cole's movements. And as she came, Haley squeezed her thighs together around Cole's hand.
***
On some level, every man wants a socially acceptable way to use and abuse women, Haley figured. Charging for that opportunity just made good business sense.
So Haley arranged for a boudoir photoshoot, gathered the most evocative photos of herself, and put together a website. "For the discerning person...", the homepage proclaimed in text she superimposed onto an image of her lying on a white shag rug in a lacy bodysuit. Under "Services," she listed her kinks--fortunately for her business plan, they were many--and her hard limits--fortunately again, they were few. And then she inserted the kicker, the thing that would separate her from her competition: if clients wanted, they could book her for "full-service" BDSM experiences. Which was her legally ambiguous way of saying: yes, of course she would be willing to have sex with them.
The plan was simple: Haley would put the website out into the world, and anyone who found it and wanted to pay $400/hour to use her would have nearly unfettered access to her body. She could use the money; and, if she was being honest, she could use the attention, reeling as she still was from her and Cole's breakup the month before.
***
It was just before 7pm when Haley arrived at her first-ever client's nondescript house on the east side of town. The night wind reminded her how little protection tights afford from the cold.
Haley walked quickly to the front door. It opened before she could knock.
She had met up with him before, in a coffee shop the day prior, for a new-client screening appointment. Still, the man standing in the doorway before her was a perfect stranger.
"May I come in?," Haley asked demurely.
The man stepped aside and gestured towards the warmly lit hallway.
Haley stepped past him, the scent of his after-shave catching her nose as she did so.
The entrance looked like the showroom of a furniture store. There was art on the walls, but of the kind you would expect to find on the walls of a motel. There were lamps and side tables lining the hall that led towards the back of the house, but they were a little too clean and perfect; as if the person who bought them had done so out of obligation rather than genuine taste.
