Ch. 01: This Isn't Freedom

- February 15th, 2025. East Gotham -

His moans and squeals could be heard for what felt like miles.

Selina's hand sploshed - up and down, up and down - around the man's cock. This had been the fourth time this week he asked for her services, with each time being more and more emasculating.

This time, she was standing over him in a latex suit. In her right hand, inches of sturdy, fleshy cock laid bare. In her left she held a whip which she occasionally struck him across the chest with. The rules were simple: She controlled him. She ran this show. Hurt him, whip him, please him. All of these things faded together in the man's mind and for all intents and purposes, meant the exact same thing.

Selina thought it was pathetic.

Still, the man was more than willing to spend thousands of dollars on her services, and the local landlord didn't care much about where selina got the money from. Just if. Then there was always the factor of marco.....

Selina sent another assault across the man's bare chest, then leaning in close enough to drag her tongue across his cheek. He always liked that.

"Getting close? Or am I going to have to get sloppy?"

The man didn't respond, he only squealed. It was just about all he was good for. She took it as a yes. She gave him one last swipe with the whip before tossing it to the side. She shimmied until she was leveled with his cock.

His fat, heady cock. Such a shame it's attached to a man like him.

She didn't take him all at once - she couldn't if she wanted to - instead, she nibbled softly on the side. Her teeth grazed against the soft flesh. The damned thing was so big, so thick, that it covered half her face! In spite of that, this whole thing was beginning to bore selina. He had always prematurely ejaculated before. Never more than, at maximum, two minutes. Now the fucker was holding firm after fifteen minutes of a handjob. She had to pull out the big gun.

And pull it out she did. The movement was so swift that even she was somehow caught off guard by it. She broke into a steady rhythm. Five inches of cock down her throat, the remaining portion stroked and coaxed by her gloved hand. She slurped and spit and gurgled. The saliva from her mouth dribbled down, covering the manhood in a warm glaze of drool. She tried to take him entirely - either to finish this off quicker, or out of pure pride - but the damned thing wouldn't budge. How had she never noticed this before?

GLURK GLURK GLURK

The man's size was simply too much for Selina's throat to handle. She sat back on her heels for a moment, catching her breath.

'Okay, Selina. New plan.' She thought to herself. She was nothing if not resourceful.

She took his cock back into her mouth, stroking and sucking as she was before, only this time her other hand gripped his balls. Tight enough that he surely felt the pain. In her mouth, teeth grazed against his shaft, just enough for him to notice.

He jerked. Gotcha.

She upped the ante. Her head bobbed quicker and quicker, her throat a holster for his cock. She gagged and gagged, he squealed and squealed. Eventually all pretense of domination became an afterthought. Her eyes rolled back into her head, soft moans escaped her lips. He wasn't a client in that moment, he was a big-dicked stud and she was a size queen. She convinced herself in those short few minutes that she wasn't a working girl and he wasn't very likely an old man cheating on his wife.

With that fantasy? She began to shift, change. Her movements became more fluid. Her mouth escaped his shaft for a moment, moving down to suckle at his balls, tongue at them. Selina's wet mouth warmed his sensitive nuts as she kissed and licked and admired him.

He was close. She could tell. His cock shook in her mouth, poking and prodding at her cheeks as she thrashed at it with her tongue. No words were said during this exchange, but her eyes gazing into his told a story. A moment was being shared here. Impersonal, unremarkable, and likely to be forgotten in just a month's time - but very much a moment nonetheless.

Then he exploded. She's not sure what compelled her to do it, but selina dislodged his dick from her throat, pressing the tip against her masked face. Stream after stream of spunk laced her latex cat-mask. Some caught her unmasked mouth, which she licked up greedily, while the rest simply painted her mask. She closed her eyes and reveled in the moment that seemed to last a lifetime.

Then as quickly as it started, it was over. Selina was a woman of the night again and the man in front of her was a married man that she'd have no interest in if not for the money. She couldn't care less about his shrinking, softening cock anymore, though she still gave the residual cum on her face a few licks.

She stood and cum dripped from her face as she did. Another speechless action: She held out her hand and accepted her money. Three thousand. Was it worth three thousand?

A stupid question. Of course it was. She wouldn't be here if it wasnt. Yet as the man fumbled with his belt and staggered out, and Selina walked into the bathroom to clean up and unmasked herself, she didn't recognize the woman that stared back at her.

Disheveled hair, ruined makeup, still some leftover cum on her chin.

She didn't feel shame, anger, or embarrassment. She didn't feel anything. That was the issue. Whatever kind of person Selina may have grown into was immediately halted by her becoming what she is right now, right here, in this mirror. Putting on an act - a performance. Never herself even amongst her 'coworkers.' Hollowed out to the core. A tear didn't run down her face but she got damn close.

She looked to the whip, that cum-stained cat mask. She didn't know how or why it maintained her attention so easily.

Something needed to change, and fast.