Shit....this suit is very tight, I am going to have serious chaffing and quite possibly red marks across my body. Why did I have to eat pizza at lunch? I have clearly put on a few pounds. Alright... fine, tomorrow I will join the gym and try and lose a few pounds. After all a girl in my position cannot afford to get fat. My auntie Suha is large as a whale and look at her, in her fifties and still single; I am not ending up like that. I want to be a modern, cultured woman, who is strong, independent and successful. I will have a career, two children in private schools and a loving and supportive husband, who will bring me breakfast in bed every Sunday! Right, both my feet are in the pants legs and I think I am ready to zip myself up, here goes nothing, pulling up now and making a lot of noise...but.... Yes, it's all the way up. Well, that is the hard part done, and I must say I do look very good. There is a little bit of cellulite at the front but that's okay, I have learned that men can't see cellulite, and it's not the same thing as fat. My butt does stick out, but the Al-Hosseini women are known for their round butts and curves, but paradoxically we are always slim. With the exception of Auntie Suha, but she is only half Al-Hosseini, so what do you expect? Besides this client, who I will call John A, requested a girl with a bubble butt like mine, and for $1,000 an hour he can have whatever he wants.
Okay, now that I am in the black latex cat suit, I need to slide into my latex high heel boots. I am 5'4"and what I love about these heels is how much taller I get by wearing them. In them, I am at least 5'8"and being a taller girl is cool. It makes me feel powerful, and power is sexy. My feet have trouble breathing in them, and they are a bitch to walk in! I can't tell you how many times I would trip over myself while trying to walk in them. I have injured my ankles by wearing them, but it's okay now; I have gotten use to them, and I like strutting my stuff in them.
Anyway, time to apply makeup, for something like this I need dark eye-shadow and long eye-lashes. They should look great on me, but I must be careful not to off-set my big green eyes. The secret to all well-done makeup is to bring out bring out your natural features and not to disguise or replace them. My skin is very fair and white, so I will need to make my cheeks red and my lipstick should also be red, as John A requested it. Luckily, I straightened my hair already this will save me time but now I must tie my dark blondish hair back and put on the latex cat mask. Wow, I must say I do look like Michelle Pfeiffer, albeit an exotic-looking Iraqi Michelle Pfeiffer, but like the Hollywood actress nonetheless.
I hope John A likes it; I do have a selection of other outfits; which my other customers seem to like. But everyone has their own particulars, I have a few Jewish clients, one who is into latex and the other who is not, but they both insist I dress like a Nazi SS officer and dominate them. Because of this I have a 'slutiffied' and feminised SS outfit and a Latex SS-outfit- I also speak pretty good German and can put on a convincing German accent. I can also do French, American and, of course, Arabic. I sometimes think my talents are wasted here and I should do theatre instead.
Okay, quick equipment check. I open my bag: black whip? Check; silver metallic dildo? Check; big vibrator and black 9 inch strap-on? Check; lubricant? Check, ball-gag? Check; handcuffs? Check; other hand restraints? Check, flavoured condoms including cherry? Check; rape alarm? Check; wet-wipes? Check. Okay, let's just slide on latex gloves and let's get this show on the road. It's an art what I do, and I love doing it. I walk out of the bathroom and there he is, in his suit on the floor bowing down to me, which pleases me very much.
John A says, "I am your slave, and I am not worthy of you Mistress Soraya. Please accept my submission to you."
In case you are wondering, my name is Soraya and I am enjoying John A's submission to me. In real life, he is a hedge fund manager. He earns a killing every year and has a spoilt wife and two really spoilt kids. However, she doesn't give him what he wants sexually, so he comes to me for a good time, not that I am complaining.
The money I get for this enables me to pay for university and to live comfortably and financially independent of my parents. I do not come from a poor family; on the contrary, my father is a highly successful doctor and virologist and heads the Center for Viral and Disease studies unit at Imperial College London. He, like many Iraqis first came to England in the late 1970's to study, which was paid for by the Iraqi government. Iraq was an up-and-coming country back then and the Iraqi government wanted the country to have the best scientists and so people like my father we sent abroad to study. After he finished his studies he went back to Iraq and found a country ravaged by the Iran-Iraq war and his younger brother Hassan had been killed near Kermanshah in Iran. He had joined the Iraqi army, despite the fact we are Shia, and died defending our homeland-but it wasn't all hopeless at first- my father was adamant he would stay and build his country
He married my mother, who was from an old clerical family in Najaf, this was very important to him. Because hanging over his head is the fact his grandfather was born in Tabriz, Iran and he was an Azeri Turk with some Persian ancestry and with rumours of possible Kurdish ancestry. These are ancestries you don't want in Ba'athist, Arab nationalist Iraq, especially with a paranoid dictator like Saddam Hussein in-charge. I was born in the midst of war in Sadr City or Thawra District in Baghdad. We came to England when I was two and my older sister was four and have lived in an upper-middle class part of Surrey, where I attended an all girl private school and it was here that I developed my nice-middle class English accent. Boys were off-limits to me in-terms of dating, but I could have them as friends. Yes, I would describe my family as liberal, but my father would be stricter with me than my friends' fathers would be. He was not very religious, but he was very strict on Iraqi and Arab culture and my mother was stricter on religion, but she did not wear the Hijab or headscarf. I somehow turned out like this- of course they don't know about it- they think I have a part-time job and earn money legitimately. I think they would have a heart-attack is they could see me dressed like this.
I walk over to John A, "Haaaa... you're pathetic, a sad, dirty and poor excuse for a man. What makes you think you are worthy of me? Your wife is at home laughing at you- she is probably sucking a university student's dick and paying him with your salary. You are a stupid piece of shit".
John A, "Yes, Mistress."
And as I look at this pathetic soul laying before me, I say, "Shut up. Did your mistress give you permission to speak? I don't think so. You will only speak when spoken to slave."
There is music of classical seduction on in the background- I'd prefer if the whole hotel couldn't hear me taking advantage of my victim. They might think it is weird- and I am a very conscientious person- and I can't think of a weirder situation they could find me in!
John A: "No, Mistress, sorry Mistress."
He broke the no-talking rule and I have to punish him for that. "Again with the talking." I scream as I kick him once at the top of his head which was still on the floor because he was bowing. his head flies back and he sits in an upright position for the first time. He looks shocked, and his eyes widen; I can see he enjoyed that and was feeling aroused.
"That's better!" I bark. "Now, slave boy. Do you like your mistress's boots and heels?
John A looks a little apprehensive; I bet he is not use to being dictated like that. He then nods affirmatively and lets out, "Yes, I like them very much, Mistress."
But he says this in a quieter tone than his previously louder, more arrogant declarations. Good, this is a sign he is learning to accept my authority over him and he is resigned to the fact that his fate is in my hands. I seem to have this effect on men, even while I am at university in my everyday life, men bend over backwards to please me. I am nice to them, I gently tease and flirt with them and sometimes this is not even necessary to get them to do what I want. A simple smile is sometimes enough. I know I have many admirers and would-be-boyfriends- there is this one Anglo-Pakistani guy who is convinced I will be his if he helps me out with school work. But unknown to him, I already have a boyfriend, an English-Iraqi dental student, and he plans to marry me. Of course, like my parents, they think I am a virgin and don't know what I do.
"Good!! Now kiss and lick under my shoe and do not stop until I command you to stop."
John A: "Although, I am not worthy of your Mistress, I will do anything to please you."
I stick my foot in the air, and John A starts to kiss the bottom of my latex boot. He grunts as he does it. "Ahhh..Mistress, the smell of your boots and the taste are perfect. I am your slave."
