Disclaimer: This doesn't represent anything that has actually happened (to the best of my knowledge) and was written as erotic satire, purely to amuse the bored author of this story. All characters are 18+ and are participating in all parts of the sexual encounter consensually (because consent is REALLY fucking important).
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"First they want us to call us by their 'chosen name'," Laura sneers towards the camera, "next thing you know they'll be trying to give us all sex changes and change everyone's name to Vlad. News flash Liberals: this isn't the USSR, and we won't let you make this beautiful democracy into a communist society."
"Cut," the director yells.
Laura immediately stands up and storms off set. "Jessie," she screams at the PA standing expectantly by the door, "my office now."
The set makeup artist tries to intercept her with makeup-remover, but the icy glare she receives freezes her immediately.
"Jesus Christ, Jessie," she growls as she storms towards her dressing room, the petite girl in tow, "I don't ask for many things from you, but you always manage to screw them up. I asked for a nonfat double shot latte and got a matcha latte with fucking soy milk. What do I look like to you? Some goddamn bleeding heart liberal?"
"No ma'am," the girl stutters, trying not to fall behind the larger than life television personality she is walking next to.
Laura continues on her tirade all the way back to the dressing room, quickly cycling through all of Jessie's errors, real or imagined. When they reach the dressing room, Laura bursts through the door, pulling Jessie in behind her before slamming the door.
As soon as the door is closed and locked, the older woman begins stripping her clothes quickly, obediently, almost as if she has done this dozens of not hundreds of times. But that couldn't be right? A notoriously homophobic female television personality stripping in front of her much younger, Latina PA who suddenly has a look on her face best described as dominant? The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
In just over a minute, Laura is kneeling on the floor naked, except for a collar and her heels, her head looking down at the floor.
"Thirty-seven seconds," Jessie informs Laura in a calm voice, looking down at her phone. The only response Jessie receives is in the form of a whimper.
"Slut," the dominant woman begins as she slowly walks around her sub, inspecting, "what did I say about stripping?"
She waits for an answer, but Laura doesn't respond. She knows better than to speak before being expressly told to do so. She's fallen for that trick too many times.
Jessie smiles to herself and gives a silent laugh as she inspects the way Laura is clasping her hands. Left on top Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Right on top Wednesday and Friday. Laura got it right this time.
"Speak slut," she finally orders.
"Strip in under thirty seconds, ma'am," Laura answers with trepidation. Jessie played around with other names--Mistress and Goddess to name a few--but ultimately she decided on ma'am as that is what she calls Laura in day-to-day life. She found role-reversal particularly stimulating. When she explained this to Laura, the older woman's face turned red with humiliation. Jessie then teased her about the segment she had just filmed about how young people don't respect the older generations anymore.
"Little girl," she had ended with that day, "I don't think that you want to be respected, do you? You want everyone to know how much of a slutty little whore you are. Am I right? Speak slut."
Jessie had waited patiently for Laura's response. She wasn't sure if this was going to be the thing that finally made Laura utter their safe-word (everyone deserves consensual sex, even homophobic pieces of shit), but Laura finally responded, tears streaming down her face, "Yes ma'am."
Jessie finds Laura's apparent love of humiliation endlessly amusing.
"What happens to sluts who can't do the one thing sluts are supposed to do, taking off their clothes, right?"
Laura whimpers as her mistress traces the curve of her ass up to the nape of her neck before yanking her head back with her hair. Jessie is standing above Laura, blocking the slutty conservative's view of the ceiling of her dressing room, the dressing room she had earned through years of spouting homophobic bullshit.
"Open your mouth," Jessie demands, her voice almost a growl.
Laura immediately obeys like the whore she is and is rewarded with a glob of spit, fresh from the source of her mistress's mouth. Jessie smiles and laughs at the slut kneeling underneath her.
"Sluts who can't even strip right get punished so that they learn," Jessie answers her own question. "Stand up slut."