Mid-day during the lunch rush hour in the trendier part of town, employees of the Chesterton club were setting up early for their evening business hours. Busboys were setting up decorations around the table and stocking. Sound engineer specialists were setting up the club's new, customized sound system. And the star bartender Mace Gibson, a handsome 30 year old in plaid, was bringing up cases of liquor from behind the bar, noticing things were working well so far despite the order from management to be ready asap, which didn't make sense, but none questioned it; Mace, like most, felt a need to serve the coming evening crowd as their VIP clientele, something that pushed them to work with pride in their hearts and smiles on their faces. Mace was kind of hoping wherever the supervisor was on the premises, that they'd stop by to give more orders, as they always sounded like chiefly good ideas to him; even the unreasonable asks sounded great the more they listened to the details, or just their voice.
Setting down a case of vodka, Mace felt his heart nearly leap as he thought he saw a familiar silhouette at the entrance, a nice figure framed by the outside lights. Adjusting to the few from a distance, excitement waned as he could tell it wasn't the supervisor, even if their figure, and their style was rather eye-catching. Whoever it was wore what looked like a stylish dark suit, with a wide-brimmed hat. They stood at the doorway, staring in the direction of the sound system, seemingly fascinated by the sound Mace considered white noise after hearing it for hours; the silhouette had to shake off the effect of the sound before making their way closer to the bar. The closer she got, the more Mace took notice of the figure's appearance. A healthy figure was carried like a world-class model, as if someone had walked off a photo shoot nearby to get a drink. Her black suit was sleek and tailored, and unafraid to let her curvaceousness show. The V opening of her suit jacket and unbuttoned white blouse was as inviting as her lipsticked smile, a pale red.
Once she finally made to the bar, Mace stood in total curiosity as the woman raised her head to show off dark designer sunglasses, and a brighter smile than the one he thought he saw leaning on the seductive side.
"Um...we're not open at the moment...." Mace started, trying not to stammer while the woman remained completely composed, taking a calm breath, daring his eyes to glance down at her impressive bust.
"...but, uh, what can I get you?"
"I'll take a martini," a rich alto voice intoned as she placed her hands on the bar, almost arching a little to give a fuller peak at her assets. "And some information, if you can spare it."
"One martini coming up," Mace told her, gathering the glass and ingredients needed to make her something extra special. "And as far as information, were you looking for our event schedule, or management?"
"I was actually looking to know about a possible patron of this establishment; I heard she might frequent it."
"Well, it gets pretty crowded here, I may know a face or five, but I'm not sure I'd know everyone that comes around."
"Oh, I'd trust the bartender's eyes over management or a doorman who sees face after face. They're just numbers to other positions; you get to see them with more memorable expressions, from the laughing to the intoxicated, leaving greater impressions I think. Don't you?"
"The way you put it, I can see your point. Who exactly are you looking for, Ms...?" Mace handed her the finished drink.
"Ms. Dowed, but those who know me better, call me VeVe..." she spoke before sipping on her fresh martini. "Mmmmmm. Make me another one of these, and you can most certainly call me Mistress VeVe."
Mace's eyebrow raised at the "Mistress" title, unable to hide the pause in his posture while making another martini, failing to show how the word stirred something in him.
"That's quite a name," he commented, making sure he sounded impressed with it instead of excited.
"It's a performance name, honestly, just like the woman I'm looking for."
"Oh, she's a performer too? Has she done anything at our club, like under Mistress?"
"She is a mistress of her craft, for sure, but her "Lady" title comes after the descriptive word."
"....Lady..." he tried to think, serving her the second drink, allowing his mind to reach for a memory methodically tucked away, but still on the verge of intoxication stronger than from the served liquor.
"'Dazzling Lady' is her name. Ringing any bells?"
The full name spoke out loud, in a tone very similar to the woman who'd locked the memory away for safe keeping, made him actively become still to search for it; it only made Mistress VeVe smile.
"Yeah, she's definitely rang your bell," she smirked at the man, drawing his attention with an outstretched hand, fluttering fingers in his face that gave unfocused eyes something to latch onto. Following the butterfly imitation as it led him in several directions, he stayed on it all the way to the symbolic butterfly landing on the cleft she gently stroked, giving his mind no quarter to think any further about Dazzling.
"And yet, the thought of her seems to be going away from you, floating away like a breeze passing you by, as something else keeps you comfortably in place, something weighing on your mind." Mistress VeVe's breathing pattern began to rhythmically rise and fall, as his own breathing followed suit, and his eyes stayed on the mostly-clothed bust rising and falling.
"Would something be weighing on your mind at the moment? If so, I would hope that it's a rather soft weight, nothing heavier than a blanket, the kind that will wrap itself around you because a tired body and sleepy mind would beg for it. The weight that pulls itself over you, urging you to return to that place where you can dream. You can dream of your desires, things you've seen during your day, things you've wanted to interact on an intimate, or perhaps a primal level. Covered up under these sheets, lost in your dreams, how would your desires react to a well-endowed, dominant woman bestowing her bountiful body upon you? Would your dreams come true as her breasts become bare, with hard nipples stiffening, stiffening your cock, draining your rational mind of fluids and focus?"
Mace found it hard to recall where he was all of a sudden, unaware how he'd been led back into the store room, staring down at a pair of dreamy tits that looked deliciously available and assertive behind closed eyelids.
"How amazing, how hot would it be, if my breasts wanted your attention? How would you respond if I wanted to bring you to the point of sexual, of mental slavery, with just a point?"
Surging blood rushed through his body as a hard nipple brushed over his cheek, trailing all over his face, inching closer and closer to his salivating mouth. He moaned loudly as it drew upon his lips, and circled them over and over, avoiding every instinctive effort to suckle on it.
