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He
stopped, looked up at her and pleaded, “Now can I have your boot back? I need
to lick the sole, it tastes so good.”
    “Hell no! No more treats for you. You’ve been bad. Now I
have to punish you. Turn around.” She spanked his bare bottom repeatedly with
the crop.
    “Oh yeah, punish me, punish me. The harder, the better.”
    “Shut up.” She put her foot on his back, pushed him on the
floor and proceeded to walk the length of his naked back in her spiked heels.
    “Oh, I love the feel of your leather-bottom shoes on my
skin, it feels so decadent.”
    “Don’t tell me what to do.” She continued strutting up and
down his back, until purple bruise marks appeared. The Domme was a professional
and knew exactly how much pain to inflict before causing permanent damage. Once
her job was finished, she sat back down on the sofa and lit a cigarette. “Are
you going to lie there like a lazy slug or get over here and worship me?”
    He slowly rose to his knees and crawled over to where she
sat. “Can I polish your boots with my tongue?”
    “If you must,” she said casually, blowing out a puff of
smoke.
    He gently took her ankle and licked her boots, using his
tongue as a washcloth. “This is so hot. I love pleasing you.”
    “What the hell are you mumbling down there?”
    “I’m so turned-on right now.”
    She rubbed her breasts. “I am too. I love seeing you lick my
boots. But I didn’t tell you to talk. Did I?”
    “I’m sorry. I just…”
    “Since you’re new to The Dungeon, I’ll let your talking
slide for tonight. Remember I’m the one in charge, not you. Now your verbal
outburst will cost you a time-out. I’m not going to touch you for another hour.
Now go sit in the corner.”
    She pointed her long finger to the onyx painted wall across
from her.
    “Please! I’m sorry. I can’t hold out for a whole hour. Can I
make it up to you? Maybe I can suck your nipples?”
    “I’ll think about it. Now crawl over there like I said.”
    He did as told and watched hopelessly as the Domme unzipped
her cat suit, took out her right breast and began playing with her erect
nipple, looking him in the eyes and teasing him. As they sat in silence staring
at each other, a red light near the door blinked on and off, signaling there
was someone in the waiting area. The receptionist had instructions to buzz the
Domme when a new client came in, so that she could conduct an interview.
    “Turn your face against the wall, you piece of shit, and
don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She exited her private suite and went upstairs
to the main floor of the club.
    * * * * *
    Kendall glanced around the foyer of the club and couldn’t
believe how normal it looked. The walls were papered in a silver and black foil
paisley design. Two huge, six-foot beveled mirrors stood on each side of the
receptionist desk, which wasn’t actually a desk at all, but a clear Lucite
vanity table. Black leather cubes atop a red shag area rug served as seating.
The décor was reminiscent of a sexy boudoir, with a color palette of white,
black, silver and red. Kendall had expected the place to look dirty and
decadent, with chains and restraints hanging from the walls.
    “Greetings, and welcome to The Dungeon. You must be Ms.
Hall,” the Dominatrix said, approaching Kendall.
    “Yes, we spoke on the phone the other night.” Kendall
extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    “And you as well. Come back to my office so we can talk.”
The Domme led Kendall down a long corridor. The walls of the hallway were
covered with framed black-and-white photographs from the 1920s of men and women
pleasing each other in unorthodox ways. Once they reached the office, the Domme
opened the door and said, “Please have a seat.”
    There were no chairs in the room, only three leather sofas,
one black, one red and one silver. Kendall took a seat on the black one and
didn’t waste any time getting right down to business. “Like I said over the
phone, Rob gave