She fiddled with the strap on her expensive handbag for the hundredth time as he sat watching her. People didn’t like this room he mused and that was good. It wasn’t because there were strange objects and medieval looking devices standing around in mute foreboding; unlike some of the less imaginative members of his trade he didn’t delight in forcing a light on what were sometimes the tools of his trade. It wasn’t likely to have been his over whelming persona either. He was of average height, his hair was short and clean, his facial hair would have looked at home in any office, and the cloths he had chosen were his usual black jeans and black t-shirt. The domino mask was the only thing that stood out as queer in the whole outfit and that was more for his protection than to feed their sense of dread. No he suspected that the room he conducted his meeting in was unsettling because of its alieness to the human mind. The room had four walls, four black walls, with no pictures or clocks or any of the other distractions people often hung on their walls. The ceiling was marred only by a cluster of three can lights that sent light spanning into odd parts of the room. One fell unavoidably onto the person in the chair while the other two were free to shine off and away from Domino himself. The chair his guests often sat in was normal, a typical wooden chair seen at any homes dining room table, with a straight back and a hard seat with no cushion. The wooden table was normal and had been his mothers before her death. A simple wooden coffee table with an ashtray, several coasters, and a manila folder sitting on it. The office for the most part was all very normal, all very clean, and very professional. The dark mahogany throne however was nothing if not ostentatious. He sat more or less comfortably and though not powerfully built the ludicrous chair made anyone look as though they were a man of power. He was an average man with a taste for the finer things. Good wine, good company, a good book… A good woman to break in like a breed mare while she paid him for the pleasure of it. “Thank you for uh seeing me Mr. Domino.” “Master Domino.” He corrected though lightly. “Beg pardon?” she looked at him like she thought he might strike her though his voice had never risen above a conversational tone. “Master Domino. One does not work as long as I have in this trade to be called Mister. While you are here it is Master Domino.” She shivered visibly though he couldn’t tell if it were expectation or nerves. He smiled a little; he wished some days it could be both. Nerves, like a fines piece of music, sounded so good as they were played by a professional but expectation was a heady wine fit only for a habitual drunk or a madman. “Master Domino.” She paused slightly between each word and bit her lower lip. She had such lovely full lips and the biting made them redden prettily. “My friend says you uh… help people with certain…tastes to achieve their desires.” “I do.” He said. She was flustered a little, “Well uh I was hoping you would uh…take me on as a uh…client and uh help me with my…uh…” “I’m sorry Mrs. Drake but I don’t have “Clients”.” Again she was flustered. She twisted the strap on her hand bag and began worrying at that pretty lip again. Her chestnut hair fell over her hazel eyes and her expensive top did things to her body that no one had likely noticed since she was 20 and single and still cared about her looks. He looked at her in the space of the ten seconds it took her to compose herself and saw more than there than her own family likely saw in their whole lives with her. She’d been pretty, maybe even beautiful, but no one would claim that now. She was plumping, probably never lost the weight after her second child, and though not fat she certainly wasn’t going to be called thin anymore. Her hair had the look of a woman who puts it into pony tails and buns and lets it hang as it will because her life has become more important than hair. Her makeup and cloths told the story of a kept woman whose husband had lost interest and whose children were beginning to be too old for Mommy. She was lonely, she was wealthy, and she needed something. People who needed something often came to Master Domino, and their needs kept his well toned ass planted on this laughable phallic symbol of a chair. “I’m sorry.” She finally said, “Lisa didn’t tell me you weren’t taking clients. I’ll just go…I shouldn’t have come without calling first and I…” “How long?” She looked up at him as if he’d just asked her what color panties she was wearing, “I beg your…” “HOW LONG since your husband stopped being intimate with you?” His tone was serious now but she looked at him as though he were mocking her. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business Mister…” “Call me Mister again and I can promise you that you will NEVER get what you came slinking here for like a junky for its fix.” She recoiled and sat timidly starring at him. He hadn’t yelled at her, Domino hadn’t had to yell at anyone in a very long time, but his voice had a rare quality about it and when he spoke people listened. They listened and they obeyed. He stood up and walked to her. She was trembling visibly and he could see tears beginning to well up at the corners of her eyes. He stood towering over her now and she craned up to look at him. She was still pretty he reflected and even if she hadn’t been he’d have still taken her money. At the end of the day he had only one real vise and that was power. Power was his cigarettes, his alcohol, his cocaine, his wife, his mistress, and all his desires roll into one easily taken pill. The pill was in her now and even as she sat crying he could feel that drug trying to work its way to him. She stiffened as he took a calloused finger and traced her cheek with it. He caught the tear there and wiped it away and as she looked up at him with such submission and wonder he felt himself stirring as he always did in the face of such rapt wonder that bordered on worship. And of course there was just something about a woman looking up at you that made his inner demons laugh and dance. “I don’t take clients.” He said again and the finger that had been on her cheek was now under her chin as he craned her head back forward until her eyes were forced to meet his, “I add slaves to my menagerie.” She trembled under his touch but he held her chin firmly and forced her to look at him. This was his world she was asking to enter and he wouldn’t let her stumble in half heartedly to be presented with things she would later regret. He made no mystery about what he was and he was no Lucifer to lure mortals in with honeyed words. “Please Master Domino,” she begged and her mulling only made the stirring more pronounced, “ I haven’t had release in close to a year. My husband want touch me and I cant do it myself any more. It makes me feel weak and wretched to touch myself. Please!” She was crying again and he wiped her tears away. “My terms are in the envelope. Sign them and reseal it and the pact is made.” He released her face and went back to sit in the semi murk of the chair. She read over the papers, at least she wasn’t so lost to her needs that she affixed her name to anything, and after several minutes she signed and placed them back in the envelope. They sat in silence for several minutes. “So then uh…when do we…” “I have made time today.” And with that he collected the envelope and walked towards the back of the room. There was a door there made of dark wood far blacker than his throne but far more comfortable than the chair to his hands. When he reached it he glanced over his shoulder and saw that she was behind him; head down and eyes much too big and doe like for a woman of her age. It was always humorous how the middle aged slipped from the confidence of adulthood back to the supplication of a child when someone intimidated them enough to topple their illusions of grandeur. They went from his greeting room into his “office”. THIS was where he kept all his strange objects and medieval looking devices standing around in mute foreboding. The walls were a deep chocolate brown and the floors were a lighter hardwood. The space was about average for a studio apartment though he doubted most studio apartment dwellers had half the “accent pieces” he did in his office. He glanced at the ceiling, it was made of mirrored glass, and smiled a little at the look of wonder and horror on his new slaves face. “I have not asked your name nor will I in case this was something you were curious about. I have it on your wavers should I ever need it you can rest assured. If you see someone on the street that you believe is me you are not to approach them or speak of things experienced here is that understood?” “Yes uh…Master Domino.” He spoke while he walked, a slow gate that took him through his office, and she didn’t seem to be working too hard to keep up. “When you are outside this place you can be whomever it is you are in the real world. Once you step through that door however you have entered my world. In my world you are a slave, my property, and I will do with you as I wish. Rest assured that tonight I will read your paper work and access your particular needs. Today however will be easy since it’s your first day. Do you have any questions?” “Well uh…Master Domino I just…I.” “Speak.” He said, not loudly but his tone said what he wanted it to say. “I don’t want to be penetrated.” She gasped and then covered her mouth as she said it, “I mean…not by you. I know my husband is…is likely a cheater and scum but I am faithful to my family.” Domino quirked an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything. “I know I know but I’m not ready to be unfaithful yet. Please s….Master. If this is a problem I understand and I’ll…” “Is this included in your paperwork?” he asked, a hint of impatience. “Yes.” She said meekly as she studied her shoes. “Yes what?” he asked becoming stern. She was a head shorter than him so she had to look up and as she fixed him with her hazel eyes he felt his loins stir restlessly again. “Yes Master.” “Good,” he purred, “then as soon as your cloths are stored in the adjoining room we can begin.” Read more »