Mistress? yes pet.
Sitting at the noisy bar with several of her girlfriends, Laylene’s eyes wandered from the conservation to a table of attractive guys. She could not take her eyes off one as she bit her lip and smiled to herself, mmm he will be perfect. Tom was a well-to-do executive who hung with his college friends at their favorite bar, but he tended to be a bit of an outsider to them. Laylene picked up on this, his demeanor was a bit more gentle. He had a certain sway to the way he moved his ass, almost swishing about. A gentle almost limp-wristed way he picked up his drinks, and his mozzarella sticks with almost dainty bites. As Tom glanced around the bar he noticed Laylene and her eyes were making such contact with his from the bar. Almost trance like as he wandered over to where she was sitting.
Hey there sissy, I am Mistress Paris. You know the rules don’t you? You do as I say, when I say it and exactly as I tell you too, in return you give me your money. I mean you don’t get someone to control your life for free, we both know you do not deserve that. Now aren’t I right? How could your pathetic ass deserve anything. That tic-tac of yours can’t even get wet. It being “hard” is just as much of a joke as your life is. But hey I think it is meant to be. I mean how else would some people be able to laugh if you weren’t everything your not.
