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Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 01

By: SusanJillParker



Dominique, a beautiful, black woman stuck in a white man's world, finds a novel way to get out of paying her rent.

"Hey Lady," said the landlord from the first floor landing.

Hey lady? Dominque stopped in mid step to face him after successfully avoiding him for the last several days. Showing him a lot of her long, black, shapely legs, the sexy side view of her beautiful, black body continued higher to the well-formed impression that her round, black ass made beneath her short skirt. The full sexy package on provocative display through her tight clothes, her short skirt and her low cut top flattered her figure. With her abundant, C cup breasts, evident by the long line of cleavage as exposed by her scalloped blouse, her erotic body was just as arousing as was her beautiful, exotic face.

Salvy leered up at Dominique as if she was a full course, Thanksgiving meal and he was a starving, homeless man eating at the mission. Eager to get away from him, from where he was standing on the first floor and with her already halfway up the stairs, she knew that he could clearly see up her short skirt. Obvious in the way that he was staring at her, leering actually, from his low vantage point and her higher one, he had a good view of her white, bikini panties.

An erotic sexual game she enjoyed playing, not minding him looking at all that she was showing and not caring what all that he was seeing, so long as he wasn't touching, she was as much the teasing exhibitionist as he was the perverted voyeur. Willing to show him what he so obviously wanted and enjoyed seeing, with her skirt raised past mid-thigh on her extended leg going up the stairs, she teased him with one foot perched on the next higher step. With her posture poised as if she were a model posing for a candid, cheesecake photo and with her long legs positioned wide open enough to give him a spread legged view of her panty clad pussy, she was such a sexy tease.

In the way that he always came rushing out of his apartment whenever he saw her coming or heard her leaving, it was obvious to her that he was hoping to get lucky with a bit of voyeurism of her skimpy underwear. In the way that he always does whenever watching her going up the stairs, instead of looking up at her pretty face or at her big tits, he stared between her legs and at her ass. Somehow always catching her in the process of walking up the stairs, when she's perched and halfway positioned on the stairway, never climbing up the staircase to meet her face to face, he's stands down on the landing while looking longingly up at her. It's as if he waits, listens, and times opening his apartment door to catch her in the best voyeuristic position that allows him to see her panties up her short skirts.

Brazenly unashamed and unembarrassed, she knew that he could see her panties from where he was standing and from where he was looking but she didn't care. A black woman in a white man's world, knowing how to play the game of sex to her most advantageous benefit, she's shown more of her hot body to worse men in her young life than him before. Accustomed to him looking, staring, and leering, taking two to play her game of exhibitionism and voyeurism, he was always looking, staring, and leering, perhaps because she was always showing. After all, showing her body while teasing men is how she gets what she wants and how she solicits her sexy clients for her games of bondage, punishment, and discipline.

Besides, the reason for her exhibitionism, giving him a cheap thrill by flashing him up skirts of her panties and down blouses of her bra and cleavage has earned her temporary reprieves from paying her rent. An unspoken code, as if an inner-city rule, a flash of her bra, along with the sight of her cleavage and the tops of her jiggling breasts in down blouses or peeks of her panty or naked pussy in up skirts, keeps Salvy interested enough not to evict her. Her tits, her pussy, and/or her ass, she could only imagine how crazed he'd be if she showed him more skin than she was showing him now. Thinking about arranging for a deliberate flashing scenario, such as pretending she just emerged from the shower and deliberately dropping her towel when she opened her door after he knocked on her apartment door for the rent, she wondered what he'd do if he saw her naked. Unable to handle seeing her beautiful, black body without her clothes, in the unhealthy condition that he was in, he'd probably have a heart attack and die.

She knows he wants her. She knows what he needs. She knows he lusts over her. She knows that he masturbates over the thoughts of having sex with her. Only this time, with her flashing her lingerie running its course and not nearly giving him enough nudity to make him want sex more than he wants her money, she knew that she was out of rent extensions. Unless she was to appear at her front door naked and give him sex, he wouldn't allow her anymore excuses why she couldn't pay her rent. Imagining him naked, worse, imagining him seeing her naked, she cringed at the thought of having sex with him.

"Dominique. My name is Dominique," she said with the attitude that only a black woman from the most depressed part of Detroit can have.

If she had a gun and could get away with it, she'd shoot him. If she had a knife, she cut open his chest to see if he had a heart and his head to see if he had a brain. If he had any intelligence and commonsense at all, he'd know not to fuck with her. Only, blinded by her beauty, he was star struck by her bodacious and voluptuous body.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I know that. I know your name," he said waving a hand of disinterest.

Funny that her name was Dominique when she was a Dominatrix. Dominique the Dominatrix had a nice ring to it. Especially when she was dressed in black leather that fit her body as if she was awash in liquid, black paint from head to toe while brandishing a whip. She looked so sexy in her Dominatrix outfit. If only he knew who she was and what she did for men to earn her money, she wondered how different he'd treat her. Would he treat her with respect or with disinterest? Would he treat her better or worse?

Even when she told men that Dominique was her name, those men who knew she was a Dominatrix didn't believe her. They thought she had invented the name to go along with her BDSM image, but she didn't have to do that. Before Dominque was born, her mother, from French Martinique, moved to Detroit with her newly married husband thirty years ago. An autoworker, he fell in love with Dominque's mother, Fiona, after they met while he was in Martinique on vacation.

Being that her father was Caucasian, lighter in skin tone than an American negro or an African black, her facial features were more of a white woman than that of a black woman. She had big, beautiful, darkly mysterious eyes. For sure, by the testimony of the long, lustful stares that most men and some women gave her, Dominique was a uniquely different looking black woman. Then, one day, a few years after she was born, laid off from work and obviously tired of being married and living with her mother, with them not knowing if he was dead, alive, or imprisoned, never hearing from him again, her father just disappeared.

"I've been living here for more than two years and I'd think you'd remember my name by now," she said with more attitude while putting a hand to her shapely hip and giving him her best, annoyed, black diva impression. In the way that an angry Halle Berry would verbally assault someone who was disrespecting her with his offensive words and with his inappropriate stares, she continued her tirade. "Maybe if you looked more at my face instead of staring at my tits and my ass, you'd recognize me," she said.

He smiled at her as if he was better than her. He stared at her as if she was just another whore who lived in his building. In the way he looked and treated her, he treated all women the same but for his mother. Only, not taking any of his guff, he didn't know that she'd give him back much more than he could take.

"Sorry but I can't help myself from staring at your tits and ass," he said with a dirty laugh. "You have big tits," he said holding his hands out in front of his chest. "And you have the best ass I've ever seen on a black woman, or on any woman, black, brown, white, red, or yellow for that matter," he said. He leered at her while giving her a low, sick laugh as if he was a dirty dog growling over a bone.

She couldn't stand the man but, in the way that all men do, she knew that he liked her, an understatement. He lusted over her was more like it. Knowing that he wanted her, if she relented and gave him sex, he'd give her free rent. After talking to her in the hall and with her showing him all that he needed to see, she knew he went to his apartment to masturbate over their brief, sexual exchanges. She could hear him and feel the whole house shaking from him pleasuring his fat body with his puny, little dick in his sweaty, little hand.

"I'd thank you but with that compliment coming from you, no doubt, you'd think that anyone willing to have sex with you has big tits and the best ass," she said.

She looked at him in the way that she looked at all men when reading them. Only, in his case, she didn't have to read him. He was so very obvious in his lust for her. With both his thoughts and sexual desire as one, he was as transparent in his thoughts as he was in his sexual desire for her. 

"I remember you. I know who you are," he said leering at her while reminding her of a taller version of Danny DeVito. "Even though you're black, you're the best looking woman in the building," he said with a sick, little laugh while flattening down the few strands of hair that was left on his mostly bald head.

Say what? Even though she's black? What Hell does that mean? Black woman can't be beautiful? Surprised he didn't call her a nigga, he had a way of riling her by what he said as much as by what he didn't say. If it wasn't for the fear of him evicting her, she'd kick his white ass.

As if getting ready for a catfight, she tossed her long, blue black, beautiful hair to one side of her head with a flick of her pretty, islander looking head and gave him a laser look that would melt a waxed candle. Well fuck you, you honky cracker, ignorant redneck, motherfucker, cocksucker of an asshole, she thought to herself but didn't say out loud. No doubt, in his case, calling him a motherfucker would be a compliment to him, as no doubt, with no one else wanting him, he was surely having sexual relations with his mother.

An improvement for him in race relations, he's come a long way. Unarmed but still dangerous, a step up from him wearing a white hood over his head while riding a horse, holding a torch, packing a gun, and carrying a noose, she was surprised that he didn't call her the best looking nigger in the building. She looked at him in the way that she looked at all older, obese, bald, white men who thought that they were good enough to bed her and thought that she wanted them. Just because she was black and they were white, seemingly, too many white men thought what black woman would ever turn down a white man for sex? Enamored with her, a real Nubian princess, she was a Katy Perry look-a-like. Only taller, better looking, possessing a much better body, and with her skin the color of light mocha, hot coffee, she had a much darker tan with beautiful skin.

"What do you want Salvy? I have to go feed my cat. I'm tired. I've been on my feet all day looking for a job," she said.

Knowing her neighbors were all at work, in school, committing criminal acts of crime and desperation throughout the neighborhood and beyond, she felt safer talking to him in the front hall than she did inviting him inside her apartment. The time of year when crime was rampant and increased tenfold, leery of men and with good reason, and with nearly every man wanting to bed her, she was careful with whom she talked to, even her landlord. Never wanting to be alone with him without it being on her terms, she didn't trust him enough for him not to try something stupid, the least of which would be for him to flash her his fat, stubby dick.

A third degree, black belt in Judo that she attained for personal protection to feel safe from men like him, she didn't want to have to go through the trouble of beating the shit out of him, filing a report, and involving the police. If she hit him and hurt him, no doubt, he'd evict her. If she hit him and hurt him, with his word against her, a white man's word against a black woman's word, she'd go to jail for assault being that her hands were lethal, registered weapons. Besides, with him owning the building and living one floor below her, a judge would never give her a restraining order against him. She'd just have to move. Not wanting to waste her time in court to deal with the likes of him, she just wanted to be left alone but always he was there whenever she was entering or leaving the building to engage her in leering, sexually harassing conversation. In his defense, having every right to expect her to pay her rent, she did owe him rent money.

"Your rent is due," he said gruffly while immediately getting to the point. "You're two months behind," he said raising his voice to show her his obvious sexual frustration with her not accepting his last few offers for sexual favors in exchange for him forgiving her rent. "Now with this month due," he said holding up three stubby, little fingers that she imagined looked exactly like his puny, little cock. "You owe me three months' rent, that's eighteen hundred dollars," he said pausing with a toothless smile while staring up as if computing the amount she owed him in his head with the answer there on his ceiling.

A twelve apartment building in the heart of downtown Harrisburg, how in the Hell does someone like him own a building like this? With him not even having a job, no doubt, it was his father's building and left to his mother and him when he died. She wouldn't put it past him to have murdered his father and stuffed his body down in the basement somewhere. With her not remembering her father, obviously a white man by her more mulatto than African black complexion, her father never gave her a damn thing, except for moving her mother from Martinique to America. A lot of good that did her mother being that she was poor. Albeit here legally, being that she wasn't born in his country, she was disenfranchised and limited to the opportunities afforded to her as opposed to American citizens.

With her mother drunk on alcohol, high on drugs, and giving away her body and self-respect to anyone paying her enough money for her to afford her rent and buy her food, Dominque hasn't had the best role models or the best life. To her credit, always having a roof over her head, at least her mother did the best she could do in keeping her family together. The best thing she ever did was to reject that way of life and to move away from Detroit. Yet, exchanging one depressed city for another depressed city, glad she didn't move to Chicago with their murder and felony crime rate, her life in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania wasn't much better than her life in Detroit, Michigan. Her dream was to one day move to New York or Boston.

Figuring she only owed him twelve hundred bucks, she now realized that today was a new month and that January's rent was due too. Too busy with interviews while looking for a full-time job that had paid benefits, one month melded into another month. With her earning a few dollars on the side with her bondage and sadomasochistic clients who had specific and special, sexual needs from their dominatrix, not totally destitute, she was having fun by punishing and disciplining men. The perfect job for her, her role as a dominatrix allowed her to take out her physical and emotional hatred on men, men who belittled her mother and emotionally, physically, and sexually hurt her too, that is, before she learned Judo. Time flies when living alone and doing whatever she needed to do to survive in the world without a man by her side subsidizing her, supporting her, and sexually satisfying her.

"I'll pay you. I told you that I'd pay you. I just need a little more time. I need to get a job first," she said. "I had three interviews today and two more tomorrow. I'm sure that I'll get one of the jobs and—"

Making her want to strike him for disrespecting her, he raised his hand to stop her from talking. In the way she stared at him with unhidden hatred, if looks could kill, he'd already be dead.

"And what?" He looked at her with disbelief. "Unless you're earning eighteen hundred dollars a week, I don't think I'll be seeing my back rent anytime soon," he said rubbing a fat hand over the stubble on his face as if thinking of something else to say with his mini brain.

Obviously he had no idea how much money she made and could make giving men what they sexually wanted and what they sexually needed. If she had a much larger client base in disciplining and punishing men who looked just like him, she could actually earn a small fortune. She could definitely earn enough money to not only pay her rent but also afford a new car and maybe even buy a house of her own.

"What are you saying Salvy? Are you going to evict me?" She looked at him with anger before softening to look at him for sympathy. "Have you no compassion at all? Christmas was only a week ago. It's still the holiday season for God's sakes. Have some mercy," she said pleading her case while playing him with her shapely body as her sexy enticement as much as it was her deadly weapon. 

She looked at him as if she was about to cry and he looked at her with lust as if he was about to run up the stairs, strip her naked, and rape her. With just one forceful blow, if she'd didn't kill him, she'd at least knock him unconscious, if he dared even try to touch her. Now confidentially in control, instead of being afraid, had she not had extensive, martial arts training, especially in the leering way that he was looking at her now, she'd fear him. Yet, someone like him, unless he craves bondage, punishment, torture, and discipline, doesn't like pain and she could give him a whole lot of pain if he dared touch her.

Then, obviously reacting to her sad face, he softened in his sexual desire for her. Looking more human, he now looked at her with sympathy albeit, no doubt, with sexual opportunity in mind. Nonetheless his sympathetic look, a real degenerate, he was such a despicable pig and if he wasn't her landlord, she'd have nothing to do with him. With him just an unpleasant memory, she couldn't wait to save up enough money to buy her own place.

"Calm down. Calm down," he said waving his hands down as if he was a traffic cop motioning her to slow down from speeding down a busy street. "Don't worry. I won't evict you. Maybe we can work out something," he said making no attempt to conceal his unnerving stare between her legs and at her panties. "I already told you that but you shot me down before I could even tell you all that I had in mind," he said looking at her as if she a celebrity star standing there on the stairs in his building.

She knew what he had in mind. Sex is what he had in mind. She knew what every man black or white had in mind when they saw her, especially for the first time. Sex is all they had in mind. 

He's confessed his sexual needs to her before. He wants to strip her naked, tie her to the bed, and masturbate while feeling and touching her where she'd never want any man, especially an old, fat, white man, to touch her. If anyone was going to strip her naked tie her to the bed, it would be a woman and not a man. Fat chance of that fat man, she wanted to say but didn't. She'd rather be gangbanged by gang members during an initiation into their gang than to have sex with his flabby, white ass.


Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 01



"Okay. I'm listening," she said tossing her lush, black hair again with a sexy flick of her pretty head while looking at him with her big, beautiful, dark, brown eyes and her pursed, full, red lips. "What do you mean by working out something?"

Lost in her beauty and sexuality, as if he was staring at Miss America or Miss Universe, just by the way he was looking at her, with sex written all over his fat face, she knew what he meant and what he was thinking. She wished she had a dollar for every time a man looked at her in the way he was looking at her now. Always having that same effect on men, white, black, brown, red, or yellow, her ability to so control men was the reason why she became a dominatrix.

As if dominating men was her natural calling, she didn't see anything wrong with using her God given gifts to take financial advantage of men, especially when she didn't even like men. Unlike her mother who gave away her body for sex, Dominque would never have sex with any man for money. It was all about the seduction, the teasing, the discipline, and the punishment. Those men who wanted and expected sex from her were better off finding another Dominatrix because she seldom had sex with a man and she never had sex with a white man.

"The world doesn't only run on money," he said laughing a dirty laugh. "There are other things that oil the wheels, if you get my meaning and catch my drift," he said undressing her with his eyes and staring at her as if she was already naked.

Having been around the block a few times before and with much better looking men than him, she understood his meaning and she caught his drift. Yet, not wanting to catch anything from him, especially a sexually transmitted disease, if he thought she had any interest in him sexually or otherwise, then he was crazier than she thought he was. He was just another short, fat, bald man wanting to hook up with a black woman because he couldn't get a white woman. Thinking that any black woman would jump in bed with him, perhaps because he's had some success with some of the black prostitutes who lived and used to live in the building, he didn't know that she was just the black woman who could readjust his way of thinking.

"I'm not having sex with you Salvy," she said pointing a manicured, index finger at him as if she was Diana Ross or Mariah Carey. Pointing at him was her unmistakable, physical way of rejecting him. "I'd rather be thrown out on the street than to have sex with someone like you," she said pitching her finger at him as if she was punctuating her sentence with a period.

She looked at him with contempt and hatred while he stared back at her with lust and desire. She couldn't even begin to imagine him naked and sweating all over her while grunting and breathing hard for the few minutes that he'd last pounding her pussy or fucking her mouth before cumming all over her beautiful, black body. Were she not lesbian, bi-sexual actually, having the image of the big, beautiful, black man that she'd freely give her body to, even if she was struck dumb and blind, Salvy wouldn't fit her image. Instead, her dream lover was a beautiful, black woman in the way of Beyonce, Vanessa Williams, and/or Venus or Serena Williams. If not a woman, her dream lover was a beautiful black man in the way of Boris Kodjoe, Shemar Moore, Usher, or RG III. Mercy, mercy, mercy, she'd willingly do any one or all four of those hot, black bodies.

"There are other things that we can do other than fucking and sucking," he said abruptly and to the point as if he was able to read her mind while knocking her out of her sexual fantasy of black celebrities. 

Shocking her with his uncensored, sexual dialogue, the image of her fucking and sucking him assaulted her senses as if he had just thrown a bucket of cold water in her face. A place where she couldn't go, even in her deepest, darkest thoughts, rather having him evict her, she'd never have sex with him. Nonetheless her detestation of him, she gave him the verbal attention that he obviously needed while continuing to flash him an up skirt view of her panties.

She stood there listening to his idiocy, the very least she had to do not to be summarily evicted. If it came down to that, her going or her staying, instead of being put out on the street by the police, she imagined giving him a blowjob for back rent but she'd never fuck him. If she did anything sexual with him at all, having sucked so very many cocks before turning lesbian more than she was bi-sexual, as her way of getting out of having intercourse, she'd suck him if she had to but, so very distasteful to her, she'd rather not do that either. Before becoming a proud, black woman and before earning her black belt in Judo, her favorite and appropriate colored belt, what she did in her past, she'd never do now. Having sucked the cocks of worse looking landlords and employers when she was young, innocent, not as angry, and not as attracted to women as she was now, she could suck him if she had to and if she must. Only, being that she was now a dominatrix, whatever she did had to be on her terms and in her control.

Rather than fucking him, she could suck him. Yeah, blowing him wouldn't nearly be as bad as allowing him to strip her naked, tie her to the bed, and mounting her while humping her. Only, she didn't think that he'd forgive eighteen hundred dollars' worth of back rent for a mere blowjob when he could get that from any prostitute on the street or in his own building for a hundred dollars or less.

She's had worse than him in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy. She thought of her wild, college days and drunken, frat parties of gangbangs and circle jerks. She thought of all of her old, horny, fat bosses who sexually used her and abused her for a few extra dollars in her paycheck. As if she was foreign and exotic, when she was an American citizen born in this country just like them, hotly erotic by her beautiful face and shapely body, white men always wanted to have sex with the beautiful, sexy black chick.

A much bigger notch on their gun, having sex with a black woman was as if they weren't really cheating on their wives and girlfriends because she was black and obviously a whore for her to have sex with them. In their way of thinking, some, white men obviously think less than her being a human. Because she was Negro or a nigger, in the way that some white people still referred to her, there was no foul to play especially with a black woman when paying her for sex.

More in demand because she was not only black but also beautiful, she thought of some of the disgusting, older, white men who paid her to do what their wives wouldn't do and what she did to them so very well. Only, until she gets her web site going, a place of her own to live, and has enough extra money to install a dungeon in her basement, she was stuck living here in this rat hole of a rundown apartment complex with him, her disgusting landlord. 

"What? What other things?"

To be continued...



Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 02



Stripped naked, blindfolded, and tied to her bed, Dominatrix Dominique disciplines her landlord.

She looked at him with disgust and he looked at her with lust. With him being a pervert and her being an inner city, proud, black, woman from Detroit, she didn't have to be a psychic to know what he meant in doing other things than sucking and fucking. Having been down this darkly, dangerous road before with so many other men, she knew exactly what he wanted and expected her to do. He wanted to strip her naked and tie her to her bed. He wanted to control her in the way that she controlled men and, so long as she wasn't helplessly tied to her bed, could easily overwhelm him if he dared defy her and give her all that he needed and wanted.

She had a choice. What she would do next was entirely up to her. Either she'd give him sex or she'd let him evict her. Either way, she wasn't paying him anymore rent.

Nonetheless her unwillingness in not wanting to pay her rent, she liked living here. A convenient downtown location, the rent was cheap enough and her apartment was spacious. If only he'd make the necessary repairs to make her apartment more livable, the reason why she withheld the rent in the first place. If only he'd make the repairs, she could see herself living here for another year or two. She had no problem paying her rent before, other than being late all the time, until he refused to fix anything.

She had the money saved and could pay him his rent but there was something that offended her in paying him to live here when he seemingly received more from her living here than she did, especially when he refused to make any repairs. Surely, there's a price to put upon all of the up skirts and down blouses that she routinely gave him and that he so enjoyed seeing. Surely, as if paying the admittance to a peepshow, those entertaining, voyeuristic glimpses of her underwear and/or naked pussy, when not wearing panties, and/or her tits, when she wasn't wearing a bra, should be deducted from her rent.

After putting up with his inappropriate behavior and bad attitude for more than two years, she figured she was even with her owning him three months' rent. If anything, he owed her for all of the masturbation fodder that she gave him with her flashing him. If anything, being that he was such a bad man with such a bad attitude, he needed to be punished and disciplined. Oh, yeah, she'd love to get him naked and tied to her bed while she whipped him until he begged her to stop.

Adding to his lack of sexual appeal to her, that is sexually appealing to her even less when men aren't paying her, other than having him forgive her rent, he confessed his fetish to bind her, discipline, and/or punish her. Already punished enough for having a pervert of a leering landlord like him interacting with her every time he caught her on the stairs, in the hall, or in front of the building, she routinely checked her apartment for hidden cameras. Any time she returned to her apartment after being away, she checked for any signs that he was in her flat going through her underwear drawer, reading her mail, looking at her pictures, and/or sabotaging her food by masturbating in it. With her not home to protect her personal and private possessions, she wouldn't put it past him to do any one of those things or all of those things.

A real sexual deviate, she wouldn't put it past him to spy on her while watching her dressing, undressing, showering, and/or masturbating herself in the assumed privacy of her bedroom. Not wanting to give away anything for free, she wouldn't mind giving him such a sexy, sexual show, so long as he paid her handsomely for the pleasure of showing him her shapely, black, naked body. She'd give him all that he wanted to see and more than he'd even bargained for, so long as he paid her for the pleasure of the pain that she'd surely give him and the discipline he'd get to make him a more obedient and better man.

"A little bondage goes a long way with me towards paying off your rent," he said flashing her his toothless smile.

Even though she knew he was nuts, she couldn't help from looking at him as if he was nuts.

"Lemme get this straight Salvy," she said. "You want me to strip you naked?" With confusion written all over his face, she looked at him shaking his head no. "And you want me to tie you up and beat you? Is that it?" As if he was already tied naked to her bed, as if she was a black, widow spider, and he was a horsefly caught in her web, she gave him a sexy smile. "I can do that," she said with a sexy laugh.

Even though he had no idea of her mental stability or instability, he looked at her as if she was nuts when, indeed, he was the crazy one to be messing with her while thinking that he'd ever get the better of her.

"No, no, that's not what I mean. The other way around," he said as if he needed to explain himself to her of all people. "I strip you naked and I tie you to your bed," he said pointing his fat, stubby finger at her before wiping the drool from his lip with the back of his hand.

"Oh, I see," she said. "I misunderstood. I had that the other way around, didn't I?"

"You sure did," he said. "You tickle my fancy, if you catch my drift and know what I mean, and I'll be kind to your pocketbook. You be nice to me and I'll be nice to you," he said giving her a big, overly exaggerated wink that looked like it hurt his face. "You be nice to me and you'll never have to pay another dollar in rent again."

No doubt his sexual fantasy come true, she imagined herself stripped naked and tied to her bed while he had his wicked way with nude, black body. Not the type of women who'd willingly and readily submit to any man, especially to a white man who was a non-paying customer, she was more the in control type of black woman. If anyone was going to be stripped naked and tied to the bed, he'd be the one rather than her. If anyone was going to be punished and disciplined he'd be the one punished and disciplined and not her. Especially after all the shit he's put her through over the last two years of repairs that he's still yet to make, he should be so lucky to ever get her naked and tied to her bed. He'd have to drug her for her to allow him to touch her.

He's such a nasty, nitwitted asshole for him to even think that she'd exchanged a lousy six hundred dollar a month rent, eighteen hundred when factoring in all of her past-due rent, for her professional, sexual services. As he just mentioned, perhaps if he gave her a free rent pass for the length of time she lived here, she'd consider his proposition but unless there was a written agreement to that, she couldn't trust them. Besides even with a written agreement, null and void once she removed her clothes for sex, whatever agreement she made with him for exchanging rent for sex would be deemed prostitution and would never stand up in a court of law.

Besides, never would that happen with her having sex with him. He has no idea who she really is and how much she charges for the services that she gives to disgusting, perverted men like him. If only she had more customers and if only she had her own place with a dungeon, she'd be earning so much more money than what she's earning now. Yet, until she gets things going and grows her client list, going underground as a secret Dominatrix, she needs a good paying job to allow her to save enough money to buy a place of her own.

"Bondage? You want to tie me to my bed?"

He smiled and nodded his head up and down as if he was trying to shake coins from his ears.

"Yeah, baby, I'd love to tie you naked to your bed," he said wiping the back of his fat hand across his salivating mouth before grabbing his tiny package with his hand as if he was a fat, white Michael Jackson.

Now he was talking her language. Now he was just another contestant in her BDSM game. As if striking a familiar chord in her psyche, now talking her language and wanting to willingly play her game for her to play him, she looked at him now with more interest than disgust. As if she was a wicked witch who was about to turn him into a frog by casting a spell over his fat ass, she gave him a sinister stare. Not even knowing who he was dealing with, he was pushing his luck. Yet, after having flashed him her panties and with him talking bondage with her, she was already aroused into sexual, physical, emotional, and combative action. This poor, dumb man had no idea what he was asking her to do. If only he knew what she was capable of, not his typical, helpless victim, he'd be much better off finding someone else to lust over than wasting his time and energy with being aroused by her, especially when she'd never give him his sexual fantasy.

"Bondage?" She played the innocent woman, a role she enjoyed playing. "What do you mean by bondage? Why kind of bondage?"

She looked at him while smiling. She knew that when she smiled, she was even more irresistibly beautiful. Now that she thought more about it, she wouldn't mind whipping his fat ass for being such a shit of a man and a creep of a landlord. 

"I tie you to the bed and blindfold you," he said smiling at her as if he needed to explain anything to her. "Then I undress you."

Laughing at his audacity, if ever he paid her enough money to strip her beautiful, black body naked and to tie her beautiful, black body to her bed, she imagined him exposing his fat, little prick to her with the hopes of her sucking him. Good luck with that. Good luck with getting her naked and good luck with tying her to her bed.

He was such a pathetic, little man. If only he knew that she could stomp him and crush him beneath her boots in the way of the little insect that he was. If only he knew she could hurt him with a kick of her foot, a punch of her hand, or a submission hold of his neck, arm, or leg, he'd apologize to her for even dare looking at her never mind talking to her in such a vilely and sexually explicit way. If only he knew that she could end him she he get violent in his sexual attraction of her.

"Fat chance, fat man," she said ready to leave him and his perversity behind for the security of her apartment.

Giving her the look that she needed to see as her measurement and barometer of the man that she needed to know he was or wasn't, he looked at her as if he enjoyed her talking to him in a disrespectful tone. Interesting, now with the tables turned, she settled into her role as Dominatrix instead of the role as the in arrears in rent tenant.

"C'mon, it's just a little role play is all that it is and all that I want," he said. "Allow me to explain to you how it works. I pretend you're my black slave and you pretend that I'm a plantation owner. I strip you naked, tie you to your bed, and we have a black slave doing everything she can to please her white master. What do you say?"

Say what? Me a black slave? You a plantation owner? A black slave doing everything she can to please her white master? You're crazy.

Mother fucker, cock sucker, honky cracker ass to think that she'd play the slave game with anyone, especially not with him. Fuck you, she thought to herself while imagining sticking the butt end of her whip up his ass sideways. How this Massa? How do you like me now? Are you having fun yet?" She imagined turning and twisting her whip deeper inside of his ass.

This man was on drugs to think that she'd revert back to a time when her people were enslaved, beaten, tortured, raped, and brutalized. He was crazy to think that he could treat her as a black, female slave, when she's worked so very hard on her character and her education to live herself from out of her Detroit ghetto to be the person she is now. The fortitude and strength she received in poverty to become the proud, black woman that she is now was a real struggle. She'd never allow any man to treat her less than she thought who she was. How dare he even talk to her as if she was less than what she is and much less that he is?

Having the confidence of a black diva, the advanced degreed education of a professional woman, and the self-respect and the daring nerve of a dominatrix, she had the physical training that comes with having a black belt in Judo to physically back her up whenever her wits failed her. Never ceasing to be surprised, it always amazed her what came out of the mouths of some ignorant, white men when daring to talk their trash to her. Men who thought that they were better than her because she was black and they were white renewed and restored her hatred for white folks. More than that, it always amazed her what she could get away with in responding to someone like him. Having the big balls of a scary, prejudiced, white man instead of a sexy, shapely beautiful, black woman, she'd never allow her race and/or anyone white or black to hold her back. Nonetheless, her hatred for him, she humored him by continuing to engage him in conversation for the sake of making a deal for him to forgive her back due rent.

"Pray tell, I'm just curious to know. Once you have me tied to my bed and helpless, what's to stop you from raping me and/or sticking your stubby, little dick in my mouth and forcing me to suck you until you cum in my mouth and I swallow you?"

She threw up a little in her mouth while thinking of him forcing her to suck him, him cumming in her mouth, and her swallowing his cum. Now that she thought more about giving him a blowjob in exchange for him forgiving her paying the rent, she'd rather take a beating than to take his cock in her mouth. She'd rather swallow nails than to swallow his cum. A more appealing alternative, being that she was bi-sexual and now more lesbian than heterosexual, she'd rather have sex with his elderly mother than to have sex with him.

"You don't have to worry about that," he said waving a hand of disinterest. "With my diabetes and low testosterone, I can't get it up anymore. Other than with my own hand, I can't remember when I had an erection hard enough and long enough to penetrate anything more than my tissue," he said with a sad, little laugh.

Aware that he lived alone with his elderly mother and with no one really knowing what happens behind closed doors, she had an image of him walking around naked in front of his mother. She had an image of him sitting in the bathtub while his mother washed more than just his back. She could just see his mother stroking and/or sucking his cock for him to receive some perversely perverted relief. Being the pervert that he was, she had an image of him spying on his mother dressing and undressing. On the pretense of having to pee, coming in the bathroom when his mother was naked while bathing or showering, she had the image of him masturbating for his mother while she gave him a naked show of her old, wrinkled body. Having heard it all and seen it all before, she wouldn't be shocked to find out that they were sleeping together in the same bed and having sex. 

In the way he was inappropriately interacting with her, no doubt, wishing she would sexually satisfy him, she wondered if he inappropriately interacted with his mother in the same way. She wondered if he coerced his mother to give him hand jobs and/or forced her to suck him. Not being surprised if he did, she wondered if he lusted over his mother in the way that he now lusted over her. If only by the mere fact that he still calls his mother, Mommy, too touchy and feely, they sometimes seem unusually, unhealthily, and inappropriately close.

Being that he doesn't have a woman in his life and his mother doesn't have a man in her life, she suspected that they had more than the typical mother and son relationship. She suspected they were having sex. She suspected that he wanted to have the same sexual relationship with her that he was having with his mother. Making her want to vomit, just the image of the both of them naked made her sick to her stomach.

"Then, I don't understand," she said leaning against the wall to see him better now that the second floor landing wasn't obstructing her view from looking down at him leering up at her.

She lowered her raised foot down a step and closed her legs to deny him from continuing to stare up her short skirt at her panties. Normally she doesn't wear panties but with her going on job interviews today, denying him a view of her trim, black pussy, she was glad that she was wearing panties today. Besides, in the way that he was always engaging her in conversation while staring at her, no doubt, he's seen her trim, black pussy many times before. Only on her terms, only her paid clients have the privilege of seeing, touching, licking, and fucking her pussy and only when she wants to be seen, touched, licked, and fucked. 

"What's not to understand? My sexual needs are simple," he said with a sick smile.

Such a disgusting, foul pig, he looked at her while fondling himself through his pants obviously in the way that he wished she'd fondle him through his pants. Being his gud nigga, she imagined playing the part of the black slave while he played the part of the rich plantation owner. 

'Yessa Massa, may I touch your cock? May I stroke your cock Massa? May I suck your cock Massa? Please stick your white cock in my black pussy Massa.'

"If you can't get it up anymore, what's in it for you to strip me naked, tie to my bed, blindfold, and to have me so vulnerable?"

Knowing his type and as if she could read his mind, she imagined him masturbating in the corner while staring at her naked body in the way that he, no doubt, does with his mother, the sick fuck that he is.

"I like seeing a good looking broad like you without her clothes while I masturbate in the corner," he said. "That's it. Nothing else. I strip you naked, tie you up, blindfold you, and masturbate. Nothing more."

Knowing his type, she figured as much.

"So you only want to see me naked, is that it?"

She gave him a sexy look as if she was already standing there naked and was ready to have sex with him.

"Yeah, but more than that. The fact that you're seemingly helpless while I undress you is what floats my boat," he said looking at her as if he was dying of thirst and she was an ice, cold beer. "I get off on stripping and tying up women."

'You do, huh? Well, after stripping them naked and tying them to my bed, I get off disciplining, punishing, and hurting men like you,' she wanted to say but didn't.

He looked at her with sexual excitement and hopefulness and she looked at him with disgust and boredom. Normally what she does to men, strip them naked and tie them to their beds, is what he wanted to do to her. Not a very likely scenario for him to realize, how dare he think that she'd allow him to do to her what she does to men? If only she had a dungeon, she'd show him what she really does. If only she could give him the full treatment of her in a Dom/sub relationship, he'd never dare speak disrespectfully and inappropriately again. If only she had a sawed-off shotgun, she'd shoot him dead where he stands.

Having no interest in him stripping her naked and tying her to her bed, no matter how much rent he forgave her and how much money he offered to pay her, she'd never allow any man to get her in a vulnerable position where she couldn't free herself to defend herself. She'd never be in a position where she was unable stop him from hurting her again in the way that men have hurt her in the past. Obviously, unbeknownst to him, with him thinking that she was hot, she was not hot in the way he thought she was. Preferring women more, she didn't even like most men, especially white men. Except for fine, black men and especially disliking white men who looked like him and white men who looked at her in the way that he was leering at her now, he'd never get her in a vulnerable position.

"I've never been tied up before," she said submissively while telling the truth. "I've never been helpless before for a man to do whatever he wants to do to my naked, beautiful, black body without me being able to stop him," she said blinking her eyes with feign innocence albeit telling him the truth again.




Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 02



Talking over her by telling her more that he wanted to do to her, he ignored her refusal for him to strip her naked and tie her to her bed.

"Also, while you're tied to the bed naked, as part of our little, rent forgiveness deal," he said with arrogance. "I'd like to touch you and feel you too," he said getting even more excited as if he was imagining her tied to her bed naked while touching her and feeling her.

Maybe this is what he does with his mother, strip her naked, and touch and feel her but, he was never going to do that with her. Definitely, he was a psycho and if he ever had her so helplessly tied to her bed, what's the stop him from really hurting her or worse? With her arms and legs bound, she'd never allow him or any man to have her so helplessly defenseless. Trained to defend herself from that ever happening to her, she could only imagine the look her Sensei would give her if she told him that she allowed some perverted man to strip her naked and tie her to the bed while touching her and feeling her.

"And what do I get out of showing you my naked body while allowing you to touch and feel my tits, squeeze my ass, and finger my pussy?"

Sexually teasing him by talking explicitly dirty to him, as if already giving him hot pillow talk and as if this sexual fantasy was going to be his reality, she had his undivided attention now. Yet, she could never envision herself allowing him or any man, especially a white man, to control her in the way that he wanted to control her and in the way that she certainly and easily could control him and them. Rather than giving him the upper hand, punishing him, she'd much rather turn the tables on him and whip and beat him into submission before disciplining him. If anyone was going to be the bitch, she'd make him her bitch. If anyone was going to be the aggressor, it would be her.

"What do you get by allowing me to tie you to the bed and touch and feel your naked body? I'll tell you want you get. You get a clean slate. Paid in full," he said wiping his hands together and moving them quickly apart as if removing dirt from his hands. "You won't owe me a dollar until next month's rent," he said excitedly as if he was about to make a sale in selling her a vacuum cleaner or a used car. "And if you're really good to me, if you catch my drift and know what I mean, you may never have to pay rent here again while living here."

As if a dishonest salesman, he said she'd never have to pay rent again as if he was trying to sell her a warranty for a defective product instead of accepting it back as a return. Too good to be true, she looked at him as any distrusting customer would while not buying whatever he was selling.

"I see," she said looking at him as if she was thinking about his obscene proposal when she had no intention of giving him the upper hand of her naked body or paying him another dollar in rent.

"Then, if you don't have the rent next month," he said with a shrug and a dirty laugh. "Maybe if you're agreeable to my offer, we can put our heads together again as we're doing now and come up with something else that will keep you paid up-to-date with sex instead of with money."

Eww. Gross. She was angry that someone like him would dare even think that he could get with her never mind get anything over her and/or get her in such a passively, submissive position where he could control her. Having learned from experience, the bigger the man, the more submissive they are when confronted by a strong woman who knows how to treat them and punish them into submission before disciplining them.

"Sex for rent," she said. "Such a novel idea," she said with a smile while laughing to herself. Knowing full well that it happens all the time with landlords taking sexual advantage of not only women but also men too, he wasn't about to do that with her. "How did you ever think up such a thing?"

"Ah," he said swiping a downward hand through the air in the way that Jethro Bodine, played by Max Baer, Jr., of the Beverly Hillbillies used to do. "I'm always thinking, especially when inspired by such a beautiful, black broad who has such a shapely ass and big boobs as you have," he said tapping his head with his index finger.

As if he was tapping an empty coconut, she could have sworn she heard a hollow sound. With the ability to read and 'cipher, she was waiting for him to brag that he had a third grade education in the way that Jethro was always so quick to do with Miss Jane Hathaway of the Beverly Hillbillies, played by Nancy Culp.

"Okay, but if you tell anyone in the building that I agreed to go along with this Salvy, trade sex in exchange for you forgiving me my rent," she said pointing her finger at him again but this time as if her finger was a loaded gun. "I'll kill you." Being that she was so trained in martial arts and with her mere calloused knuckles as deadly as a gun, her subtle sign that she was no one to fuck with, her fingers may as well have been loaded.

Testing the waters to see his reaction to her being so strongly self-confident, arrogant, and self-reliant, she reasserted herself not for her benefit but for his. As if he could read her mind and knowing what she so wanted in exchange for him even touching her, never mind stripping her naked and tying her to her bed, she watched him already cave and submit to her unspoken demands by forgoing the rent. A cakewalk, a big fat, pussy cat, he was so easy, too easy to control with just the mere promise of sex. She's known a lot of men like him, even much worse than him. It was then that she knew she could get all that she wanted and all that she needed from him with just a few stern words and a few hard whips on his naked ass.

"Seriously? You'd really allow me to strip you naked, tie you to the bed, and touch and feel you while I masturbated?"

Looking at her as if he was a little boy and she was an amusement ride at Disney World, he looked at her with disbelief. Not trusting her by his look, never having trusted anyone by his own admission, including his own mother, he looked at her as if there was a catch. He stood there, no doubt waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"Yeah, sure, why not? You have what I need, the ability to forgive my rent and I have what you want, my hot body," she said moving her hands down in the way of a Price Is Right model showing a showcase.

She put a hand to her shapely hip again and gave him a sexy stare while moving her foot up a step while spreading her legs more apart to give him another look at her panty.

Grabbing at his crotch again to finger the head of his cock through his pants, he looked at her as if he just won the lottery. He looked at her as if she was already naked. He looked at her as if he was already masturbating over her.

"You're really okay with this?" Obviously a man who was routinely disappointed in the past, by asking his question again, he wanted to make that she wasn't kidding. "You'd really allow me to strip you naked, tie you to your bed, and touch and feel you?"

He looked at her as if he couldn't believe his ears.

"I've done worse. Yet, if I agree to this, I do have conditions," she said.

To be continued...



Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 03



Salvy agrees to Dominque's conditions before stripping her naked and tying her to her bed.

With openly expressed and sexually explicit conditions routinely part and parcel to what she does behind closed, bedroom doors, Dominique always had conditions before promising to have sex with anyone, man or woman. Whether to have sex with him and/or to discipline and punish him, outlining what she wanted and expected from any lover that she took to her bedroom or dungeon, whenever she'd get a dungeon of her own, she always put forth her own personal agenda. As if a general mapping out her strategy on a battlefield, Dominique never engaged in any type of sexual contact without outlining her conditions.

Conditionally agreeing to take Salvy on as a client, when he didn't even know he'd be subjected to her bondage and discipline, he was in for a big surprise. With her sex games filled with conditions, her stated requirements were her way to instill her control over him and over any man before she accepted him as a client. The more willing the subject, in the way that Salvy obviously was, the more conditions she had and the easier it was to control him.

"Conditions? Okay," he said looking at her with as much curiosity as he looked at her with lust. "What are your conditions? Anything Dominique, anything, just tell me and I'll go along with any and all of your conditions. So long as you allow me to strip you naked, tie you to your bed, and touch and feel you everywhere, I'll agree to any condition you want," he said acting so happy and agreeable when he's always so miserable and disagreeable. 

Something he's never been, especially when asked to fix what's broken in her apartment, he's always been such a dirty bastard. Suddenly now that she agreed to have him strip her naked and tie her to her bed, he remembers her name. Now that she had him hooked on her line, she reeled him into her trap. She just needed to get him in her apartment to close the door and officially seal the deal.

*   *   *   *   *

"My first condition is that you must tie me loosely enough so that I can get out on my own," she said while giving him an innocent albeit business like smile.

She'd never allow any man to tie her to her bed loose or tight. Always one up on every man, she'd never allow any man to get the better of her. Other than forgiving her rent, there's nothing that he has that she wants.

If only he knew that it was women that turned her on and not men, she wondered what he'd say. She wondered if he'd still want her in the way that he obviously does now if he knew that she was more of a licker than she was a sucker. If only he knew she was bi-sexual and more lesbian than heterosexual, probably, he'd change his tune in asking to tie her to her bed. Perhaps, instead, he'd ask to watch her having sex with her female lover and/or want to participate in a threesome.

Only, the women she had sex with, hard core lesbians, would never have sex with a man. The lesbian women she had sex with would rather be skinned alive than to have sex with a man. If only he knew that she truly despised most men, especially white men like him, for all that they've done to her in her past, afraid to cross her, he'd never accept her invitation to be alone with her in her apartment. If only he knew she had a black belt in Judo and could really hurt him, if he dared tried to hurt her, she wondered if he'd still be agreeable to being alone with her. If only he knew what she had in store for him, he'd never bother her again.

"Sure, I can do that. I can tie you loose enough so that you can get out on your own," he said wiping an eager hand across his lips. "No problem. Being that's a fair condition for you to have with your safety in mind, absolutely, I agree to that condition."

He must think that she's as dumb as he is. She knew that once he had her naked, that he'd tie her tight enough so that she couldn't escape. She knew that once he had her naked and tied to her bed, other than to lead her to the bathroom while still helplessly bound and blindfolded, he'd never let her go.

Not a very attractive man to begin with, he was even more unattractive now in the way that he was leering at her. As if there was something seriously wrong with him and there was, with his eyes bulging out of his eye sockets and with his mouth hanging open, he looked at her as if she was already naked. Being the dirty dog that he was and as if she was a raw piece of meat, he was drooling, no doubt, with the thoughts of her sucking and fucking him or him eating and fucking her. He looked at her in the way that a madman looks at his intended victim before knifing them thirty-seven times and after doing unspeakable things to their naked bodies.

She couldn't believe that he was undoubtedly salivating over the prospect of stripping her naked, tying her to her bed, blindfolding her, and having his wicked, sexual way with her while touching and feeling her everywhere. If she was so helplessly bound, he'd touch her in places where she'd never want to be touched by him. No doubt and without question, he'd do unspeakable things to her naked body that would cause her years of psychological therapy. Understandable why he'd want to strip her naked and tie her to her bed, she's most every man's sexual fantasy and some women's sexual fantasy too. Knowing full well that she's not the only one that he's given this proposition to, she wondered how many other woman who couldn't afford to pay their rent that he's had sexual success with over the years.

"My second condition is that I may consensually agree for you to touch me and feel me but you cannot touch and feel me without my permission first," she said. "You must wait until I'm ready for you to touch me and/or feel me. For me to feel safe, I need for you to obey this condition and promise not to violate and/or sexually assault me without me first agreeing to have consensual sex with you," she said. She made eye contact with him and maintained eye contact with him while waiting for him to answer her.

Even though she'd never allow him to strip naked, she'd never allow him to see her naked body either. Even though she'd never allow him to touch and/or feel her, permission or not, she needed to let him know that she was the one in control and not him. As if she was a carney at a carnival and he was just another sucker waiting to be taken. Keeping him sexually excited by thinking that she was agreeable to having sex with him, she needed to give him her conditions for her to break them before he could. Lulling him into believing that today was his lucky day to have sex with her, she knew that no matter what her conditions were that he'd never abide by them.

"No touching and no feeling until you tell me it's okay to touch and feel you. Got it. Yep, sure, I agree to that condition too," he said.

As if he needed that extra motion of his head to show her that he agreed to her condition, he nodded his head. Albeit looking at her with disappointment before looking at her with sexual anticipation, she knew he wouldn't abide by that condition either. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him and being that he weighed close to three hundred pounds, forget about throwing him very far, she couldn't toss him at all.

Having been down this road many times before with many better men than him and other men in the likes of him and worse, she wanted to make sure that she spelled out everything for him to understand and agree to ahead of time. The last thing she wanted was a physical confrontation. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him in the way that she's had to physical subdue, beat into submission, and hurt other men who wouldn't abide by her conditions and/or who wouldn't take no for an answer.

"My condition number three is that you can't cum on me," she said. Seemingly a strange condition for her to have being that she was agreeing to have intimate, sexual contact with him, she was physically adverse and would be violently ill if a man, any man, ejaculated cum on her. "Gross. Eww! I couldn't take enough showers to remove the smell of you from me," she said making a bitter face.

Becoming more lesbian than heterosexual with every man she came in sexual contact with, the only time she felt safe, even with her having mad Judo skills, was when she was with a woman rather than when with a man. Besides, her stomach rolled with the thought of him cumming all over her face and tits while she was bound, blindfolded, naked, and helpless to stop him. Definitely in knowing the despicable and perversely perverted man that he was, he'd break all of her conditions if she gave him the chance, especially the one about him giving her a sudden cum bath.

"Okay, being that I'd love to give you a cum bath, that's a weird one for me to agree to but I agree not to cum on you. It's a deal," he said staring at her while, no doubt, waiting for her to state another condition. In the way that he was leering at her, she knew that once she was naked and tied to her bed, that he'd cum all over her face and tits. "Is that it? Are those all of your conditions?"

Fat chance. She knew if she was tied to her bed and naked, he wouldn't abide by any of her conditions, the least of which would be tying her loosely enough for her to escape, touching her, feeling her without her permission, and cumming all over her beautiful, black body. Nonetheless, best that she give him her conditions, so that he wouldn't suspect that there was anything amiss, being that he was a man and a crazy unpredictable man at that, she needed the element of surprise to trick him into letting his guard down. If only he knew the only sexual play that she was intent on playing was foul play, she didn't think he'd want to play her game of bondage, punishment, and discipline.

"Other than you forgiving the rent, those are all of my conditions," she said making sure that he understood and agreed to her requirements before having sex with him by reiterating her conditions. "You must tie me loose enough for me to escape on my own. No touching and/or feeling me without my expressed permission to do so first, and no cumming on me."

Appearing annoyed as if he was bored with playing games, obviously he just wanted to get on with stripping her naked and tying her to her bed.

"Yes, I agree to forgive the rent in exchange for your sexual favors," he said rubbing his hands together as if he was a fly about to land on a big piece of steaming, smelly dog excrement.

In the way of the Pillsbury Dough Boy eating too much dough or in the way of the Michelin man eating one too many tires, with his shoulders back and his stomach pushed out, he looked at her as if he was ready to explode with sexual excitement. With just her words and her stern attitude, he already had a little woody. Obviously she sexually excited him enough that he already appeared as if he was going to prematurely ejaculate in his pants. She could only imagine what he'd be like when she really gave him her proper commands to obey and submit. She could only imagine what he'd be like when she punished him and disciplined him.

"Give me a few minutes to get ready and then come upstairs and knock on my door," she said giving him such an inviting smile.

*   *   *   *   *

Walking up the stairs in the dark, seemingly oblivious to another light being out in the hall, a light he promised to fix, it was already treacherously dark in the hallway when Salvatore walked up the flight of steps to Dominique's apartment on the second floor. Unbeknownst to Salvy, as comfortable skulking around in the dark as she was in the light, being that she sometimes trained in the dark at the dojo, using the darkness to her advantage, Dominique actually preferred the dark to the light.

"Dominique," he said knocking. Without waiting for her to respond to his knock, he knocked again. "Dominique," he said knocking the second time without waiting for her to respond to his first knock. "Dominique," he said knocking a third time as quickly as the first two knocks. As if he was Dr. Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory knocking on Penny's door, he was such an annoying, fat man.

After knocking and calling out her name three times and with him receiving no response from within, he turned the doorknob and slowly creaked open her unlocked, front door. But for her squeaky front door creaking open, as if this scene was the introduction to a horror movie and, indeed it was, it was eerily quiet, even scary inside Dominique's apartment. Still waiting for him to apply some WD40, she asked him to grease her hinges months ago. The least of her problems with a broken sink, a running toilet, an apartment that needed to be painted and fumigated, and a roof that leaked, she's still waiting for him to fix her broken windows that gushed in cold air.

Being that he was the type of selfish, self-centered, and self-absorbed man, he only thought of himself and never anyone else. A man who only thought of himself, he'd never take time out of his day to fix anything that was broken and/or to help anyone else. A man of six appetites, money, sex, food, tobacco, and liquor, and in that order, she wondered where his mother fit in his personal equation of happiness and self-centeredness.

A grown man in his forties who never married, never had children, and who is still living at home with his mother is not normal and not living a normal, fully developed life. Typical of the type of man he was and the type of man who hired her for her unique services, with his mother in her sixties and with him in his forties, she wouldn't be surprised if they were sleeping in the same bed as man and wife while having sex. Definitely, in the bitch that his mother was and the bastard that he was, two peas happy together in their own pod, they deserved one another.

With not a light on in the apartment, the flat was pitch black. One would think that with her extending him a sexual invitation that he would have had the forethought and the courtesy to go down to the cellar first to turn on her heat, lights, and water that he turned off before she arrived home. One would think that after he engaged her in conversation on the stairway and after they made a sexual and financial agreement for her to give him sex in exchange for him forgiving the rent that he would have turned on all that he turned off. 

One would think that he would have given her some concession to make her feel more safely comfortable as his sign of good faith after agreeing to this sexual and financial proposition before making his way up the upstairs. One would think that if it was his sexual desire and if he had indeed hoped to see her tied naked to her bed that he would have given her the electricity necessary for her to have lights and for him to see her naked. An easy man to beat at chess, if he even knew how to play the game, one would think that he would have thought about such things. Only too sexually excited to ponder anything else but her shapely, sexy, and naked, black body, obviously he doesn't think beyond that. One would think with her accepting his offer for him to strip her naked and agreeing for him to tie her to her bed that she'd be standing at her front door to greet him and indeed she was.

*   *   *   *   *

Waiting for him to walk over her threshold and to step inside her apartment, her private domain, with Dominique standing behind her front door when he entered without her expressly inviting him inside, she closed her front door behind him with a loud slam and locked it. Trapped like the rat that he was, he didn't know it, but he was doomed.

"Bang!"

Physically jumping up off the floor, Salvy literally jumped out of his skin.

"Gees, that fucking scared the shit out of me." Not wanting him to make a mess on her floor, she hoped his statement was only figuratively true and not literally true and that he didn't shit is pants. "Dominque? Where are you? I can't see a thing," he said standing still and not moving.

Had he replaced the light in the front hall, the light would have ruined her element of surprise. The hall light would have illuminated her front door and as soon as he opened her apartment door, before she slammed it shut and locked it, would have given him plenty of light to see her. With Salvy already at a big disadvantage and the cards in her favor with the light out, the only one who could see anything in her darkened apartment was Dominique.

Invisibly undetectable while comfortable in the dark, quietly and stealthily, using her marital arts training to quietly step about him to make her appear as if she's a silent assassin, she moved around her apartment as she was if a Ninja warrior and he was an intruder. Sabotaging himself by putting himself in harm's way, and in anticipation of her not paying her rent, too bad he had already turned off her heat and power. Knowing he would, it didn't surprise her that he had turned off the water, too. Yet, after she's done with him, no doubt about it, at the very least, along with her free rent, she'd get her heat, power, and water restored.

Completely in the dark, with the darkness temporarily disorienting him, but with darkness her friend, as if she was a blind woman, she didn't need a light to move around freely in her own apartment in the dark. Immediately turning the tables on him, she turned on a bright, powerful light, a police flashlight that she always kept at the ready for protection. As if he was a felon being questioned at a police station during interrogation, she watched him negatively overreact to the bright light.

"Hey, what the fuck? You're blinding me with that light," he said. "Turn it off," he demanded.

With her self-defense training, she didn't need much of a weapon to protect herself, especially from the likes of him. In the way of Jason Bourne in his Bourne film series when he defended himself with just a ballpoint pen, even a ballpoint pen will do in a pinch when there's nothing else handy. When not using the hardened steel, pointy case of her flashlight as a weapon, her preferred and easily concealed weaponry, she used a metal, Japanese Kubotan or small, hand held, Yawara stick. Armed with just her flashlight, she didn't even need to turn on the strobe light that the flashlight came equipped with to disorient him. With a mere light beam powerful enough to defeat him, she set the lens at the brightest position and shined the bright light in his eyes to temporarily blind and disorient him.

"Take off those clothes fat man," said Mistress Dom dressed in all black leather as if she was playing the role of Cat Woman on steroids.

With her blue black hair glistening even in the dark from the dim light that filtered through her dirty windows, it was difficult to discern where her black leather left off and her mulatto skin began. Never standing in one place for more than a second, she spun and twirled around him to disorient him with her light. With not even the whites of her eyes visible to him with her quick movements, her long, line of light streaming through the darkness as if a mini comet traveling through the sky was her invisible cloak.

"Dominique? What are you doing? I can't see you with that light shining in my eyes. Turn it off," he said shading his eyes with his forearm and hand while turning too late to where she was to see where she is now. "Where are you?"

Always so confidently aggressive when in his role as the mean and nasty landlord, he looked frightened as her submissive little man. Dazed and disoriented, he didn't appear as confidently in control as he always is when shouting at her from the bottom of the stairs while staring up her short skirt at her white bikini panties or at her naked, black, trimmed pussy. She was the one in control now and not him.

"It's Mistress Dom to you," she said slapping his fat ass hard with her whip through his pants.




Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 03



As if he was about to cry, he rubbed himself where she whipped him.

"Hey, what the fuck? We had a deal. I'm supposed to tie you up and undress you," he said pathetically. "We didn't agree to you whipping me."

She whipped him again and again, only each time harder and harder.

"That was your deal. Not mine. Now, this is my deal. I know what you want. I know what you need. Now strip off your clothes and get naked fat man," she said whipping him again and again. "Get naked now!"

Obviously not wanting to be whipped again, he didn't waste any time in stripping off his clothes.

"Ow! That fucking hurts. Okay, okay, just don't hit me again. That really hurts," he said.  "Just don't whip me anymore."

"That's better," she said.

Immediately Salvy began stripping out of his clothes to soon stand before her vulnerably naked in the way that he wanted her to stand before him vulnerably naked.

"I'm undressing. I'm taking off my clothes," he said undressing. "There, I'm naked," he said holding out his hands at his side.

Taking pleasure in forcing him to undress, as if some magical feat in forcing a pervert to expose himself, she lit him up with her flashlight to watch him undress. With his rolls of fat hidden by his shirt and pants, he was even fatter without his clothes. She was right about his cock too. It was so small. She'd think with him exposing his cock to her that he'd have an erection but he didn't. Maybe he wasn't lying to her about him having Diabetes. Maybe he can no longer have an erection. Whether he had Diabetes and/or couldn't get an erection, it was of no consequence for what she had in mind for him.

"Now get on the bed and move your arms and legs in the position of a starfish," she said pulling out ties from her belt as if she was a police officer ready to handcuff a suspect.

She lit his way to her bed with her flashlight before tying his wrists and his ankles much tighter that she told him that she wanted him to tie her. Bound and naked, there was no escaping her tight ties. Then, lifting his head by the handful of hairs that he had left on his nearly bald head, she tied a blindfold around his eyes. Stark naked and helplessly vulnerable, he was now ready for her instruction.

"Hey, easy. That hurts," he said to her when she pulled his head up by his hair. "What are you going to do to me? Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. I'll forget about the rent that you owe," he said. "Okay. Just let me go back downstairs to my mother. She needs her medication," he said lying when she knew that his mother was still at the Senior Daycare Center.

She looked at this pathetic fat man who thought because he was born white that he was better than her. How dare he? Ignorant in his thought and foul in his manners, he was just the type of man that she so enjoyed disciplining and punishing.

"You need to be taught a lesson in manners and in respect. Let me ask you a question Salvy."

To be continued...



Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 04



Landlord gets what he deserves from tenant who can't afford to pay her rent.

Shining her light on him as if he was being interrogated by the CIA in a tent in Afghanistan, she used her light as her lie detector to discern if he was lying or telling the truth.

"A question? You want to ask me a question? Yeah, sure. Go ahead," he said. "Ask me anything and I'll answer it honestly."

Not only was this fun, this was too easy.

"Are you having sex with your mother?"

Feeling ridiculous asking him such a question, when she already knew the answer, she almost didn't want him to answer her question. She was tempted to ask him if he picked his feet in Poughkeepsie in the way that Popeye Doyle always asked his informants in the French Connection but she didn't think he'd get the joke.

"Sex with my mother? No, of course not," he said. "I'd never have sex with my mother. That's disgusting."

She could tell he was lying.

"Tell me the truth Salvy," she said pulling his pubic hairs.

"Okay, okay, so what if I am having sex with mother?" He moved his head around as if he was doing a Stevie Wonder impersonation. "Doesn't everyone want to have sex with their mothers?"

Never wanting to have sex with her mother, she thought of her mother while wondering if she was still alive. Even if she remembered her father, she didn't think she'd want to have sex with him either. That's just nasty. Salvy's just nasty for him to be doing his mother.

"You don't ask me questions slave even rhetorical ones. You just give me answers," she said whipping his naked belly.

Obviously one who wasn't into pain, she didn't have to hit him very hard for him to obey her. She couldn't wallop some of her clients' legs, backs, and asses hard enough before they'd beg her to stop.

"Okay, okay. No more questions even rhetorical ones, if I knew that that was," he said mumbling. "Just answers," he said.

She leaned down to whisper in his ear before standing and stepping back to maintain her distance.

"Do you think because I'm a black woman that I don't deserve respect?"

With him blindfolded and unable to see her movements, she stuck out her pelvis and tossed back her hair in the way of a proud, black woman taking control of her man.

"Respect? I respect you," he said.

She looked at him and laughed.

"Your actions speak louder than your lying words Salvy," she said running her whip along his thigh. "You don't respect me. You don't respect any black people, especially black women, do you? If anything, in the way that you ogle me and speak inappropriately to me, you disrespect me."

Nervously wiggling around, she watched him struggling against his ties to get more comfortable.

"I'm not lying. I respect you Mistress Dom. I do. I really do respect you," he said.

For such a big man, she couldn't believe how small his cock was and how submissive he was. She wondered how big his cock would get if he had and/or was able to get an erection. She wondered if he was waiting for her to untie him before asserting himself. She wondered once he was untied, if he'd be angry that she overwhelmed him. She wondered if he was mad because she so totally dominated him. Knowing his type, if solely based on the fact that he promised to fix all that's broken in her apartment, paint her entire apartment, and give her a new kitchen, he enjoyed being dominated. She wondered if he'd try to get even by trying to strip her naked and tie her to her bed. Only, taller, stronger, and a Judo expert, that would be a big mistake on his part to challenge her physically. 

"Do you think because I'm a black woman that I'm beneath you?"

No doubt with him imagining her being beneath her, he laughed his perverted laugh.

"Beneath me, even though I'd love for you to be beneath me right now, no I don't think that you're beneath me at all," he said. "If anything, you're my equal."

His equal? How dare he? If she was anything, she was his superior. Anyway, he was lying. He didn't think any minority, especially a woman who was a minority, was his equal. If ever he went to prison, he'd be the type that would join the white supremacists rather than to have a brother using him as his bitch.

"Equal? Do you really think that I'm your equal?"

He paused too long in his answer as if he wanted to give a different answer. No doubt fearing the repercussions of her whip, he gave her the correct answer.

"Yes," he said as if proud of his answer.

Only, obvious that he wasn't her equal. He was her inferior instead.

"If anything, I'm your superior," she said pinching his skin with her fingertips.

With just a mere pinch of his skin he recapitulated and changed his answer. With her exquisite looks, unbelievable body, education, and martial arts skills, he was so inferior to her that he wasn't even a blip on her radar.

"Ow. Yes, yes, of course, you're my equal," he said. She pinched him again, this time harder. "I mean, superior," he said.

She stared at him so helplessly tied to her bed while realizing that she'd have to wash all of her bedding now that he was there naked sweating all over her clean sheets with his naked body.

"I bet you didn't know that I have a master's degree in psychology and know enough about human nature to know what you're thinking before you even have the thought," she said.

She didn't have to lie or exaggerate that fact with him being so easy to read.

"You do? A master's degree, huh? No, I didn't know that. Wow," he said.

Even though he was blindfolded and she couldn't see his eyes, especially in the dark, he looked frightened. With him overwhelmed and tied to her bed instead of her being tied to her bed, he looked panicked.

"I bet you don't know that I'm a black belt in Judo and can really hurt you, if I wanted and if you instructed me to do so."

All she had to do to give him real pain was to twist one of his toes or bend one of his fingers. He had no idea what she could do with minimal effort.

"Judo? A black belt? Really?"

"Yes really," she said.

"Wait. Instruct you to hurt me? I don't understand," he said.

"Rather than always giving them pleasure, I'm skilled at giving men pain," she said. "Pleasure and pain, the two go hand in hand."

"No, no pain. I don't like pain," he said moving his head around as if he was a blind man and being that he was blindfolded, he was. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for disrespecting you," he said. "I deeply regret disrespecting you," he said.

"I don't think you're capable of deeply regretting anything and you wouldn't even say that if you weren't helplessly tied to my bed," she said.

"To be honest, I've never been with a black woman before and with you being so beautiful, I was curious what it would be like to have sex with you."

He was lying. She recalled all the black women that she knew he had been with and who lived in the building now and/or who left after she took this apartment. If anything, with him obviously preferring dark meat to white meat, he has a thing for black women.

"Lying. You're such a liar Salvy. I know you've been with several of the black women who live and who used to live in this building," she said.

After catching him in his lies, he was sweating more now. She couldn't imagine having sex with his fat, sweaty body. She thought again about having to wash her bedding.

"Okay, okay, but they only sucked me. And with me not able to cum, it wasn't much fun for me," he said with dejection.

Only sucked him? She knew for a fact that he fucked many of the black women. Women talk, especially when talking to another sister. They warned her about him, and with that forewarning in mind, she was ready and waiting for him to try something with her.

Enough with playing with him, she fell into her role as Dominique the Dominatrix. It was time to discipline him and punish him for all that he's done and for all that he's put her through in not repairing all that was broken in her apartment. With his apartment looking so newly remodeled, she was tired of living in this dump.

"How dare you stare up my skirt at my panties? How dare you stare down my top at my tits? You are a foul, perverted, dirty, little man," she said. "How dare you cop cheap feels of my ass when I walk by you in the hall?"

Using him by teasing him, if only he knew that she had been flashing him her panties and bra on purpose, she wondered what he'd say and what he'd do.

"I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I'll never stare at you or touch you ever again," he said as if meaning it. "Just untie me. Okay? I don't like this. I don't like this at all. Please don't hurt me."

If only he knew that she purposely squeezed by him to brush against his cock and for him to feel her ass, she wondered what he'd think about her then. If only he knew that it turned her own and made her want to her him more when he begged her not to hurt him. If only he knew that she preferred women to men.

"Interesting that you don't like being stripped naked, blindfolded, and tied to the bed when that's exactly what you wanted to do to me," she said with a loud laugh. "I like you Salvy, really I do, but only when you obey me," she said whipping the air with her whip and making a loud snapping sound. "You've been a bad landlord, a very bad landlord and you need to be disciplined. You need to be punished," she said leaning down to whisper in his ear. "You need to make all the repairs to my apartment for free."

Inspired to ask for more than she normally does when giving her services as a Dominatrix, she couldn't believe she had the nerve to ask him to make all of her repairs for free when she hasn't paid him his rent in months.

"Yes, yes, of course, I can fix all that's wrong with your apartment," he said and meaning it. "No problem."

In case he wasn't sincere about fixing her apartment, she couldn't wait to punish this fat bastard. She couldn't wait to teach him a lesson that he wouldn't soon forget.

"What if you're lying to me? What if you're not telling me the truth about fixing up my apartment for free? Must I beat you to show you that I mean business?"

"No, please, you don't have to beat me. I have sensitive skin, Mistress Dom. I mark easily," he said pathetically and uncharacteristically. "Please don't beat me."

Suddenly feeling sorry for him, she relented in punishing and disciplining him. Instead, by giving him what he so wanted, some sexual contact and a glimpse of her shapely body, she'd rather use him to give her what she needed, free rent and all necessary repairs for free.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Salvy," she said giving his head a gentle pat. 

A pawn in her game of BDSM, she couldn't believe what he said next when he took the words right out of her mouth.

"I don't mind you disciplining me and punishing me but is there another way that you can discipline me and punish me without pain?"

Seriously? She couldn't believe he asked her that. Putty in her hands, now she had him where she wanted him and knew that he'd be receptive to do whatever she wanted to do to get all that she wanted from him.

"Maybe," she said.

Not knowing where she was, he moved his head from side to side while talking to where he thought she was in the darkness. Now dark enough without having a light to see, the fact that he was blindfolded too added to his sensory deprivation.

"Is there another way that you can discipline me and punish me without whipping me?"

As if he was his prisoner of war and he was, instead of her landlord, having been down this road plenty of times before with a multitude of men, she knew that it wouldn't take very much to get him going and to make him dependent upon her kindness and sexual favors. She used psychology on those dimwitted victims who thought they were better than her just because she was black. As if dealing out her own version of personal payback while being paid for the privilege of their pain, she enjoyed dealing with men who didn't have a clue that she was superior to them in every way, physically, intellectually, and emotionally.

"Actually, there is another way that I can discipline you without pain and punish you without whipping you. I could sexually tease you," she said. "Would you like for me to tease you sexually?"

She knew that he'd be the type of man who'd readily go for pleasure rather than pain. Only, sexually teasing him in the way that she sexually teased men could be just as painful as was a whipping.

"Oh, yes, yes, I'd love for you to sexually tease me. Sexually teasing me sounds like a good way to discipline me and more of a fitting punishment than whipping me," he said in eager agreement.

Moving her zipper closer to his ear, Dominique slowly unzipped her top and exposed her big, black breasts to his blindfolded eyes.

"If you weren't blindfolded Salvy, you could see my tits," she said holding both of her breasts on the palms of her hands while fingering her nipples and whispering in his ear. "If you weren't tied to my bed, you could touch my tits, feel my tits, and fondle my tits while fingering my nipples," she said. "I'm holding my big, luscious breasts in my hands right now while fingering my big, black nipples. I love my tits. I love how big and how hard my nipples get whenever I'm sexually aroused. I'm sexually aroused now by having you so naked and vulnerable. I bet you'd love to see my breasts, touch my breasts, feel my breasts, and suck my breasts."

She leaned at the waist to tease him by rubbing her tits along his cheek. No matter how quickly he turned his head to take her nipples in his mouth, he was always too late. 

"Yes, yes, Mistress Dominique, I'd love to see your tits. I'd love to touch your tits. I'd love to feel your tits. I'd love to suck your big nipples, Mistress Dom."

Already her bitch while begging for more, she had him right where she wanted him.

"Beg me to show you my breasts and maybe I will," she said leaning down to whisper her words in his ear.

"I beg you Mistress Dom. Please show me your big tits," he begged. "Please I beg of you to show me your tits. I want to see your tits. I need to see your tits."

She lifted his blindfold over one eye with her index finger and as if he was a fish on ice giving her the one, cold, dead eye leer, he stared at her tits with his one eye bulging out of his head before she snapped his blindfold back in place.

"Ow," he said from the elastic blindfold snapping back in place over his eye. "Oh, my God. You have a great rack, Mistress Dom," he said. "I love your big tits."

He was so easy. Too easy. Never has she ever disciplined and punished a man who was so needy of a woman's sexual affection and attention. A quick learner, he was too willing to be taught a lesson.

"What if I ran my nipples along your mouth? Would you like it if I ran my nipples along your lips?"

Sexually teasing him, she took great pleasure in sexually disciplining and sexually punishing men now in the way that men took great pleasure in physically and emotionally abusing and using her before.

"Oh, yes, I'd so love for you to run your nipples across my lips."

He was so base. He was so vile. He was so simple in his demands. Now she wondered if she was the first woman, other than his mother obviously, who he had sex with while so helplessly tied to the bed.

Obviously, the queen bitch and black diva that she was, at least she was a softy when it came to pain. She'd never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it and/or who didn't want it bad enough to pay her for the privilege. Yet, in the way that his mother so meanly and so miserably bossed him around and controlled him, for all that she knows and for all that she suspected, his mother may be his dominatrix too.

"I agree to run my nipples across your lips, but you can't lick them and you can't suck them until I give you permission to lick and suck them," she said in her in demonstrative voice that was filled with control.

From her tone, there was no mistaking her threats to hurt him by punishing if he didn't obey. 

"Thank you Mistress Dominique," he said.

Already, in anticipation of her running her nipples across her lips, he had his lips purse as if he was a goldfish waiting to be fed.

"If you lick and suck my nipples anyway without my expressed permission then I will roll you over and whip your fat, naked ass. It's your choice, pleasure or pain. Moreover, I'll change my punishment from pleasure to pain."

Feeling a little horny from controlling Salvy, she wouldn't mind having her nipples sucked right about now while imagining it was someone else sucking her tits. Especially being that it was so dark and she couldn't really see that it was Salvy sucking her tits, so long as he didn't speak, she could pretend that he was her female lover sucking her nipples.

"I promise not to lick and/or suck your nipples," he said. "Definitely, I'd much rather have pleasure over pain."

So predictable and her way of controlling him, an obvious choice, she knew he'd pick pleasure over pain.

"Don't speak slave, unless given permission to talk," she said lightly whipping his thighs, first one and then the other, for him to get the message.

Dominique climbed on the bed, mounted him, and rubbing her leather covered pussy against his exposed, semi-hard cock, she leaned her tits to his lips. Slowly moving her nipples across his lips, daring him to lick her nipples and suck her tits, she teased him with her hard, erect nipples hoping that he'd force her to change her discipline from pleasure to pain by him disobediently flicking out his tongue. Yet, true to his fear of pain, he behaved and obeyed while waiting for her to give him pleasure by giving him permission to lick her nipples and suck her tits. 

"Now that you behaved me slave, so long as you don't speak without first asking my permission to speak, you may lick my nipples and suck my tits," she said.

As if he was a baby starving for food, he attacked her nipples with his mouth, lips, and tongue, first one and then the other as she slowly slid them across his lips. Briefly before moving them away from his mouth, she allowed him to lick her nipples and suck her tits.

"May I speak Mistress Dom?"

Ready to whip him if he said anything disrespectful, she wondered what he'd say.

"You may speak slave," she said.

"Thank you for allowing me to lick nipples and suck your tits, Mistress Dom."

She could only imagine how grateful he'd be if she sucked his cock.

"How was that? Did you like licking and sucking my nipples?"

She put her tits away and zipped her top.

"That was great but I wish I could see your tits and suck your nipples longer while feeling them with my hands," he said.

She watched him move his head around as if he was a blindfolded Stevie Wonder.

"In due time slave, in due time," she said. "You'd have to be a good landlord for you see my tits, feel my tits, and for you to really suck my tits longer than that. Instead, what if I allowed you to feel my wet cunt. Would you like that? Would you like to finger my pussy?"

A real sexual turn on for her, she was already wet from controlling him and from him sucking her tits.

"Are you kidding me? Oh God yes," he said. "If you allow me to feel your cunt, I'll be the best landlord ever. I promise to fix everything wrong with your apartment. I'll even give you a new kitchen."

A new kitchen? Without even having to ask him for one and without even having to command him to buy her one, she couldn't believe that he freely and willingly agreed to give her a new kitchen.

"If you promise to be the best landlord, fix all that's wrong, forget the rent that I owe you, and give me a new kitchen, I'll allow you to finger my pussy," she said.

So easy, he was too easy.

"Really? I've love to finger your pussy Mistress Dom," he said with delight. "Yes, yes, or course, no rent is due and I'll do all that I promised that I would, including giving you a new kitchen."




Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 04



With her standing on the bed and straddling him, Dominique unzipped another part of her black, leather costume by her pussy slit and squatted down and hovered over his tied hand until she felt the tips of his fingers touching her. As if grabbing for gold, perhaps as if feeling his mother while she slept, he felt Mistress Dom's exposed pussy. Just as he was about to impale her pussy with his fat, stubby finger, she pulled away and zipped her zipper.

"Maybe next time, I'll have you do more. Maybe next time, I'll take your tiny cock in my hand and make it bigger with my mouth, tongue, and lips before allowing you to fuck my pussy. Maybe the next time, I'll make you cum but first you have to make me believe that you'll be the best landlord," she said cutting his ties with her knife.

"Oh, thank you Mistress Dom. Thank you," he said rubbing the circulation back in his wrists and ankles before sniffing his fingers where he touched Mistress Dom's wet pussy.

Turning on her flashlight on low, she looked at his fat, naked, hairy body with displeasure. He was such a fat, disgusting, little man.

"As soon as you leave, I expect you to turn back on my heat, lights, and water," she said grabbing him around his neck in a chock hold. "I expect you to fix all that's broken tomorrow, paint my apartment over the weekend, and buy and install a new, all wood kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances."

He looked at her with such gratefulness.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll do run down to the cellar and restore your heat, power, and water. I'll do that right away."

She rolled her eyes, made a face, and sighed. Not much of a challenge, this was too easy.

"Tomorrow, I'll go to the hardware store to pick out the paint colors for you to buy. Then, we'll go together to pick out my new kitchen," she said.

"I'll look forward to that," said Salvy acting as if he was a new and different man.

Holding her whip in hand, she was ready to whip him if he gave her a reason to discipline and punish him.

"Now collect your clothes, dress out in the hall, and get the fuck out of my apartment," she said pushing him out the door and slamming and locking the door behind him.

With her lighting his way, Salvy picked up his shirt, pants, underwear, and socks.

"Yes, Mistress Dom. As soon as I get dressed I'll run down to the cellar and turn on your heat, power, and water," he said and he did. "I'll fix everything that needs to be fixed tomorrow including greasing the hinges of your door," he said talking through her door as if talking to her. "Then I'll paint everything that needs painting over the weekend. When I buy the paint, we'll go together to pick out your new kitchen."

* * * * *

Now with her having the best apartment in the building, even better than his apartment, with everything in her apartment new, fixed, and painted, she enjoyed her new kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. For the next three years, Mistress Dominque occasionally paid her rent with money. Even when she had the money to pay her rent, Salvy wouldn't accept it.

Rather than her paying him her rent with money, he'd rather be stripped naked and tied to her bed. He'd rather be disciplined and punished with sex rather than with pain. Having saved enough money by not paying rent and working as a psychologist at a clinic, she was able to save enough money to buy a house and install a dungeon. Salvy was one of her regular customers.

THE END



Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 05



Bound & Blindfolded for Rent, Ch. 5

Open for business, Mistress Dominque finally gets her dungeon.

“Take off your clothes,” said Dominque.  “Take them off,” she said cracking her whip against the concrete floor in her personal dungeon.  Adding even more authority to her voice, with no carpet and little furniture to deaden the noise, the sound of the whip echoed in the windowless room.  “Strip yourself naked now,” she said raising her voice and shoving a strong hand against his weak shoulder before slapping him across his face as if he was a groper on a subway instead of a client in her dungeon.

As if a staged Broadway play, their scene, already played out many times before, was well orchestrated, practiced, and rehearsed.  With no room for mistakes or missteps, nothing changed within their BDSM session unless he told her in writing in advance.  Most times, he wanted Dominque to give him exactly what she gave him last month, a spanking and/or a whipping.  In the way he’s been so very bad lately, he didn’t deserve any pleasure, just punishment and discipline. 

“Okay, okay,” said Walter, a grey-haired man in his fifties.

A well-educated Caucasian man, a professional in his chosen career, and very successful at earning lots of money, he was one of Dominque’s special, preferred clients.  With money no object to him, he could afford to pay her what he paid his CPA and his personal lawyer, five hundred dollars an hour.  To him, she was more valuable than his personal trainer, his chauffeur, his upstairs maid, his butler, his personal, executive secretary, and/or his chef.  Those employees could easily be replaced but the special services that she gave him was hard to find.  In the way he couldn’t do without his hairstylist and manicurist, he couldn’t do without Dominique his Dominatrix.

Today, wrought with guilt and with him needing to be punished and disciplined, he’s been a very bad man.  Wanting what will reinforce his need for pain, he needed to be punished.  Needing what will make him feel better about being bad, he needed to be disciplined.  For him to justify his bad deeds, he needed for Dominque to punish him and discipline him in the way that he’s undeservingly punished others by stealing their money.  In order to ease his conscience, he needed to feel the slap of her hand and the sting of her whip.  As if she’s all the people he so wronged, he needed to know her displeasure with him for being so evil to his financial customers.

“Get up against the wall.  You know the drill, you fat bastard,” she said.  “Move your fat, flabby ass,” she said slapping him hard with her open hand.

A black belt in martial arts, in the way she hurt Salvy, she could really hurt him if he really wanted her to hurt him.  Taking into account what her clients wanted, she interviewed her clients in depth and had them fill out an extensive questionnaire before even starting her bondage, discipline, and sadomasochism sessions.  Giving them what they so wanted and needed, all she was doing was providing them with a special service.

After being bullied through all of his childhood and early adult years for his obesity, submissiveness, and weakness, no one dared call him a name now, at least not to his face.  Too influentially powerful, he could break any man who didn’t do what he wanted.  Now what he wanted was feeling pain but on his terms.  Willing to pay for the pleasure, Dominque gave him what he needed.

The man positioned himself against her wall.  As if it was his shadow, he could nearly see the outline of his fat body where he sweated all over her wall the last time he was here.  Yet fastidious in keeping her dungeon clean, a mere figment of his imagination, what he saw obviously was only what he imagined seeing.

As if he was a prisoner in a dungeon in the 17th century, as if he was a black prisoner taken from Africa for America and chained down below in the cargo hold of a sailing ship, Dominque chained his wrists and his ankles to the wall.  Making sure that he couldn’t free himself, unable to escape, she double wrapped the chains around his wrists and ankles.  Unable to wear his Rolex watch for days after, his French cuffs and argyle socks would conceal the bruises the chains made to his wrists and ankles.

He was in her control now.  He was her bitch.  He was her nigger instead of the other way around.  With all of it already predetermined and agreed to, no matter what he said, how much money he offered her to stop, and how much he begged, she wouldn’t stop whipping him until she was done. 

“You’ve been bad Walter, very bad, haven’t you?”  She grabbed a whole handful of his hair to pull his head back with it.

The game they needed to play, she was just as good at pretending as he was.  With each assuming their roles, he paid her for perfection.  He paid her to belittle him.  He paid her to make him feel how he felt when he was so abused by others.  He paid her to make him feel what others felt when he took advantage of them by stealing from them.  Now with his pain and suffering on his terms, seemingly, even though she was in control of their BDSM sessions, he was the one who had orchestrated this in advance.

“I have.  I’ve been especially bad.  I’ve been cheating people out of their money.  If I didn’t feel so good and so smugly smart about cheating them and stealing from them, my way of getting even with them for calling me names when I was young and defenseless, I’d feel guilty but I don’t,” he said.

“I’ll make you feel better baby,” she said cupping his testicles in her black hand while wrapping her fingers around his cock to stroke him to an erection.

“That feel so good Dominque.  Already I feel so much better.  I knew I needed to see you.  I needed to feel your black hands all over my naked body.  As if you’re my black, sexy, female demon, I needed you to help me pay for my sins,” he said pathetically.

Letting go of his cock, Dominque pulled out a brand, new whip.  He didn’t want to be touched with a whip that had blistered someone else’s skin.  Willing to pay the added expense of having her buying a brand new whip with each session, knowing the whip was new and earmarked especially for him was part of his ritual.  Later, she’d use the same whip on someone else who didn’t care about such things.  For now, this was his whip expressly purchased and imported just for him.

“Oh, you’re going to pay alright,” she said grabbing his left nipple and twisting it before hitting him in the testicles with the handle of her whip.  “With the roles reversed, you’re my nigger now boy.”  

He winced and if his hands were free, he would have grabbed himself.  If his legs were free, he would have fallen to the floor in pain.  Only, what he felt now was just an agonizing appetizer for how very bad he’s been and how painfully bad he’ll feel soon.  Seemingly, one result erased the other.  Seemingly the guilt he felt by stealing money was made to feel better by the pain he’d soon feel in being whipped.  With Dominque directing and controlling his pain and punishment, he could be as bad as he wanted to be without guilt or remorse, so long as Dominque made him pay for the pleasure.  For him to pay her double her fee, one thousand dollars an hour and two thousand dollars for a two hour session, he wanted her to make him feel pain, real pain.

As if she was hired by the Queen of England determined to get information out of a prisoner by the use of physical torture, her own judge, jury, and executioner, she took a few steps back to allow her whip room to hit its target.  First she uncoiled the whip with a loud slap on the floor and, even though he was expecting her to do just that, he still jumped in anticipation of the stinging pain she was about to deliver.  As if she was a fisherman casting out her line in a rushing river, resembling cigarette smoke, it didn’t take much wrist action to let her imported, Australian whip fly and curl through the air as if it was a snake ready to strike.

Designed to coil as a rope, a Cobra, or a rattlesnake, made from tough kangaroo hide, the whip is shot loaded with a double pleated underbelly.  There’s no doubt about it, more than any of her other whips, this whip will hurt.  Yet, especially chosen by him, this is the whip he wanted.  This is the pain he deserved.  He may hurt in the beginning but he’d feel so much better after she’d done.

She removed the ball bearing at the end.  Not wanting to give him an open wounds that could get infected in the way that some of her clients want, she didn’t want to leave any long lasting and/or permanent scars for his wife and/or mistress to question.  As it is, it took him a week before he could drive his golf cart again.  Until the swelling lessened and the pain subsided, he had his chauffeured driven Mercedes and his reclining, leather office chair outfitted with a special cooling cushion.  He had another cushion made for his dining room chair and even had a cool memory gel donut he used for the toilet.

After he’s done with Dominque, or more fittingly, after she’s done with him, he’ll be sitting in an ice bath at the club for an hour until his skin is as blue as his ass his numb.  With all of this worth it to him, the more pain he felt the more money he earned.  The more money he earned, the more guilt he felt, and the more his need for pain.  A seemingly never ending cycle, the guiltier he felt the more he needed Dominque to punish him and discipline him.  A bittersweet recipe and a dish she was expert at making, for his BDSM sessions to work, he needed to feel pain with his pleasure.

*     *     *     *     *

Mistress Dominque moved to a better neighborhood and now had a better class of clientele.  After moving out of Salvy’s dump, she bought her own house on the other side of town, one with a finished basement that she reconfigured and reconverted into her own personal dungeon of pain and pleasure.  She knew that if she had a premium place to conduct her bondage, discipline, and S&M business, she’d get a premium price to do what she does best, give men pain and discipline before giving them pleasure.

Her dungeon is where she conducted all of her torture and sexual business.  Her upstairs was off limits to her clients and was her private space.  The last thing she wanted was to mix her private life with her business life.  Some older, white men asked to see her on the side, behind their wives back, in hopes of beginning more than just a business relationship for a sexual relationship.  She’d readily have sex with a white man for money but she’d never date a white man for romance and for love, no matter how rich he is.  Never mixing business with pleasure, she’d rather that whomever she was dating not know what she did to earn her money.

Saving love and romance for later, after she was done with being a Dominatrix, she ignored men of her race.  Her only customers were white, older men, men who had the money to pay her for what they wanted.  With her beautiful skin the color of creamy milk chocolate, and her small facial features of a woman born on one of the Caribbean Islands, she had what Caucasian men wanted when fantasizing what it would be like to have sex with a black woman.

They wanted sex and she wanted money.  They wanted her to dominate them and she wanted them to give her their money.  They wanted her to give them pain before giving them pleasure and she just wanted them to give her their money.  

A fair trade.  They each had what the other wanted.  They bondage, discipline, sadomasochism, and sex from her and she wanted their money.  After these older, white men accumulated the money that could buy them the best houses, cars, trips, wines, clothes, and jewelry, it was then that they turned to the forbidden.  It was then that they were ready to delve into the perversity of being punished and disciplined by a beautiful, strong, black woman.  They enjoyed being slaves to her will and under her control.  They’d not only lick her boots but also they’d reward her handsomely for the privilege of being so submissively subservient to her.  Ah life was good when in control and when being paid to be in control.

*     *     *     *     *  

Sex, sex, sex, nothing personal, it was only about the sex with them after all.  Money, money, money, nothing personal, it was only about the money with her after all.  A perfect fit and the perfect pair, they were a perfect match.  Sex for money, it was only all about sex for money and nothing else.

With most of her clients not looking for friendship or romance, she wasn’t either.  Just as they’d want no part of her in their richly successful lives, once they were done with their sexual session, she wanted no part of them in her private life.  Playing the faithful husbands with their wives and children, she played the professional business woman with her black relatives and friends.  Just as no one knew their private peccadilloes, no one knew her Dominatrix secret.

Dealing only with older, upper class, white men, men who had money and men who always wanted to be punished and disciplined by a strong, young, sexy, black woman, she was happy to oblige by accommodating them.  Matter of fact, for all the abuses that the white race has done to the black race and to her personally, she enjoyed spanking and whipping their fat, rich, white asses.  Moreover, a distant memory of her horrid past, she was happy to have moved away from her old landlord, Salvy.  If she ever saw him again, that would be too soon.

With her website business word of mouth and referrals from her sexually satisfied clients, it wasn’t hard for her to attract customers and continue to expand her business at her new address.  If things continued with her getting more new clients, she may have to hire an assistant, another young, beautiful, sexy, black woman or maybe she’ll branch out and hire a young, beautiful, sexy Asian woman.  Or who knows, if her business warranted it, maybe she’d hire one of each. 

With these men able to get whatever white woman they wanted, they didn’t want a white woman to give them punishment and discipline.  Her special clients didn’t want a white woman, unless she was a special, white woman with a body to match her beautiful face and an intelligent, savvy mind, along with the discretion to match her beauty.  With a beautiful black woman their first choice, Dominque was who they wanted.

Only, problematic for Dominque to find an employee and possibly a partner in her business, it was much easier to find a young, beautiful, sexy, black woman or Asian woman than it was to find the right young, beautiful, sexy, black woman or Asian woman.  Afraid of being blackmailed or being extorted for money, her clients were quite specific in their demands and not trusting of strangers.  Being that they already had a mutually beneficial relationship with her, they’d rather things not change.  If Dominque introduced another person without their permission, she’d lose them as a client.  

With these rich men able to get whatever beautiful, Caucasian woman they so desired at the country club, the high class hotel, or at their private, VIP strip club, they wanted someone more exotic.  They already had a bevy of beautiful, white, sexy whores to line their yacht.  They wanted someone who already knew the pain she was about to give them.  What they wanted was as elusive as a butterfly.  What they wanted was Dominque.

After growing bored with dumb blondes and gold digging bitches, they not only wanted a woman with a brain in her head.  They wanted a woman who could make them cum with just a dirty, nasty word, a sexy look, a hard slap across their face, and/or a quick, hard whip to their naked ass.  They wanted a one-of-a-kind woman.  They wanted the rare female.  They just didn’t want a black, call girl.  They wanted a black Dominatrix.  They wanted Dominque.

They wanted the forbidden flesh of a black woman or an Asian woman but not just any black woman or Asian woman.  Being that these men were captains of industries and highly successful in their own right, the woman had to be as sharp as they are for her to hold their interest, to take charge, and to control them.  With them never relinquishing control to someone beneath them or lesser to them, they’d only relinquish control to someone they deemed their equal or vastly superior to them.  Other than a witch, who would be superior to them than a Dominatrix? 

Nonetheless the color of her skin, they needed her to have a beautiful face and a body to match, along with an intelligent and creative mind.  They needed her to have a sexy demeanor to compliment her in charge personality.  They needed her to be a very special woman to demand such a premium price.  They’d never pay for some average woman masquerading as a Dominatrix while pretending that she loved disciplining and punishing her clients.  Much more specialized and customer driven, the discipline and punishment business was so very much more than just that.  They needed her to dish out her punishment and discipline with as much pleasure as she dished out the pain.

*     *     *     *     *

Quickly becoming a wealthy woman, a woman who no longer needed a man to support her and take care of her, Dominque didn’t need all that much money to live a comfortable life.  At the rates she charged, as much as a Philadelphia lawyer, she didn’t need as many customers either.  The mistakes that some Madams made was taking on too many working girls and having too many clients.  The clients she had were faithful to her.  They didn’t discuss what they did behind closed doors just as they expected her not to discuss what happened behind closed doors.

Wanting to remain beneath the radar of the police shutting her down or the IRS knocking at her door, she’d rather keep her business low key, word of mouth, and small enough for her to handle by herself.  Without taking in a partner that she couldn’t trust or control, with her always wanting to be in control, she’d rather run a one woman show that was more a cottage business than a corporation.  Much like having two roosters in a henhouse, deciding against hiring another woman, it didn’t work to have two Dominatrixes in the same business.

She’d rather maintain control over her roost.  She’d rather that they’d remain loyal to her than go get use to someone else.  Maybe when she grew older and tired of punishing and disciplining old, fat, white men, she’d find someone to take over her business and pay her a monthly franchise fee.  For now, things were good, real good.  For now, there was no reason to change anything.

*     *     *     *     *

With her not wanting to fall in love, never wanting to fall in love especially with a white man, she found it safely comfortable sexually servicing white men.  Had she been doing her Dominatrix business with rich, older, black men instead of rich, older white men, chances are she would have fallen in love.  Chances are she would have been married with children by now.  Chances are, she’d no longer be a Dominatrix but a sexually frustrated housewife while her husband was out doing what he did to her to some other Dominatrix.  

Able to distance herself by not servicing her own race, as far as she was concerned she’d never fall for a man not of her race just as she couldn’t imagine a white man falling in love with her, a black woman, a nigger.  Too large of a gap to bridge, there was too much water between the races.  With all the terrible stories her parents and grandparents told her of racism, there were things that she could never forgive never mind forget.  Always there under the current, just having to scratch the surface to reopen the wound, as far as she was concerned, all white people are out in the open or closeted racists.

With racism and racists violence still continuing all throughout America, she knew that deep down inside, no matter how intelligent, educated, kind, and beautiful she was, she was just another nigger to a white man.  If Washington was serious about gun control and if the majority of the Caucasian population weren’t still such racists, they’d never allow an entire generation of black men to continue killing one another.  Instead of sending all of our money and resources overseas, they’d make sure that every person in America, regardless of skin color not only had a good paying job but equal opportunities.  Even to a man or to a woman who wasn’t as intelligent, educated, kind, and good looking as she obviously was, she was nothing more than a lowly nigger.




Bound & Blindfolded for Rent Ch. 05



Nigger, nigger, nigger, when she awakened in the morning without her hair done and her makeup applied, without wearing her skin tight costumes and holding her whip in her hand, and getting in the character as a Dominatrix, she was just another nigger.  Something she’s never allowed to forget, if even for a split second, white people look at her differently when first seeing her.  As if the first thing that registers through their minds when seeing her is not that she’s tall, beautiful, and intelligent but that she’s a nigger.  There’s that instant look of recognition where they feel that they’re better than her.  Having seen the look all of her life, she knows that look.  The only place where she doesn’t receive that look is down in her dungeon.

Moreover, something she preferred doing, her job of bondage and discipline allowed her to work from home.  Maybe later, when she earned enough money, she’d have a separate place for work and another place to live.  With her so wanting to live a respectable life, not wanting any of her friends and/or relatives to know what she did for a living, except for her website, she did all she could do to hide her sexual life from her private life.

When appearing on her website, changing her hair to a more dramatic hairstyle and applying more makeup than she normally wears, she hopes that should one of her friends or relatives stumble upon her website, they wouldn’t recognize her.  When out and about, she wears her hair down and applies much less makeup.  When out an about, not wanting anyone to recognize her, she wears dark glasses or eyeglasses with clear lenses that she doesn’t need to wear.  Even hiding her magnificent body, she wears dark, baggy clothes to conceal her God given curves.

Her website attracted those men who’d willingly pay for her sexual services.  Predominantly playing the black card in advertising herself, she was the dark meat that white men wanted but didn’t know how to go about getting it.  In their upscale communities, the only black people they knew were beneath them and/or in service to them.  No matter how much they lusted over a beautiful, black woman, they’d never take the chance of ruining their reputation.  No matter how much they lusted over a beautiful, black woman, they’d never risk their social standing in their upscale, all white community by chancing the scandal of being caught having interracial sex with a black woman, a Dominatrix at that.  This way, without having to be with a black prostitute and/or without having to go slumming in a black community at the risk of being beaten and/or killed, Dominque, their personal Dominatrix, was their best and safest bet.

Moreover, even with her eventually sucking and fucking them, these men weren’t interested in having willing sex with a submissive black woman.  They wanted something more.  These men wanted to be controlled.  These men wanted to be punished by a strong, black woman for all of the physical, emotional, and sexual transgressions their brethren and/or ancestors may have done to African Americans who were taken from their country nearly 400 years ago.

Yet, that was the past and with this the present, these men wanted to suffer all of the indignities of being dominated.  These men wanted to be sexually teased and tortured while exposing their junk to the eyes of a beautiful, intelligent, and sophisticated black woman who held the whip.  These men wanted to be punished and disciplined for all of the evils that they did in their workplace today.  

Tired of always being in control, this was one of the few times they felt comfortable relinquishing control but not to someone who they considered inferior to them.  Something they’d never admit in public but they all believed privately, they all considered Dominque superior to them.  Perhaps subconsciously, these men wanted to feel the small sampling of pain that a black slave must have felt when he or she was deemed disobedient enough to whip.  These men wanted to experience the sexual punishment, even allowing her to fuck them in their ass with a big, black, strap-on dildo, while being controlled by a black woman.  These men wanted to do with her what they’d never do with their wives.

*     *     *     *     *

Typically, she received the same unimaginative e-mail from men soliciting her special, BDSM sexual services.  It was boringly frustrating how so very many men all wrote the same, exact thing.  With them not inspiring her, she’d never take on a man as a client who didn’t demonstrate imagination, intelligence, and creativity.

“Hi.  I’m Alan, Joe, John, Jim, Stephen, Martin, Perry, Bob, Anthony, Tom, Hank, and/or Richard.”

No matter who they were, they all thought the same thoughts and wrote the same words.

“I saw your website.  You are so beautiful.  You are so sexy.  I’d like for you to do to me what you do to men.”

Boring, boring, boring, if they dared asked her how much she charged, she knew that they couldn’t afford her services.  She wanted the men who didn’t care how much she charged.  Just as money didn’t matter to them, money mattered to her.  Yet, even beyond the importance of money, it was more about what she could do to them that did.  Because she was more creatively intelligent and psychologically superior to any other Dominatrix they’ve experienced, whatever price she charged was worth it to them.  

Responding to everyone who wrote her, she wasn’t as fussy in the beginning who her clients were in the way that she is now.  In the beginning, more concerned with growing her business by growing her clientele, now she could afford to be more selective.  Critiquing their e-mail and their first contact to her, if they showed no imagination in their e-mail then they’d show no imagination in their sex.  Ignoring those men who wrote her unimaginable e-mails in favor of those men who wrote her more creative and sexual enticing e-mails, finding the right client was the best way for her to not only earn more money but also to keep herself safe.  Moreover, just as men needed her to sexually inspire them, she needed them to sexually inspire her too.

Swearing to herself that she’d never fall in love with a white man, that’s when she met Kevin, an ex-MMA fighter, a mixed martial arts fighter, with tattoos covering most of his white body.  With his tattoos making him look more blue in color than white, and with him having a body equal to her body, he was, indeed, a sight to behold.  With him the same as her, taking no shit from no one, it was odd but understandable that he need her to dominate him.  With him always being the dominate one, the one responsible for delivering pain to others, he needed to feel what it’s like to be submissive.

To be continued…