Character Development

 I could tell he thought little of me.     It was the unsolicited advice and desire to pick apart my life that did it really, he was a moderately successful man in his fifties, well groomed, and I imagine in his head he thought himself an ideal client, probably thought I was stoked to be in the company of someone who could shower himself. I’ll give him my Petra best of course, but I don’t think I love this guy as much as I think he loves himself.

It’s standard stuff initially. We’re making out, I’m changing the subject away from him negging me and my tattoos, he’s tanned and recently holidayed, reeking of privilege and little too much Armani Code. He’s got a nice dick, though my pride would prevent me from saying such a thing, and once I’ve warmed him up with my special Petra blowjob show, he climbs on top of me, thankfully no whinging about the condom, and to my astonishment soon puts his hand around my throat to choke me.

I grab his wrist and scald ‘Absolutely not!’, to which he climbs off me embarrassed and surprised. But girls love that! He does it all the time and no-one complains. I explain to him the power imbalance and that many would be too scared in that circumstance to speak up, rather play along - and I feel maddened that he’s naturally assumed his position here as the man, even though smaller, to be dominant.

I explain to him he’s picked the wrong girl to assume as submissive, and I'm trying my best to keep the session chill for both of our benefit, so I say - let me show you why. His dick quickly recovers from the fright of an outspoken woman, a rare beast according to him, I grab it and throw my leg over him and sit on him with a degree of force. I raise my eyebrow to say, ok? and he nods. I grab both his hands and pull them above his head, able to hold them both down with one hand - being strong and statuesque has its advantages. With the other hand I hold his hipbone firmly and then I thrust up and down on his cock, holding him steadfast by the arms and his waist. I don’t lose eye contact, I say ‘you like that hey? Being fucked by a woman? Well there’s few words finding their way to the surface - he stutters a yes and I stop - I can feel he’s about to cum. He pants, exasperated as he misses out on the orgasm. I kiss his forehead, ‘good boy, don’t cum yet’. He nods, I think he’s still lost for words, and I start up again. I free his arms, using that hand instead to slide my fingers into his mouth, slowly fucking his quivering mouth with them, testing his gag reflex. I smile as he agreeably sucks at them ‘that’s it, you like having things in your mouth don’t you?’ And he nods, 'Yes Mistress'. I didn’t even ask him to say that. I can feel him close again, I scald him - don’t cum yet, I’m not finished. He's learning his place.

We go on like this for a while, he’s a sweaty writhing mess, so I finally make myself cum on him, and I let him cum promptly after, not stopping til I'm assured he's lost every last drop - then sit on his face so he can clean up the lube and the remnants of my enjoyment - which he does eagerly.  I'm certain that salted caramel lube and Petra have a very memorable aftertaste. Good boy.

That was a good time for me. There’s a stunned glow across the room, we’re silent and dewy. 

‘I’ve, never been fucked like that’. How is that, I ask - the way you fuck others? He’s embarrassed and apologises. I strongly dislike the notion that all women are inherently submissive and that it’s a mans role to be dominant or rough in bed - traditional industry terms like ‘PSE’ with inherent connotations don’t sit right with me for this reason. This is a reeducation for him.

His head is spinning, and he comes out of the shower looking a little sheepish. I check in with him, he’s happy - he gives me all the money in his wallet as a tip and leaves after I give him a little kiss on the forehead.

That was 3 months ago, and he’s become my new regular. I’m lining up on the credenza various different sexual embellishments, getting ready for today’s session and smiling to myself thinking about how far we’ve come. 3 months ago this man tried to choke me, all I did was remove his control for a hot minute and now he’s in my phone every week paying sizeable deposits to be my little plaything. This is the kind of character development I live for. 

**as is always true, I do not write about specific clients, all stories are a collection of truths or maybe just straight up fiction, who knows? 

PETRA FOX

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