This is a co-write between celestialsister0918 and SlytherInsight221.
Claire Greene sat at her desk, impatiently placing the last few files into the cabinet. She had come from a long line of police officers but she never put herself through the training. She didn't think she had the guts to risk her life everyday, even if there was a masked vigilante out there who might save her if it came down to it. No, she enjoyed the mindless task of paperwork; making spreadsheets, taking a black sharpie to a file to hide confidential information, organizing everything alphabetically... yes. This was a career she enjoyed. Other aspects of her life, she took on more of a... dominant persona. But she preferred the world to see her as demure.
She looked up from her desk, which was illuminated by a cheap lamp, and gave everything a dull, yellow hue. Almost 11:00. Damn, the day went quickly. She removed her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose before pressing her spine into the back of the chair with an audible pop. She bent down to grab her purse and car keys, prepared to leave for the night. She was startled by her coworker wishing her a good evening.
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Commissioner James W. Gordon Sr. looked at the large analog clock that hung on the wall. It was just about 23:00 and he was in no rush to go home. Home. Home is where your heart is. But his home had packed up and left him a lonely bachelor and childless. The Ex-Mrs. Gordon had left him after Harvey Dent had almost killed her son. Initially the commissioner had assumed this to be a temporary arrangement, for their own safety. But seeing as he was served with divorce papers this morning, he was rather rudely awakened to his shitty future. So... why leave the office when there was nothing waiting for him in his hotel room... no one to kiss goodnight or rub his head until he fell asleep?
He found himself to be equal parts disgruntled and depressed, wanting nothing more than to sit down to a stiff drink and pass out. Well... there was one thing he craved that he hadn't been granted for lord knows how long, out of punishment for his absence due to his work schedule. Of course, she'd always blame it on being tired or having a headache. His thoughts wandered to those of a more... carnal nature before he heard his coworker start pulling open the drawers of her filing cabinet in preparation to leave for the night. He glanced at her voluptuous form as she allowed her breasts to be on display while cracking her back against her chair. The buttons on her white blouse were strained and hanging on for dear life. His wife wasn't gifted with large breasts, so these were a welcome distraction. Claire's breasts were big. They were like... he didn't know what. They were like nothing else.
He was able to avert his gaze before his voyeurism was noticed. He bid her a good evening, causing her to jump and him to chuckle.
"Sorry about that, Claire! I didn't mean to scare you." Gordon's mustache curled up adorably as he smiled apologetically at her.
Her coworker was lucky they were in the office because if they were at her preferred place of business... he would without a doubt be rewarded with a punishment for scaring her. She rather liked the idea of that actually.
"It's alright Jim, I got lost inside my head for a second there. I just forgot I wasn't alone here, so late at night."
Jim smiled sadly at her with tight lips. "Yeah, I know the feeling. Say, what are you doing here so late anyway?"
"I could ask you the same thing..." she flirted. Truth be told she had lost track of time. Normally on a Friday she'd go home right at 5:00, eat a light dinner and take a quick nap before heading out to her favorite club around midnight. Since she was here so late tonight, she had figured she'd just head straight there after work. She kept spare clothes in her locker at the club anyway.
Jim averted his gaze and Claire swore she saw tears fill his eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall. He closed himself off, crossing his arms across his chest before inhaling with a slight sniffle.
"Jim... you okay?" Her brows knitted in concern. It wasn't a secret around the squad room that his wife took their kids to Cleveland. It had only been a few weeks, all things considered. He was holding up pretty well she thought. She could take him with her tonight. It might help?
"Yeah. Yeah I'm just not...in a hurry to go home yet," Jim sighed.
"You don't have to, you know? I was just getting ready to head out to a club...if you wanted to come too?" There. She had cast her line. Now she just had to wait to see if her fish would bite.
"Club? Ha!" He barked a laugh. "I don't think I'd fit in at a club. I'm so old. And I'm not really in a... cheerful mood. I'll just go back to the hotel. Thanks for the offer though."
"Hotel? What about your house?" She winced at her intruding question, but he didn't seem bothered.
"It has too many memories... I'm...I'm not ready to sleep there. Besides— the hotel is nice, there's room service, television. I do nothing all day but make decisions and tell people what to do. Sometimes it's nice to just... relax and zone out, you know?"
Claire had a devious grin bless her lips. "I think, Jim, that I have just the right club for you after all." She took his hand and pulled him out of the office towards the elevator. The tension was palpable in the enclosed space. She could tell he was nervous...reserved. She couldn't be more excited.
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Claire stood outside, waiting. She had scheduled an Uber once she knew she was staying late, knowing the monorail at that hour was not a great place to be. "Share the Uber with me. You won't be in a condition to drive when all is said and done," she winked.
Jim was enjoying the attention but was timid. Surely Claire hadn't been this much of a flirt before? She seemed different tonight somehow...relaxed, free, at peace. He needed to feel like that. These past few weeks had been hell. What was a few drinks with a coworker?
"Where are we headed, anyway?" Jim pondered. They were headed to the outskirts of Gotham. It was a little dodgy this far east. His anxiety was creeping up again.
"The Asylum," Claire responded with a shrug. Jim was confused, furrowing his eyebrows, but she noticed the curiosity behind his eyes. As the Uber pulled up to the dark, brick building Jim's police training kicked in. He didn't feel safe.
"I don't think this is a good idea, Claire. What are you doing hanging out at places like this anyway?" Upon closer inspection, he noticed there were no windows anywhere. A very discrete sign hung on the door, and he could hear club music. It looked like the entrance was below ground. At least that's where Claire was headed.
"Come, Jim." she demanded.
Why was that so hot? Jim's pupils dilated and his heart rate increased. He noticed a change in his demure coworker but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But whoever this new woman was— the demanding one who was currently walking down the cement steps— he thought he might do anything she asked.
Following behind like an excitable puppy, Jim stumbled down the steps after her, skipping one step at a time to catch up. His lips parted as he looked around the facility, gawking. There was a huge man— a bouncer, he assumed— at the front door who handed out masks to anyone who knew the password. Claire glanced over her shoulder with smoldering eyes when he finally caught up.
"Good evening, Mistress. Nice to see you again so soon," the gargantuan man purred.
Mistress? What the fuck...
Jim Gordon thought he was having a stroke. Unable to think or control his body, he just followed the sound of the demanding voice of the mistress. She lured him to a bar like a siren.
He obeyed, walking stiff legged as his eyes danced around the room nervously. "Close your mouth, Toy... it's unbecoming. And put on your mask before someone recognizes you," Mistress purred. His jaws slammed shut with a click.
It was supposed to be a club! Just a standard club where he could drink and forget how shitty his life was. Maybe he could flirt a little and go back home and rub one out in the hotel. But this? This was no standard bar. Women and men were... nude. Or if they weren't nude, they were in crazy lingerie things...
He had only seen things like this in porn. He felt out of place, terrified, aroused, and very, very hard. He adjusted himself through his trousers to allow his growing erection some room.
What a kinky little thing Claire is!
Mistress placed the unsuspecting man at a bar stool, helped him don his mask appropriately, and called out for the bartender. Jim was in some kind of alternate reality. He was aware of what was happening but couldn't process any of it.
"Zac! Love! How are you? Be a dear and introduce my new sub for me? He's ready to have his cherry popped I believe," she winked at Jim. "Grab him a screwdriver I think... not too strong. And then take him down to room 9. He doesn't need to prepare himself for me... sitting will be fine." Zac gave Mistress a stiff nod with a smirk before turning back to the cowering man.
"'Sub?'" Jim quoted anxiously. "Like 'subscriber?' What exactly is it I'm subscribing to?"
Claire, the coworker, leaned down to whisper into Jim's ear. "Not that kind of sub, Jim. I'll explain everything after I've changed. But it's ok, you're safe. We are just going to talk." She kissed his cheek with its slight hint of stubble before turning and heading towards the Domme locker room.
As if he was in a trance, he raised his hand to his cheek before turning back, slack jawed again, to a smirking Zac.
"Alright there, buddy?" Zac teased as he slid the pre-ordered beverage in front of the man. "Ok, man, here's the rules. First and foremost, we don't use real names here, at least out here in this part. There's a NDA to sign after your trial visit if you want to come back. Mistress Claire is one of our most sought out Dommes here, so keep in mind she might not always be available for you. But we have plenty of other beautiful Dommes to select from. There are 10 private rooms..." The man kept droning on about the club and expectations, but the Commissioner wasn't listening any more. Domme, NDA, trial visit... What the hell was going on? He was pulled out of his thoughts by a chuckle.
"Hey, buddy. It's ok. It's a lot to grasp, I get it. Tell me what's going on with your life so I can help better."
Jim took a look at the young man for the first time. He was in the tightest black leather pants the man had ever seen with some sort of leather chest harness and collar. The man was younger than he thought... mid-thirties maybe? He took a large sip of his drink, silencing his thoughts.
"Wife left me. Cla...uh... 'Mistress', I guess... convinced me to come out but didn't warn me at all. We work together at the station."
"Ah! No personal details about work, my man. Sorry to hear about the wife though. I'm assuming you're some kind of boss? Making decisions all damn day?" Gordon nodded. "This will allow you to turn that off. Just go with it. Make sure you're honest during your discussion with Mistress... any Domme really... don't push yourself too far too fast. But she'll take care of you. She's really good. Come on, I'll take you to the room. Oh, and just a bit of advice? If it's been a minute since your last encounter... you might want to run off to the bathroom and take care of yourself first. That way it'll last longer."
Jim took one last sip of his drink to steel his nerves. By no means was he even remotely intoxicated, but he was able to lose a little of his self consciousness.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Gordon was deposited into room 9 and found himself sitting on a red leather sofa. The room had dim lighting throughout, but he was able to look at some of the equipment. He got up to explore the room, curiosity getting the better of him. Removing his mask, he saw there was a large, four-poster bed with a blood red comforter on top. The headboard had all kinds of brackets and rings, obviously for some sort of restraint system. The walls were full of various whips and cane-like things and there were some extra ones hanging on some metal racks. It looked terrifying. Not as terrifying as that though! He pulled open the drawer of the dresser left of the bed to reveal all kinds of plugs, vibrators, and dildos... all different shapes, sizes, and materials.
"Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not gonna happen." He slammed the drawer shut and was turning to leave when he heard a giggle behind him. His lips parted in lust as he furrowed his brow when he saw her.
"Awww, is my toy too scared to stay and talk? We don't have to play if you don't want to. But we should at least talk. Sit," she commanded him again, and again he found himself blindly following her directions. His cock was hardening up again, having gone flaccid earlier with all the information overload he was provided with.
He joined her on the sofa. She was gorgeous! Not that he hadn't noticed her before, but... dressed like this? Wow. He should've listened to Zac and run off to the toilet before coming down here. She was in a short black dress. Was it leather? Some kind of latex? He wasn't sure, but it was tight and shiny and he couldn't stop leering. It barely covered her private area and he couldn't help but glance down to see if he could see her underwear. Fuck. They could barely be called underwear. A very sheer, royal blue lace pair of panties met his eye. His mustache twitched and his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. She had on some sexy stiletto heels and black lace stockings that came up mid thigh. As she turned around to sit he was able to see the back of her dress... or lack thereof. It was just a corset; he was staring at the beautiful diamond pattern of string across her back and felt his cock twitch as he noticed how tightly the string was strained over her round ass.
"Jim, it's just us right now, talking as friends. Do you have any questions? I want you to lead this conversation, and I'll answer anything you ask." She crossed her legs sexily... like that one movie...what was it? Ohhh, Basic Instinct.
"W-why am I here? Do... do you do this often? I don't even understand what this is!" He stood now, pacing as if he were in a perp interrogation. He took his black eyeglasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose before replacing them and fingering his mustache thoughtfully.
"Sit, Jim. You need to relax."
He obeyed.
"Yes, I come here a lot. I find I enjoy taking on the role of a dominatrix and controlling the pleasure of my partners. My day to day life doesn't allow for much decision making, making me feel like a sheep following a shepherd blindly. But here..." She gestured around the room. "Here, I'm in control. I enjoy it. Most of the men I entertain are dominant in their day to day lives. They have to make decisions all day long and no one takes care of them. That's where I come in, my pet. I'll take care of you. I'll see to your needs, your deepest desires. I know what you need and I can provide that release. It doesn't have to be sexual. Some men enjoy just submitting for the pleasure of submitting without intercourse. But I was rather hoping you'd be interested in some fucking tonight, if I'm being honest with you."
Jim's angry cock twitched once again, begging to be released from the confines of the trousers the commissioner was wearing. Claire wanted to fuck him? Really? And she just put it out there and said it like that? His lips parted and he swore he felt a bit of dampness in his briefs where his cock had started weeping. Again, he tried to adjust himself but this time he was unable to go unnoticed. His mistress licked her lips and narrowed her eyes at him.
"If you consent, we have a few ground rules to go over. If you aren't interested, that's fine— you're free to go. I just ask that you don't discuss this with anyone at work."
He took a few minutes running through a pro/con list in his head. In some ways, he felt unfaithful. In other ways he felt he deserved to 'clock out' so to speak and for once in his life be the one on the receiving end of love. In the end, his bulge convinced him to sit back down and listen.
They discussed each other's hard and soft limits and she professorially described the importance of the safe words they would use. He appeared to be quite vanilla and had no idea what half of the terms she used were, let alone if he was comfortable doing them. The couple decided they would take it slow and easy the first few times, as he was trained into submission. He knew to call her "mistress" or "ma'am." He knew that upon entering a room he turned over all of his power and control to her, keeping in mind he could always safe word. He knew she would strive to give him the most pleasure he had ever experienced in his life and provide aftercare to make sure he was never pushed too far. He verbally agreed to her terms and was from here on out, for the rest of the evening, her fuck toy to do with as she pleased.
"One more item, Jim," Claire said with a warm smile. "And it isn't the sexiest discussion, but we need to address some basics now that the hard stuff is out of the way." She laid a gentle hand on his thigh, just above his knee. "How long has it been?"
Jim swallowed. This was truly embarrassing. "Objection— irrelevant," he attempted with a shy grin.
Claire laughed. "Nice try. But it's for the matter of protection. Club policy is periodic testing for routine patrons, and condoms for first-timers. I take contraceptives of course and am tested regularly, but we take safety seriously. Would I be... putting myself at risk if we took... a more natural approach? I would honestly prefer it... I'd like to taste you... feel you more."
Her eyes were wide and beautiful and he could smell her perfume. Jim's mind was going crazy thinking of how she would feel. With work and arguments and resentment and stress, it had been so fucking long.
"You're safe," he answered honestly, and she nodded. He could tell she trusted him from their good working relationship and his reputation for integrity.
With that behind them, Mistress was now back in character. She reached out to cup the prominent bulge in his pants. He gasped loudly and recoiled. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear she had hurt him.
"Tell me what you need, baby... tell your mistress how to make you feel good."
He swallowed. Sex for him had always been with boxers and a t-shirt on, under the covers, lights off, and missionary. With a wife nagging him to hurry and finish so she could go read her book or watch a show. Never in his life had he been asked what he needed, nor had he even ever vocalized anything. If he so much as breathed too loudly he was scolded.
She cupped his manhood harder this time, pulling him from his thoughts. "I know what you need. You need to cum for me, don't you, Toy? Get the first one out of the way so we can play longer?"
He bit his lip and nodded frantically, squeezing his eyes shut as she continued to palm him. He was so close already...so close. If she could just apply a little more friction... yes... right there... he was going to...
His eyes snapped open at his first ever orgasm denial. There was ire and frustration behind his eyes. Mistress gently smacked his cheek. "You don't come without permission, Pet. Your pleasure is mine to control. Besides.. that would've been very dirty and naughty to cum in your pants like that. Are you naughty and dirty? Hmm?"
His eyes hooded. He definitely liked dirty talk.
"Take your cock out and show it to me."
The man obeyed, unzipping his trousers before reaching in and pulling out his heavy, weeping cock.
"Mmm, what a big boy you are." Mistress bent forward and took a long, flat lick over the slit, clearing away the mess he had left from his precum. "Make yourself cum. Stroke yourself until you burst... I want to see how you like it."
Normally this would humiliate him but in this context, he was finally at peace. It felt so good to stroke himself in front of her, at her command. He cupped his balls with his left hand, rolling each testicle through his fingers while his right hand squeezed the base of his cock. He slowly stroked himself up his length, veins protruding and more fluid leaking out of the tip. He took his thumb and swirled it around the plum-like head of his cock, spreading the lubricant around. His cock was above average, so as he edged himself closer, he moved his hand from the base of his cock up towards the tip, allowing him to pinch the head a little with each stroke. He looked up from the view he had of his own molestation to find the mistress staring at him, eyes fixated on his glistening tip. She looked aroused but wasn't touching herself. It made him feel dirty to be touching himself alone... and he liked it. He increased his speed and tightened his grasp as his orgasm was pulled from his body. With three hard spurts, his cock began to instantly soften. The viscous fluid coated his knuckles, slowly dripping down onto his pants.
"Feel better, baby boy?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Good. Let me clean you up." She grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips, licking the cum from his hand. His cock twitched, attempting to rise to the occasion again at witnessing such a lewd action. He hadn't had that short of a recovery time since he was a teenager! What was she doing to him? After he was cleaned, she offered him a bottle of water, explaining how important hydration was following orgasms for both men and women. She would allow him to recover for a few moments before she led him to the bed... to really start their scene.
