You know how I said this was a dribble? Yeah well... It's over 3K, and I haven't uploaded daily in a bit :P
That's all for a good reason though: Kinktober, baby!

I know you've been waiting for this... I figured you guys deserved a long, hot night with Mistress Havoc after getting this little dirty fic to 1000 reviews!
xo,

Pearly

40. Isabella

"B, I swear to God…your schedule is packed today. Are you okay with me taking over your nine o'clock? That way you can take on that new client. He's been asking for you—no one else." Rose whips her head around, golden locks twirling down the back of the chair.

"Seriously? That bad today?" It's been busy all week, and I've been avoiding looking at my schedule today. It's Friday night, and I was hoping to have some me-time.

"Yeah, but if I take Robbins at nine, you'll have half an hour to yourself before Mr. Newbie shows up."

"Do you have his list?" I check the clock on my phone. Eight thirty-five.

"Yeah, it's right here." Rose hands me a file, and I take it from her, sinking down into the big velvet chair in the back room. The new client applied as Mr. X, which is kind of strange. At least go by Mr. Smith. Most guys give a fake name until they feel comfortable enough to give me their real one. I guess this one is a high-profile dude again, perhaps an A-lister; or just someone who can't afford to let their hobbies out of the shadows.

Mr. X, healthy as a horse. Clean tests, but it's the next sequence that makes me frown—makes me read it countless times before I abandon the file in my lap and think. Who the fuck has no hard limits? Only soft ones?

I am willing to submit fully to Mistress Havoc, and her alone. I'll let her have my body to enjoy, punish, and praise as she sees fit. This is my first time, though. So, I am open to absolutely anything, and I'll try everything at least once. That's how limits are born.

Seems like X knows what he's talking about, but I put the file aside for now. He hasn't listed any kinks, so I finally have free rein over my wardrobe again. I go into my dressing room, pick out my mesh bodysuit, and pair lacy black underneath. I finish off with a body harness that hugs my thighs and frames my ass perfectly. Handmade, the leather smell intoxicating—getting me right in the mood for my last client. Maybe I'll wear this to the club later.

Rose leans against my door, curvaceous body encased in red leather, zippers across her tits; laced-up thigh-high boots making her legs look even longer than they naturally are. Her hair is pulled all the way back in a high ponytail that makes her look fierce as fuck. Lady Viper is ready for her session, too.

"Looking good, Rose," I say. "Do you still have my boots?" I look around but can't find my trusty Louboutin platform boots.

"No, I put them in the polish pile. You know Henderson comes by on Monday. He loves to clean our shoes." Rose gives me a wicked smile before she winks. I agree; it's much better to have him do it than do it ourselves. I like my shoes to be spotless, anyway.

"Oh, neat." I walk to my shoe rack, but Rose is first. She nods to my knee-length Demonias with the silver buckles all down the front.

"Mhmm, great choice, Ro."

xXx MYM xXx

It's nine-thirty on the dot when I hear the door of my room close. I picked the general room, nothing too fancy, too niche. We need to get to know each other first; I have to learn what X likes—what he wants from me. I wait for another minute or two, giving him something to get a little worked up over. It'll show me his dedication, his posture—his ability to follow orders.

I order all new clients to wait for me, knees on the floor. No pillow—they've got to earn that privilege first.

When I close the door behind me, I'm pleased. More than pleased. Mr. X told me on his application he'd never done this before. He's never hired a Dominatrix, but fuck. His posture is fucking perfect: back straight, head bent, palms up on strong, muscular thighs. Good boy.

X isn't naked; instead, he's wearing black, seamless boxers and a sleeveless hoodie, unzipped with the hood up. He looks like the fucking Grim Reaper. A hot one—a familiar one—though. Then some strands of hair escape his hood, and I almost can't contain the gasp that bubbles up my throat.

"Ginger," I mutter. He's here, asa paying customer?

He remains silent, taking deep breaths that make his shoulders rise and fall. He's…doing this for real. He's fucking trying. I don't know what to say. Is this about what happened at the hotel? Is this because I keep avoiding him?

I walk up behind him, my heels clacking loudly on the polished concrete floor until my shins meet his clothed back. Ginger's biceps tense, and I watch him closely as I wait for the bomb to explode, but it doesn't. Not yet anyway. I've been holding my breath, and I release it as I part my legs, the soles of his feet inches from my heavy platform shoes.

"Welcome, Ginger." I test the waters, noticing how his breathing picks up a notch and that he's opened his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. I can hear the metal of his piercing click against his teeth. My fingers curl around his bare shoulders, strong and hard under my touch, and I let my nails dig in a little. "Nasty habit," I bark. His dentist will be grateful for my remark.

"It's kind of rude to ignore your Mistress greeting you, pet…" I'm being overly dramatic, tsk'ing and leaning down. He's getting more of me than I ever give in sessions; I'm letting my tits rest against his back as I bend down to whisper in his ear, my hair tickling his arms. Ginger's breathing turns shaky when I step in front of him, bending to grab his pretty, scruffy face. I lift his head, but he keeps his eyes down. Very good boy, indeed. His obedience makes me wet. If I'd known he was Mr. X, I might have worn my crotchless panties instead.

"Look at me," I order. My voice is calm but laced with promise. I want him begging for me, for my touch. I also want to make sure he'll never forget how grateful I am for this. He's doing more than I ever could. Submitting. Trusting me. I'm in awe of his ability, because his character, his ego, his sexual energy is so strong—so dominant—that this has got to be tough for him.

His green eyes disarm me, fierce and full of fire when he meets my gaze. I forgot how vibrant, how vivid they were and how they made my body ache for him. I bite my lip, knowing he can't see the effect he has on me, and shake this feeling off. I've got a job to do, and he's paid me—generously.

"Well?" I arch a brow at him, eyes narrowed as he remains silent, his eyes wandering over my face.

"Thank you for having me, Mistress Havoc." I can't believe it's his voice. It's deep, grainy, and so fucking hot it makes me want to listen to him all fucking night. Yet, there's something else, something new there. He's polite and well-spoken, a softness I haven't ever noticed before.

"What brought you here tonight?" I wonder.

"I need to explore the world of submitting again. I have to learn to put my trust in someone else, in order to have them trust me, Mistress."

Fuck. Now he's impressing me. For a Dominant, he sure as fuck knows a lot about the protocol I love. I guess he has his subs address him respectfully, too.

"What's your kink, Ginger?" I genuinely want to know, and his eyes smolder dangerously. He's speaking the truth, I can just tell. This isn't agame—not like it was before.

"I love it when a gorgeous woman lets me eat her pussy and uses my cock to get off," he answers quickly.

Shit.

"That's it?" I feign being indifferent to all of this even though I can feel desire's flames lick at me everywhere. "No weird shit? No ballbusting, or maybe financial domination?"

"No, Mistress," he says firmly. "I'm here to learn what my fetishes might be. As a submissive, that is."

"Let me ask you something, Ginger." I walk in a circle until I sit down in my chair, crossing my legs and feeling the seam of my thong brush up against my clit. He keeps his eyes on me, doing as he's told. Seeing him like this makes the fire burn in different ways than it did before. He is a fucking switch. He does both roles so well—from what I've already seen. It's egging me on beyond comprehension.

"You're in my dungeon, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he breathes.

"So, that means you're ready to submit to me." I don't even phrase it as a question. I know it's true. He must be or he wouldn't be here.

"Of course, but Mistress?" Ginger shoots me a smirk, like the feisty fucker I know he is.

I nod his way and arch a brow, urging him to continue.

"My terms of submission are still the same," he says softly, blinking a couple of times. "I want to earn your trust, Mistress, in order for you to be able to give some to me." I listen to him, appreciating the way he's stepping out of his comfort zone like this. We've talked, we've met at Jasper's…but this? Whenever he's in my vicinity, I crave more; like we had in that hotel room. I want this push and pull and tug of war until we're both sated and sweaty—on the verge of breaking. I've grown to like him. The guy behind this all, the man underneath the Dom. Edward.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?" I begin. "Let me remind you, your session is only a one-hour one, Ginger." I chuckle, watching him wet his lips as his eyes roam over my body. "What do you want?" I bark.

"Use me, Mistress…please, use me…"

Fuck, if that didn't just make me cream my panties.

"Crawl." I watch him watch me, his fingers dancing on the tops of his thighs, full lips slightly parted. "Now, Ginger…" As quickly as his demeanor falls, he gets his act together again. I break the Dominant, make him crawl on hands on knees until he's sitting at my feet, head bowed so his chin meets his broad chest. I uncross my legs, swinging one over him, and look at Edward as he's staring at my crotch.

"You want this pussy, Ginger?" I ask him, hands trailing over the soft mesh of my bodysuit, down lower until I feel the cool buttons at the clasp. The fabric is damp, and I'm so fucking ready for him. I haven't come in days and it's starting to make me anxious.

"Please, Mistress." He sighs.

"Eat me," I command. My legs are spread wide, the copper and gold of his hair mixing perfectly in the dark palette of our clothes—the room, everything. He's like a flame in the darkest pits of the night, and I watch him struggle not to take charge.

"Today, boy." The name-calling makes him tick, green eyes narrowed and vicious as a smirk coats his face. He wipes it off before his fingers trail a path over my inner thighs, meeting the clasp of my bodysuit—he gasps as he feels how wet I am, his eyes burning holes through my fucking soul.

The unsnapping of buttons and our labored breathing are the only noises in the room. I don't play music while working—that's reserved for scenes with my sub, for fucking, but right now I'm itching to find my playlist and dust it off—while we fuck ourselves into oblivion.

Edward's fingers are slightly cold from sitting and waiting here, brushing under the edge of my soiled panties, dragging them to the side.

"Rip them." I groan. I can't stand to be covered up for one more second. I need his skilled lips on my pussy. Now.

His grin is wicked as he finds the thin sides, flimsy lace keeping my hot, wet center away from him, but then he surprises me, neck bent as he rests his hands firmly on top of my thighs, making sure I keep my legs open for him. Ginger's breath is scorching against my pussy, and I whimper as he kisses me over my lace panties before he sets his teeth in them—rips them apart with his mouth. Another gush of arousal makes me feel dizzy and shit…I want him.

I don't need to give him any more instructions. Edward fucking Masen eats my pussy like it's made for him. It's only the second time, but damn…no one is this good. The cool jewelry in his tongue might as well sizzle when he circles my clit. He moans into me, fingers curling around my thigh, digging in—hard. I hiss when he sucks me into his mouth, tongue stroking me as far as he can reach.

"Fuckkk…" I gasp. "Add your fingers, Ginger." It's like he was waiting for my command, two fingers entering me so roughly, so fast it makes my head spin. He's right there—that spot—and my toes curl inside my boots. It's then I push him off me with my foot, a groan leaving his mouth, chin glistening with my juices. His green eyes are wild and deep when he looks at me like I stole his favorite toy.

"Sit," I bark. I stand up and make room for him, watch his arms flex as he lowers himself onto the leather chair, fingers curling around the armrests until his knuckles turn white. His abs are tense when I run a finger down his bare chest. I push his sleeveless hoodie off his shoulders, watch him get out of it. His cock is so hard it has to hurt, his swollen, leaking tip peeking out from under his waistband, taunting me. The chair is an antique and heavy as fuck so I lift myself onto the seat, feet next to his thighs. He's gazing up at me, wonder in his eyes, before I lift one leg up the back of the chair, spreading my pussy for him to see. I finger myself as he watches, and I hear him stifle a groan when I pump two fingers inside me, my wetness loud and clear. I moan, picking up the pace, my head cocked to the side.

"Breathe, Ginger." I chuckle.

"Mistress…" He sighs. I haven't done this in ages, not in here—never fucked one of my paying customers. It's never about that, but with him? I can't help myself. I lift my hand from my pussy and spread myself all over his face. He surprises me by opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue for me. I gather more of my wetness and make him gag on my fingers as he stares up at me. Pretty green turns watery when he chokes, and I feel my pussy twitch at the sight of him at my mercy.

"More?" I ask him. He nods silently, so I grab him by the hair and force his pretty mouth on my pussy again. He feasts on me, devours me like I'm a three-star meal and enjoys it, too. Shit, he's going to get that reward today…

My legs tremble, and my thighs keep flexing as he continues eating me out like he was born to do just that. I have him where I want him, under me and his mouth on me—my fingers digging into his scalp. He groans every few seconds when I yank harder, his hips bucking into thin air. Pretty boy likes a little pain: good.

"I'm coming." I pant. I'm so close I can almost taste the release, the fingers of my free hand curled around the back of the chair, almost splintering the wood.

"Mhmm," he grunts when I do. I come hard, shoving his face further into me, his stubble magnifying the friction, the pleasure, and I come down slowly, realizing I'm almost tearing his hair out.

"Good boy," I praise him. I'm no longer just a Dominatrix he paid for an hour of indulging his kinks. No, I'm his Domme—the sex partner he just paired up with, the one who's going to finally return the favor to him.

"Thank you, Mistress," he breathes. His face is wet from me, cheeks rosy pink, and he's smiling like the dirty fucker he is. "Can I be frank with you?" he asks.

"Enjoy that favor while it lasts, Ginger." I smile, getting down from the chair. "Sit."

He looks at me, green eyes wide and oh so fucking vibrant.

"Make me tell you twice and you will never get that reward, Ginger." I let him walk behind me, and he smirks when he sees me sit on the floor. "You were about to tell me something?" I bat my lashes, looking up at him with my palms on the tops of my thighs.

"Best pussy in town, Mistress."

I smile at my subject—savor the look of him, of his hard cock straining against his underwear, his eyes so wild they look unreal, the glint in his eyes and my juices all over his face. Fuck, he's too gorgeous to be true.

After all that's happened between the two of us, and even though I barely know the guy, I'm sure of it. I might as well let him try. He's come this far, now… it's the least I can do. Jasper is right. It's time to put some time and effort—real shit—into my encounters. I've let this trauma ruin my life for far too long, anyway.

I don't know what'll happen with us—our personalities—but I know that I'll at least have some fun getting to the answer to that question.

Don't we all want to know the answer to that question?
Thanks for reading! :)