Meter Level One - Establishing A Base Line!

As far as I was concerned she was a pseudo submissive. She played at being a sub’, and probably was to an extent, but only when she was calling the shots. I figured her out within the first couple of play sessions we did and knew she was constantly guiding the scene to her own advantage and topping me from the bottom.

I was too much of a professional not to be a little disgusted with myself that I continued to allow her to get away with her games but, let’s be honest, Amanda was very well off so I bided my time. Once I understood what she was doing I played along with her, until a few very healthy fees plus substantial bonuses were deposited in my bank, before deciding it was time to bring Amanda into the realm of my reality.

Mentally gritting my teeth I allowed things to continue for those few weeks with her getting off multiple times, never less than two or three, every session and me not even getting close to approaching my Domme space let alone getting any sexual satisfaction from the process. Then when a suitable opportunity presented itself that I could not ignore I made my move.

Amanda was now hooked on the fact that I knew her likes and dislikes so well I could bring her off those several times in a session. Sure, I knew she almost made it a hobby to screw any stud she ran across and liked the look of and, in fact, after our first couple of sessions, when I realized just how promiscuous she was, I told her to stay away until she could bring me a doctor’s report showing a clean bill of health and no STD’s.

She stayed away in an injured huff for two weeks but then phoned for an appointment and brought a copy of her checkup report. She couldn’t stay away because I was the one who knew all the delicate nuances that turned her on and could play her body like a violin. As a professional Domme, and a practicing lesbian, they were almost second nature to me. The ‘slam bam thank you ma'am’ quickies Amanda constantly tried with the male studs and any female with dollar signs in their eyes just couldn’t compete. So she turned to me, cash in hand, when she needed my expertise to get to that magical zone called satisfaction.

Gradually I dropped hints suggesting we needed an extended time period to really find out what we could do together and, just as gradually, she started to come around to the idea.

Finally, as I kept her hanging on the edge for about the third time, towards the end of a play period, she told me the plan she had worked out. Amanda would let all her friends and acquaintances (there was no family) know she was going away for two months to the Greek islands. The idea was that she would not even be answering her cell phone because she needed to get away and just relax and plan where she was going with her life.

Call it a sort of an introspection and meditation time out from life. Of course, anyone who knew her would automatically assume she had a new stud she wanted to keep to herself while she wore him out. I let her get off with another massive orgasm and tried to hide the grin on my face.

A few days later her private jet left the local airport and flew to the small Greek island supposedly with her on board; then it left on route to a French airport’s maintenance hanger for a complete overhaul.

UPS delivered several large boxes to my house the same day. Her Ladyship needed her wardrobe and the finer things in life. Later that morning Amanda arrived in a taxi after taking a roundabout route to my country estate. After pressing the button to open the security gate I watched as she paid off the cabbie.

Yet again she was trying to pull my strings by wearing a jogging suit, an expensive designer one to be sure, and tennis shoes with her blonde hair hidden under a soft cap. She knew how much I hated such casual clothes when we were supposedly Domme and submissive. They seriously lacked showing me the respect I deserved.

This time though I had anticipated the ploy and was one up on her by wearing my own comfortable sweat suit.