Read The Unexpected Dom #1: Jennifer's Revenge (BBW BDSM Male Submission) for Free Online

lips.”
    A plume of shame rolled through her, making Jennifer embarrassed and angry at once. All this money, all this effort, all this time and all she would get out of this day was the knowledge that her husband had been fucking this woman for years and now she, Jennifer, was paying this woman even more money to teach her how to meet her own husband's needs?
    Bullshit . “Bullshit,” she spat, the word hanging in the room. The same anger that had driven Jennifer to yesterday's antics with Declan rose within, making her hate the very woman she'd just hired.
    The dominatrix's left corner of her mouth twitched. Jennifer wasn't cowed anymore. Hell, she was actually the boss, right? The paying client? She could understand why Declan was so enamored with Miss Sally; the woman oozed sensuality and control. Right now, though, Jennifer was a ball of anger, hurt, frustration and pain, and Miss Sally was going to help undo some of that.
    Whether she liked it – or not.
    Silence. Jennifer continued. “I got desperate yesterday and did something that I never, ever, in a million years thought would work. My goal was revenge. Or just getting Declan to stay in one place long enough to listen to me, for fuck's sake. Do you have any idea how hard that is? To get your husband to listen to you when he decides not to?”
    Miss Sally watched Jennifer with rapt attention, her face neutral as a stone wall. It unnerved Jennifer a bit, and then a flash of sef-consciousness hit her as she realized she, like Declan, was wearing the residue of their lovemaking.
    As well as a Dom outfit. Or, at least, her idea of a Dom outfit. The fishnet stocking had torn at her right big toe and the leather was creeping up her ass cleft. Willing the sensations and the embarrassment aside, she continued.
    “Of course you don't. You have people paying you $400 an hour for your attention. Four hundred dollars! You must be rolling in it.”
    For the first time since Jennifer began her little tirade, Miss Sally spoke. “Actually, $400 is pretty low. It's not how I make most of my income.”
    Seriously? The woman finally opens her mouth and this is what she's willing to share? Jennifer gaped like a fish out of water, but she took what she could get.
    “So you earn more than that? Doing what ?”
    The bright red lips parted, showing perfectly-even teeth, a show of a childhood and adolescence that involved some fairly expensive orthodontics. Her teeth were gleaming white, so perfect that not even cosmetic dentistry could buy this kind of improvement. Miss Sally's nose was symmetrically planted on her face; a less severe haircut and she would look like a supermodel.
    She stood, then straightened her slim skirt, seemingly irritated by the few, light wrinkles caused by their sitting. “I'm not privy to say, Jennifer, but let's just leave it at this: I help very, very flawed people to get what they really want. And need. And people will pay more than you ever imagined to get what they really need.”
    Jennifer snorted. She couldn't help herself. “Yeah, right. People pay you to have sex with them.”
    The speed with which Miss Sally closed the gap between them was breathtaking; her face was inches from Jennifer's, suddenly, her arms by her side. “I have one rule, Ms. MacIntire.” The change in address terrified Jennifer suddenly. “I never, ever touch my clients. And they never, ever touch me.”
    Miss Sally stepped back, eyes dark and cold. “Whatever you think I do with my clients, think again. Your ideas are so off base that you can't even imagine the world I create for them. Frankly, you won't let yourself.”
    Creating worlds of what? Jennifer wondered, back to being intimidated by the dominatrix. Miss Sally stood, backbone ramrod-straight, and stared at Jennifer with an intensity that was so erotic she wanted to reach out and kiss her. Or slap her.
    She wasn't sure which.
    “I won't let myself imagine what?”
    “The freedom that people struggle to