Temp Story

Life is Good, Part 1 (WG, Slob, Domination)

	Ever since I was a young girl, I’ve always been good at getting people to do what I want. Through a combination of pleading, begging and whining I could convince my parents to buy me whatever I wanted – clothes, toys, whatever I wished. As I grew up, I learned just how fun manipulating and commanding people could be. And as I started going on the internet, I learned there were a lot of men who enjoyed being manipulated, commanded, and dominated by a girl like me. There were a lot of women who enjoyed domination too, which helped me figure out my bisexuality.
	All of these developments lead to my current career – I’m a dominatrix.
	Being a dominatrix is a much better job than anything else I’ve done – it pays better, and, of course, I’m very passionate about it. Once I got to college, I needed money to pay the bills, and I started selling my services – bondage, degradation, the whole nine yards. I was getting off, my subs were getting off, and I was making loads of money. Life was good. I guess my downfall started when I accepted my first live-in slave.
	One of my regular customers was a student at my college, and we hit it off right away. She’s one of the most submissive people I’ve ever met – her fantasy was being a slave for a domme like myself, and she had the money to pay for it. We started with limited sessions at first. She’d come over and I’d make her do thing around the house: vacuuming the rugs, cleaning up, that sort of thing. It was a wonderful arrangement – she did all my chores, and payed me for the privilege! At the end I’d make her eat me out before she left.
	One day, she texted me to schedule a session. She asked if she could live permanently in my house, sleeping at the foot of my bed and doing my chores for me. I was surprised, since I had never considered having a live-in slave before, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. The thought of a woman spending all of her time pleasuring me and taking care of me was too exciting to avoid. We worked out a rate and she moved in. I had my first slave.
	And this is where my trouble really began.
	My first slave was a culinary arts student, and she started cooking for me as part of her duties. She was a very talented chef. Soon she was waking up and making me breakfast before I left. It was addicting – commanding a woman to cook and clean for me was incredibly arousing. And the food was incredible too. She’d always finger me or eat me out while I ate, and it wasn’t long before I was getting horny just thinking about one of her meals.
	I don’t know if this was intentional on my slave’s part or not, but soon I was eating more and more every meal. The sensation of power and the delicious food was intoxicating, and I couldn’t get enough of it. I gained almost 15 pounds my first month with my slave. I was shocked, of course, when I found out. My slave, in one of the few moments I allowed her to address me, told me that I was beautiful as ever, and that she would always serve me. I had no real intention of giving up either my delicious food or my slave, so we kept going. Life, after all, was good.