The Hands That Lead

A hands on kind of leader…

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Saturday January 21, 2017

Look I know you think that this stupid ‘enchanted’ ear ring gives you some kind of power over me, but we’ve had this conversation too many times now and I’m tired of it.“ Vicky said, glaring at Paul, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

"Yes, I’m sure you are but I always enjoy listening to you try and rationalize it, so humor me.”

“Fine… so let me get this straight, the ear ring in my right ear, the family heir loom that I never take out, is actually some kind of magic gem that lets you control me?  Is that right?”

“Yes, yes it is.  And it’s not a family heir loom, until three months ago you’d never seen it before.”

“That’s silly.” she responded and walked over to the dresser where several photos were, she picked one up and brought it over to him.

“See, there it is on my ear and this photo is at least 10 years old.” she said pointing at the large hoop ear ring that adorned her ear in the photo.

“That’s a fake plastic gold hoop you had back then when we were first dating.”

“Ugh.  Are you blind?  Your impossible!” she said and tossed the photo on to the bed.

“Ok, so if it’s an enchanted ear ring, then how do you control me, with some kind of wand or something?”

“No, don’t be silly, that’s the slave ring, this here is the master ring.” I said, pointing to my own right earlobe.

“You don’t wear an ear ring, don’t be silly.”

“No, I’ve worn this one for the last three months too, I just commanded you not to notice.  Just like I command you to never take yours off.  Not that it would matter much now, I’ve given you enough commands over the last little while to keep you firmly in place even without the ear ring.”

“Ok, so for a moment, for the sake of argument, let’s say I believe you.  You have a set of magic ear rings that give you complete control over me.  Why haven’t you done anything with it then?”

“Oh, you just don’t realize it when I give you commands, you think they’re your own ideas, that’s all.”

“Rediculous, like what?”

“Take a look in the mirror, what colour is your hair?”

“Blonde of course, I dyed it a few months ago for a change.”

“Really, tell me, what do you always say about blondes?”

“Better dead then blonde, of course.  I mean blondes are just dumb sex kittens that hang off mens arms.”

“So why is your hair blonde?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not really blonde, it’s kind of blonde-red if you really take a close look.  What else have you got?”

“Ok, how about your boobs?”

She squeezed them together in the tight latex and lifted them up slightly, “What about them?”

“Why on earth did you get implants?  An not just regular ones, but big, round fake ones?”

“Well, I mean time stands still for no one and my natural b cups were starting to sag a bit.”

“B cups sag?  Really?  Weren’t you the one that always said a woman that let a plastic surgeon cut in to her breasts was a traitor to womankind?”

“Well, yes, but that was in my younger days, I’ve matured and have a better appreciation for their work now.”

“Younger days, like 3 months ago when you gave a speech to a packed room full of feminists about the evils of the plastic surgery world?”

“Oh come on now, you exaggerate, it was longer than three months ago and the room wasn’t that large.  It was just a bunch of friends getting together and having a friendly chat, that’s all.  I mean I might have gotten caught up in the moment and said somethings I didn’t mean, but it didn’t hurt anyone.”

“And how about your shoes?”

She looked down at the heels and smiled, “What about them, aren’t they lovely?”

“A little high for you though, right?  I mean I’ve known you for over 10 years and never seen you in more than a running shoe.”

“Well, I’ve always liked shoe, I’ve just never had a chance to spend the time to buy anything but practical shoes.  So when I had some time off of work, I figured why not?”

“Yes, about that time off work.  Why did you take a sabbatical again from the law firm?”

“To do research, you know that.  I can’t very well defend prostitutes if I don’t know anything about their lives after all.”

“And what your wearing… that’s part of your ‘research’?”

“Of course, the client was very specific about my appearance and I can’t very well disappoint him if I’m going to get any valid research data from him.”

“So, lets review.  You’ve quit your job, dyed your hair, gotten implants, dressed up like a hooker and are about to be paid for sex.  Does that just about sum it up?

"Yes, that sounds about right, but I haven’t quite my job, it’s just a sabbatical.”

“Of course it is, well then don’t let me stop you, you’d better get to your client.”

“Thank you, now where did I put my purse…”

Suddenly her eyes closed and her ear grew a little warm as her body shuttered.  She opened them again and smiled.

“Well hello Sir, did you order a horny, slutty girl for the evening?”

“*giggle* That’s great Sir, then I’m in the right place.” she said and jiggle her tits from side to side as she walked over to her client.

Tonight she was looking to do some research on anal sex, and by the look in the man’s eye, he was more than willing to help her.

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