by chris.lionofthenorth

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Superhero, FemaleDom, .

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: With Angela's pleasurable touch comes a great deal of personal anguish. Will she learn how to use her power to exact revenge on those who have wronged her?

This story and others from this author should only be enjoyed in a responsible manner. If you find yourself wanting to enact anything in these stories, or feel that you might develop a fetish, please do not read any further. Sex addiction is a very real problem, and the author does not wish to encourage this kind of behavior

Alright, it's go time.

Angela had never committed this kind of crime before- breaking and entering was not her style. But what's hers is hers, and no one was going to stop her.

Angela gracefully climbed up and over the 10' high brick wall, managing to avoid cutting herself on the short, pointed iron fence that lined the top. She was sure glad she hadn't gotten her lycra suit caught on the fence, because that suit would've torn all the way, leaving most of her body's skin exposed.

The 2-story sprawling mansion towered above the 15-acre property, with its stone walls and many windows. Angela had done some reconnaissance at the insistence of Marcus, a professional criminal and associate of hers. By walking her through her observations of the place, Marcus had alerted Angela to the blind spots of the cameras. That was how she knew which section of the wall to climb over.

There was armed security at the mansion; however it consisted of only one man, a person named "Wheadon". He patrolled the grounds twice a day, spending most of his time inside the house. Marcus figured he spent most of his time in a security room, away from the mansion's owners and guests.

That cheap bastard will get what's coming to him, Angela thought, thinking of the mansion's owner.

Angela scanned the ground last time before planning her route to the house. She briefly recalled her encounter with Mr. Dalio 17 days prior-

"And if anything gets out of hand, I'll pull her immediately. No violent stuff, nothing unseemly" my security attachment, Adam, said.

"That won't be a problem. All of the specifics for the escort encounter have been firmly laid out, and everyone is aware of the rules" the other man said. He looked to be 6'2'' and 220 pounds of muscle. I didn't think many people could stand up to Adam in a fight, but this man looked like one of them.

"Alright, Miss Bella, have fun" he told me. I smiled at him and tried to pump myself up for another meaningless night of platitudes and empty sex- You got this, Angela. You're a sexy animal, ready to pounce on this man. Never mind he's one of the richest guys in the city.

Opening the wooden double doors, I entered the study, where my client waited. He was wearing a red smoker's jacket and black silk pajamas, standing over by his large study desk. I walked in as nonchalantly as I could in my 4-inch heels, which were killing my feet- I was still pretty new to dressing up. This was the part where introductions were made, and I wanted to make a good first impression.

"Hello Mr. Dalio, I am Miss-"

"Yes, I know who you are" he interrupted me, in a low booming voice. It wasn't the first time I had encountered a high-profile client with a lack of respect. I knew they liked to take the lead, so I waited.

There was no follow up from Mr. Dalio, not a single utterance to continue our conversation. Instead, his steely gaze warned me not to speak again. He's judging me, I realized.

Trying not to look uncomfortable, I stepped to my right and shifted my weight there. With my right hand on my hip and my left arm straight down my left side, I was giving him a pose. After all, that's probably what he wanted.

Mr. Dalio continued to look me over, so I had a chance to look him over, too. He was likely in his late 50's, judging by his receding hairline and grey hair. He was of average height, and a little chubby. With the smoker's jacket on, he looked like Hugh Heffner, but with a 'dirty old man' feel to him.

"You gonna stand there all night like a freakin' mannequin, or you gonna do somethin'?" he barked at me. I suddenly felt self-conscious about myself, so I let my arm drop.

"Whatever you want me to do" I smiled at him, trying to seem as pleasant as possible.

"Yeah, you're damn right. I'm paying top dollar for a second-rate chick, so you better be good in the sack".

My jaw dropped a little in shock. What the fuck did he just say? Second-rate?

I had to quickly swallow my pride and put on an air of indifference to his words. After all, this was the only kind of work I was really good at, and it paid very well. I needed to get this over with.

"Alright then, Mr. Dalio. Where would you like us to go?" I was expecting us to go out to a social gathering or performance. That's what escort services were usually for.

"Right there" he said, nodding to an old-fashioned leather couch. He seemed to enjoy my consternation. He grabbed a drink of something that looked like whiskey off his desk and took a swig.

"The bedroom is for my wife. She doesn't care what skanks I bring in here, as long as they stay out of our bedroom." Oh my gosh, the gall of this man.

I nodded in understanding. He's not giving me much direction, I thought, waiting for him to make a move toward the couch. "Alright, just tell me what you want me to do" I replied, hoping he would break the tension. Maybe he'll call the whole thing off.

Mr. Dalio finished his drink and walked over to the couch. I saw him wave me over impatiently, so I walked quickly over to him.

"I'll be honest, miss, I've seen bigger tits on most of the girls from Fantasia Girls. Bigger asses, too. You've got nice skin, and you're not too old, but I'm expecting a little more for the money I'm spending."

What a complete asshole. Should I just leave?

"So you better be good at dancing, and fucking. I mean, sex like fucking porn stars. That's what I want from you. Let's see whatcha got" he nodded up to me.

Feeling self-conscious, I knew I wouldn't be giving a great performance, not without special help. I certainly didn't want to give him a taste of what he wanted, either. He didn't deserve the sexual pleasure I could give people. But I had an idea.

Shaking my long blonde hair back, I started to feel around my body with my gloved hands, closing my eyes to focus on feeling sexy again. Blocking out where I was at the moment, I let my hands explore the bright red dress I was wearing, eventually settling on rubbing my breasts. Although I didn't have a lot of cleavage showing at first, I was able to knead my breasts so that it would show more skin.

I eventually moved my left hand towards my crotch, curling my fingers into my pussy like I was masturbating.

Opening my eyes, I saw Mr. Dalio watching me impatiently. This isn't working, I realized.

Switching my style, I turned around and backed into Mr. Dalio, relieved to be avoiding eye contact. I placed my butt on his crotch, hands on the couch on either side of him. Using my hands as anchors, I leaned forward a little and used my legs to rotate my ass on top of his crotch. With the thin silk lining of his pajamas, my dress was able to slide effortlessly over him.

"This is taking too long, sweet cheeks. You should suck my cock." The idea of sucking his old shriveled cock disgusted me.

I stopped my gyrations for a second and turned my head to the side, "I can usually make men ejaculate just by rubbing on them like this, sometimes in less than a minute." I hoped he took offense to it.

I heard a laugh instead, "Sweetie, I'm not even at half a chub. There's no freakin' way you could make me ejaculate in less than a minute. Just suck my cock like a good little girl."

I stood up and turned around to face him, staring challengingly into his smug face. "Then I'll make you a deal- if I can make you ejaculate with my lap dance in less than a minute, you double my pay. If I can't, then you can have me for free tonight. Deal?" I continued to stare at him. The look in my eyes told him I was serious.

He only thought about it for a moment- "Ha, that's ridiculous. No girl is that good."

"Good, sounds like you'll win", I said, "Rules are: you let me move however I want, without any resistance. Your manhood stays in your pants, and I won't be allowed to touch it directly. You can count to sixty."

"Girl, you must be crazy. After Miss Fantasia hears about how you lost the money, I guess I won't be seeing you online anymore, heh."

"Feeling confident?" I asked, "Maybe you'd like to up the ante." I crossed my arms to appear more confrontational. I knew he wouldn't like that from a second-rate chick like me.

"Sure, hun. Whad'ya had in mind?" he said, reclining backwards, fingers locked together behind his head.

"If you cum before 30 seconds are up, you quadruple my pay, and I go home immediately, job done. If I don't make you cum in 30 seconds, not only will you get me for free, I'll do whatever you want for 4 hours. And I mean anything" I added, head tilted down. There were some things this client had asked for, that no girl would agree to.

"Make it triple your rate, and you have a deal" he said. Even when the deal is too good to be true, he had to negotiate better terms.

"Deal" I said, closing my eyes. "I'll tell you when to start." Slowly, I took off my long Opera-Length satin gloves, exposing my bare hands for the first time. I undid my heels and kicked them off, ignoring the pompous look on his face. It was finally time to release myself, to let go of the energy building inside of me.

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