The Training of Melissa

by Severusmax

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Sadistic, Swinging, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Size, Workplace, Nudism, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: This is a revision of my earlier tale about a stripper who also has a day job and begins serving a colleague at the same agency.

Melissa punched in as usual for her day job, yawning in spite of the energy drinks that she guzzled to stay alert. Her other profession was an open secret, but as long as it didn't interfere with her performance at this one, none of her supervisors would take any notice of it. She was popular with many of her colleagues, after all.

There were exceptions, of course. Crystal, for example, hated Melissa. She viewed blondes like her as the deadly enemy of the rest of womankind. Heather had a secret crush on Melissa and resented her for not sharing it. That Melissa wasn't a mind reader failed to occur to the forty year old brunette. Finally, there was Trudy, a rather strict Mormon lady who simply viewed Melissa as morally inferior.

That didn't count the men, but few of them had any issues with Melissa. The only one who seemed to expressed little or no interest in her was Frank, a new agent with a stocky build, but a rather nice bulge that easily showed through his pants. He looked rather ethnic, which was fine with her, since it gave him a natural tan and dark, curly hair. He also seemed quite willing to flirt with other women, which hurt her pride a bit.

She let it go for a while, but one day she passed him in the hallway and caught him admiring her ass. She knew then that he found her physically attractive, so there had to be another reason. She decided right then that she would confront him at last. The opportunity came in a bar right after work, on a rare night that she was off.

"Frank, sweetie, can I ask you question?" Melissa asked him in her Brooklyn accent.

"I think that you just did. Besides, it's 'may I ask you a question'," he corrected her grammar.

"Oh, an English teacher, are you?" she shot back, though a little impressed in spite of herself.

"History teacher, in a past life. It got old, dealing with mouthy kids and a disciplinary system out of Dr. Spock. It was Hell on Earth, at least for me. Don't parents ever spank their kids anymore, or even backhand them? My old man would have kicked me into next year for some of their attitudes," Frank grimaced.

"How old are you?" she asked him, getting curious.

"Thirty-five, I think. Sometimes, I feel like I'm a hundred. That's three questions you've asked me now, and I doubt any of them is the one tormenting you," Frank grinned at her, since he had a pretty good idea of the real inquiry on her mind.

"How perceptive of you. Yeah, I just want to know why you're not acting on your lust. I can tell that you're a red-blooded guy like everyone else. You clearly enjoy looking at my ass. What's wrong, then? Why don't you flirt or hit on me like the other guys? It hurts my feelings, to be blunt. What do you have against me?" Melissa whined.

"No, it hurts your ego. This isn't about love or other mushy stuff. You like being queen bee, having all of the drones chase you. What happens to the poor schmucks after they show too much interest? Are you the sort to dangle three or four guys on a string, while you already have a boyfriend? If so, do you cheat on him or just mess with the poor fools' heads?

"I don't have time for mind games. I've waited to see you in action before I fall for your little cat-and-mouse stuff. For that matter, are you single and simply playing the field? That would be the most scenario from my point of view. You want candor, fine, let's be straight with each other. Which is it?" Frank demanded.

"Wow, that's rather 'frank' of you. Okay, you got me. I'm a single woman who just wants to have a good time. Is that a crime or are you a hypocrite? Or is it just that you hate to be jerked around? Fair enough, but I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just flirting with men. I admit that I like guys a lot. You're fun. I don't make any promises, at least not on purpose.

"Most of these guys are married, though to be brutally honest, that wouldn't stop me if I liked them enough. Hell, if I wanted a guy that much, even having a boyfriend wouldn't necessarily stop me. It's a cheating, but I'm only human, right? With most of them, it won't go any further than flirting, for the same reason that most guests at my other workplace get nothing more than a lap dance.

"It's attitude. I like it in guys. Not bravado, machismo, or trash talk. I mean things like brooding intensity, smoldering lust, stubbornness, and a certain sense of purpose. Most men these days are gutless. Feel free to blame the women's libbers. I do. They started well, freeing us ladies from stifling rules, but they neutered most guys somewhere down the line. They should have quit while they were ahead, if you ask me," Melissa ranted, suddenly realizing it and giving Frank an "oops" look that disarmed him.

"So, you're a maneater, but you're upfront about it. I can live with that. I even respect it. The cheating's a human weakness, mostly caused by society being sick and trying to force monogamy on a species of horny primates. That's true for both sexes. Double standards are stupid, though even I've been guilty of them now and then.

"My main failing is a suspicious and mistrustful nature. I see a lot of women who cheat on guys and then get all outraged when the man gets some of his own. There's a lot of that 'two wrongs don't make a right' platitude coming out of their mouths in a hurry. I have a different cliché that makes sense to me, namely, 'Turnabout's fair play.' This makes me a little jaded about women, I suppose.

"I believe in fairness, especially in a world that isn't fair. That one always gets me, because it's used as an excuse or a way to convince someone to put up with injustice. It's bullshit, as are many truisms trotted out whenever people find them useful or just want to sound deep. Most folks wouldn't know profundity if it bit 'em on the ass.

"Some of the parents I dealt with in the PTA meetings were real buffoons. Then again, so were most of my colleagues. It was just a job to them. There were a handful of us who actually gave a damn, but the rest of them were long since caught up in that tenure garbage. Once you had tenure, you didn't have to care about your job at all or do anything but go through the motions. Those teachers' unions are full of pencil-pushers who just want more perks and privileges, at the expense of the kids.

"So, what about you? How did you end up moonlighting as a stripper? Not that I mind. It's not my scene, because there's not enough bang for the buck. Sorry, that's just how I feel about it. I'm not judging, since a lot of guys find you to be of service. That's their deal. To each his own. I guess I'm something of a grouch at times. That's just me. I have an attitude, as you put it, so sue me," Frank finished his second Guinness of the night.

"I'll buy you the next ale if you keep talking. I'm starting to really like you, Frank. Not just because I think that you could fuck me all night long, though that's the impression that I get. It comes back to the attitude. I don't blame you for thinking that way about striptease. Probably more guys feel that way than you know. I'm personally glad that more don't, since that would be bad for business.

"I agree with you about the fairness and fidelity issues, not to mention all of those cute cliches. They get old after a while. I get that we girls are sometimes hypocrites, too. Another flaw. On the other hand, so is the guy who knows that I'm a stripper when he meets me and suddenly wants me to change jobs. It's okay for him to keep patronizing the gentleman's clubs, but not okay for me to work there. I've had that happen to me more than once.

"That's why I'm single this time. Joey never figured out that if he could look, so could I. I wasn't cheating on him, at least not at first. At the end, I did, but that's because I felt trapped and wanted to escape. I got my wish, when he caught me with three of his buddies. Okay, so I'm a slut. I really have no business swearing off other men. I think that I should let the next guy know upfront that jealousy's a deal-breaker. I don't really care if he fools around, as long as he doesn't expect me to wait at home for him. I'll be out getting some strange tail myself, not out of spite, just because I'm wild and I have needs.

"What I really want is a man who won't see me as just another stupid tramp, but as 'his slut'. By that I mean that he has his way with me, lets his buddies have their turn, and if he needs another girl, he just fucks her and doesn't apologize or make excuses for it. He also needs to take charge in the bedroom. I seem to be a magnet for guys who freak out when I talk about whips and bondage. They don't even wait to find out which one of us would be tied up. They just turn and run away. Vanilla guys are such bores. Yeah, I'm rather kinky. I like the whole BDSM scene. What are your views on that?" Melissa got out her purse and asked the bartender to get each of them a Guinness.

"So, you're kinky, slutty, and you can hold your liquor! Not a bad start. Here I thought that you were just a tease or a hypocrite. As it happens, I'm looking for two slave girls. By that, I mean willing sex slaves, not women I've raped and abducted. I might borrow another man's slut now and then, but I want that to be an occasional thing. It would be nice to have someone to offer as repayment for a night or two. Someone willing to be a party favor.

"As it is, I can't go to some leather clubs, because I don't have a slave or two yet. They require masters and mistresses to bring our own slaves. Most importantly, it would be nice to come home to a nice, clean place and two sexy women eager to suck my cock and bend over for me. If they don't mind popping out a baby or two, that would be nice as well.

.... There is more of this story ...

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