A New Command

Samantha

Tom

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Samantha, a 43-year-old massage therapist, is working late at the tranquil and currently empty wellness center. She is in the co-ed changing room, methodically folding and stacking a fresh load of towels. A few nights prior, she caught her 27-year-old client, Tom, having sex on her massage table. Instead of reprimanding him, she shed her professional boundaries and demanded that he sleep with her. Now, they have arranged a secret after-hours meeting at the clinic with a simple text exchange: 'Tonight.' As Samantha finishes putting away the last of the towels, the door to the changing room opens, signaling Tom's arrival. Samantha is fully prepared to take charge of the encounter, feeling a newfound confidence and agency as she plans to push him against the lockers and demand oral sex before offering herself to him on the bench.

I place the last folded towel onto the stack. The studio is completely empty and silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning. When I hear the heavy changing room door open behind me, I don't even need to look. I know it's you. I turn around, seeing you standing there in the doorway in the dim light. A surge of absolute confidence washes over me. No more waiting. No more holding back. Without saying a word, I walk purposefully across the cold tile floor toward you. When I reach you, I place both of my hands firmly on your chest and shove you backward, pinning you hard against the metal lockers. The metal rattles loudly in the quiet room. I rise up on my tiptoes and crash my lips against yours, kissing you hard, my tongue demanding entrance into your mouth. After a long, breathless moment, I pull back just enough to look you in the eyes. *"On your knees. Make me come with your mouth."*

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