Loss Of Control (Futa/F, futa dom, humiliation, anal)

Hey all, this story is loosely related to Easy, a story I wrote a while back. This time it's from the sub's POV. I'm kind of imagining them as a series of interview transcripts, but don't make that distinction in the story.

Anyway, while I'm not as happy with it as I was with Easy, I hope it's still enjoyable!

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Of course I remember her. How could you forget someone like that? I remember every single detail. I still dream about her sometimes. I still don’t know whether they are dreams or nightmares, or whether I love her or hate her. What she did to me…

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

I used to be a rather successful businesswoman. I was moving up the career path of a particularly good consultancy firm, and I can tell you that that is an exceptionally difficult task to achieve as a woman. I’m not one for false modesty either – I know I am good-looking, and I work to keep myself toned and firm.

Still, I was nothing compared to her. I don’t know how she manages to be so slender and curvy at the same time. Her cleavage was so perfectly rounded and her ass swung like a pendulum. She was hypnotic, and I’m not even into girls.

Well, I wasn’t at the time, anyway.

I met her at a café where I was having a rare lunch break. I was still glancing over some reports, but it was the most relaxed I had been in weeks. She simply walked up and sat at my table. I glared at her, a little annoyed she had just barged in. She looked at me so cute and innocent, but I could also see a little steel behind those eyes. I found I couldn’t keep eye contact.

“You’re a businesswoman, right?” she asked. I just nodded tersely. She was leaning toward me, chin cupped in hands, cleavage pressed juicily against the table. I kept glancing at it. Her skin was so smooth and perfect, and her dress so perfectly cut, I just couldn’t help it. She parted her sensual lips in a wicked smile.

“See something you like?”

I turned back to my report. I was getting angry at her smugness.

“Like to be in control, huh?”

“Is there a point to this?” I asked.

“I like being in control too,” she said.

“Good for you.”

“Most people are too easy though,” she said, “Sometimes I like a bit of a challenge.”

She was looking at me a little oddly now, and smirking.

“What sort of challenge would someone like you offer?” I asked, a little bitchily. Her smile just broadened and her eyes lit up.

“A challenge of willpower, of course,” she said, “I want to see how much of me you can handle before you break.”

I laughed, but I had to force it out.

“You look like a whore,” I lied, “What the hell can you do to me