Given an option

The store wasn’t too far by car, surprisingly only around a ten minute drive. The building stood alone in a parking lot, with a big audacious sign on the top. The sign spelled DOMME-NO’S, next to a Betty page caracature wearing a leather corset top and whipping a pizza box open. ‘That’s certainly eye catching’ you think as you park and calm your nerves. Once you’ve built up your confidence, you head to the front door and inside.

At first glance you’d think this was a normal restaurant. Hostess stand, bar with stools to one side, and multiple tables. Two things stand out as massively outside the ordinary. The first was the back, where a separate room separated by glass held a large number of fetish themed furniture. The other clear oddity was the staff itself. While physically they were diverse, from a small kawaii Japanese waitress to a tall and muscular Arian woman, each of the staff was dressed in extremely sexual, and mostly aggressive outfits. Most wore some form of latex or leather, but some opted for a more themed wear like the Japanese girl in a overly vivid school girl outfit, or a women you spy leaving the side door in what tooled to be English riding attire.

As you wait at the hostess stand, the picture becomes clearer. You see the waitresses laugh and smile as they play up their intimidating roles, and the patrons loving it. The Arian lady, wearing a dark green rubber military outfit, actually let one of the guys she was serving get down and kiss her highly polished heeled boots, before she playfully lifted him to his knees and slapped him hard, which he thanked her for.

Finally someone came to greet you. She was a y’all black woman, kinky curls falling to her bare shoulders. She may have been a bit heavy, but in her corset all you could really notice were her double E breasts, barely contained in a red top. Her 4 inch heels clicked as she approached, thigh high shiny black boots that ended where her black skirt began. She looked you up and down quickly, saying “Alex correct? Follow me.”

With that she turned and headed to the bar, where you instinctively followed. She pointed you to a bar stool that was so tiny you had to straddle it, and it felt more like an oversized dildo trying to impale you than a chair. “I must say,” she began, “you are the first male to apply here. Now I’m not complaining, certainly many of our girls would like a boy to play with who’s not paying for it, and we have had requests for cuties that are packing real meat, but I must ask. Do you understand what a normal girl does here? Are you hoping to be like them, and get men and the occasional woman to pay you to **** and dominate them?”

You gulp, wanting to make sure you take your time and respond correctly. She takes your moment of pause to ask something else though. “Or... well it isn’t a standard position, but we could use the help of such an adorable thing on our shows as a sub, and maybe servicing and helping our girls in between. Maybe being the cute sissy mascot is more to your tastes?”