Obedient Lawyer

Mila storms into the lawyer’s office ready to rip him apart. Her husband’s dead and the will’s wrong—crypto everywhere except her pocket. She spits every ugly word she can think of, and the guy just sits there taking it, eyes glassy, pants straining. That’s when it hits her. He likes the beating. “On your knees,” she snaps. He drops. Crawls when she points. She shoves one shoe in his face and he licks the leather without being told. She laughs low, kicks the shoe off, and plants her bare foot on his tongue. When she turns, that big round ass fills his vision. She backs up slow until his nose is buried between her cheeks, then grinds until every breath he takes belongs to her. He moans into it. She doesn’t move until he promises—right there with his face full—that the will gets fixed today. She sits on his face next, full weight, rocking until his hands claw the carpet. Spit slides from her lips and lands on his tongue when she orders him to swallow. He does. She grinds harder, uses him until his face is slick and red, then stands. “You’re driving me home. You’re mowing my lawn. You’re doing whatever the hell I say.” He nods, face shiny, still hard. She smiles like she just bought herself a new toy. Her obedient lawyer slave.