The Matchmaker.

[An_Jon]

Introduction:

“I’m a man who will never waste your time, so let me get straight to the point. If you want any knowledge about who or what I am then I would redirect your attention to my business cards, otherwise I want your eyes fixed firmly on me.”

There was nowhere else for her poor eyes to look.

“You can call me whatever you’d like. Sir, Master, Him – I don’t give a damn.” I moved closer towards my client. “I’m all of these things and more, and less.” I position myself until my shadow covers her. I like that. I had a light installed behind my desk for that very reason. “I am your Matchmaker. I don’t want your desperate, virgin pussy. I don’t want to care for you. I don’t want to touch you. I’m here to get you fucked.” I lean in, lower my voice. “I never fail.”

It’s at this point they usually sweat a little. Shift a bit in their seats. I’ve seen all of that before, but she barely moved and inch. Strong. I can respect that. Perhaps the type who likes having control over her life yet enjoys a risk. I’m certainly not turned on by the weak, I can assure you. This girl has potential. I’ll make a note to keep my eye on her.

I return my attention back to her as a client.

“I trust you have your full identification. Hand them over.”

“Here, um, Matchmaker…” She’s less sure of herself when she speaks, apparently. She’ll learn in time. “My driver’s licence, passport, birth certificate and bank details.”

She gives not one, two, but three nervous glances towards her bank details. Her name, therefore, is not important to her; but her money? Ah, we have leverage. The next part, therefore, is almost irrelevant. If she respects her bank account more than her name she won’t care who sees her tits.

“The photos, Miss Reed?” I didn't even need to glance at her documents. I know all of my client’s names, faces and details before they walk through the door; though it’s sometimes more comforting for them to think that they’re actually handing them over.

“Here, Matchmaker.” She still stutters over what to call me. She handed over those photos without so much as a pause for breath. Exposing her won’t hurt her anywhere near as much as ‘holding’ her money will.

“Any questions?” I move back behind my desk and stare into her eyes. They’re a most beautiful shade of blue. I have no time for beauty, it’s pointless.

“How long d-does this usually take?” She is nervous. She’s a good actor, then.

“I’ll find you someone within 2-3 days. You will meet when I arrange it and you will go all the way with what I tell you to do.” I pause, allowing for further questions.

“But what if I’m uncomfortable?” I lean forward, slowly.

“Miss Reed, if you’re at all uncomfortable, then you can back out at any time.” She sighs with relief. “Just be aware, though, that you signed a contract.” Her eyes are back totally fixated on me. “You must do whatever it is which is on your card. You specifically signed on to be a part of a no-limits hook-up agency.” She has almost stopped breathing. “I find you a man, you fuck him how you’re told. It may be pleasant, who knows? The process is random. But if you fail, there will be consequences.”

Again, she remains silent.

“If that is all Miss Reed then you may go. I’ll be in touch very soon.” She leaves without hesitation. She’s scared. She’s weaker than I thought. Shame.

Between you and me I already know who she’ll be meeting. I got this cocky, butch prick in earlier called Steven. In case you haven’t guessed yet, the process isn't random at all. It’s all my little game. I’m going to have her pushing needles through his dick. Hopefully, that will knock him down a peg or two, and teach her how to be stronger.

But enough about them, they’re boring. I have my 3 o’clock appointment coming up to meet me. I've already told you what I value above all else: strength. Not beauty. I can appreciate it, but I don’t value it. Madame Wisp, I love that name, is strong.

She is the strongest woman I have ever met. Nothing bends her will, nothing is off limits. She’s the only person, let alone woman, on this planet who can break me.

I gladly kneel at her feet.

I’ll continue typing this another time, I hear her footsteps approaching my door. If I survive, then, reader, I’ll share with you the magnificence that is an afternoon with Madame Wisp. I’m not joking either, I have to survive first.

I’m ready.

[Kisune Karnon]

I like where this is going. A devious match making service with the matchmaker being a servant to one woman. Quite a fun read. Well detailed and pulls the reader in quite nicely. If there is more, I can't wait.