To tell the truth, I was looking quite fine. I'm even blushing while I relate this story to you. It all happened just last Saturday night at the Do Me Baby nightclub. It was just before midnight when I arrived. My wide brim hat cast a level of mystery over my identity. A nude chiffon scarf flowed effortlessly off my shoulder in the light breeze, as I walked. My transparent silk blouse was perhaps shocking to some observers, while others clearly drank in the vision of my lean tan body. The curve of my perfect ass was accentuated by black spandex pants that dove down my shapely legs. My outfit was set-off by thigh-high suede boots, that were highlighted by six-inch steel stiletto heels and metal tipped pointed toes. Oh yes, I was hot; even a hot mess, and worse yet, I knew it, as I shook my booty walking into the club.

Every head turned to follow me and I was loving the attention. I took a seat at the end of the bar. I thought things couldn't get any better until I caught sight of Henry, my ex. He was sitting at the other end of the bar looking at me with his mouth wide open. I pretended not to notice him. He came over anyway and sat next to me. He quickly offered to buy me my favorite drink, which I promptly declined, and then I turned my back to him.

"What's wrong? I'm not good enough to buy you a drink."
The bartender brought the drink and placed it in front of me. I picked up the glass, then casually turned towards Henry.  Looking directly into his eyes, I pressed my stiletto heel into his crotch and tossed the drink in his face.  He was stunned and speechless. 

"That's right Henry, you can't buy me a drink because you're an unsophisticated moron and cruel jerk who's unable to accept responsibility, and you don't know how to take care of your man."

"But Tony, please. Please give me a chance. It's been a year since our break-up. I've changed. I've matured. I'm a better man."

"No Henry. Perhaps you've become a much better liar. However, the overwhelming word on the street is that you're the same sick fool as always. In fact, as I understand it, you probably can't even get a date in this town, much less get your little "winkie" played with by anyone. Now get far away from me and never invade my personal space or attempt to speak to me again."

With tears running down cheeks from both eyes, Henry turned away and walked out of the bar. In the background there arose a crescendo of applause and cheers from friends, and others who knew his reputation. I jumped off the barstool. Facing my new fans, I did a perfect pirouette followed by a curtsy.

Clearly, this man won't be anyone's relationship bitch ever again; even if I really do love being submissive.