Sam came to a famous city of sin as a teenager. She started as a chorus-line girl, and quickly was elevated to a Feature Dancer. The money was good, but she craved more. Soon she evolved into a prestigious Exclusive Dancer. She bought a condo and a Corvette.
She took on a specialty service and within a year was the city’s Premier Domme. Wealthy clientele and unlimited fees made her quite rich. She invested a majority of her money into becoming a casino partner. Windfall profits allowed her to buy out others until she was sole owner. Now, she was on a roll. A purchase of a second facility led to a third, and later, a fourth. Within five years of her modest arrival, Sam, with a name change, had become Samantha Supreme, "Casino Empress." A posh residence, a private limo, Italian sports cars, and a lavish wardrobe inevitably followed. There was no doubt she had arrived. Ms. Supreme was a decidedly gorgeous and considerably powerful boss-lady.
Tim, on the other hand, was born in the city and grew up to be a full-time gigolo (thus his cutsie nickname “Tiny”) and a part-time heavy gambler. Occasionally he got lucky, but not often enough. His losses became astronomical. His servicing fees couldn’t touch them. He owed everyone a whole lot of dough. He was, rightfully, frightened. He thought he might be doomed.
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The call came. The one that Tiny had dreaded for weeks. It surprised him that it came from the syndication he was the very least indebted to. It was The Casino Empress, probably one of the three wealthiest in the city. Known for its beautiful president who reportedly runs a very ‘tight ship’ operation. She reportedly demands loyalty, punishes infidelity, and is respected by many and feared by some in the industry. Nonetheless, it was a distinct order to appear, and one that he was certain he could not avoid.
That very afternoon, a ubiquitous black town car arrives and transports him to a castle-like mansion in the hills. A cute babe in white spandex meets Tiny and escorts him through the back entry. Along the way he sees several servants toiling in the hot sun and others in a steamy kitchen. They come to a sets of circular stairs and he watches her tight ass sway tantalizingly upward and into a huge room. It’s a private art gallery with numerous, quite erotic pieces lining the walls. The escort motions Tiny forward.
As he meanders along, his gaze falls on a raised dais in the center of the space. She, "The Empress", is seated there. This beguiling sight causes him to stumble as if drunk. Fortunately, he's held up by the hands of the escort who whispers in his ear, “Stand here. Do not move,” and with that, she vanishes.
Tiny is scared shitless at the exquisite vision above him. He senselessly blurts, “I don’t have a very big debt with you, ah, Em, Empress.”
“Silence, little man,” She snarls.
A sudden hush falls over the stately room.
Tiny cannot help but stare at the most overwhelmingly gorgeous creature he’s ever seen before. Obviously extremely tall, even when seated, this blonde goddess is sheathed in supple white leather and sumptuous white fur. Her platinum mane flows to either side of a breathtakingly glamorous face and cascades over a massive pair of breasts. Diamond-laden silver jewelry sparkles everywhere. Long legs are crossed and a shimmering transparent acrylic boot dangles deliciously, its stiletto heel a thin, soaring shaft of sterling.
She places an elbow on the arm of Her throne chair and flexes Her fingers. The long, sharp talon-like nails give Tiny the shivers as if She wanted to tear into his flesh with them.
“You will speak when spoken to, Not before,” the blonde knockout growls. “If your miniscule brain understands, then nod.”
Meekly, he does.
“I am Samantha Supreme. I rule much of this city.”
With every breath She takes, Her enormous tits heave up and down mouthwateringly under the thin mesh material clinging to them.
“I have acquired your entire contract,” She states with a matter-of-fact air.
Tiny groans, realizing he will need to answer to this bewitching she-devil, and only Her. He can’t play one debt against another as he had hoped.
“In essence,” Ms. Samantha smiles mischievously, pointing the toe of a boot directly at his groin, “I OWN you.”
Just as that statement is scrambling Tiny’s mind, another girl comes gliding in from somewhere. He hardly notices her bow, and kneel at the side of the throne chair.
“You have a relatively large gambling problem, Mr. Tiny. Which means you now have a massive Ms. Supreme problem,” the sultry siren emphatically states. She continues, “I will fix this issue at your physical and emotional expense.”
Their eyes meet and Tiny mentally cowers under the heat of Her gaze and Her words.
“I am ruthless in extracting money owed to Me,” Ms. Samantha exclaims, “I am heatless to reasons, which I consider are all excuses.” Tiny is feeling more entrapped by the second.
