Date: Thu, 19 Dec 2019 05:41:46 +0000 From: Onatangent Subject: Matchmaker, Matchmaker Matchmaker, Matchmaker (Gay/authoritarian. This one's a quickie) I can't help but notice the middle-aged and attentive man waiting at the side of my cafe table, and look up from my laptop. "Excuse me, Sir, I'm so sorry to bother you, but would you like oral sex?" I blink twice as the man looks at me with a face half-crossed with earnesty and worry. "Um, no, thank you, I'm good." He nods and trots back off to a table in the corner. I watch him head up to a dark-haired and large man nursing a coffee who appears to have been watching him as he did it. They chat briefly before the large man points out another table, and the one who had offered to, I think, blow me, headed off in that direction. I look at the large man who appears to have been directing him and we lock eyes. He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee. He sees me. I try to shake it off and head back to my work but this is far too strange to ignore. I look back over. The large man is still there, watching his charge. I put my laptop back in my bag and head over. "What was that, some sort of weak prank show?" He look up at me and smiles. "Oh, no, no, I'm sorry about him. Kind of awkward isn't it? But no, he's just not very well trained yet. Just a beginner. I do apologize. Here, my apologies." He hands me a hundred dollar bill. I blink at it and look back up at him. That asks way more questions than it answers. "He's... he's not well trained yet? What does that even mean?" He takes another drink and motions me to sit. I do. "I'm a trainer and matchmaker," he says. "That guy over there? I'm training him to be prepared for the kind of match he's looking for. You know, so when I put them together there's no friction." "They still have matchmakers?" "Well, no, not really. Most people manage to find a match themselves without any help from a matchmaker. Dating sites, you know. But there are still some people with interests so niche that they need some help." "Niche interests like oral sex with random strangers?" "Not exactly. You see, that man you talked to is in training. He wants to be matched with someone who will control his life, dominate him. But he's not ready for that yet. So I'm training him, getting rid of any shame or dignity he has so that when I introduce him to his new master, he'll be ready." I stare at him slackjawed as he casually takes another sip of his coffee. "So he... he came to you because he's a... a kinkster?" He laughs. "No, he came to me because he thought it would be fun to be a kinkster. You saw him. Not a natural bone in his body. Just a porn hound who thought it would be a good idea. But I'm good at my job, I'm getting him ready anyway. He's just a tourist but I'm going to make sure he goes as native as he's capable of." "So then... why him? He pays you?" The large man nods. "Me and some rather large donations. That kind of guy? That's my charity work. I don't let them take any possessions into their match. And him in particular? Well, if you've bought a mattress in this state you've bought it from him. Worth millions. I'm buying a bigger house off that guy, and on top of that a few million is going to the hospital." "He's just giving that all up?" I have to watch myself not to yell. I look over at the guy who has just gotten a drink thrown in his face and is obediently shuffling to the next table. "Oh yeah, begged for it. Takes all types. Really wants it even though he doesn't really go that deep. But that's fine. I have a few clients on the other side who say they want a slave, but really just want a piece of arm candy to spank in bed and then the two of them titter over the kinkiness of it all. The one I have in mind is mostly straight, and rich, too, so the guy I'm training will end up a sissy with big tits, and there'll be an extra donation to the parks preservation service. On top of my new car." "Does he WANT to be a sissy?" He finishes his coffee and shakes his head "It's not one of his fantasies, but by the time I'm done with him he'll have the fantasies I want him to have. And don't think I didn't notice that you know what a sissy is." I blush. He smirks "It's not like you've given anything away. I know them as soon as I see them. I've been advertising my services since you came over here, showing you what I can do." I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Like, this is weird, I get it, but advertising?" He chuckles and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small slip of paper and sliding it over. I look at it. It reads "What do you mean? Like, this is weird, I get it, but advertising?" I blink twice and look at him. He leans forward "See, if I tell you up front that I'm hypnotizing you, it's not so impressive that I've been laying triggers the whole time." He snaps his fingers and I jolt up ramrod straight in my chair and shudder as my cock tenses and I shoot several jets of cum into my underwear. I immediately blush deeply and cross my legs. I stammer, trying to say something. He slides several napkins across the table to me and stands, pushing his chair under the table. On top of the stack of napkins is a business card. "I've got a client who is looking for a clearly interested newbie like you. A real client. Someone who knows how to own a man." He smiles "so if you're tired of working on your laptop, you give me a call. I can guarantee you that after a few months of training I'll lead you into a life of depravity and servitude that I guarantee you are not yet capable of imagining. No longer a person but a sex toy. And all it will cost you is your independence and everything you own." The older man who had offered to suck my cock returns to the table, a droplet of cum on his lip from god knows where. The large man in front of me grabs him by the shirt collar and begins to lead him off. "Think about it," he says as he walks off. I am still breathing hard, feeling the cooling cum in my shorts and realizing that I've got to get out of there if I don't want a stain showing soon. I stand up and grab my bag. I take two steps off when I stop, turn back to the table, and reach for the business card, which I slip into my back pocket. I run home, replaying what had just happened in my mind over and over. When I finally make it inside, I can't even be bothered to clean myself up right away. I take out the card and stare. Wondering, considering, needing.