Zoya Mie

Suddenly the door burst open, a tall slender woman dressed in a black leather catsuit and high stiletto heels entered. Raking her long black hair away from her face with slender fingers she looked around the room at the others with haunting deep blue almond shaped eyes.

“Oh, good lord!” Her disdain for the gathered group was evident as she glared at everyone in turn. Looking at the clock on the wall that showed eleven in the morning, she shrugged her shoulders. “Only an hour late. They really shouldn't hold group sessions so ungodly early.”

Walking around the room she inspected each person in turn as she purposefully removed a long glove from each hand. “I really don’t have time for this but the judge said I had to show up or face the consequences. I assume you have all said your little ‘hello my name is...’ So I don’t have to sit through all that. Don’t get up and repeat yourselves, I don’t care. I’ll make this brief and be on my way.”

“Zoya Mie is the name on my drivers licence. That's Mistress Zoya to you. I'm a professional Dominatrix and party pal to the pretty people in Hollywood. If I wasn’t under court order to be here and talk about myself... I wouldn’t.” Walking around the room Zoya tapped her hand with her gloves as she inspected the less than impressive surrounding. Flicking a finger at unseen dust on a silk flower arrangement before moving on.

“I was born in the boring backwater town of Boise, Idaho in 1975. I left home at 16 and was married to my first husband by 18. Both my father and first husband  beat me. That chapter of my life ended when Joe my first husband, filed for divorce from his hospital bed. After I showed him what his precious golf clubs were really good for.” Zoya’s eyes sparkled as she laughed at the memory.

“Ronnie, my second husband was a good enough man, I suppose as far as men go. He was special...” A gentle smile softened her stern look momentarily. “But he had ahh... particular, shall we call them needs. In ‘95 we moved to California and bought a house in Santa Rosa. He died in a car crash two years later, poor Ronnie.”

“Husband number three was Gerald, he was an erotic movie producer and I starred in a few. That ended when I caught him screening new talent in the pool house. He got away but his Lexus didn’t! I still have it parked in my garage to remind myself why I don’t need a husband.”

“Contacts from the erotic movie scene got me into my current business. Which brings us up to the present and the end of my spiel.” Walking over to Pastor Jim, Zoya pulled a business card from the low neckline of her catsuit and flipped it at him. “You look like a bad boy.” On her way towards the open door she cracked her gloves in her hand near Gesten making him jump. She broke into a hearty laugh that could be heard by the others as she walked down the hallway and left the building.

The End

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