Part 1

“I want you to dominate me.”

“Uwaaaaah! This isn’t even treatment anymore!!”

I thumped my forehead onto the desk, making a very loud banging sound.

The table was thumped again and again and again.

The pen holder and all the other stationary almost fell over.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. …My head hurts a little bit.

“Excuse me, is there something wrong?”

The well-natured man stood up and lifted my chin with his fingers and said in a very cool voice.

He had a cute face too.

A normal woman’s heart would start beating.

But hearing what he first said just turned me off.

“Yes, you’re the problem! I’m the Goddess of Doctors, what’re you doing here you M?! What’s with this ‘I want you to dominate me’ trash? How is that treatment or some sort of consultation? At least say something like: ‘I want you to treat me by dominating me’ or something close to that, though I still wouldn’t accept it!!”

Go die in a hell fire, asshole!

[M = Mashochist]

I smashed my fist onto the table before knocking my index finger onto the table making very distinctive tapping noises.

My face felt very hot and I was tempted to throw this M out of my office right away.

Unfortunately, the contract forbids me from doing that.

“…This was the domination I was waiting for, thank you very much, little kid goddess.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

At this point, there was a numerical advantage over how many times my forehead had thumped the table compared to the number of steps I’ve taken in this room.

After doing this for a while I stood up and circled my table, standing face to face in front of the sitting man.

I was short, so even though he was sitting down we were looking at eye level.

I then pinched his cheeks.

“Ow, stop making me feel so good.”

“Alright! First off, I’m not a little kid! I’m about 300 years older than the puny two and a half decades you’ve lived. I have you know that I was a real doctor in the Human World for 200 years, spending over a decade of that studying in this stupid ‘Harvard’ university. I have over 20 confirmed kills of perverts who tried to do weird things to me during my occupation in the Human World and lived with the experience of stupid plagues, massacres and genocides. Before that, I spent 100 years acting as a guide for heroes to fight against the Demon Lord in these other worlds. Don’t you dare look down on me just because I lack the average boing boings for goddesses of my age!!”

As I shouted this, I was aggressively shaking the shoulders of the pervert man in front of me.

“B-But I didn’t say anything about your flat chest.”

As he was being violently shook, he managed to let out those words.

“Shut up!”

I punched the idiot in the face out of pure irritation.

“…Please… Stop, this treatment is too good for someone like me!”

“Uwah!”

I let go of the man, allowing him to fall to the ground from his seat.

By the way, the contract didn’t say anything about violence towards those perverts.

He just moaned in pleasure.

Uwah, creepy dickhead.

“…That was the best, it looks like my female friend was correct after all. It was totally right to come to this place, I’ll tell everyone else about it.”

Hearing this subtle comment, I swiftly stomped towards the prone masochistic man and grabbed his collar.

“…Female friend? Which one do you mean? And don’t tell anyone else about this place. Understood, trash?”

My eyes were glaring down at him.

Is it her fault that she’s here?

Wait, let’s think about this for a moment.

A degenerate customer comes in, gets what they want, tells everyone.

One of those people who hear of it, who is also degenerate, comes in, gets what they want, tells everyone.

…

…Ah, so that’s how it is.

So degenerates come here because other degenerates tell them about it.

What’s this? Do birds of a feather flock together?

“It was that woman who was my childhood friend, the one who came here earlier asking to lose weight… Ha~ah, this rough treatment isn’t so bad. Please call me trash again.”

Hearing the answer and comparing it with my analysis from earlier, I let go of his collar.

“…You’ve solved your problem, now get out. If that wasn’t enough for you, then walk to the left from here passing those two buildings, turn right and head straight towards the fountain, pass through the park and you'll see the roundabout, you’ll find a building with a belt on its door. That’s where the Goddess of Femdom lives. Now seriously get out.”

“Yes, mistress flat-chest. Thank you very much! I’ll repay this debt by being your loyal dog!”

The man quickly sat in a kneeling position and faced me with a sweet smile on his face.

“Get outta here you stupid idiot!”

“Yes!”

Such a hot face and kind personality wasted on trash like him.

How sad.

After the man left, I shut down my services again and decided to leave the office building.

Part 2

I decided to go to the bar today.

“Excuse me young miss…- Kid, do you want water?”

“Are you making fun of me? You know I’m the Goddess of Doctors!”

I shouted at the bartender, swinging my small arms towards him, trying my best to wipe the grin off his face.

Of course, my arms were far too short for that type of attack.

After a second or two, I took a deep breath, calming myself down before muttering:

“-…Orange juice please.”

“Yes, Goddess of Doctors, your highness. Though you gave up faster than I thought.”

“Stop making fun of me!”

This time I jumped from my seat and stood on the narrow bar table, putting the cheeky bartender into a headlock.

Of course, my stature was far too weak to do anything to him as the bartender began to walk.

“Do you want some ice?”

At this point, I was just hanging from the neck of the bartender, my arms locked in place around his neck.

My legs were free and swaying with the bartender’s motions.

It looked like a child being carried by an adult.

“…Yes please.”

With that said, the bartender dropped some ice into a cup before pouring some orange juice.

Of course, after freshly squeezing it.

I wouldn’t accept any orange juice that wasn't freshly squeezed. Never.

After preparing the cup, the bartender offered me a seat behind the bar table, a somewhat special place.

Sitting down, I saw the perspective of bartenders when working.

It looked pretty weird.

Though my mind trailed off that thought process as the cup of orange juice was placed in front of me.

With a sweet smile, the bartender looked at me:

“Enjoy, specially made orange juice for a tiny child.”

I’ll kill you.

By the way, I haven’t introduced you to the bartender yet.

His name was Les.

We were classmates back in Biblet University from about 280 years ago.

He was half-angel half-human, so he aged faster than me.

He looked like your neighbourhood nice guy, with black hair and olive skin. He wore some cool-looking bartender clothing and was tall in stature, his face was freshly shaven. In human terms, he’d look around 20 years old.

And around human terms for me… I’d be at 10.

This is unfair.

Even though I used to make fun of him all the time during school, he has now outgrown me.

He was also the type to grow facial hair really really fast.

He once complained to me about having to shave almost every day.

There was also the time where I pointed it out during the morning at school, for him to say that he shaved it last night.

I don't remember but he was frustrated when I pointed it out.

Very pitiful.

Apparently, that’s not much of a problem for angels.

But for humans, it was.

Take that, stupid half-human! That’s what you get for growing faster than me!

Not so high and mighty anymore, eh?

…I’m still sad though.

By the way, he knows about my problems.

So the following words were understandable:

“So, any good clients? Were they all trash as usual?”

“Nope, and yes.”

I answered instantaneously and gulped some orange juice.

Les's face contorted as he watched me.

“…Look, even if you are frustrated, you can’t just gulp orange juice like that. It won’t taste just as good. You have to savour the taste and feel each-”

“I don’t want to hear your opinion.”

I slouched my back and rested my forehead on the cold-hard table.

“Well, my apologies. Little brat.”

“Alright, you looking for a fight? Let’s go, outside, behind the alleyway.”

A stood up and went into a boxing position, bumping my fists together and jumping on my toes.

“No can do, I have work. I’ll let you stay here behind the counter for a while though, bye-bye.”

Les raised his hand in surrender and walked off towards other expecting customers.

He had just recently begun to work in the bar industry, about 10 years ago.

He told me that his aim was to gain experience as a bartender here and then open up his own bar. If that wasn’t enough, he was ambitious enough to aim towards being a CEO of a huge bar company.

May I wish him success.

With that said, out of spite and pettiness, I gulped the orange juice again.

“Uuur…”

Not following his advice out of spite made me feel like crying.

I couldn’t taste it at all.

Oh well.

I stood up and left the counter, as I punched Les from his back I swiftly ran towards the exit, making my haste escape with a satisfactory and mischievous grin on my face.

Les looked angry though, so I won't come here in about two days.

--

I sat back into my office, reopening my business so potential clients could come in.

“That relieved my frustration just a tiny bit.”

After signing off on a few documents, I sat listlessly, twirling around my chair and waiting for the door to open.

Let’s begin working again.