Suddenly, after all the evening, we were alone in the hotel room. You were still in your 'half-way there' appearance: tight jeans, t-shirt and bomber jacket, black and silver trainers. A little less and you were a dreamy young man with blonde hair down to his shoulders. A little more, and you became a woman, a little on the shy side in public, perhaps. I put down my overnight case which I had rescued from the reception desk, and there was an awkward silence.
"Excuse me" you said quietly but in a determined voice, and picking up your bag, rushed into the bathroom. I poured myself a small vodka and tonic, and sat down in the only armchair, savouring the moment. Seedy as hotels go, but better than the flea-pit we'd met in the first time. I heard taps running, water gurgling, and then for a while there was a quiet. Then suddenly the bathroom door opened again and there you were, gorgeous as anything, deep purple, packaged to steal.
The skirt of your dress was short, well above the knee, and you had on those glossy silk stockings, the tops of which peeped out just below the hem line. You'd be terrific when you bent over, I remember thinking. The dress gathered at the waist, and then V necked and flounced round the shoulders. I could just see part of your bra in the corner of the V. Somehow you always managed to make your little boy titties look incredibly desirable. All ambiguity was gone. I felt my erection swelling.
"Is the makeup all right?" you asked, anxiously. I motioned you forward into the light and you pirouetted for my inspection. You were getting better each time. Every female feature of your face had been accentuated, bringing out your feminine essence.
"You'll pass" I told you and invited you to sit between my legs on the floor. You took a pillow from the bed, and tucked yourself against my thigh, looking up at me.
"Do.."
"Shhh" I said. "Let's just sit quietly for a while to still our beating hearts." You grinned and became solemn again. My hand rested on your shoulder and I felt the warmth of your body under the silk, the strap line of your brassiere.
"I was wondering" I began., "will you be my slave girl, just for tonight?"
"Oh yes..." you breathed. "So I get the job?"
"No other applicants worth the interview" I nodded solemnly at her.
"We on a formal basis now?"
"If you like. Remember you call me 'my Master'. When a slave girl says 'Yes, Master' without the 'my' between it always reminds me of Marty Feldman in 'Young Frankenstein.'"
"Not appropriate for a young thing about to have horrid things done to her."
"Not at all."
We lapsed into silence again. I knew that you were already aroused and slightly apprehensive, and I was certainly beginning to show signs of arousal, but I let the moment drift on for longer while I slowly finished off my drink. I caught myself thinking, you lucky dog. Imagine having that gorgeous package at your beck and call, even if we were both married to a rather nosey women and had to watch our step. I caught you looking up at me. Oh my, we could have stayed like that for hours feeding off the magic, but there were things both of wanted desperately to experience.
"Stand up there, in the middle of the room, so I can take a good look at you."
"Yes, my Master." I managed to give you a tap on the bottom as you rose.
"Too much talking can become painful in the long run."
You looked at me in mock surprise.
"Stand still, chin up, arms at sides..." I rose leisurely from my chair and walked around you, inspecting your body. "Good shape, for someone who's been in the galleys for all these years." Some women would envy your slender hips.
"They fed us very little, sir, and we had to do all sorts of nasty things every day. Sir..."
I gently undid your dress at the back and slowly took it down. Men take dresses down, women take them up, over their heads. It makes more sense for a Master to disrobe his slave down. Delicious underwear... you stepped out of your dress and I took you by the upper arm, leading you to the bed. I sat down and deftly arranged you over my lap, your elegantly stockinged legs out, arm held tightly in my gasp.
"At least a dozen over your knickers and then we can take them down for more. When I'm finished with the first set, you are to kneel in front of me and thank me, and ask me for more. Understood?"
You nodded.
"You may moan and wriggle as much as you like, in fact, I would consider it a compliment if you were to moan and wriggle, but you must on no account try to protect yourself or try to get free, you understand?"
"Yes, my Master" you whispered.
You knew that you had captured my heart from the very first blow I gave you on your delicious bottom. The most important thing when you're spanking a subbie is to take your time. Let both of you enjoy and appreciate the music and the harmonics, and the press of each other's cocks against bodies. I spanked you slowly at first, hearing you breathing loudly and feeling you shake slightly after each blow. The last two I gave in quick succession, and you did utter a low "Ow!" that sent a shiver of delight up my spine.
It pleased me as much that I had actually managed to hurt you as that you were not play-acting, that our interplay, whatever else it was, had an element of truth in it. You knelt at my feet.
"Thank you, my Master" you said, gravely, bowing your head. I raised your head by the chin.
"Would you like me to hurt you more?" I asked.
"More... yes, please, my Master. Yes, I'd be honoured if you would beat me more. Please beat me."
"On your bare bottom this time, and I think with my belt. It makes a better impression."
You shivered a little. "Yes, I'd appreciate that, my Master" you replied.
"You'll be able to hide a bruised bum?"
"Please don't let that inhibit you, my Master."
"Sweet..."
I had you standing against the wall, leaning on it with your hands, bottom bent out, back slightly arched to give a better view. Your waist was defined but not exuberantly so; like of a woman who has carried children. I slipped down your silk panties to your knees so the cheeks of your bottom were showing, slightly rosy red from my hand paddling, and stepped back.
"This is serious shit" I told you. "Better count out each one and say 'thank you' after it."
Silence from you. I swung the belt in the air and it landed fairly on your bottom. There was a loud 'smack!', you gave a little shriek and rubbed your stockinged legs together, which made your bottom jiggle nicely. High heels are an excellent thing on a woman, especially when she's rubbing her legs together after a paddling. Your legs are long, firmly muscled, but graceful, I could never look at thin girls' legs again after touching yours. There was a silence.
"Well?" I said at last.
"Oh. I beg your pardon, my Master. One. Thank you, my Master."
I hit you again and you responded. First involuntarily with a cry that seemed to come from deep inside, and then by thanking me. The sound of the leather belt was loud against your flesh, and the marks of the belt were rapidly colouring your bottom a much deeper red than they had been before.
At five, I noticed you were coming up to your limit. You were almost ready to move your hands from the wall, to do goodness knows what else with them, so I stopped beating you and stroked your flaming bottom a while. It was hot, you remember that? You calmed down after a while.
"Thank you, my Master" you said more quietly.
"I think one last one, and then you'd better see about my erection for a while..."
"Yes, my Master."
"This will be very hard. I've been soft on you up to now. I think the next time, when I do it for real, I'm going to have to tie you up."
"That would be a kindness, Master."
"When I've hit you this time, I want you to turn round immediately and to hug me until the pain subsides."
"Yes, my..."
I dealt a swinging blow at that precise moment.
"...Master! Ow! Six!"
It was as far as I dared go those days. You had entrusted your self to me, and I knew that your trust had to be repaid by me taking care of you so that nothing physical would be harmed, nothing would be damaged, and that you would be able to pass yourself off unscathed in the eyes of your wife. Such intimacy as you shared with her, at least. Her raw emotional cess-pit was sucking you in, but physically, the pair of you were separate already.
You hugged me hard and kissed me, and I responded, pressing you to me. I could feel the shiver in your body relax and hear your breathing in and out. You cried a little on my shoulder and I stroked your hair, your neck, your back. Your bra strap came undone quickly in my fingers.
"Come on love, let me make love to my precious princess."
"Yes, my Master, thank you!"
You were now dressed simply in your stockings and heels. I led you to the bed and gestured you to lie flat on your tummy. I stroked your back and spread out your arms on either side. My fingers travelled down your back over your warm bottom, down the length of your leg, feeling the sheer silk with light fingertips. I held an ankle, and you responded by a slight twist, to which I gave an answering squeeze. Now to open your legs out, first one and then crossing the bed to the other side. There was that slight view of your delicate little equipment between your thighs. You raised your bottom carefully when I had you spread out on the bed. You knew I would push against the bruises as I fucked you and that would make you groan and squeal but I loved to hear that, and I know you loved the feel of my gristle in your bum, even though wrapped in a condom. I wrapped my arms around you and held your chest as my weight settled on you, moving myself slowly inside you. Your assbud accepted my rubber-clad cock and I felt myself sliding in through that perfect entrance. Your sex. You joined in and moved your ass around so that all the time I was experiencing something slightly new, another angle into you. You caught the rhythm of my breathing and joined in. I knew you weren't really sharing the orgasm I was moving into but the knowledge that you were faking it especially for me egged me on, harder and faster until there came a moment when our voices joined in the peak of the long crescendo and I felt my cock spurting cum into you.
"Love you, DeeDee!"
"Yuri!"
"Love you!"
"Oh god, a thousand years, my Master!"
My cock spurted cum into you it seemed as if forever. Lying flat over you, squashing you down beneath my weight, I was able to kiss the side of your neck and behind your ear. You gasped in real surprise.
We were so careful with each other in those days. It was like experiencing the thrill of being in love for the first time, all over again. We both knew that below this careful external regard for each other we were actually hewing and shaping our minds to accommodate each other's personae at the same time as we were creating these same personae in ourselves. Our bodies were also adapting. We knew better how to move together in the act of love; what advanced and what retarded our coming, what was unique about it. The psychology of it, not at all obvious to the eye at the time, much more radical and lasting than any welts raised on your delicious skin or those treacherous little scratches and rips in intimate parts of your body that you allowed me to make.
Holding the condom at the top, I slipped myself out of you and pulled it off my cock. A healthy wad of cum, looking slightly sad gathered up in that little bag. Perhaps one day? We arranged ourselves side by side, looking at each other, stroking each others' bodies, murmuring silly nonsense to each other.
I had you three times that night all together. The second time I was rough: you finally got into your submissive state and stopped trying to defend yourself against my hands. I came inside you, pushing hard against you and swearing obscene words; you cried into the pillow. For the last time you had to use your lips to raise my cock to a usable state and you squatted over me, your little stalk half risen between us. I watched you play with it, bringing yourself to a carefully controlled climax so that as I felt myself ejaculate inside you, your cum spattered on my stomach. It was early morning when we finally slipped off into sleep, legs twined round each other, your head cradled on my arm.
+++
"Please don't open your eyes my Master." The feel of your soft lips over mine. "I hate looking like this in front of you. Just think that the lady has left for what ladies have to do." A slight chuckle, deep in your chest. "Thank you for the night together, my Master."
The day began later for me; there was an indefinable absence of you in the room. I was a little late for work, but you were always very precise about your work times, and I imagined you at your desk and computer, no longer female, no longer even ambiguous.
And then we went back to our homes that evening. You to your hating wife, me to the woman with whom I lived on a permanent basis. At least we had the day to ourselves so that we could untangle our imaginations from the way they had become snarled up in each other.
What we had between us, you and I, was bringing us closer together and separating us further from those women, the pair of them: unnecessary, unloved. We were essential, beloved.