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My Fairytale

By: fgmntfmgnshn



As always:

Thanks to rf-fast for the editing work. Your insights are what prevents this story from being mindless drivel. Thanks! 

*****

I grew up on fairytales. Prince Charming saves the Princess. The knight in shining armor heroically helps the damsel in distress. The beast and the beauty come together when no one thought it was possible. Every book or movie I watched growing up had something to do with fairytales. From a young age, all I wanted to be was a princess. I wanted my knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet because he fell hopelessly in love with me at first sight, and afterwards, we would live happily ever after. The problem with fairytales is they never actually explain what happily ever after is...

Sex. By the time my first semester of college was over, I realized I could care less about it. I had three partners in my life and all of them left me unimpressed with the act. I found it wasn't like any movie I had seen. In romance movies, the guy and girl get together and they share this mind-blowing experience and their souls seem to unite. Even in porn, when you know it's just a wham, bam, thank you ma'am scenario, the women seem to be crying out in sheer bliss. Like all of entertainment, I came to the conclusion that sex was a lie. It was something that Hollywood (or wherever porn is shot) makes up to sell-sell-sell their product, preying on the minds of us dreamers saying, "See the great sexual life you could be having?" Ugh!

My first experience was with my boyfriend in High School. I came from a small town farming community where everyone knew everyone by name. Nate was a real sweet guy and I thought we were destined to be together forever. We weren't a prince and princess, but we did come in third for prom king and queen. That would have been magical, Queen Andrea Lockhart. At the end of our senior year, I knew it wasn't going to last. We saw our lives going in two different directions. I wanted to leave the small town lifestyle and he wanted to take over his family farm. When I got accepted to State University in the big city of Hilldale, I knew it was over. I decided to give the nicest guy I knew my virginity. I knew I was using him as I didn't want to go to college a virgin but Nate wasn't complaining. Actually, he was excited. So with two days before I left, we did the deed.

It was nothing like I expected. Nate pushed in and it felt like I was being split in half. It hurt like hell. Where was this in the movies? The pain NEVER stopped. It was so bad, I was crying. If Nate would have seen it, I'm sure he would have stopped but his eyes remained clenched shut. Fifteen minutes later, Nate started shaking on top of me. Thank goodness that was over, that pain was intense. He rolled off to the side of me and thanked me repeatedly. I told you he was happy. But what about me? Am I a woman now? Where was the soul connection or at the very least my sheer bliss? The only thing I felt was soreness.

I went to my first frat party during my first week on campus. School was beginning in a couple days and I wanted to experience a college party before I had to put all my effort into my studies. I was hanging around and the scene was much different from any party I had attended while in High School. Parties back home had at most twenty people there and we would play games, listen to music, or if we were at Marge Stanton's home, we swam. Here, there were people everywhere, the alcohol flowed, the music loud, and sexual activity abound, from kissing to touching to flashing to - was that girl sucking that guys penis? It was an eye opening experience to say the least. That's when I met Lance.

Lance was entering his junior year and I was at his frat house, the Phi Delta Omega's. He didn't slay a dragon as his name might suggest but he was cute. I guess you can say we dated for about a week. We hung out in between classes and every evening. He even took me out once; dinner and a movie. Being that he was a philosophy major, you would think he would be a good conversationalist, but all he talked about was sex. Whenever together, he would constantly be grabbing at me. I guess it was supposed to be a compliment. Finally, I caved. Maybe the sex I had experienced was only bad because it was my first time? We were under the covers in his bed and I let him take off my clothes. He gave me the most wicked smile as he climbed on top of me. 

He barreled into me and kept proclaiming, "Can you feel that?"

I didn't know if I was supposed to answer him or not, but after the fifth time, I did. "Not really." It was the truth. He was inside me and I barely felt anything. I didn't even feel pain. Sex was becoming very confusing.

Lance stopped mid stroke. "What was that?"

"Oh, it was rhetorical? It's just that you kept asking."

This upset him to no end. He stood up and started getting dressed. I was surprised when I caught a glimpse of his penis. It was only the second one I have ever seen but the two couldn't have been any more different. Nate looked like they did in the porno movies, perhaps bigger and definitely thicker. Lance was - what's a good comparison? - A sewing needle? 

Lance kicked me out. His final words were "If I knew you weren't a virgin, I never would have went out with you."

The words stung, but not so much as what happened next. The following day, I was inundated with stares and whispers. I was Ms. Popular and had no idea why. Well, as it turns out, I am now the school whore. Lance informed everyone that not only did we have sex, but I also used him just to add another notch to my belt, whatever that meant. He told everyone that my goal at college was to be fucked by every guy there, students and faculty. Girls hated me and the guys approached me in troves. All for the wrong reasons. Worst of all, I still have no idea what I said to Lance to make him so angry. I came close to packing up my things and heading home. It was obvious that I was out of my element. 

Charlie Anderson was in my freshman biology course. He was better than average looking, but was immensely shy. He rarely talked to anyone, and that was only if they spoke to him first. My fellow students resented him due to him smashing the curve on everything assigned. I felt bad for instigating our relationship, but I was frustrated, stressed, and I was ready to snap. I wasn't asking him to defeat an evil witch, I just wanted him to be my shield.

First, I simply asked if he could help me study. After some time, I asked him to go on a date. Then a second one. He was so shy, he could still barely talk to me, but his actions when we were together made me feel like a normal girl again. He was a perfect gentleman, always considerate, and didn't grope me once. He was really polite. The problem was that we had nothing in common. We both knew it. Then one night while we were in my dorm room, we had the most honest conversation. Ever.

"Why are you with me?"

"Uh," Charlie stammered.

"Please Charlie, you aren't going to hurt my feelings." I put my hand over his.

Charlie's head shied down, "Because you're a girl and I'm tired of everyone accusing me of being gay."

"You never had a girlfriend?"

Charlie shook his head, "I'm sorry. I should probably leave."

"Why would you leave? I'm with you for the same reason."

"You are?" Confusion swept across Charlie's face, "I thought you have been with every guy in town?"

My shoulders fell and I sniffled away the tears. "No, I've been with two people and only one lives in this state."

"Now I get it," Charlie smiled. "For a week I was trying to figure out how to break up with you without hurting your feelings. I mean I still like you as a friend but..."

"Me too." I interrupted. "How about this? We pretend to be dating until one of us finds someone else. We support each other. You get to ask me all the questions you want about girls and I still have my protection from the other students. Deal?"

"Deal."

Once everything was in the open, both of us felt so much better about ourselves. We no longer felt we were using the other for our own purposes, but it was now a mutual understanding. We were still bored when we hung out together, but it was understood. Plus was the added bonus that my grade in biology and his in Algebra soared as math was my best subject.

It was Sunday afternoon and I was going stir crazy. It really does stink to not have any friends, though I still got asked out by a slew of guys, in front of Charlie at times, but instead of being pushy like before, they give up quickly when I say "I have a boyfriend." What's worse is that I'm poor too. Life is boring when you are stuck in your room because you are a broke college student who has to rely on the bus to get around. Maybe Charlie would hang out. We can be bored together.

"Charlie, do you think you can take me to the mall? I really need to pick up some things." And by things, I meant bras. I apparently grew a little since the beginning of the year and needed something that wasn't strangling my body. But saying that would scare off my potential ride.

"Ah, come on, we already went on our 'date' this week. Besides, I'm in the middle of an intense battle. DIE ALREADY!"

By now, I was used to him talking to his games and knew those last two words weren't for me. "Please," I whined. 

Charlie sighed, "Damn it, I died." I then heard the music of the game start back up as he obviously wasn't done. "Not today, all right."

I don't know what made me say it, but after I did, I recognized it didn't bother me. Not in the slightest. I mean Charlie is harmless enough and I could care less about the act itself. "I'll have sex with you." Isn't sex apart about being boyfriend and girlfriend? Even if it is fake? Even if it's just to get a ride to the mall?

The line went dead. Well, that's not exactly true. I heard from Charlie's television the sound signifying he died again before the menu music played. "Charlie? Are you there?"

"Um, yeah. I thought I heard you say something that you couldn't have possibly said."

"I will, Charlie. If you take me to the mall, I'll have sex with you." It still didn't bother me.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Five minutes and twelve seconds later, Charlie pulled up in his rusty blue Escort. We went to the mall and I could tell Charlie was nervous. I couldn't believe what my offer was doing to the poor boy. He followed me and I had to suppress a laugh when he realized what section I was shopping in the department store. He appeared to have seen a ghost. But he remained steadfast because of my promise.

We went back to my dorm room and I rummaged through my roommates top drawer. Somehow, I knew Charlie wouldn't have a condom and I don't have reason to carry any either. 

My coupling with Charlie solidified my feelings toward sex. Charlie was in between Nate and Lance on the size scale, so when he pressed into me, I did feel something that wasn't pain. But that was it. Literally.

"Oh God, Andrea." Charlie's eyes scrunched up, his breathing became heavy, and his body became stiff. 

After a few Moments, I tapped my hand to his back, "Good?" 

"Sorry Andrea."

"For what Charlie? You did good," I smiled. He did better than Lance - I mean at least he got off - and as for me, I'm not in pain, so yeah, it was good.

"It was?"

"Of course," I leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

Charlie rolled off me, "Thank you Andrea." I saw the sincerity in his eyes and it reminded me of Nate. "And I know we are just friends with an odd agreement, so I promise I will never ask or demand this of you. If you want to do it again, we can, but I won't expect it."

"You're a good friend, Charlie." What was the big deal? It was just sex. I smiled, "Let's get dressed."

Then came the favor.

"Come on Charlie," I whined. "Let me drive it."

"No, my Dad will kill me if we take his BMW." 

"Please," I hit him with my sad puppy dog face.

"You have no idea how strict my Father is. I mean, he didn't used to be, but when I was sixteen, he started talking to me weird. Mentioning lifestyles and such. I guess I didn't react the way he'd liked so now he's as strict as can be." Charlie laughed. "We are not going on our date with you driving his car. Stop asking."

"What about if you drive." I really did just want to ride in the car. I have never seen a luxury car before. Heck, where I'm from luxury meant extended cab on the truck.

Charlie took a deep breath, "Fine, get in. But we have to be back before my Mom gets home."

Yes! "Thanks Charlie." I smiled as I opened the passenger door. "For a second I thought I was going to have to offer to have sex with you again."

"What?"

"Too late, get in."

We drove in silence. There were no words shared and there was no music we could agree on. It was a typical date for us. We went to dinner at a cheap diner and then to a popular hangout so we could be seen together by our peers before heading to the dorms to drop me off. We were pulling in when this little Honda Civic carrying a bus load of students came roaring at us. Charlie tried to evade, turning the wheel suddenly, and was successful in dodging the reckless car but not so much the sign indicating there was a speed bump.

It didn't look good. It was better than it would have been if we hit the speeding car, but the sign did enough. The pole broke the passenger side headlight and the sign itself put a huge dent in the hood and left a spider web crack in the windshield.

Charlie was in tears.

I gently rubbed his back, "When does your Father get back from his business trip?"

"Tomorrow."

"What time?"

"Around noon."

"You have class until four, right?"

"Yeah."

"I promise I'll take care of this Charlie. It's my fault that this happened, I shouldn't have pressured you." I gave Charlie a hug. "Will you be able to hide it from your Mom until then?"

"I think so. I mean she never goes in the garage, so I just need to beat her back home before her girl's night ends."

"Then get home and I'll see you tomorrow."

"How are you going to fix it?"

"Trust me Charlie. I can do this."

A simple nod was his response as he turned the ignition. The car no longer roared to life, it was more of a chugging sound and I cringed at the repercussions.

I needed to go underwear shopping. I didn't have sexy clothes; the best I had was a tight blue tank top and a pair of jeans, so that was what I was wearing. But I needed more than that, so I decided to focus on what to wear underneath. I took the bus to the mall and instead of the department stores, I went into the lingerie shop. I needed something that said 'cheat on your wife with me' and 'I'm so fuckable that you don't want to murder your son.' With the help of the sales woman, I bought a black sheer demi cup bra and thong set. I would have bought gloves and stockings to go with it, but this outfit took the rest of my money for the month. How can these cost more than my normal underwear when I'm wearing far less fabric? 

I took the bus to the closest stop to the Anderson home. I walked a quarter of a mile before reaching his front door at 12:10. I knocked and no one answered. Charlie's Father must not be back yet and his Mom was probably at work. I waited on his porch swing, my new thong feeling more like a wedgie. 

A few minutes passed when a taxi pulled into the driveway. It was Mr. Anderson. He was wearing a black power business suit with a dark red tie. I had only met him once, and that was briefly. He was always in his office working or away trying to lure in perspective clients. He exuded a confident bravado and he was always in charge. Not even his wife, Rochelle, ever questioned him let alone Charlie. My palms began sweating and he eyed me carefully as he approached the door. He dug in his pocket for his keys and turned the lock with nary a word.

"You shouldn't be here." Mr. Anderson finally stated as he opened the door.

I stood quickly before he could shut the door on me. "I'm here to talk to you, Mr. Anderson."

He paused for a moment before continuing inside the house. I took it as my invitation that he left the door open. I scurried in and I began twiddling my fingers in my hand. "Mr. Anderson, I don't know how to tell you this..."

"You're my son's faux girlfriend."

That caught me by surprise. "Did Charlie tell you that?"

"No." He offered no other explanation as he began sifting through a pile of mail. 

"How did..."

"I know what my son is capable of achieving. Maybe down the line when he has some confidence or more likely some money, but not his first girlfriend."

This man stupefied me. My Father was always supportive and tried to tell me I could do anything I wanted with my life. Mr. Anderson was blunt and spoke the cold hard truth, no matter how harsh, even about his own son. I then remembered why I was here. I had to get back to my task. While his back was still turned, I took off my shirt and began working on my pants.

Mr. Anderson turned his head toward me and laughed, causing me to stop. His expression became serious just as quick, his eyes never leaving my body. It was too late to back down now and besides, I owed it to Charlie. It was just going to be sex. I finished taking off my pants and stood there. The tension in the room was thick; at least it was for me. Mr. Anderson glanced at me one last time before sorting through the rest of the mail.

I cleared my throat, "Charlie and I... no, I mean, uh, I forced Charlie to, um, to uh..."

"Uh, um, uh, those are words that show stupidity. How did you get accepted into college with a vocabulary like that?" Mr. Anderson shook his head. "How much damage has been done to my car?"

I was now completely intimidated by this man. My mouth was dry, I couldn't even complete a single sentence, and he could read my mind. I wonder if anybody said no to his sales pitches? "It's um, uh, how did you..."

"I know because a slut is in my home in what she thinks is her sexiest underwear offering her body to me to get my socially retarded child out of trouble." Mr. Anderson's eyes narrowed, "Now let's try this again. How much damage has been done to my car?" Every word he used in that question was spoken slow and clear.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "The passenger side front headlight is broken, there is a huge dent in the hood, the windshield needs to be replaced, and the car sputters." In my plan, this is where I would saunter over, grab his crotch and in a sultry voice say, 'I can work off the cost of the repairs.' That is what I rehearsed. But right now, I was too scared to move.

"In my office, now." Mr. Anderson started down the hall. "And pick up your clothes from the ground, my living room isn't your personal locker." 

Did it work? Is he going to have sex with me and forgive Charlie? If not, he would have just told me no, right? Regardless, I rapidly picked up my shirt and pants and hustled down the hall. It was the first door on the right and when I made the turn, I stopped. I had never been in this room before and it was immaculate. A couch was to my right, bookshelves lined the walls, and there was a large wooden desk at the far end of the room with a leather chair behind it. Mr. Anderson had wasted no time and was already on the computer, presumably working.

At this point, I just wanted to get it over with, "Where would you like..."

"Don't speak unless spoken to." Mr. Anderson's voice was stern. "Hang up your clothes." 

I glanced around. The walls of the room all appeared the same. I didn't see anywhere to hang clothes.

"The closet is to your right."

I moved slowly in that direction until I at last saw the doorknob. It was hidden well. I opened the door and pulled my pants through a hanger and put my shirt over it. The door shut with a click and I walked over to the desk.


My Fairytale



Mr. Anderson let out a frustrated sigh, "I said hang up your clothes."

"I...I did."

He grabbed the bra strap that went over my right shoulder and jerked it hard. "These are clothes. So when I said hang up your clothes, why would this still be on your body?" I was almost in tears as I went back to the closet. I heard him mumble, "Stupid girl."

I took off my bra and thong and stood in front of Mr. Anderson as naked as the day I was born with one arm draped over my boobs and my other was hiding my womanhood. He was highlighting phrases on a piece of paper that appeared to be a contract.

"It's a little late to be modest."

As I slowly put my arms at my sides, he slammed the highlighter on his desk and looked up at me in irritation. "On your knees."

He watched me carefully as I fell to my knees. My actions weren't good enough. His hands were on my heels, making the tops of my feet flat to the floor. He then forced my butt to touch my heels, putting all my weight on my shins. Lastly, he gripped my head, turned it straight ahead, and then forced it down. He then just went back to working on the contract.

Time passed with me in that position. I heard the chiming of the clock in the living room signaling a new hour go off twice. My legs were getting sore but I feared what might happen if I broke the position. There was no way I could afford the repairs to the car. I was at his mercy. 

Mr. Anderson's chair turned towards me. "Let's see what you can do." 

It was finally time. I went to get up to move to the couch.

"I don't recall giving you permission to stand." 

I immediately went back into my kneeling position. I looked into his eyes. He was waiting. It was unnerving. I flexed my hands before moving them to his crotch. My movements were tentative as I released his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and then unzipped him. His fingers were tapping one by one in a cadence that showed his annoyance with my frigid movements. I grabbed his pants and underwear and he lifted slightly as I pulled them down. I just stared at his penis. I knew what he wanted, but I had no idea how to give it to him. 

"Go on." Just like all his words, these were not encouraging; they were commands.

I leaned forward. I held it with one hand, aiming it toward my mouth. When I got close, my lips separated and I tasted my first penis. I licked it as I would have eaten a Popsicle. It was growing erect but his finger tapping became more rapid and I knew I was messing up. I then had a moment of clarity - the frat party. That girl had put it in her mouth. So I did. I started moving my head up and down as that girl had done. I thought I was doing a good job.

Mr. Anderson grabbed my head and pulled it from his lap as he stood. "That was fucking horrible!"

"I, uh..."

I was silenced by him lifting me up and placing two stinging slaps to my butt. "I said don't speak!" As he let me drop back to the floor, he took his penis in his own hands and started pumping. I sat there mesmerized, watching him move my saliva back and forth across his rigid tool. I left the sight of his masturbating and gazed up to his eyes. The man towered over me. His eyes narrowed when our eyes locked. I knew then I shouldn't have looked up and I quickly diverted my attention back to his manhood. I tilted my head, curious to what I was witnessing. It was leaking. Why was it leaking? A few more pumps of his fist and Mr. Anderson exploded. On me. I went to back away, but he grabbed my head and held me in place. His cum was on my face, in my hair, and it was dripping onto my boobs. I needed a shower.

Mr. Anderson pulled up his lower garments and I went to stand. He grabbed me and forced me over his desk. This time, his hands reigned down repeatedly. My butt was really starting to hurt. But why was I getting so wet?

"Damn it, look what you made me do because you went to stand again," he showed me his hand that now had some of his cum on it before wiping it on my arm.

I immediately kneeled down again. Mr. Anderson left, but I dared not move. I looked at myself and felt humiliated. What was going on here? I shook my head and was on the verge of crying when I heard his footsteps approach. I immediately ceased all movement and tightened up my kneeling position.

Mr. Anderson sat down at his desk, opened a file, and began typing. It came as a shock when I heard him say, "Stand up." 

I did so immediately and my legs were eternally grateful. 

"Sit," and he patted the top of his desk, just to the right of where he was working. 

I put my butt to the edge of the desk and used my palms to lift myself up about an inch to be seated firmly on it. His left hand was still deftly typing but his right hand spread open my legs. I was now fully opened to him and if my face wasn't covered in cum, we would have noticed a deep crimson flush my cheeks. 

Slowly, he began to rub. He started at me knees, rubbing in small circles, alternating between my legs, each little movement causing his hand to crawl northward. Every inch of my skin between my legs was getting touched. Goosebumps were appearing in anticipation. My eyelids closed so I could focus on the feeling. My body heat was rising. I involuntarily whimpered. What was he doing to me? 

"Touch yourself." His voice was soft. 

My hands went to my breasts.

He had to have stopped typing as he was still massaging my legs but his other hand wrapped like a feather around my wrist and pulled my hand to my womanhood.

"No. Here." A whisper.

I felt him stand.

"Play with your cunt." A breath in my ear.

I played with myself as I always did. I put two fingers barely inside my folds and moved them in opposite directions. With the way Mr. Anderson had worked me up, I was about to orgasm.

"Let me help you."

Mr. Anderson's hand went from my thighs and brushed away my hand. He stroked gently at the folds before his fingers worked in unison and opened them. First one finger leisurely pushed forward. He then pulled it back just as deliberately. It went a little faster when he again thrust into me and it went deeper. He repeated the motion a few more times and then inserted a second finger. His pace quickened. 

My body was on fire. I was already passed what I thought was an orgasm. The little jolts I give myself are nothing compared to the climax I was building up to. I unconsciously started moving my hips in time with his ministrations. And then I felt it. I don't know what Mr. Anderson's thumb touched, but when he did my eyes flew open and my body went into overdrive. What was happening to my body!

"Oh my God."

At my words, all his motions not only ceased, but he removed his hands from my body. "I said no talking." This time when he spanked me, he thumbed that spot and it put me on edge. The pain and pleasure were confusing my senses and I couldn't tell which way was up. When he finished my humiliation, he sat down and started typing again.

With my eyes, I pleaded for him to continue, to touch me anywhere, that spot, a spanking, or anywhere else he so chose but he didn't. How could I be so stupid! I needed what he was about to give me but I had to open my mouth. I started crying.

"Touch yourself." Mr. Anderson's voice wasn't soft anymore, but I didn't care.

I thrust two fingers deep into myself, plunging them in as rapidly as I could. After I developed a rhythm, my hips rocked fiercely against my hand. I quickly built myself back into a frenzy. My other hand went to find that spot. I searched but I couldn't focus on my task - the feelings were too incredible.

"Open your eyes." 

My eyes shot open. Anything for that voice. Mr. Anderson was face to face with me. Though it surprised me that he was that close, I didn't stop.

"Keep them open." 

I focused intently on his eyes. They almost felt calming as I approached my pinnacle. Then I felt it. Mr. Anderson had put his hand above mine. In two spots, his body connected with mine. Simultaneously, he touched that spot again and delivered a firm slap to my butt. It was insane. I felt as if my body spontaneously combusted but I was still here because my eyes were anchored to his, piercing - captivating - commanding.

Mr. Anderson sat back in his chair and I nearly fell from his desk. I looked at the man in a whole new light. That was amazing.

"Back in your spot, Slut."

I disregarded the degrading name and moved swiftly to my kneeling position. With each panted breath, my mind was becoming less clouded. I again looked at myself. I was naked at the feet of Mr. Anderson. The cum he splattered on my body was now crusted on my face and chest. The cum that flooded out from my body was drying on my thighs. What have I become? Was I a slut? I felt confused.

There was a knock at his office door. 

"Come in."

Oh God, what if it's Charlie? What if it's Rochelle? Why was Mr. Anderson not worried?

"Hello Sir."

Crap it was Charlie. Every muscle in my body tensed. I hope he doesn't see me like this. Please God, don't let him see me like this.

"Yes Charles, what is it?" Mr. Anderson didn't even look away from his computer.

"Sir, I assume you saw the car by now and I was coming in to accept my punishment."

"I will tell you when I decide what that is."

"Yes Sir."

I heard the sound of the door begin to shut.

"Oh, and Charles," Now Mr. Anderson did look at Charlie.

"Yes Sir."

"That girl is a stupid slut."

"Yes Sir."

"Do you agree with that statement, Charles?" There was an extended pause. The longer Charlie didn't answer, I knew the angrier Mr. Anderson would get. "I asked if you believe in my assessment of that girl being a stupid slut was an accurate one." His tone was more authoritative this time.

"Yes Sir."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Sir, I believe Andrea is a stupid slut."

"Believe?"

"I apologize Sir, I misspoke. I know Andrea is nothing more than a stupid slut, Sir."

"You may go now."

"Yes Sir," Charlie responded as he shut the door.

Tears started streaming down my face. I wanted to believe that Charlie only said what he did because Mr. Anderson provoked him but as I glanced again at my body, how could I refute that statement?

"I have decided to accept your offer, Slut. You are to accompany me on a business trip I have in New York next week. We leave Sunday morning and will be there a few days. You do that, you and Charles owe me nothing and there will be no punishment. I will also not call the police and press charges for grand theft auto as I originally planned. The choice is yours, Slut." Mr. Anderson paused before adding, "You may speak now."

"But Mr. Anderson..."

He shot me a harsh look at the use of his name.

"Um, I mean Sir, I'm supposed to go see my parents this weekend. My return flight doesn't land until Sunday at six in the evening."

"Not my problem."

"But what about my classes next..."

"I'm tired of talking to a stupid slut." Mr. Anderson stood. "How do you not understand that this is a 'yes' or 'no' answer?"

I sat there mouth agape, not knowing what to do.

"I'm waiting, Slut."

This was supposed to be just sex, how did it come to this? My parents will be disappointed if I don't come to see them, but they would be downright angry if I tell them I was arrested. And Charlie, I told him I'd take care of it - that he wouldn't get in trouble. How could I live myself if I go back on my word, especially since it was all my idea? Mr. Anderson is an animal. I closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate.

"Yes Sir. I will go to New York with you."

Mr. Anderson walked over to the closet. He pulled the hanger out and undid my clothes from it before walking back in front of me and dropping them on the floor. "You are free to go now but remember the deal is off if I don't enjoy myself." He turned on his heels and left without looking back.

I quickly got dressed. I peeked out of the room and glanced in both directions. I was debating on what I should do; go to the bathroom and chance Charlie seeing me or go out the door and have the world see me.

I choose the world. Charlie, despite us not having anything in common, was my only friend and I didn't want to cement that opinion of me his Father instilled into him. If he thought that, then everyone at school would just pile on again. It would be even worse than before.

I walked with my head down as I followed the white line of the road. There was a fast food place, Burger Hut, near the bus stop, so I used my hair to cover my face and darted in the bathroom, almost knocking over a little girl in the process.

"Are you okay, lady?"

"I'm fine." I brushed back my hair as I turned on the faucet. 

"How did you get all covered in glue?"

I started crying which I immediately covered up by dousing my face with handfuls of water. "Long story."

"Here."

I squinted an eye to see that she was handing me some paper towels. I gave a weak smile, "Thanks."

"I'm Lauren and I'm six."

I giggled, "I'm Andrea."

"I once saw Andy Bradford eat glue before. My teacher, Mrs. Mathers, told him to stop but he didn't so she had to run over to him and take it from his hands."

"Is that so?" I continued to scrub my face with the cheap paper towel.

"Yeah, and my Mommy tells me that I shouldn't cry over what other people think of me. She told me to just always be myself - that God made me and that's good enough."

"Lauren?" A woman called from outside the bathroom. "Are you okay in there?"

"That's my Mommy, I gotta go, bye." Lauren struggled with the big door before it finally gave way.

I stared into the mirror. Lauren's words were actually soothing. Be myself, not caring what other people think, I'm good enough... but as I saw the remnants of what I did today, the question remained - Who am I? What am I?

When I made it to my room, I plopped onto my bed. I was tired. I opened the top drawer of my little table and pulled out the airline ticket my parents had sent me. I stared at the words 'NON REFUNDABLE.' My hand was shaky as I pulled up their contact information and pressed the call button.

"Pumpkin!" Dad called out after only one ring. "I can't wait to see you this weekend."

"Hi Dad," I tried to mimic his enthusiasm, but the melancholy in my voice lingered.

"Andrea, what's wrong?"

"Dad, I don't know how to tell you this."

"Andrea, it'll be okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I can't come up this weekend," my heart fell at the words. "I just got assigned this big team project in biology and we only have this weekend to do it."

There was a pause before he spoke. "It's okay, Pumpkin. Maybe for your spring break you'll be able to visit."

"Definitely Dad. I'll be there."

"I'll let your Mom know," I could hear the sadness in his voice though he was trying to sound upbeat. "Don't worry about us, you work hard and get an A on that big project."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Dad laughed. "It's all a part of life. I love you."

"Love you too."

It was too early for bed and I wasn't really hungry, so I tried to study. The problem was that the day's events were invading my thoughts. Amelia Earhart was a stupid slut. Charles Darwin taught Anne Frank how to masturbate. The words in my textbooks merged with thoughts into one orgy of historical figures. I closed the book with more force than I intended, set it on my little table, and curled up under my comforter. 

I tried to sleep. I really did, but I just couldn't get what happened today out of my head. Thinking about Mr. Anderson's hands on my body caused a tingling sensation. I shook my head clear. I shouldn't think about him. But what he did to me was unlike anything I have ever experienced. I glanced at my roommate to note she was already asleep. I doubt that would have mattered, however, as my hand was already inside my pajama pants.

I flicked at my womanhood as I always had done and had to stifle a laugh. That minor sensation was nothing compared to the bliss I wanted. My fingers slid in. I couldn't believe how easily they did. I have never been this wet before. My hips began undulating in motion with my hand. I was already on the cusp of ecstasy. My other hand went to find that spot. It took all of a moment. A gentle touch followed by a surge of pleasure. I did it again and it was even greater. Faster now, my whole body working in unison, striving for that release of euphoria; one hand furiously plunging, the other savagely rubbing, and my hips rocking at a breakneck speed. Suddenly an image appeared of Mr. Anderson spanking me.

"Oh God, Sir!"

I called out his name. I couldn't escape it. I didn't know if I wanted to. Mr. Anderson's eyes, they were once again in front of me and I couldn't look away. The feeling was so wonderfully intense. I lay there panting, feeling divine in my afterglow. Sweat covered my body, my hair was matted, and my body was tingling all over. Is this what sex feels like? Could it be better? 

"Could you keep it down, you fucking whore?" My roommate snarled from her bed using the nickname she gave me when she thought I was hitting on her boyfriend but in actuality, he was the one that approached me. "Don't you have a pimp that will sell you out to take care of that for you?"

I just closed my eyes. Her words had their intended effect, as they always did, but instead of feeling angry - I became embarrassed. What was I thinking? She was right there and I couldn't control myself. My whole body flushed as I rolled onto my side, squeezing the comforter for comfort. What is wrong with me? Why can't I control this? Do I want to?

The next day was all about research. Not for my classes - no - I needed to research the finer points of sex. Mr. Anderson... I mean Sir made it very clear he was to enjoy his week with me. As with any subject, I started with terminology: tits instead of boobs, cock versus penis, cunt or pussy substituted my very special place (please don't judge). I found I was very uneducated in the lingo. As with classes, I made flash cards to help me remember.

I also researched positions. I found my mouth, boo... I mean tits, pussy/cunt, and ass were all able to be used for pleasure. My goal was to be Sir's perfect companion so I wouldn't get spanked again. Whom am I kidding? I'm hoping he'd just touch me again, it doesn't matter how.

Next was the lab portion of my learning. I am ashamed to say that this required borrowing my roommate's vibrator. I experimented in a variety of ways. I practiced deep throating- holy crap that took some effort to not throw up - , anal - it's one thing to know you're supposed to relax your ass muscles quite another to actually do it. It felt like Nate all over again, just in a different hole -, and finally , I shoved it in my cunt - oh hell yes! - I am astonished at how many times I came. Is this what sex feels like? The week with Sir is looking better and better. Sorry Dad.

I arrived at the airport with an hour to spare. I stood in the terminal with my big rolling suitcase that carried virtually all my clothes. I just didn't know what to expect so I didn't know what to pack. I was waiting, searching every face for the one I was meeting. I was anxious. The past two days, I gave into my debase desires and dreamt of Mr. Anderson as I masturbated half the time. Now that I am here, I was debating between leaving or staying and being a - what was the word I saw online? - a fucktoy. I shook my head. I don't want to be something so demeaning. Do I? I know I haven't really found what I was looking for when I left my small town as far as what I wanted to do for a career, what I really enjoyed, but I know I can't make my mark on the world as someone's plaything. Can I? I turned around, planning on running for the exit when Mr. Anderson caught my shoulders.

"This way Slut."

"Um, I think I changed my mind Mr. Anderson."

He didn't speak when he let me go and his eyes didn't show anger when he pulled out his phone. 




My Fairytale



"I'm sorry Mr. Anderson," I added as I watched him scroll through his contact list. "Um, who are you calling?"

Mr. Anderson made a quick irritated glance in my direction, as if to say 'I don't answer to you' but he then obliged. "You are defaulting on your end of the agreement so I am upholding the consequences I stated if you did." 

I heard the phone ring twice before a gruff voice answered. "Hello Sargent Hooper, here." 

"Yes, as discussed prior, I would like to press charges against Charles Anderson and..."

"No! Wait Sir!" I clasped my hands together, "Please don't do this. I'll go. Look, I'm going." I took a few steps toward one of the many check-in counters, not even sure if it was the right one.

"Never mind Sargent. I'll see you on the golf course next week. Good luck today."

As he hung up the phone, Mr. Anderson pierced me with his eyes. He came right up to me and grabbed my bag. "This way, Slut."

I followed a few steps behind him. I was all in now. I was going to be a... fucktoy. I felt like crying. I was soaking through my panties. What's worse is that Mr. Anderson won't speak to me. He spoke at me. I wish I knew what he wanted, it would be easier to prepare my mind for what's to come. I just have to last the week and it will all be over. I can go back to my life. Do I want to?

The flight to New York went smoothly. Mr. Anderson just sat and read the paper. I tried to read my Cosmopolitan magazine but I was on edge. At any second, I assumed Mr. Anderson was going to make me join the mile high club. After learning what that was during my research, I knew subconsciously I was excited about the idea, but that was fantasy. To do that in reality? The prospect was both thrilling and nerve wracking. 

When we reached the exquisite Dunesbury Hotel, I was both disappointed and relieved I had my own room. They were adjoining and there was a door that provided access to each without having to go into the hall, but I had assumed we would be sharing a bed.

The rooms themselves were nice. They were better than an average room but not gaudy suites. Each had a bedroom, a small office space, and an area that could be called a living room that had a television, couch and coffee table.

"Leave the luggage." Mr. Anderson gave a money-filled handshake to the bellhop to finalize that his services were no longer required.

As soon as the door shut, Mr. Anderson took care of our suitcases; mine near the dresser and his in the other room. He also had a duffle bag and a laptop carrying case. He set the duffle bag on the floor next to him as he sat in the office chair. He then looked at me. His eyes made the point that these rooms had the same rules as his home office. I quickly obliged by stripping. He sat at the desk and pulled out his laptop. I opened the closet to hang up my clothes and was briefly paralyzed at what I saw - there was a complete wardrobe of woman's clothes and shoes. Just by the look of them, they weren't cheap. I started thumbing through them, some were elegant, some were meant to show off as much skin as possible, and all were my size. The shoes varied in color, but all were different types of heels. I shook my head. I had almost forgot why I opened the closet. I grabbed an empty hanger to put my shirt, jeans, and underwear on it. I then hurried into the kneeling position by Mr. Anderson's side. 

"Good girl," Mr. Anderson spoke as he was typing.

I beamed with pride at the remark. It was the first positive words he had ever spoken to me. I felt confused at that feeling. The feeling was based with hope that this man would touch me again but he said it in regards to me being nude and at his feet. What is becoming of me? Did I care?

There was a knock on the door, "Room service."

I got scared. I went to crawl behind the bed to hide myself when I heard Mr. Anderson. "Did I say you could move?" He let out a frustrated huff. "Sluts aren't permitted to think. You are going to learn the rules one way or the other."

I immediately retook my spot near his feet, a welling of water about to flood from my eyes.

"Come in."

The attendant appeared to be a teenager. He took two steps in with a cart and stopped, "Holy shit." Mr. Anderson stood while looking at him harshly but it didn't deter the attendant. "Is she your subm..."

My whole body blushed a deep shade of red. 

"Your job is to deliver food, not to comment on your patron's affairs," Mr. Anderson interrupted.

"Sweet, you're having an affair? Can I have a turn after you?"

Mr. Anderson walked over to the attendant and ripped his name badge from his vest. "Get out, Wesley."

Wesley moved to the side so he could ogle me once more past Mr. Anderson. His smile was grand until Mr. Anderson pushed him out the door and he fell into the wall across the hall with a thud. Mr. Anderson then slammed the door shut. 

Mr. Anderson walked with conviction to the phone and tapped a button. "I have always stayed at this hotel and it's because you offer the best service. So I am appalled that this hotel would hire this person, Wesley. The next time I need something, it better damn well be delivered by someone who can respect one's privacy. Because if it's not, Wesley is going to need a wheelchair to get back down to the lobby." 

Click.

What did Mr. Anderson expect? He has me nude, in the open, and told the kid to enter the room. Of course, the teenager is going to stare. Still, it was somewhat flattering to see Mr. Anderson defend me so vigorously.

"Stand up." 

I did. 

"Bend over." 

I did.

Mr. Anderson kneeled down to his duffle bag and pulled something out. When he turned, I saw it. He brought out a crop whip! Was he going to use that on me? I thought those were for horses? Why was I not running out of this room?

"This is for breaking position when that idiot knocked on the door." Thwack.

I still couldn't believe what was happening when the first strike struck me. I cringed. When the second connected, I felt the pain and let out an "ugh" noise. The third blow is when body started to behave differently. I felt a tingle of excitement in my loins. What was that? It became worse with every crack against my flesh until I was actually gushing. I felt ashamed about how my body was reacting. Mr. Anderson stopped when I was on the verge of having an orgasm. I was going out of my mind. Just one more touch. That's all I needed. It didn't matter where, a finger to my shoulder - anything!

"Back into position."

I complied, but I didn't want to.

Mr. Anderson went to the cart that Wesley left and brought over two plates. He set mine on the floor and his on the desk as he sat. I watched him eat a few bites before I tentatively picked up my roast beef sandwich. Being as nervous as I was, I did not eat breakfast this morning. I was starving, but now I wanted something else...

Mr. Anderson finished before me and began typing on his laptop. As soon as I was finished, however, he powered down his computer, picked up our plates, put them on the cart, and then rolled it into the hallway. Neat and tidy. He sat back in front of me, lifted my chin so we made eye contact. 

"Shall we get started?"

I looked up into his eyes with fear and longing in mine. The contradiction in my soul was coming to a head and I was both frightened and thrilled. He was an animal and I was his prey. Despite my having that thought, I was still surprised at what came next.

Mr. Anderson tied me up. Not just some simple spread eagle position on the bed - no - he used his rope meticulously in a crisscrossing pattern and the knots appeared to be intricately crafted. The tightness of my bindings was nearly tearing into my skin. He then put me over an ottoman. I felt like art.

He began a feathery stroking over my exposed flesh, making little jumps over the bindings when he happened upon them. It gave me goose bumps.

He then reached for the crop whip. Smack. 

"Ugh." Oh God, that felt so good. Why does this feel so damn good?

"Do you know why I think you're stupid?" 

Smack. "Ugh." How can I answer him? He's driving me wild.

"It's because you don't accept who you are." 

Smack. "Ugh."

"I saw it the first time I met you."

Smack. "Ugh."

"I knew it the day you propositioned me."

Smack. "Ugh."

"And you're still confused."

Smack. "Ugh."

"Even now."

Smack. "Ugh."

"You are two people."

What did he mean by 'two people?'

Smack. "Ugh."

"One you show to your teachers, your parents, and everyone else."

Smack. "Ugh."

"The other, you keep hidden behind that phony exterior."

Smack. "Ugh." My body tensed and I came. Hard. Why did my body do that?

Mr. Anderson rubbed the crop whip against my cunt. Oh God. My hips went to move against it but it was already gone.

"Do you see this?" He put the end of the crop whip right in front of me. It was glistening. "This is what you want. This is who you are."

I was mesmerized as I stared at my body's reaction on the whip.

"Smell it."

I made a quick breath.

Mr. Anderson pushed it near my nostrils. "Deeper."

I inhaled deeply, smelling myself.

"Now lick it."

My eyes found his, begging for his reconsideration. Mr. Anderson pushed it to my lips. "I said lick it."

I complied. I sobbed. It was sweet. It was humiliating. I was getting horny again.

Mr. Anderson untied me. "You need to respect yourself." He picked up my quivering body and laid me gently on the bed. He kissed my forehead as he covered me with the comforter. I easily succumbed to sleep.

I had an intense dream. It felt like I was floating above a dungeon watching someone being humiliated by Mr. Anderson. That person was enjoying it. That person was shouting her praises to the man fulfilling her desires. Then that person looked up and locked eyes with me. That person was me. "What makes you happy?" I laughed at myself. Then the cracking of a whip forced an orgasm out of her. Suddenly her restraints disappeared but she didn't move. Instead, Mr. Anderson cuddled her, "You are now free from the shame society puts on you. Enjoy your life to the utmost."

Suddenly there was screaming. Someone else was crying out a chorus of praises to Mr. Anderson. Is that who he is? Someone who helps people - saves them, really - from the shackles the world has placed on our subconscious?

The screaming became more pronounced and I awoke with a start. It was coming from the adjacent room. I quickly went to the doorframe and peeked inside. Mr. Anderson had a woman lying sideways on the bed while he was standing, driving his cock into her. He was holding a chain that appeared to split three ways; two went to each of her nipples and the third to her clit. Her hands were handcuffed together in front of her and her legs were strapped to the legs of the bed. She was also blindfolded. I was jealous.

Almost as if Mr. Anderson knew I'd be there, he looked straight at me.

"Play with that needy cunt of yours."

The woman's hands travelled down to her pussy and began toying with herself despite her not realizing he was talking to me. I did as I was told. I was surprised that with just Mr. Anderson's order, I was already wet. With two hands, I went to work. One hand was using two fingers to slide into myself and the other dutifully toying with my pearl. All the while watching Mr. Anderson fuck that woman. I wanted so much for that to be me.

His eyes never left mine and I didn't care. The faster I went, the more aroused I became. The more aroused I became, the more I realized I didn't want this to end. I didn't want to go back to the prude who never had an orgasm. I wanted what was my God given right as a female and knew Mr. Anderson could give it to me. No one else. I understood now everything he meant to teach me. 

Mr. Anderson wasn't an animal. He was a Beast. I was his Beauty. We came together with differing opinions of each other. He was hard and I naïve. But he showed a softer side, carrying me like a princess to the bed. He was what I dreamt of since I was a small child. I needed him to watch me. I needed him to see that I was ready to take the next step. That we were destined by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve herself to be together. I was his and he was my fairytale.

"Cum for me." Mr. Anderson yanked hard on the chain.

I smiled. I was more than happy to oblige. I whispered, "Yes Si..."

"Yes Master!" The woman bellowed.

We came at the same time. My knees went weak and I fell to the floor. The woman went into convulsions and started hyperventilating. Mr. Anderson's back arched and I knew he unloaded into the woman.

I had to calm my jealousy. After all, that woman just taught me a lesson I will never forget. I was always referring to Mr. Anderson by Sir in his presence, but I only was doing so to appease him. But I was wrong. You don't call someone a name just to please, you call someone what they deserve to be called. Mr. Anderson is Master. My Master. I was referring to Master by the wrong name. Also, it is apparent that I'm not the only one that needs His help. I can't be jealous over my Prince helping others. It is His kingdom. It is His duty.

With just a head nod, Master ordered me into the other room. How uncouth would it be when He frees that woman and she realizes she had an audience? Well, as long as I was with Master, I would like it but not everyone's needs are the same. Master knows best. I quickly took my position on the carpet by the office chair.

It didn't take long for Master to dismiss the satisfied woman and enter the room. I was on edge. It took all my strength to hold my position in the correct manner. All I wanted was to shout my gratitude - to declare my undying loyalty to my one and only Master. And He knew it. Just like everything else, it was going to be on His terms.

Master walked around doing random tasks; making the bed, checking His email, putting His clothes away either in the closet or the dresser. It made me appreciate Him more. I knew that after all we've been through, He wanted to know He was successful in His endeavor - I mean, don't we all want validation for our work? But He was able to have patience. It gave me a comforting feeling to know He can be calculating even in times of jubilation. He was right. I really didn't need to think. I was free from worry and all the stress life can throw at me as long as I had Him.

After He was done working around the room, Master finally sat in front of me.

"You can speak now."

I cried. I couldn't help it. With every tear, I felt more alive. I was happier at that moment than I ever had been before. I felt like myself for the first time.

Instead of a grand proclamation as I had planned, it came out as a whimper, "Thank you Master."

He smiled.

I cried even more as I finally felt pride in myself - the pride my Master had given me.

He reached down and cupped my chin. "You realized you are perfect the way you are. Sooner than I thought you would, too. You are free to go home. I have your return ticket right here."

What? "No Master. Please don't send me away."

"My goal was only to show you who you are so you can be happy."

My cry turned into a sob. I clutched at his legs, a pleading tone to my cracking voice, "But I am yours Master. Please, please let me stay with you."

"Andrea."

It was the first time he had ever called me by name. I didn't like it. That wasn't me anymore. I'm sure my eyes had shown my disdain, but I kept it out of my voice. One cannot be mad at her Master, especially when she's trying to convince Him to keep her. "My name is Slut, Master. You gave me that name and that is what I will go by. That other term is what bound me to my old life."

Master ran a hand through his hair. I could tell He was slightly confused.

"Please, Master." I was now groveling for His acceptance.

"Look. I understand that you feel a connection between you and me. I do. It's natural. Believe it or not, it is not the first time. But you have just been liberated. You have the chance to find your true Master. One who'll take care of you for the rest of your life. You can choose that person now that you know what to look for. One closer to your age. Until then, yes, I will take care of your needs, as I should, but there is a whole world out there that you can find love and happiness. I had only used the word slut to differentiate between the Andrea you wanted to be perceived as and the Andrea that was your hidden personality."

"Master, please? I know in my heart I found what I am looking for in you. I don't care about age."

"This is new," Master shook his head. "This is why I didn't have sex with you. Intimacy cements the bond. I underestimated your resolve." Master took a deep breath. "I want you to give it a couple days. Think about your future. I'm confident you'll change your mind."

I won't. In my eyes, I just won. I got Master to back down, even if it was for a couple of days. I just had to prove to Him that I am someone He needs as well. I do worry about Rochelle. My Master has a wife and I need to prove I can have a place at His side.

We went to bed after that minor debate. Well, He did. I couldn't sleep. For the first time in my life, I knew what I wanted, and He was in the next room. Earlier this morning, I had thought I didn't want to be a plaything for Master, now it was my dream. But it was more than that. Almost as if I was a little girl again and I knew I would be a Princess. I knew He would take care of me. 

I woke up early to start in what I hoped would be my everyday duties. I ordered room service for breakfast before slithering from the bottom of His comforter. There it was. Though dark under the covers, I salivated at the sight of his cock in the small amount of light that came from the opening I came from. My mouth was like a magnet being drawn to it and I parted my lips around it. I was getting hot just by the thought of having my Master's cock in my body. It didn't matter where.

It was growing erect. I smiled. I was pleasing my Master. I went at a leisurely pace, sliding my head all the way down until my nose was being tickled by His hair. This was so much better than deep throating a vibrator.

"What the hell?"

I picked up speed at His outburst and even put my hands to His ass to gain more depth. The covers flew off us and I got my first glimpse of my Master's eyes. I smiled. I was now going at a furious velocity. On the down stroke, I twirled my tongue. When I came back up, I hollowed out my cheeks and let my tongue graze over the sensitive underside of His shaft. His hands went to my head and encouraged me. His hips began buck into me. I loved it. I would have yelled at the top of my lungs for Him to use me but my mouth was a little busy at the moment.

Master didn't give me a warning. I didn't care. His first shot went down my throat before I pulled up and kept the just the tip in between my lips for the next two spurts. After that, I wanted Him to mark me as He had done before. I pulled off completely and let the remaining shoot on my face. His head fell back into the pillows but we kept eye contact. I smiled and showed Him the load I had in my mouth and then swallowed it.

"That was greatly improved," Master ran a hand through His hair. 

There was a knock on the door, "Room service."

I scampered into position on the floor by the foot of the bed. I was located so the attendant would see me immediately upon entry, with my Master's cum hardening on my face. I wanted to prove I could handle what I couldn't yesterday.

It took a couple seconds for Master to realize what I had done before He announced, "Come in."

The attendant walked in, briefly paused when he saw me, and then continued as if I wasn't there. He rolled the cart in, "Where would you like it Sir."

"We'll take care of it, thank you." Master reached for His wallet and pulled out a tip. I noticed the situation and stood. I was the go between for Master and the attendant. Anticipate. That was my goal. 




My Fairytale



"Thank you Sir." The attendant gave a small bow before exiting the room.

I set up a tray and put it over His lap before setting His plate there. I took my breakfast and knelt down on the floor beside Him.

"Some dominants do require there submissives to be beneath them at all times and it is great that you are willing to do whatever it takes, but that is not what this lifestyle is about. You give of your whole self and your Master takes care of all your needs. If you wish to be treated as such, then so be it. But I am cognizant of what it is you are trying to do but I like to enjoy the view. Sit up here with me." Master patted the area of the bed next to Him. 

I eagerly complied.

We ate in silence. I felt Him keep gazing at me. Not being able to kneel, I did my best to sit up straight and push my chest outward. I could tell He was thinking about something before letting go of the thought as we finished our meal.

"I have to work." Master grabbed his wallet. "You are free to do whatever you like. Go sightseeing, shopping... you'll find this city has anything you desire. Here is my credit card." He then slid out of bed and went to His dresser. He was getting dressed.

I did my part and started cleaning up His room. Master has shown he likes everything to be in its place. When I rolled the breakfast cart into the hallway, an elderly man saw me and I think he nearly shot a load into his depends. I simply smiled and gave a head nod as I closed the door. When I came back, I realized that Master going to work meant He working on his laptop in the office of the room.

I didn't go anywhere. All I wanted was Master's acceptance. I couldn't prove myself if I wasn't near Him. I took my position at His feet. I could feel that He was slightly frustrated with me. He wanted me to experience life and find someone new, younger. But I knew if I were persistent, He would understand that He was my Prince Charming.

It was four o'clock and I hadn't moved. And it didn't bother me in the slightest. Master turned His chair toward me. "I suppose I'll show you around." He went into my room and came back with one of the new dresses from the closet. It was red and definitely on the borderline between classy and slutty. The hemline was a few inches above the knee and straps went around my neck. I felt somewhat embarrassed at carrying my department store purse with it. 

As I put on my matching high heels, I took a quick inhalation of air. Master was so handsome in His button down shirt and slacks. 

We had a lite dinner at a little bistro before we went to a club called Through the Looking Glass. Master didn't have to wait in line and with a nod, walked past the bouncer. The music was loud and the place had a medieval quality to it. Girls were dancing in cages that were suspended off the floor and each table seemed to have its own entertainment, whether it be a girl in chains being whipped or a guy being forced to lick the boot of a woman. Every person seemed to be wearing either leather or latex and many had leashes attached as well. It was intimidating, but I knew as long as I was with Master, I would be safe.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting you today!" A balding, robust man wearing nothing more than a pair of skin tight latex shorts, that left nothing to the imagination as far as his girth was concerned, came up and shook Master's hand. My God, he was bigger than Nate.

"Evening Frankie, I see business is good."

"Of course. I mean every so often the pigs like to show up and piss in our trough, but nothin' I can't handle."

"Good. Is Leon here tonight?"

"Leon? Nah. He upped and moved down to Miami to start a club of his own. I got a new guy, Ray. He's only been here a week, no complaints, though he has only dealt with the really hardcores in Roxy and Marissa."

"You should have let me know about Leon, Frankie. I told you he was next in line for a club." Master ran his hand through his hair. "And you know I like to verify the abilities of any new hires before they start."

"Yeah, sorry man," Frankie immediately tried to salvage the situation. "I know you're busy and I needed someone fast for the weekend. And he's really good. But I understand and it won't happen again." Frankie then quickly changed the subject, "So is she new to the scene?"

"She started a couple days ago and now she's attached to me. I need her to know there are others out there that can treat her the way she deserves to be treated."

"So she's tainted?"

"Frankie, you know I hate when you use that term," Master's eyes slightly narrowed. "She's just inexperienced."

"Yeah, I know," Frankie laughed. "I just like to pull your chain. You may be one of the best, but you're better when you have that little fire in you." He then looked at me, "Come with me little Darlin.' Ray's goin' to love you."

I had to restrain my giggle when Frankie turned around. His shorts were ass less.

Master put His hand to my lower back and encouraged me to follow. I hesitantly took a couple steps, worried that I was now on my own but breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Master was coming as well.

Our trip took us up a small metal staircase and across a catwalk that went right over the dance floor before stepping onto a red-carpeted hallway. There were four rooms, two on each side, and an emergency exit straight ahead. We went to the furthest door on the right and entered without so much as a knock. If the rest of the place reminded me of medieval times, this was definitely the dungeon with a myriad of devices all around the room. The only things that seemed out of place were the mirrors and that this room was mostly carpeted with the exception of a small tiled area in the back left corner that housed a tub, a small area next to it that had chains on the wall, and a drain.

There was a big, hulking, muscle bound man seated on a bench in the middle of the room. I found humor that he was reading a Calvin and Hobbes comic book.

"Hey Ray, I got someone for you," Frankie announced.

Ray gave a wolf whistle as he stood, "That pretty little thing? I'm going to have some fun with her."

Master stepped up, his voice firm, "This is for her pleasure, not yours."

"What's it to you little man?" Ray came over to Master with a scowl on his lips, "This here is my room and I do whatever I want in it."

Master didn't back down and stared back at the man. "Wrong, this is my room and if you don't do as I say, I have no problem kicking your ass out of it."

Frankie stepped in, "Ray, this is the silent owner I mentioned to you, so if you still want a job, I suggest you back off."

The words cut Ray to his core and I noticed Master had a small grin.

"Now as with all our clients, this is for her pleasure. She's brand new so none of the hardcore masochism. She likes to be spanked, tied up, light domination, and humiliated."

"Listen to him Ray," Frankie added. "This man is an expert at judging a client's personality."

"Yeah, yeah," Ray rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" Frankie admonished.

Ray put up his hands, "All right, I got it." 

Master turned and gave me a Fatherly kiss on the forehead. "Have fun." I was disappointed but took solace that I had a day or two to change his mind. I gave a nervous nod in reply. He then turned to Frankie, put an arm around his shoulder, and I barely made out His whisper, "Are you certain about this guy?"

"Yes Sir," Frankie smiled. "Now I'm sure you want to see the books."

The door closed and Ray's expression unnerved me, his smile became sinister in nature. "That guy sure thinks he knows everything, but this here is my room."

"He is not some guy," I admonished. "He is my Master." 

"Really? Normally a Master doesn't let another take charge of their sub without knowing more about them."

"He thinks I need to experience more." My face saddened, "He doesn't want to be my Master."

Ray eyed me curiously, "Didn't he teach you that there are consequences for speaking without permission?"

If Master wants me to have fun, so be it. This will change nothing. I turned to the side and wagged my ass at Ray.

"It's not that easy with me. I think I can judge personality good too and believe me when I say I know you are just like everyone else." Ray walked over to the tiled area. "Now get your ass over here!"

I was worried but he was a professional and I overheard that he was good at his job, but still...

"Take off that dress of yours!" Ray thundered as he turned on the faucet and the tub began to fill.

I complied and turned to hang it up somewhere.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ray's tone more than expressed his displeasure. "Apparently I need to retrain you!"

Ray seized my dress and threw it off to the side. He then took hold of my wrist and pulled me in his direction. As I came closer to him, he let me go and sidestepped. My foot left the carpet and landed on the tile. My balance was lost and I fell into the side of the tub.

"Ow," My hands clutched at my stomach where the impact was hard felt.

Ray forcefully grabbed my head and shoved it under the water - Oh my God, he's going to drown me! I heard him laughing as my limbs began flailing in every direction. Right as I couldn't hold my breath any longer, he pulled me up. I gasped for a big breath of air.

"Now don't you cum before I give you permission," Ray snickered.

I barely made out his words as he slammed my head back under the water. This time, my whole body fell into the tub. How can anyone get off on this? My hands started to slap at the vise attached to my head when his other hand embraced both my wrists and held them together. My eyes clenched tight as I tried to concentrate on holding my breath. My lips faltered and I could taste water and then... oxygen! Ray had pulled my head out from under the water just in time.

I coughed up what little water I breathed in and my fight was gone, "Master..." It was nothing more than a mumble.

"That's right, Bitch. I'm your new Master!"

Ray had it all wrong. I was calling for my Master. "Save me."

"I'll teach you to call for someone else during my session!"

Now Ray understood but that wasn't a good thing. He pulled me up by my wrists before attaching them to the wall. He then put some clamps on my nipples that had wires coming from them and went to a box in his hands. "We'll see how you like some electricity coursing through those wet tits of yours.

My eyes were glazed over but what I heard next caused the biggest smile I could muster, which wasn't much. 

The door flew open, "Water torture?" My Master's footsteps charged toward Ray and his fist squarely planted into his face. "This is about the client, not your sadistic tendencies!"

Ray was caught off guard and his head flew to the left, some spittle going with it before he took a hard stance. "She was getting off on it!" He yelled back as he swung back.

Master ducked and placed two firm body shots before crushing Ray's jaw with a hard left hook. "Bullshit. This was about you not understanding what your role as a dominant is in this lifestyle is."

"Oh, and you think you're such an expert?" Ray swung again and again he missed. "I'm going to take all your business!"

Frankie stood there with his head down and pinching the bridge of his nose, almost as if he knew what was going to happen. "Do you really think Roxy and Marissa and everyone else you're referring to are going to turn on their first Master?" Frankie sighed and then turned and felt my sex. I tensed. "And she's as dry as Death Valley."

"What?" Ray's voice registered complete shock as he stopped; his arm had been cocked back ready to throw another punch.

Master shook his head as He stared at the bewildered man. At that point, He must have known there wasn't any more fight left in Ray. He then came over to me, brushing by Ray as He did, and with a delicate touch, He carefully released my nipples. I cringed at the sensation. He then released my wrists and I fell into Master's arms, my knight in shining armor. Frankie handed Master a towel.

"Ray," Master's tone was one a teacher would use to a student, "most people view our lifestyle with disgust, thinking 'how can the submissive willingly be a slave to someone.' But they are wrong. The truth is that we dominants are slaves to the submissives. We can't exceed their limits nor can we come up short. If either of those happen, we failed and we don't get what we need; the submissives absolute trust and faith that propels them to be willing to be our everything." Master wrapped the towel around my body and enveloped me in my arms. "You had an opportunity to gain that trust with her and she would have gone above and beyond to make you happy, but now..." I felt him look down on me. "She'll have a hard time trusting anyone else ever again."

"I... I... I had no idea," Ray stumbled over every word, his face masked in anguish. He then looked me directly in the eyes, "I am so sorry."

A few seconds passed in which all that transpired was that Master was drying me with the towel. "It's okay," I answered. And it was. Not that I wanted to be alone with him ever again, but I honestly felt he was telling the truth and was genuine in his apology.

"Ray," Master continued, "With anyone new, you have to read them; use a code word so they can tell you if they feel you are going too far. But you will not get that opportunity here. Get the fuck out and never come back." 

Ray stared at Master for a few moments before giving a slight nod. As he turned, his eyes locked with mine. What a difference. He appeared he was on the verge of tears. His head fell and he dawdled as he left the room.

Frankie brought over my dress and I slipped into it.

Master put his arm around me, "Frankie and I still have some business to discuss. It shouldn't take long and then we'll go back to the hotel."

When we left the room, I suddenly remembered we were in a club. The experience with Ray was one I'll never forget. Though I was scared, I don't think I was in danger. He seemed to pull me from the water at just the right moment so I wouldn't drown. Though the thought of having little jolts of electricity sent through my nipples still didn't sound pleasurable; it did open my eyes that there was a whole world I knew nothing about and what I've experienced is only the tip of the iceberg. By the time we finished descending the steps, I felt better and my eyes once again began darting from table to table and to the sights I've never witnessed before.

As we passed the bar, I froze. There was a small area that sold some of the tools of the trade and I couldn't look away.

"I'll be in the office right through that door." I jumped at the voice of my Master, which was right in my ear. He laughed as he left me standing there. 

I stared at the different implements that were offered. I wasn't looking for anything particular; I was just fascinated.

"Hey, I'm Zoe. Do you see anything you like?" The beautiful raven haired sales woman, who was dressed in a black leather bustier, matching panties, and a pair of high heeled boots that stretched to her upper thigh, gave me a wide smile.

"Um, no... I'm fine, thanks."

"I saw who you walked in with. Are you another one of his subs?"

"I want Him to be my Master."

"Good for you! Not everybody finds someone they are comfortable with so quickly. Did he say he would take you on?"

"It's a work in progress."

Zoe laughed. "Well, you might want to consider one of these," and with a hand gesture, she directed my line of sight to a shelf of collars. "Nothing says 'hey, be my Master' like letting him collar you. I can even engrave it for you. It'll only take a couple minutes."

My eyes lit up and I had a huge smile until I remembered that I was broke. I frowned, "I don't have any money."

"Money?" Zoe scoffed. "I know who you walked in with and he'd fire me in a second if I charged you."

It took me but a second to decide. "That one," I pointed to a pink collar with white trim. "And I want Slut engraved on that heart charm."

"Hey Jerry, I got one for you," Zoe handed the collar and charm to a guy who peeked out from a little sliding window from behind. She explained what I wanted to the man and then turned back to me. "Give Jerry a couple minutes." She then gave a wicked smile, "Slut, huh?"

"Master called me Slut several times."

"Really?" Zoe's face took on a confused quality. "Hey Jerry, wait a sec on that engraving!"

"Yeah, yeah." I heard Jerry through the little window.

"Honey," the sincerity in Zoe's voice almost made me take a step back, "What's your name?"

"Andrea."

"Do you like your name?"

"Well, yes, but Master..."

"Only told you what you needed to hear at the time. It was the same with me too. Has he since called you Andrea?"

"Ye... yes," I stammered.

Zoe smiled, "You'll find that he has a reason for everything he does. You're Andrea. Be Andrea. Trust me, that is all he wants for you."

I finally understood. Master wanted me to be myself. Here I was under the impression I wanted to be a slave to His needs, but what I really am is submissive. In fact, Master never had used the term 'slave.' The realization that He knew I was good enough just as I am turned my desires for Him to love. I love Him. I nodded as I smiled, "I can be me."

Zoe gave a slight chuckle at my expression before turning to that little window. "Hey Jerry, make that engraving Andrea." 

When Zoe turned back around, she had another customer so I started browsing again. In a few short minutes, Zoe was finished with her customer and came back over to me, collar in hand. 

"Here you go," Zoe handed over the piece of leather with a smile.

I brushed my hand over it, surprised at how soft it felt. My eyes stared at it with reverence as my nose inhaled the beautiful scent. "Thanks," the elation evident in my tone as I went to put it on.

Zoe grabbed my hand, "No!" She then shook her head. "You're supposed to let him do that."

"Oh," I let out a nervous giggle as I tucked the collar in my purse. "I didn't know." I frowned at the thought that Master may never collar me.

Zoe took my reaction as being embarrassed, "Don't worry, Honey. There's no right way or wrong way. It's just being with the right person who understands you; and you, them."

"Thanks," I smiled and headed for the office door. I raised my hand to knock when the door opened. It was Master. The brief glimpse inside revealed a wall of video cameras, including one in the room I was in with Ray. 

"I was just coming to get you."

I smiled.

"See you in a couple months, Frankie," Master called back as He wrapped his arm around my waist. 

At the hotel, Master tucked me in. He sat on the edge of the bed, seemingly hovering over me. "I apologize about what happened with Ray," He brushed a tendril of hair from my face.

"It's all right," I smiled. "The experience was eye opening. I never knew there was so much involved in this," I paused a second to think of the right descriptive word but then decided to use His, "lifestyle."

"You do have a lovely smile," Master leaned in and kissed me tenderly on my forehead. "I wasn't looking to take on another submissive. I have quite a few all over the country. Most need me to fulfill their desires when I'm in town while the rest of the time they go on with their daily lives or until they find a Master of their own. That is what I wanted for you." He shook his head. "Now I take responsibility."

"Master?"

He leaned in and put His lips to mine. Our first kiss. It was electric. I felt a pulsing stemming from the contact and it coursed through my body and to my very soul.

Master stood and slowly undressed. I couldn't help but smile. He pulled the comforter away from my body. I wanted so much for my form to please Him. He stared. I blushed. He lowered his body atop of mine. I was wet with anticipation. He hovered above me for the briefest of moments. Our eyes locked. Slowly, His hands were feeling my body. He started at my hips and, with a gentle touch, brought them higher. His right hand took hold of my wrists and slowly lifted my arms above my head as He came down and kissed me again. I was lost in the wonderfulness of it. And then I felt the cold steel against my skin and heard the click. When did He grab handcuffs? He had wrapped the chain around the bed post, forcing my arms to stay above my head. He maneuvered himself into position. I could feel my heartbeat through my chest. His cock was at my entrance. I almost came from anticipation. He lowered. I felt His thick shaft slide effortlessly inside. It was wonderful. 




My Fairytale



Master started to pull back out. He couldn't possibly be done, could he? I wanted to protest and I could feel tears beginning to form. But He thrust back into me. Yes! I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips. It felt oh so delicious. Our eyes met and he smiled. He smiled! 

"You are mine now. I own you." It wasn't a request. Master told me. I was so happy.

"Yes Master. I am yours, forever." Tears quickly formed.

With His next insertion, I bucked back. His speed increased and I was trying to match Him. I was already on the precipice of something I have never experienced before. 

Master was relentless in His assault of my cunt. I mean His cunt. It was more of a pillaging. He was ravishing me in a wicked way, dominating me with a flurry of cock thrusts meant to take his pleasure. In doing so, he was giving me the fucking of a lifetime. But something was missing...

Master then smacked my tits... Hard. That was it! I needed some physicality. Master knew me so well. He threw my legs over His shoulders allowing more access. With one hand, He made an underhanded swoop. It landed with a loud smack against my ass. His other hand began torqueing my nipples. He kept up his mauling, certainly leaving His marks upon my body with a flurry of pinches, twists, and spankings. He loved my nipples. So did I.

"Cum now!" 

I exploded in a euphoric delight at the command and all I saw were stars and bright colors as my body seized in a blinding rage. I felt Master's essence flow inside me, claiming what was rightfully His. I never felt so alive.

Master fell to my side, His head propped up by His elbow, and a smirk adorning His face. He was just looking at me. I relished it and smiled back at Him.

"Go get your collar."

My eyes went wide and my smile grew, but I didn't hesitate and ran to my purse. Due to my excitement, it took two attempts to pull the zipper open but once it did, I grabbed the collar and rushed back to Master. When I was in front of Him, I knelt in position and held it up for Him to take.

Master seemed to investigate it while still in my hands. Time seemed to move slowly and for a moment, I thought he'd reconsidered. 

"I'm glad to see you chose Andrea."

Master then picked up the collar from my outstretched hands and placed it around my neck. With the fastening of the buckle, I cried a few tears of happiness. I was kneeling in front of my Master, having proof He owned me around my neck, with His cum oozing out of His cunt and down my thigh. I felt so complete.

"We should get to bed. We have an early flight tomorrow."

All I could do is nod.

I was a little disappointed that as I got into bed, He went to the other room. I know Master was just setting the ground rule now that we would not be sleeping together. Makes sense since He does have a wife back home. She'll be the queen and I'll be the princess. 

The flight home was the same as the flight to New York - uneventful. I was still hoping to become a part of the mile high club but it never came to fruition. As we entered His house, I heard someone coming from upstairs.

"Master, you're home early." Rochelle announced as she came down the stairs. 

It was the first time I had ever heard her reference Master as Master. I don't know why, but it surprised me. It was also the first time I saw her not wearing a turtleneck. In fact, she was only wearing a solitary piece of clothing; a crimson colored collar with diamond studs going around it. A week ago, this sight would have perturbed me. Today, I thought she looked exquisite. 

Rochelle paused for but a nanosecond when she saw me but continued on her path. She stopped right in front of Master and knelt down; taking the same position I am now accustomed to taking in front of Him.

"Welcome home, Master. I apologize for not being in the appropriate position for your arrival. I am ready for my punishment." Rochelle then leaned forward and pressed her tits to the floor and put her ass in the air.

Was she serious? How in the world would she have known we were going to arrive back two days early? I didn't understand but Master simply unzipped His duffle bag and pulled out a paddle. It took but an instant for Him to have it in His grasp and to deliver the first blow. 

I stood confused, just watching. I didn't understand why it was her fault and why she automatically accepted it. Then my eyes locked with hers. This wasn't about blame... she wanted, no needed this from Master. I glanced up at Him and he knew. He wasn't going to punish her for not being at the front door when we arrived two days early; it was only when she stated as such. What I was witnessing was a dance, a waltz of sorts, between Master and submissive. He knew exactly how much and how hard to deliver each stinging assault.

My eyes focused back on Rochelle and I was jealous. She was enjoying the mix of pain and pleasure just as I had in New York. Even better was that she just taught me a valuable lesson - How to get what I needed from Master when He wasn't going to do as such. He may know how hard to push me, more than I ever knew, but when? I could always hint. 

Master had finished with Rochelle's punishment and moved in front of her. "I want your mouth."

Rochelle sat up and her hands eagerly went to His pants. She unbuttoned, unzipped and had His cock out in a blink of an eye. She caressed His manhood briefly before her mouth opened and took in the head. She used her tongue around the shaft as she suckled, allowing saliva to coat all around. Her head then bobbed forward and back and then forward again, picking up speed and depth with each movement.

Master's hand entangled into her hair and He thrust; penetrating her mouth and down her throat until her nose was buried in His hair. She smiled. He pulled back and repeated, every insertion more violent than the last. 

I knew the instant Master came. His back arched and He let loose a guttural sound. Rochelle took it all, not allowing a single drop to escape her lips. When He pulled out, she swallowed everything in a single gulp. Such a remarkable woman. 

Master put His hand to Rochelle's head again, but this time it was in the most loving manner possible. His fingers laced with her auburn mane and His smile was one of affection. She pressed her head against His palm and reciprocated with a smile of her own. I felt like I was intruding on their tender moment.

Master quickly straightened up His appearance and turned to the couch. "As you know, this is Andrea. She will be staying in the guest room for the foreseeable future."

"Of course Master," Rochelle stood. "I'll show her to her room and then I'll prepare lunch. I'm sure that after your flight, you must be hungry. "

"That sounds wonderful," Master sat and opened up a newspaper that was lying on the coffee table.

Rochelle looked at me, "Follow me."

I had known where it was but reveled in being in Rochelle's presence. Despite her reddened ass, she walked stoically in front of me. With an arm gesture, she allowed me to enter the room first. 

"Congratulations." I turned and Rochelle had the warmest smile. She took the two steps toward me with outstretched arms and gave me a firm hug. "I always delight in meeting Master's other submissives."

I tentatively put my arms around the naked woman, the swell of her tits pressing against me. "Thanks, but why congratulations?"

"For finally accepting who you are," Rochelle pulled away. "And don't be so shy around me. From now on, we are going to see a lot of each other."

Her openness stunned me. She knew what my being here meant and didn't seem to care. "You don't mind?"

"Mind?" Rochelle giggled. "No, I'm excited. When I met Master, He was just starting out in this lifestyle. He was so passionate, I couldn't help but be drawn to Him. He actually showed me that I was on the wrong side. You see, I was a dominant, or trying to be. But He saw through me and I became His submissive. Submitting to Him was the best choice I ever made. But I also knew He was already helping other women. I may have been one of the first, but I wasn't going to be the last. I had a decision to make. Accept Master for who He was or find another. I loved Him too much to let go so I supported Him. I helped every woman He did. Then Charlie came around."

Charlie. I completely forgot about him. How do I explain why I am now living in his home? What if he catches me with his Father? 

Rochelle must have read my thoughts. "Don't worry about Charlie," she smiled. "I have kept this from him for nineteen years. Not that I'm ashamed, I'm not, it's just that we tried different ways to explain to him the various lifestyles people live, but he's always so conservative."

I laughed. She definitely knew her son. 

"Anyways, I miss the camaraderie with the other girls. Oh! That reminds me, if you're interested, I do go to a girl's night once a month with a few other submissives. You're more than welcome to attend."

"Really?" I exasperated.

Rochelle's tits were swaying gently as she appeared as if she was on a spring with the excitement she was radiating. "Yeah, we talk, swap stories, I usually come home desperately needing Master's attention. It's fun."

I giggled, more over her appearance than her words. "I'd love to."

Rochelle gave a head nod toward the door, "C'mon, we need to make lunch."

I followed her until she stopped at the doorjamb.

Rochelle looked over her shoulder back at me, "You should consider changing your attire to match mine." She then smiled, "Unless you want to get punished. But I don't recommend it. Master will come down hard for violating such a basic rule. He may still since you didn't strip when you walked in the door."

I gulped. Damn, I wasn't here more than five minutes before I broke a rule.

"Don't worry about it. Without knowing the rules, you couldn't break them. I'll explain them to you while we make lunch. That's my job."

I smiled as I stripped my clothes.

Rochelle told me everything that would be an infraction while we made an array of sandwiches for lunch. She also went over certain affinities Master has: hobbies, interests, foods. I learned so much from this woman. 

I was truly in awe of Rochelle. She was smart, beautiful, understanding... I knew I wanted to be like her in every way. She was so comfortable with herself. 

When we were finished, we set the table with three plates and colas. We then went into the living room and Rochelle took the lead.

"Master, lunch is served."

Master folded up the newspaper and placed it neatly back on the coffee table. He walked past us and we followed.

While we ate sandwiches there was an open discussion. Rochelle spoke of everything going on with the household - the plumber will be by tomorrow to fix the clogged sink that couldn't be fixed with a plunger or Drano - and Charlie got an A on his last biology assignment. No shock there. Master spoke of our time in New York and what happened at His club. It was like an ordinary couple discussing the everyday occurrences. Except Rochelle and I were nude. 

Afterward, Rochelle and I cleaned up and Master went back into the living room.

I shook my head as I placed a dish in the dishwasher, "That was interesting." I'm not sure what I was expecting and I wasn't disappointed, far from it actually. I still wanted this life. I still wanted Master. I still wanted to learn from Rochelle. But I still felt disbelief at the conversation. A pleasant disbelief. They reminded me of my parents. It just proved that Master was right; I am not two people, but one. We all are. And we are all normal people with the same problems regardless of which lifestyle we live.

Rochelle chuckled, "Not everything can be sexually charged, life still happens." She then put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed, "But we're also honest with ourselves with what we enjoy. And oh what pleasure that honesty brings us."

In that instant, Rochelle made me not care in the slightest about what anyone could say about how I chose to live. I am happy. She made me comfortable with being me.

Rochelle turned on the dishwasher and grabbed a cup of hot tea. It wasn't for her.

"Master needs this because of the instance with Ray. Despite how it worked out, I know he is still upset by it." 

She took it into the living room, placed it on the coffee table, and then knelt on the floor next to Master. I did the same on His other side. He had smooth jazz music filtering softly through the air. Master just sat there, listening and sipping His tea. A half hour passed until He set the cup back down on the table and turned off the stereo with the remote. I glanced up and saw a faint smile. 

"That was perfect." Master looked down on us, meeting both of our eyes. "It's time to enlighten Charles about how we live. I know we tried being subtle in our attempts in the past, but he's old enough to receive a more direct explanation. He deserves that from his parents."

"I couldn't agree more," Rochelle nodded.

That was great for them, but the thought scared me. There was only three people I worried about telling about how I wanted to live my life - my Mom, my Dad, and my only friend, Charlie. I wasn't worried about what they said as so much of what they might do. I still wanted all of them in my life.

"I want you ladies to stay in my office and I will call you individually when I am ready for you."

"Yes Master," we both spoke in unison as we stood.

When in the privacy of His office, I gazed at Rochelle. She did not exude the confidence she always exhibited. She was nibbling her lower lip, her eyebrows were furrowed, and her body was fidgeting.

I couldn't help but ask, "Are you all right?" 

Rochelle's eyes showed fear, "I know Master is right, we shouldn't keep secrets from Charlie, but I don't want to lose my son."

I didn't know what to say, so I simply wrapped my arms around her in a heartfelt hug.

It was then we heard the front door open. We faced each other as we pressed our ears to the door.

"Charles," Master started, "I believe it's time we had a talk."

"Yes, Sir."

"You know, there was a time you called me Dad." There was a pause. "I want you to speak candidly, son. There will be no punishment from this, I promise."

I heard the thud Charlie's book bag made on the ground. "I stopped calling you that when you became more demanding."

"I understand. But I became that way out of frustration. It wasn't the best of responses, but it hurt when I couldn't get you to understand something that I am so passionate about. But that changes today, Charlie."

Master used Charlie's preferred name for the first time since I've started seeing Charlie.

"Is this about lifestyles again," Charlie's tone was one of 'here we go again.' In my mind, I could picture his head falling back and the sigh escaping his lips. I've certainly saw that more than few times.

"This time will be different, Charlie."

"How?"

"It just will be."

"Whatever, let's get this over with."

"I'm a dominant, Charlie."

"A what?"

"I told you this time will be different," I heard Master chuckle. "I take a woman and lead her through her desires. It can be done using tools like paddles, whips, and canes for punishment. Rope and handcuffs can be used for bondage. There are a myriad of ways to ensure a woman gets the experience she not only wants, but needs to be fulfilled sexually. In return, they give me all they have to give."

After that explanation, I felt this conversation can go one of two ways: either Charlie will ask poignant questions or whine and say 'Ew, I don't want to hear about your sexual preferences.'

"You mentioned punishment... Do women really like that?"

"Many do. Many men as well."

"So what you're saying is that you control women."

Master laughed, "There's a lot more to it than that. Usually when two people engage in these acts, there is an agreement beforehand about how far to go with each other. Not to brag, but I'm actually good at noticing the needs of the woman without discussion. I can also spot someone who is denying themselves from their desires and not knowing it. Take Andrea for example. I knew it from the moment I first saw her. Complete denial."

I blushed.

Rochelle gave a slight giggle, "We've all been there Andrea."

"Sir, with all due respect, but I think I know my friend better than you."

"You do? Let's see about that. Andrea, I'm ready for you."

The moment of truth had arrived. Rochelle gave me a reaffirming smile. I took a deep breath and exited the office. The look on Charlie's face was one of shock. Eyes wide, mouth agape shock. I moved quickly and knelt in position next to Master.

Charlie looked at me and then his Father and then back at me and then finally back on his Father. "She's naked."

"Yes, I find a true woman's beauty lies in nudity. Don't you?"

Charlie didn't answer. He instead shook his head. "Is it always like this in your... lifestyle?"

Master patted Charlie's knee, a happy expression adorning his face, "No, and such an excellent question. Generally, the lifestyle doesn't leave the bedroom, or wherever the couple decides to have their fun. Others choose to live the lifestyle fully. Each person, whether they be dominant or submissive, come to their own terms. Andrea is actually an exception because she was determined for me to be her Master and I already have a rule agreement in this house."

Charlie's eyes narrowed, "You mean Andrea wanted this? Wanted to be with you?"

"I tried to show her there are others that can give her what she needs, but it didn't work out as I planned."

Charlie sat in thought for a few seconds, "Wait, you said you already have a set of rules for this house. That means..."

"Yes, your Mother is my submissive. Rochelle, your turn." Master then looked Charlie dead in the eyes, "She's dressed in the same manner as Andrea, so if that upsets you, speak now."

"Uh... I... I don't know."

"Well, we'll give it a shot. If you have problems we'll figure something out, but I assure you that she has an exhibitionist side. She truly enjoys being nude."

The three of us glanced to the hall to see Rochelle's head peeking around the corner. Her eyes were going from Master to Charlie. Master nodded. Her posture suddenly straightened and she walked into view. I knew she was nervous, but she still moved gracefully until she knelt in front of Master.

Charlie's eyes narrowed, "Mom?"

Rochelle's hands cupped her son's, "This is who I am, Charlie. I assure you this is what makes me happy. Master and I have tried to tell you indirectly several times before. Are you okay?"

Charlie gazed into her eyes. I knew what he was seeing: her openness, her honesty in those words, but most of all her fear of his denial.

He smiled, "I'm fine Mom. I'm glad to know you're happy." Charlie then looked at me. I knew his question without him speaking it.

Master had not given permission to Rochelle to speak, but I assume they had 'being able to speak to her son' in their agreement. I did not have such a luxury, but I had to quell his curiosity, regardless if it meant punishment. "Charlie, I'm happy. Actually, it's more than that. It's perfect." 

Charlie seemed to peer at my soul. After a moments time he concluded, "I believe you." He then snickered as he looked to Master, "So that prostitute you got me for my eighteenth birthday?"

"Lucinda's a dominant I trained," Master chuckled. "I was hoping she would gauge your interest in the lifestyle, maybe give you a few pointers if you were genuinely curious."

Charlie shook his head, "I declined because I didn't want my first time to be with a hooker." He then took in the scene of his Mother and me in front of Master. His eyes became serious, "Dad, I understand now and I would love for you to teach me."