Lacrimosa played on my stereo as I sat in the dark sipping neat Scotch whisky, pondering what had happened in the preceding few hours.
Earlier, I had gotten a phone call from my old friend Karm. His last name was something unpronounceable that he claimed was Hungarian, but I'm not really sure of that, just as I'm not sure of a lot of things about him.
"I need a favor," he said. "I have an out of state hook up in town, and I'm not going to be able to get to her tonight. I'm up to my ass in an emergency to a client. Can you take care of her tonight?"
A little free sex? Why not? What could go wrong?
"Sure," I replied. "Where is she?"
He told me her name was Lana, and she was at The Windsor.
"Just one thing," he said. "She expects BDSM, and she wants to be humiliated. Is that alright?"
I thought about it for a moment.
"I suppose so," I said with some hesitation. BDSM has never been my thing, and Karm knows it. He and I have talked about it before. He says it's like playing a game, like role playing, and the role you're playing is a sadistic asshole.
"Also, she can orgasm on command. The command is 'come, bitch'."
That she could orgasm on command excited me, but the command, not so much. But I suppose I could act like a sadistic asshole for a night.
The Windsor is one of those older hotels that was originally built around a central courtyard, which was later enclosed with a roof and turned into a large indoor atrium. I went to her floor, walked around the balcony, and knocked on her door, putting on the character I had created for myself, a stern, cocksure, sadistic asshole. I settled my face into a mild mean-face, not quite a scowl.
A small, slightly chunky brunette with a wedge haircut and hazel eyes, dressed in a red and white vertical striped cotton shirt, and a knee length denim skirt answered the door.
"Scott?" She asked.
"Yes," I answered. "Karm asked me to take care of you this evening."
She invited me in. The room had two beds, one of which she had set up with wrist and ankle restraints, a suitcase which seemed to be packed half with clothing and half with BDSM toys, and the desk which held several books and looked as if she had been studying. She had an open Diet Coke on the desk, but I saw no sign of food.
"Have you eaten?" I asked.
"No," she replied.
"No what."
"No, Master."
For a moment I hesitated. That was remarkably easy.
"Come," I said, and walked to the door.
I walked into the walkway, and she struggled to pull on a pair of sandals as she followed me.
We headed out of the hotel to a Thai restaurant just down the street, where we sat in a discreet booth in the back. When the elderly owner lady, an actual Thai woman, took our order I placed it for both of us.
"Pad Thai for two," I said. I looked at Lana. "Hot. And two large iced teas."
While we waited, I told her to tell me about herself. It was a sad tale, really. Married young, now divorced, mother of one, abusive ex-husband in prison for beating a man to death in a fight, gained a lot of weight, lost a lot of weight, going to school for a psychology degree. For myself, my heart went out to her as a survivor of what she described. In character, I remained stern and uninterested. It felt odd being this person.
A large platter of pad thai arrived, with two plates, to be served family style, with two glasses and a large pitcher of iced tea. I served both of us, seeing the red chili flakes on the dish and knowing it would be nice and spicy hot.
"Eat," I told her.
She ate without complaint, though she did blush and sweat, and drink a lot of iced tea. The portion size was just right to follow the Asian tradition of eating only until one is about 80% full. As we finished I called for the check.
"We can't let good tea go to waste," I told her, pushing her glass in front of her. She drank it. I pushed my glass in front of her, and she drank it. I poured the remains of the pitcher into the glass, and she drank that as well. She must have drunk close to half a gallon of iced tea.
As we left for her hotel room an idea formed in my mind. My character chuckled. I cringed, but I did not break character. Part of me was thrilled, the other part was horrified. If she really wanted to be humiliated then I knew just how.
As we entered her room there was an awkward moment when she obviously didn't know what to do. She looked to me for direction, expectantly. I sat in the swivel chair at the desk and looked at her.
"Take off your clothes," I told her. "Slowly," I corrected as she snapped to comply.
She unbuttoned her shirt one button at a time, letting the shirt slip off of her shoulders and down her arms, placing it neatly on the bed. Then her skirt, which she unzipped, worked over her hips, slid down her legs, and stepped out of one leg at a time, placing it next to her shirt. Next came her bra, which she unhooked, and slid down her arms, letting her prodigious breasts hang free. Last, her white cotton panties, which she slid down her legs and stepped out of. Now nude, she stood awkwardly, again awaiting instruction.
"Come closer and let me look at you," I said.
She stepped closer and stood directly in front of me.
Standing about 5'4", she had large, saggy breasts, stretch marks on her abdomen, and loose skin common among people who were once obese but had lost a lot of weight.
"Turn around, slowly." She did.
Her back told the same story: A formerly fat person who was no longer so, but wore the scars of the experience. I have known women who wore such a body with confidence, but Lana did not.
"Come here so I can touch you."
She had no body hair, and seemed to shave everything except her head. I started touch her at her collar bones and ran my hands down her breasts, running each finger one at a time over her nipples, which made her gasp. I continued over her belly, and down to her smooth pussy, which lacked even a hint of stubble. While I did not find her attractive to look at, she was delightfully soft and smooth to touch.
She delighted in my touch, rather like a cat. Or, perhaps more like a dog. Cats want you to please them, whereas pleasing you is all dogs want to do, and she obviously, desperately wanted to please.
I had her turn around again and felt her back in the same way, and she practically purred. I had her bend over and show me her ass, spreading her cheeks so I could see the bud of her anus, which was scrupulously clean. I had her turn around again, and show me her pussy, opening her lips to show me her inner labia, inside her labial fold, and the opening to her vagina, which glistened wetly. I reached out and flicked her clitoris, which made her jump and gasp, and her pussy twitch.
"Go lie down on the bad with the restraints," I told her.
"Master, may I go to the bathroom first?" She asked.
"You may not."
She lay on the bed, and put her wrists toward the restraints she had prepared to receive them. I buckled her wrists into the restraints, and then her ankles, taking care to make sure the restraints were tight enough to hold her, but not so tight they hurt her. They had wear marks showing that they had been used for this purpose before, and that guided me to the correct adjustments.
I looked into her bag of toys and found a large feather. I used the feather to tickle her, first on her nose, then her throat and ears, moving down to her nipples, her belly, the insides of her thighs, and on to the soles of her feet, which made her giggle and squirm.
I moved back up the insides of her thighs and very gently, almost imperceptibly, over the outer lips of her pussy, which made her shudder and gasp.
I found this incredibly erotic, and despite my misgivings at the situation, I got an erection.
I put the feather down and undressed, making sure she could see me the whole time.
The next toy I pulled out of her bag was a mini vibe. I repeated the pattern I had used with the feather. When it touched her nipples she gasped and squirmed. When I put it into her navel I could practically see the sensations ripple through her body. I moved the mini vibe down her belly to her pubic bone, where I pressed it so the vibrations conducted through her. She moaned.
I put the mini vibe directly on her clitoris, and she shrieked and bucked from the over intense sensation. I moved the vibe down and ran it around her labia to the opening of her vagina. Then to her perineum, then around her anus, which made her moan and squirm. I repeated this pattern several times, clit, labia, vagina, perineum, anus, until she was almost crying.
"Master, may I come, please?"
"Not yet."
