Thank you again, Mrs. A, for sharing you wonderful experiences with me!
This story is the sequel to your other story, The Wonderful Magic of a Web Camera
Nancy returned to her office after a very long business meeting and noticed her cell phone indicating four voice messages. The first two were matter-of-fact office calls (nothing major); the third was her husband reminding her they had dinner reservations and theater tickets that evening. The fourth message left her cold and shivering.
"Listen, bimbo slut. Don't try to hide from me. I know where you are. I traced your cell number. I checked into the hotel down the street from your office. Meet me here at 4 pm sharp. And don't even think of being cute with me. If you are not here at 4 pm, by 4:15 pm I will march into your office with your pictures and videos. Room 415. Bye."
Nancy needed no explanations. For weeks she had been having the most marvelous phone sex with Fred. He had forced her to masturbate over the phone. He had forced her to leave her laptop on and have intercourse with her husband while Fred watched them on the web camera. He would call her late at night, while her husband was sleeping, and make her masturbate again for him, directing her exactly what he wanted her to do. And he would order her to pose nude for him over the weekends, sending him pictures in the poses and lingerie he told her to wear. Now she was trapped.
A few minutes before 4 she bravely marched into the hotel, made her way to the elevator, wished for the best, and walked on very wobbly legs down the hall to room 415. The door was slightly ajar. She let herself in. She had never met Fred before and her first glimpse of him was that he was much taller, stronger, younger and powerful than he had seemed over the phone.
Trembling like a leaf, unsure what to say or do, the first words that stumbled out of her mouth were, "What would you like me to do?"
"Strip, slut."
That was a real shock! Not even a hello, not you-are-pretty, not thank-you-for-coming, not even a nice-to-finally-meet-you, he just told her to strip naked.
Fumbling with her buttons, she finally got off her blouse and skirt.
"Everything, slut."
This was the first time Nancy was undressing for another man besides her husband. She was too self-conscious of her thin body, her 32-A breasts, and her almost total lack of pubic hair. But she undressed as told.
"Fold everything neatly, slut."
Obeying, she started to look around the room. It was the usual hotel suite, large closet, flat-screen TV, plush carpet and fluffy pillows, and in the middle, the usual king-size bed. Except that Fred had placed some things on it already. And on the dresser, Fred had a huge pitcher of iced tea, a tall glass and a straw.
Nancy stood totally naked in the middle of the room, the epitome of a bumbling novice, arms hanging loosely at her side, thighs closed.
"So?" she asked.
Fred did not bother getting out of the chair. "So? So, that only a whore goes to a hotel room with a total stranger. That is so."
Nancy blushed and shook with fear.
He motioned to the bathroom. Nancy looked. It was the usual, large hotel suite bathroom. He motioned she should look again. It seemed that Fred had attached some sort of shower curtain bar or something across the top of the door.
He stood up. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the door of the bathroom. "Wait here, slut."
Going back to the bedroom, he picked up her pantyhose, returned, and without saying a word, he tied her wrists up on the bar, arms spread apart. And once he had her tied up, he went back, picked up her pile of neatly folded clothes, and put them at her feet. The last trip to the bedroom was when Fred returned with a blindfold. Putting it over her eyes, he suddenly mellowed. "Nancy, love of my life, wetness of my dreams, and throbbing of my days, I love you so much, darling!"
Nancy felt herself blushing from head to toe. "I love you, too" she lied.
Fred slapped her ass. It stung. It felt terribly good. He slapped her again, "Nancy, I know you are lying. But I still love you!"
She quivered.
He continued in his soft, velvet voice. "Here is what I am going to do. I am going to explore you. Every time I touch a part of your body, you will tell me what it is. If you answer correctly, I will kiss it and give you a sip of tea. If not, well your lovely derrière can surely take a lot more spanking. And you cannot say anything unless I ask you."
He touched her lightly on her neck. Goose bumps covered her body. "What is this, my love?"
"My neck."
He kissed her neck and approached the glass with the straw to her mouth. "Sip, Nancy, take a sip."
Her throat was parched with fear. She gulped down more than a few sips.
He touched her lightly on her shoulders. Goose bumps again covered her body. "What is this, my love?" His voice was smooth, even, velvety soft. Just as soft as when he would call her and make her masturbate for him over the phone.
"My shoulders."
Again, Fred gave her a soft kiss and more tea.
On he moved, stopping at her arms, her hands, her armpits, and her elbows. Every touch, a kiss and more tea, Fred so affectionate and so caring with Nancy.
His hands moved up he spine, over her shoulders, and rested on her flat chest. "And this, Nancy?"
"My breasts."
Fred slapped her derrière with such force that Nancy let out a scream and struggled to free her hands to protect herself.
"Let's try again. What are these?"
Nancy was totally confused. She knew where his hands were. She simply did not know that Fred was expecting for an answer. She finally blurted out, "I do not have breasts. That is my flat chest."
"Yes," he softly replied in his velvet voice. He kissed her breasts lightly, giving her more tea to sip.
Omitting her nipples, he worked his way down her tummy, then to her hips. Every part, he touched, she gave the right answer, and he gave her a soft kiss, and more tea.
He touched her nipples. It was ever so light, just the barest of touches. But her nipples are the epicenter of Nancy's sensuality. She moaned and writhed with anticipation. "My nipples!" she called out.
Fred slapped her, harder than he had slapped her before. "Listen, slut, you only talk when I ask you."
Nancy was shaking with terror. Fred moved in front of her. Taking each nipple in one hand, he started to squeeze them, to roll them in his fingers, to pull them apart and away, harder and harder until Nancy felt he was going to tear them off her body. His grip was harsh and unrelenting. Nancy felt her nipples getting raw, their nerve endings exposed. "Describe them, lusty slut."
Nancy quivered, "Those are my nipples. They are raw and tender. They are tiny and hard like cherry pits. They are..."
Her voice trailed off. He picked up where she had left. "They are the center of my attention."
Kissing them lightly in turn, he gave Nancy even more tea to sip.
By now she had gulped down two full glasses. And she felt it. She started to squirm. He stood behind her, kneading her bloated tummy. "Don't worry, Nancy darling, you can take more."
He moved down to her thighs, legs, calves, knees, toes, and ankles. Every part of her that he touched, she correctly [duh] called it by its proper name. Each got a soft kiss and another sip of tea.
The moment she had been dreading finally arrived. Fred's hands slowly made their way up her thighs and stopped atop her femininity. "Now, Nancy my darling, what is this?"
Bravely, she answered, "My pussy."
He slapped her incredibly hard. "Try again, Nancy."
She tried to vocalize the obscene, filthy names he had used when he talked to her, "My cunt."
Again, he slapped her very hard.
Nancy was a total loss.
