Mild-Mannered Man Transformed

Squatting down, she worked her way up from his feet back toward his throbbing cock. The rough washcloth coarsely cleansed the shaft of his cock, his scrotum, and then was worked through his ass crack. The sum of these actions nearly caused him to blow his load prematurely. Batson took Veronica by her wrists indicating that the scrubbing was enough for now. Veronica then began to rinse the soap off Batson's nether-region and down the drain.

As she was finishing toweling him off, there came a knock at the door. Room service had evidently arrived. Steve picked up his pants, pulled out his wallet, and told Veronica to go let the room service waiter in with the cart. Steve then handed her a twenty and told her to charge the meal to his room bill, but to tip the waiter five dollars.

Batson reiterated with one addition. "Let him in, give him a little kiss on the cheek, and give him the tip." Batson said it, and, as Veronica walked off without the slightest bit of protest or inhibition and naked as the day she was born, he wondered if he might not regret the fact that he didn't tell her to put a towel on at least. This was the Bible belt after all. What if he happened to get a hard-core Bible-thumping room service waiter? What if the guy freaked out? Worse still, he began to wonder whether you had to be an adult to be a room service waiter. What if it was a teenager, Batson didn't want to contribute to anyone's delinquency- besides his own. What if it was not a waiter, but, rather, a waitress? Would that be more or less likely to be problematic? The kiss on the cheek might freak either a waitress or a waiter out. With these thoughts racing across his mind like Mercedes down the Autobahn, he found himself in uncharted territory of simultaneous terror and thrill. He was getting into his role as much as his slave girl was into hers, but there was no indication that she was sharing the butterflies that were lodged in the pit of his stomach.

The racing heartbeat that pounded in his head and chest lasted only an instant before his fears were laid to rest. Batson could see through the partially opened bathroom door as the waiter followed Veronica into the room pushing the cloth-draped cart into the room. The waiter looked to be at least in his twenties, but was more likely in his thirties. Furthermore, the slight glance Batson got as he distractedly tied the belt of the hotel's terry-cloth robe around his waist gave the impression that the man was unfazed by Veronica's nudity. Actually, he seemed to be ogling the slave girl's ass.

Batson poked his head around the corner to see that the waiter's back was to him, and there was no indication that the waiter realized Steve was in the room. Steve watched as Veronica leaned in to give the waiter more of a sustained kiss on the cheek than a peck. As she was shorter, she had to put her hand on the man's other check and pull his head toward her as she simultaneously went up on her toes, all the while her bare breasts were pressing against the man's torso. The waiter then timidly rubbed Veronica's upper arm with the flat of his hand. Batson was amused that it was exactly the kind of conservative maneuver that he might have made- at least what he would have done two hours ago before his confidence began to shoot through the roof under Veronica's ministrations. It was non-threatening, but was still an act of reciprocation. The touch on the arm was a way of confirming that he was comfortable with what had happened and would probably not be adverse to things going further, but it did so in a way that did not, despite the fact that the girl was naked as a jay-bird and kissing him, appear aggressive. It was like trying to avoid frightening away a dog that was licking your face. For an instant Batson thought it was a little lame and pathetic, but then he realized the man had a job to be concerned with and had no idea what was happening. Batson also realized that this girl, ironically given that she was the slave, was breaking him out of the constraints of his own meek life.

"Do you have change for a twenty?" Veronica asked coyly holding up the money. "I need a five for your tip."

The waiter, looking into a vinyl zip pouch with the hotel's emblem embossed on it, said. "Sorry, sure don't. I should have refilled, but I've been so slammed today."

Batson was wondering if the waiter was playing a strategic gambit to see if he could get the whole Jackson, if he was just trying to drag out the moment in the presence of the naked girl, or whether he was sincere. "How's it going?" Batson called out loudly as he exited the bathroom wearing the robe.

The waiter experienced an involuntary spasm of sorts as he turned to see the man who he probably assumed was a furious husband or boyfriend. Then, as a second thought, he pulled his hand away from Veronica's arm as if the hand was on a stovetop that had been lit. "I was just talking with your wife... girlfriend...." The waiter sputtered as he stepped back to create some distance from Veronica.

Now Batson grew even more emboldened because of the waiter's hapless anxiety "It's OK, she is neither. I just use her for sex." Batson stated matter-of-factly.

Relieved, the waiter said. "Ahh... I got ya. But you might not want to go around advertising it. This is kind of an upscale place, and they don't like having... ladies of the evening, here." The young man had trailed off presumably because he wasn't certain what to call Veronica right in front of her face. Batson could imagine the list running through the man's mind ("prostitute", "hooker", "whore"), but each seemed more offensive than the last, until he settled on the hopelessly anachronistic term of art 'lady of the evening.'

"Oh, you misunderstand. I don't pay her. I just fuck her." Steve replied.

The man looked at Batson with stunned incredulity. Batson could tell the waiter's mind was locked in a simultaneous struggle to figure out whether he was being pranked, or, if not, how he might go about getting such a fuck toy for himself.

"Master, he does not have change for a twenty, so I cannot give him a five dollar tip as you require." Veronica said, staring down at the floor. She was clearly unhappy that she could not fully comply with her master's wishes- even though it was not her fault.

Batson could see as the guy was putting the signed bill away and emptying the cart's contents onto the small wooden table that he was about to leave without a tip. Having this story would probably make it worth his while. However, before the waiter could take his leave, Batson spoke up. "What if she gives you a five dollar blowjob for a tip?" Batson nodded toward Veronica. Given what he had seen so far, Batson was not terribly concerned that Veronica would flip out over being pimped out as a 20% tip. Besides, if she did, he would just give the guy the twenty and make his apologies all around. However, on the contrary, Veronica perked up at the offer that would allow her to make things right with her master. She smiled expectantly at the waiter, hoping he would let her carry out her command.

"OK..." The waiter said sheepishly. He was probably hoping that he was not implicitly agreeing to anything else, like to be on camera or to have Steve somehow participate. Ultimately, however, what man could turn down a blowjob?

Batson then laid down the rules. "There are limits to what five dollars gets you with my slave. It's one dollar per minute, so you get only five minutes or until you cum- whichever comes first, and she will quit exactly when your five minutes are up whether you've gotten off or not. Time starts when she puts your cock in her mouth. Also, and I grant you this is a drag, you have to wear one of these." Batson said, holding up a condom that he had pulled out of a side pocket of his travel bag. Batson thought it would be an interesting experiment to see if Veronica could suck the man off through a condom in five minutes or less. "Those are the conditions. Do you accept?"

The waiter, by the grin on his face, was quite happy with the deal, and enthusiastically replied "That works for me."

As Batson walked past he handed the condom to Veronica, and then, putting his hand on the back of her neck, he pulled her in for a rough deep tongue kiss. After breaking it off, Steve smacked her with his open palm on her bare ass-cheek, and turned to return to the yellow chair.

Veronica went down to one knee, and, taking both of the waiter's hips in her hands, pivoted him around slightly to the point at which her Master would have an unobstructed side view of her cock-swallowing activities. She unzipped the waiter's fly and reached in gently maneuvering his member out between the sharp brass zipper teeth of his uniform pants. The waiter's cock was already semi-erect, as it had been since the panic of being walked in on had worn off. She gave it a few pumps with her hand and a small kiss on the shaft's underside to get it fully erect. Batson noted that the waiter's cock was only about 6 inches long, but was fairly thick. The slave adeptly tore open the condom packet and pulled the rubber out with a finger. Dropping the packaging, she returned one hand to the waiter's shaft to keep him primed. In an act of practiced virtuosity, Veronica was able to put the rubber on mostly with one hand by putting it over the cock head and rolling it down with her fingers. She then used the other hand to get it all of the way down to the base.

Batson was mesmerized as Veronica swallowed most of the man's dick in a single swift motion. She proceeded to suck the waiter with animalistic intensity, and got off several bobs before Batson thought to start the clock. She regularly changed her pace and the depth at which she took the waiter's manhood. Sometimes she would linger while sucking vigorously only the underside of the cockhead, and other times she would switch to deep-throating that would take her lips to the fly of the man's black slacks. When she used the latter technique, she reached around and grabbed a butt cheek in each hand so that she could more fiercely impale her mouth with the man's hardness. Batson thought she might hurt her neck because she threw herself into the task with such relish.

A little over three minutes into getting world-class head, the waiter tensed and started to convulse as he spunked into the rubber. Veronica did not stop, or even miss a beat, as the warm jizm filled the prophylactic. She kept on sucking with abandon. The waiter put one hand gently under her chin and the other on the back of her head and tried to ease her mouth off his member before it went totally flaccid. He seemed to be concerned that the condom would come off and spill his seed all over the carpet. "Keep the change.... I'm good." The waiter said, as he tried good-naturedly to get her to complete the act.

After enjoying the waiter's discomfort a second too long, Batson said "You may stop now. You have pleased me."

Veronica immediately took her mouth off the man's member, and was careful not to spill the jizm on the floor as the condom slid from his now almost entirely limp dick.

"Take him to the bathroom, and clean him up." Batson commanded.

Veronica held the surprisingly full condom in her left hand and held that hand under the waiter's dick to catch any drips. It seemed as though she didn't want to risk irritating her Master with a mess. With her right hand in the small of his back, she guided the waiter toward the lavatory.

Batson heard the sink come on, and then the intermittent sound of water hitting the sink pan as his slave, no doubt, washed the man's cock clean. A few moments later the waiter said a quick "thanks" as he grabbed his cart and wheeled it toward the door, and then clumsily worked it out into the hall before closing the door behind himself. The sink was still running, and there were sounds of activity in the bathroom. Veronica was still cleaning up.

"Come here." Batson said as he heard the sink turn off. Veronica scurried out of the bathroom at his command.

As she began to kneel at his feet, he said: "Remain standing, and come closer." She did as she was commanded- standing right next to the arm of the chair. "Widen your stance." Again she complied. Batson reached between her legs and rubbed his fingers the length of her slit from right below the bottom of her trimmed pubic patch to her tight anal sphincter. As he did, he noted her wetness and the slightest, almost imperceptible, downward lurch. It was almost, but not quite, a full-fledged buckling of the knees. As suspected, Veronica was sloppy wet with horniness. When Batson retracted his hand, his fingers were slick with her warm juices.

"You'll need to clean this up." Batson held his hand, which smelled of her femininity, up. She started to turn, ostensibly to go get a wet towel from the bathroom. "No! Do it with your mouth." At that command, his slave turned, went down to her knees, and began to lap at his hand. She then sucked each finger and thumb into her mouth one at a time. She took her time, and Batson enjoyed dominating her. As Batson leaned back in his chair, the slit of his robe was pulled opened and his erect member found its way through the front of his robe. Veronica eyed his cock with calm anticipation.

"So I see you enjoyed yourself like a little whore, as you sucked that man's cock." Batson commented.

"Yes, Master." The slave said meekly. She was not certain whether she was being scolded or applauded.

"Did I tell you that you were to enjoy it? You were just supposed to be a good little fuck toy and let him satisfy himself in your mouth." Batson was new to dirty talk, and had never spoken to anyone this way. He was not in the slightest bit angered in reality, but, the raw power of being able to tell the girl under what circumstance she could enjoy sex or not – something that was utterly autonomic and beyond her control- was the ultimate aphrodisiac. He was nearly trembling in anticipation of taking her with animalistic force, and he found that the harsher he played the character, the more energized and alive he began to feel. In the parlance of the geeks downstairs, he was "going over to the dark side", and getting more aroused the more he did.

Veronica was now looking down at the ground, rather than being fixated on his cock as before. She responded wanly. "No, Master, you did not tell me that I could enjoy it. I am sorry. But, Master, if you will allow me to speak. Your sex box here [she pointed at her pussy] got horny wet from bathing you. I couldn't help it. Scrubbing your naked body is what really made this pleasure toy of yours so slick. But, if you don't want me to enjoy myself, I will try my best not to." She said meekly.

Batson whispered intimately into her ear as he pulled her head close to his face. "Oh, you won't be able to control yourself with me, because I am going to fuck you so hard and so long. First you'll feel good, then great, then sore, and then you'll want me to stop, but you'll just have to keep taking it until you're so full of my jizm that you're oozing from every hole on your body."

Steve then remembered the food that was cooling on the small table. He got up, walked over to the table, lifted the stainless steel plate cover off, and then sat down in the ladder-back chair. With his fork he scooped up a large dollop of mashed potato, and, moving his roll onto his dinner plate, plopped the potato down onto the vacated bread plate. He added bits of the entrée and vegetable as well; though not with any great care, but, rather, as one might fill a dog's bowl. He then set the small plate down on the floor next to his chair. "Eat that. You'll need some energy." He commanded.

Veronica walked right up, got on her knees and elbows, and began to lap up the mixture of food. Batson watched with amusement for a moment before he began to nibble at the food on his plate. He was not particularly hungry. He occasionally stroked his hand along the slave's naked back to pet her. It did not take her long to clean the plate of its contents despite using nothing but her tongue and lips.

"Are you still hungry?" Batson asked.

"Only a little bit, Master." Veronica said looking up, but not looking him in the eye.

"Help yourself." Steve said this as he precariously balanced a morsel of meat on his cockhead.

She engulfed his meat with her mouth letting her lips tighten around the head of his cock. She sucked once and dragged her lips off his cockhead. Once his member was no longer in her mouth, she chewed the meatloaf slowly in her closed mouth.

Some of the sauce had dripped down on the top of his inner thigh. "Clean that up." Batson ordered.

His slave did not need to be told twice. She opened his robe on the pretext of not getting any of the tomato sauce on the bleach-scented white robe, and then ran her tongue over the area getting it entirely clean.

Batson ran the locks of hair that framed her face between his index and middle fingers sweeping it off her cheek. It was a tender action that he followed with one that could not have been more diametrically opposed. He moved the hand that had caressed her hair around to the back of her head; then, cupping the other hand under her chin; he pushed her mouth down onto to his cock. Batson's hands were positioned like the waiter's were earlier, but instead of trying to gently extract his member, he was using his hands to keep her head in place as he penetrated it with his rock-hard member. He was thrilled by the lack of need for niceties. Without the slightest bit of the inhibition that he would have with a girlfriend, he pulled his slave's mouth onto his shaft and began to mouth-fuck her intensely. He might have worried about pulling her hair or bruising her neck or jaw if it were not for one thing: she was sucking with such enthusiasm.

While it took little effort to drag Veronica's mouth onto his dick, he did have to pinch her nose shut and pull to get her to release his meat from her mouth. He had not cum, and it had taken every bit of his willpower to convince himself to hold out. Once she had removed her mouth from his member, he leaned forward in the chair, and, cradling her head in both his hands, put his mouth close to her ear and said: "Slave, it's time for me to inspect your wetness again." He then stood up, and, pulling her up by clasping a nipple between each of his thumb and index finger knuckle pincers, got her to a standing position.

He backed her up to the bed by guiding her with hands on her shoulders. Then, with the upper edge of the mattress below her butt-cheeks, he shoved her shoulders hard, which abruptly sent her bouncing onto the mattress. He leaned in and buried his face in her pussy. He tongued her wet cunt with gusto. He lapped the length of her slit, and then stabbed his tongue several times into the depths of her canal. His face, from his chin to both cheeks, was glistening with her juices. It was animalistic, like a lion tucking into a downed gazelle. He then got some focus and began to suck, nibble, and run the tip of his tongue across the sensitive spot on her clit right under the hood. Soon he had her exactly where he wanted her. She was about to boil over in an intense orgasm. But as he felt the tremors that indicated it was nearing, as her breath was beginning to become spasmodic, he abruptly quit. Batson loved eating pussy, and despite the fact that it didn't seem consistent with his role as Master, he did it just to take her to the edge in order to leave her assured that he was in control and that her orgasms would come only at his pleasure.

Batson walked around the bed taking in the view of her naked body and that pretty face, as he lustfully but lightly stroked his member to keep it ready. He then lay down next to Veronica on his back. "Ride me, slave." He gave the simple command.