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.