Guest fiction: Room 401

I often get comments from frustrated readers who wish I wouldn't end my stories just as things are about to get really hot. I do it in part because of the number of pieces I've read where the author's choice of words snaps me out of it at just the wrong moment (I'd hate it if my writing did that), and also because I personally love being left to finish a story with my own imagination. However, I know this approach isn't for everyone and so I asked my Twitter followers if anyone fancied writing an end to one of my stories. The guest post below was written by J.d.laydon as a follow on from how will she use me?

*****

She had no idea why she was doing this.

He was just a sub, but he paid his money, so that he knew his place.

She had offered him a forfeit for his surprisingly positive performance at their last session. She must be losing her mind to have agreed to this though. She had even let him choose her outfit, which was a waspie, nude stockings with a fully fashioned black back-seam, high heels and a coat. It was a warm spring day and she felt a little foolish.

She clipped across the hotel lobby. The bellboy even looked as if he was about to stop her as he crossed in front of the lift doors, but instead said ‘fourth floor’ as if he knew where she was going and then followed her in.

As the elevator bumped upwards she wondered at the fact that she had taken this heterosexual man and got him to swallow one of her other sub's cum, giving a good effort at oral sex for a first attempt. Later, he even let one of her other slaves really fuck him. Yes, he had experienced her strap-on dildo before, but she knew this had been different for him. She had really expected to hear his safe word, but afterwards he just served her with even greater deference and thanked her obediently as he left.

It was only at the end that she told him he had deserved a reward; one evening where he called the shots and it wouldn’t need to be on her turf. Though he would need to pay double for her time.

When the message came about where and when and what her dress code was, it took her back to her days as a ‘normal’ escort. She had still enjoyed that work, but not with the buzz she got from taking high performing men and making them cower at her feet, take a thrashing and violent pegging, and then be humiliated in any way she pleased. They would come back again and again.

She could orgasm at the mere thought, but she resisted her own pleasure during the actual sessions. She didn’t know why. Was she saving herself for a larger-than-life man, who would give her complete subservience, but also entertain her mind? Perhaps then, she might get lost in the pleasure of it all. Instead, she played the videos back after a session and masturbated herself out of the sexual frenzy the dominance created.

She had enough clients and had made enough money to see her for the rest of her days, all squirrelled away in high performing equities. She was smart to. So why was she coming here as if taking herself back to her roots? Many clients had asked her to do different things with them, even marry them, but she of course denied them all.

Vince was different. Yes, he was famous. Even though he used a false name, she knew exactly who he was and what he did for a living and how large his bank balance might be. But it didn’t bother her. She didn’t want one man’s money.

She imagined tonight he was going to give her the best meal in town, a hundred roses and thousand-pound bottles of champagne and think this would impress her. Of course, it wouldn’t, but then, he had earned his forfeit and she would play the game.

The lift doors whispered aside and she saw the signs indicating ‘The Honeymoon Suite, Room 401’

She knocked on the door. It opened inwards.

The room was in shadow and his voice called from inside what looked like an elegant drawing room. She caught a glance of Vince sitting in an arm chair sipping a deep yellow wine, she guessed was Chablis.

But then her vision was stolen as a scarf was whipped over her eyes, from behind her. Two strong hands caught her wrists and then only one was needed as the other flicked the coat off her shoulders.

She sensed movement, but couldn’t see who was approaching from in front of her. The first realisation, that it was a woman, eased the fear that had immediately welled up inside her that she was about to be gang raped. The woman's breasts crushed into her own and her nipples caught fire at the unexpected physical sensation of soft squashy flesh like her own.

Sticky lipstick covered lips suddenly assaulted her own and a hot small tongue darted inside her mouth as she let out an uncontrollable moan of lust.

She had almost forgotten about the man holding her from behind until he pressed himself forward. The cock that segued against her buttocks and up her back was hot and throbbing and, unless she was mistaken, it was bigger than any of her toys. And she owned the shop.

Then she heard Vince’s voice.

“Darling, I hope you weren’t expecting roses and champagne. If I am to win your soul, I knew I needed something much more daring and unexpected.”

She barely heard his words. She was already shuddering, close to climax from the joint physical assault, by a buxom woman on her lips and the anticipation of what the giant cock would feel like inside her when her captor bent her over the bed, as she desperately hoped he would.

“All in good time, my dear!” were the last words Vince said that night, as if he had read her mind!