The shrill of the phone sent her into a little panic. It was the work line and Gypsy knew there was a man who had been exchanging letters and texts with her for a while. He was very well off, and a lover of pain. She too was someone who likes the addition of some pain in her life. In this line of work, there can be no physical marks unless paid for. Each mark will cost the consumer for their presence on her body. He mentioned he wanted to spend in the 10 grand range and each one would be 500 dollars in her bank account. When the girls agreed to this they would make the full amount, not the company. Hopefully, she knew full well the extent of the oncoming abuse.
In her hand was the paper that described the client. He was mid 40’s, unmarried, and a CEO of a major brokerage company in New York. He was well-groomed, attractive, std free, and yet he liked escorts. There had to be a reason why, but as long as he paid, Gypsy didn’t care. He could have a micropenis and she could have cared less. This was not about sex for her. She worked for financial security. Her red shoe client paid her lease and for her car, and the rest paid for by monies earned through Men like this. Not a respectable career choice, but one she loved.
Standing in front of the building, it was intimidating in stature. When she googled it, the statistics said 112 floors, 4 elevators, 3 restaurants, and at the top was a penthouse owned by the Man. The one she was going to meet. Shown to the floor, the attendant instructed her to enter the apartment and follow the written instructions on the foyer table. Smiling, she thanked him with a 20 and he was gone. Sure she didn’t have to do that, but she knew what it was like to work check to check. Of course, that was not her life now, but it once was.
“Gypsy, you are to undress where you are. Everything folded neat and tidy. Place them in the basket to the right of you.” Looking over, she saw the one he spoke of and proceeded to do as told. This was not the normal “date” for her. She was going to play that fifty shades shit and be his submissive. Fun fantasy unless it’s like the movie and the Dominate never really did anything but steal a girls’ virginity. That basically was the entire plot of the movie. He spanked her once, took her cherry, and bam, they fell in love. That is not the way it works in the real BDSM world.
Unclothed and looking to the next item, Gypsy followed and found herself down the hall to the right. It was a dark room, no, not red, but dark in its own right. The next part instructed her to lay across the bench on her stomach, place her hands in the two holes in the floor, and grab the slender metal bar in each. Under no circumstances was she to release her grip until instructed to. Gypsy followed the orders, noting the coldness of the cylinder bar. Maybe that was just her mind playing tricks on her, but it felt ice cold. Sometimes you feel things that are not there because the mind is a devil. It will lead you down a path of destruction if you give in to temptation.
“Gypsy! For the next 8 hours, I own you. You’re to rest when I say you need it. You’re allowed to use the restroom when I say you need to relieve yourself. Not before. Self-control is the key here. Use it.”
A few deep breaths she felt his hand on my ass. Caressing the soft skin of her round buttocks, his hands were as smooth as a baby’s bottom. He didn’t do manual labor. His hand proved that. Closing her eyes, it was a sensual movement by him, one that would very soon come to an end for the young girl.
The first slap was a shock. She felt the removal of his hand, but the placement forced her to scream. Her body arched, her puffy lips were the target. A slap so hard that her breath’s lost, she cried out in sheer blissful pain. The immediate reaction forced her lips to swell, her lower ones. Though she couldn’t see the mark, she could feel the outline of each digit on her perfect flesh. It would bruise. That she was sure of. Gripping the handles, her knuckles were quickly turning white. A second slap landing on her right cheek, his hand gripping the flesh instead of a quick withdraw. The pads of his fingers now digging in, his nails indented her ass cheek with a fine impression that would later host a shade of purple. Each time he struck her, there were no words spoken. No instructions. Just a small grunt of relief from this Man whose face she had not even seen.
Soft music suddenly flowed through the sound system. He methodically moved across the room, the sounds of a drawer opening, his presence once again next to Gypsy. Maybe he was just getting a condom and going to finish, but no. Blinding pain, screams for mercy, and the trickles of warmth running down her backside. She didn’t know the weapon of choice, but it was horrific and intoxicating at the same time. How could something so bad, be so good at the same time. Forcing his hand to her mouth, he forced her own panties in her mouth, taping them to muffle her cries. During this all, she could have stopped it. Her hands were not bound by anything other than her own self-control. She held steadfast and in place. It was his fantasy, but she was the one who was finding true pleasure.
“Do not move. Pricilla will come and wash you so not to soil my floor!”
He was not done. He bought 8 hours with Gypsy. He was paying per bruise. 5 grand in, she would reach 10 before done with her. To be continued.