Sara was breathing hard, “Please don’t leave me naked in front of all these people!”

I sat back and looked at her, “Tell me – are you wetter now than you were?”

She stopped, gulped, then looked down at her lap and whispered, “Yes.”

I chuckled, “I thought so.”

~~~~~

It had started earlier that day when we finished our adventure of camping and hiking through the Canadian Rockies. Sara had spent most of that time naked, either cumming, or being edged and desperate to cum. Now it was time to return to the Real World, and about time as we both smelled of sweat, wood smoke, and cum.

We both slid into the front seat of my rental car and clicked our seatbelts closed. I reached for the ignition – then stopped. Sitting back, I decided to think through what was going to happen next. After all, Sara and I had a little less than twenty-four hours together, so I wanted them to be memorable.

I thought for a while as Sara stared at me but said nothing, knowing not to question me. I could see the pulse in her neck, and knew she was both still anxious about what I might do, and hot, wet, and needy.

I glanced down at her pussy, and saw a wet spot, which was a bit surprising as her t-shirt only just barely came down below her pussy, and was fairly tight. And she was breathing hard. Clearly, she hadn’t left her sluttiness on the trail. Finally, I turned and smiled.

“Please make sure you’re sitting on the t-shirt. I’m not sure I want to have to explain a big, wet spot on the passenger seat when I return the car tomorrow.”

She nodded, lifted slightly, then pulled the tight t-shirt down so it covered her bum. Now, her cunt honey would leak onto the shirt first. It might eventually leak onto the seat – but it was only about a twenty-minute drive to the Banff Springs Hotel.

I nodded. “Good. Now spread your knees wide, and rub your pussy through your t-shirt. Make sure to get your finger between your pussy lips, and stroke your clit as you do so – but you are not allowed to cum, understand?”

She nodded again, spread her legs, and started to mold the t-shirt around her finger so she could start to slide it up and down her pussy lips. I saw her glance at my crotch and smiled because I had a hard-on, so she knew she would be taking my cock before too long. She just didn’t know how or where she would get it.

I waited long enough to be satisfied she had understood me properly about playing with herself. When I heard the squelching sounds coming from her finger between her pussy lips and saw the slightly glazed look in her eyes, I smiled, started the car, and drove off.

“Is there anything else you want to do before we part ways, tomorrow at the airport?” I asked.

Sara was rubbing her finger up and down between her pussy lips, and there was a faint sheen of perspiration on her upper lip, but she nodded, then looked down. “Other than being allowed to cum, you mean? Because I really, really need to cum!”

Just then, the car hit a bump in the road, and I guess she must have pressed harder on her clit because she closed her eyes and moaned, letting her head fall back against the headrest. Her whole body shook, her eyes closed, and she started to clamp her legs together – then realized I would be displeased and opened them again. I noticed now that her legs were trembling, and realized she would probably have cum if I hadn’t forbidden it. She paused her finger, licked her lips, swallowed hard, then went back to rubbing it up and down her sopping slit, but more slowly this time.

I smiled at her obvious neediness. “I’ll think about it. Other than being allowed to cum…is there something else?”

She continued to look down, not meeting my – intermittent – gaze as I tried to focus on the highway. “Uh…well, you’re gonna think this is really…I’m not sure if it’s silly, or slutty, or both, but…”

I waited, then said, “Go on.”

She took a deep breath and then let it out all at once. “I’d like you to force me to suck your cock, make me helpless and unable to stop you, and just, just…use me.”

She swallowed again. “And then I’d like you to fuck me silly, over and over again until I beg you to stop.”

She looked up sideways at me. “Pretty silly, huh?”

I shook my head. “No – but it is pretty slutty.”

Pausing again, I said, “Sara, you’ve discovered something about yourself this week. You get really turned on by being dominated, which you just expressed as being ‘forced’ to suck my cock. And I get turned on by that, too – I mean, I enjoy having you want to be dominated.

“But since we’re not going to be together, let me warn you that you need to be careful with this desire. Remember you told me about that football player who talked you into anal sex?”

She nodded, a sour look on her face, “Yeah that was Jace…Jace Monette. He’s an asshole.”

“Right, and that’s my point. You don’t want to be dominated by someone whose only interest is to use your body for their pleasure – but doesn’t care what it does to you.”

I looked at her, turning back to the windshield quickly, then back at her as I spoke. “I have used your body for my pleasure – but I also made sure it was for our mutual pleasure, that you enjoyed it too. And I tried to discern the things you enjoyed, and the things you didn’t. Plus I was very careful to make sure you were not harmed or damaged. I’m not sure that football-playing Jace would take that kind of care.

“D/s play is a kind of contract, Sara. As your Dom, I accept all responsibility for what happens and try to make very sure that we are working in harmony. You give me control over your body – and mind, for that matter – in exchange. We both benefit, and we both enjoy it.

“Have you enjoyed this week?”

She looked up suddenly, and broke into a sunny smile, “Fuck, yeah! It’s been way beyond anything I’ve ever experienced!”

“Have you been harmed at all? I don’t mean hurt – because sometimes causing a little bit of pain is a means of achieving greater pleasure. No, I mean, have you been damaged or injured physically, mentally, or in any other way?”

She got a thoughtful look, then slowly shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. Yes, you hurt me on a few occasions, some of which I enjoyed, and some of which I didn’t. But I am not harmed. Overall, I enjoyed it.”

I nodded. “And that’s why you want to be cautious when you get back home. Because you only want to submit to someone who will take that kind of care, and accept responsibility for what happens.”

Sara was nodding, “Yeah, I can see that.” She smiled again, then leaned over and quickly kissed my shoulder, which was all she could reach as I was driving. “You took care of me. Thank you!”

I was starting to choke up a bit, especially at the thought of leaving this amazing woman with whom I had become so close, so quickly. I decided to steer the conversation back to firmer ground.

“Now…you’d like me to force you to suck my cock.” Smiling, I said, “I think we can arrange that.” Glancing down, I said, “But keep playing with yourself, I want the front of your t-shirt soaked by the time we get to the hotel. And I want you desperate and begging to be allowed to cum, okay?”

Sara’s lovely, cocksucking mouth made a little moue, then she sat back, and said, “Yes, Master. But I’m already so close to cumming that if you don’t hurry, I’m likely to spray cunt honey all over your car!” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, spread her legs wider, and went back to rubbing her slit and clit, but now added fingers on either side of her pussy lips, and started rhythmically pinching her fingers closed when her middle finger was over her clit. And I could hear her breath coming in short, quick pants.

This was going to be fun, especially as I don’t think she had thought ahead as to what would happen next!

~~~~~

 We pulled up outside the hotel lobby door and stopped. Sara’s eyes sprang open, then she shrieked when the bellman opened her door – except this bellman was a woman, dressed in Fairmont livery.

“Welcome to the Fairmont Banff Springs!” She smiled at me, then turned and noticed Sara and her face froze.

“Perhaps you could unload our equipment from the back,” I said, leaning forward to engage her eyes. She paused for a heartbeat, smiled again, then turned and walked to the back as I popped the trunk.

Sara looked at me gratefully, so I decided to up the ante. Placing my hand on her naked thigh below her t-shirt, fingers on the inside, I started to stroke my fingers up toward her pussy, collecting quite a bit of her honey on my fingers. She moaned and lifted off the seat, pushing her crotch towards my hand, eager for me to make her cum, even though we were in public.

I pushed up between her soaking cunt lips and was rewarded with a heavy coating of honey on my fingers as she further rolled her hips, trying to strain upwards towards my hand while being restrained by the seatbelt.

I pulled my hand away and she moaned and pouted, her big eyes on me, pleading. I offered my fingers to her. “You’ve soaked my fingers. Suck them clean, slut,” I said softly.

After staring at me for a moment, she leaned forward and started sucking my fingers clean, one by one, her eyes on mine the whole time. “Mmmm…”

When she’d sucked each of my fingers, she kissed my palm and whispered, “Please, Master – I need to cum,” and she made a mewling noise.

I shook my head. “Not yet,” and pulled away, then opened my door and got out. I moved quickly to Sara’s side of the car to make sure she got out, and that no one else had a full view of her doing so because of how short her t-shirt was. She was likely to expose her cunt to the world when she turned and put one foot down, and while I wanted to see it, I didn’t want to broadcast it to everyone else. At least, not yet.

I reached over her and undid her seatbelt, then held my hand out to her. She didn’t notice me for a moment, as she seemed to be somewhere else. Her breathing was fast, and her face and what I can see of her upper body were flushed. Were it not for my prohibition on her cumming, I suspect she would have orgasmed right then, outside the hotel entrance.

“Out you come,” I said – and immediately realized my mistake as her eyes flick towards mine, a hopeful look on her face.

Leaning in close, I said urgently, but quietly, “Do NOT cum, slut. You must not cum yet. But get out of the car. Now.”

She swallowed hard, then reluctantly offered her hand, and I pulled her out of the car and into a standing position. She swayed slightly, trembling, almost shaking, then looked down and realized her situation. She was not quite decent. The t-shirt just barely came down to below her cunt, and featured big wet patches both front and back, dark against the light blue of the t-shirt. The t-shirt had large, orange letters across the chest that said “I SWALLOW,” and except for the t-shirt and flip-flops, she was naked in public.

“Wait here,” I told her, and went back to speak to the bellhop.

I told the bellhop, whose name was Sheri according to her name tag, that we were checking in, that I was a President’s Club member, and that we were just back from several days hiking, which was probably evident from my t-shirt, shorts, hiking boots – and aroma. Handing her the claim check for the stuff we had left with the hotel while we were camping, I asked her to pick up that luggage up as well as our camping equipment. She smiled and said she would collect all our gear and meet us at the elevators by the time we were checked in. I thanked her and gave her the key to the rental car for valet parking.

It was clear that she had seen Sara and sized up the situation quickly. I’ve learned that hotel employees see an awful lot – and the good ones don’t let it throw them. This woman was good.

I walked around to Sara’s side and held out my hand. “Come along. We need to check in.”

Sara was breathing hard by this time, eyes wide, and seemingly frightened to move. “M-Mas-Master, please! My clothes? May I put something else on now? I’m almost naked, and it’s embarrassing!”

My smile broadened, and my voice had steel in it. “I know. That’s exactly what I had in mind. Now, stand up, little slut. You will hold my hand and stay by my side as we walk into the hotel. Keep your head up, back arched, and your tits out. You are mine to do with as I please, so please me.” Leaning in, I gave her a soft, probing kiss, then took her hand and guided her to the hotel entrance.

I had to almost drag her into the cavernous lobby, with its fieldstone walls, high lamps, and exposed timbers, looking understandably nervous. As well, to keep the t-shirt from riding up, she had to almost run in her flip-flops in short, almost mincing steps, making a clop-clop-clopping noise that just drew more attention to her. When I glanced back, her face was red with embarrassment, and she was looking at the ground.

Grinning at her discomfiture, I led her over to the President’s Club check-in, where a fresh-scrubbed young man with ginger hair looked up and smiled at me – and she crashed into my back!

“Sorry, Master,” she whispered.

“Shh,” I replied, then turned back to the desk clerk.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw Sara, but he turned resolutely to me, and said, “Welcome to the Fairmont! Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, I do,” as I handed him my President’s Club card along with my black metal credit card, “but I’d like to upgrade from a junior suite to a full suite if that’s possible.”

“Of course. I’m sure we can find you something lovely.” He put his head down and started clicking keys on his keyboard.

Sara pushed closer to me, apparently hoping I would hide her inside the crook of my arm. I pushed her back a pace, and whispered, “Head up, shoulders back. I want to see your tits poking against the t-shirt. Remember – you are my slut. Behave like it.”

Just then, the clerk finished clicking keys, so I turned back to him. “Yes! We have the Bow River Suite available. Would that do?”

I nodded, “Yes, but not at your rack rate. Club discount?”

He smiled conspiratorially, “Absolutely, Mr. James. Let me see what I can do.” More keys were pressed, then the printer hummed, and he handed me the reservation details. “Will this do?”

I glanced at it. It was certainly more than I would have paid for a junior suite, but not that much more. “That would be most satisfactory…” I read his name tag, “Marshall. Thank you. Can you have our equipment brought up?”

He was already nodding before I finished, “Sheri is already on her way to the elevators.” He quickly magnetized two key cards and put them in a cardboard folder. “Enjoy your stay!”

“One more thing, Marshall – could we have a reservation for supper at seven in the Vermillion Room? A table by the window would be ideal.”

“Certainly, Mr. James, it would be our pleasure.” He handed me the reservation details, the cardboard envelope with the key cards, and a brochure – which undoubtedly itemized all the exclusive benefits of someone staying in a President’s Club suite.

“Thank you, Marshall. And you should know that I never forget to provide feedback on excellent service to the management.”

Marshall’s smile warmed. “We always appreciate feedback from our most important guests. Thank you, Mr. James!”

I turned away, smiling to myself. I doubted very much that we were among their most important guests – after all, the Fairmont Banff Springs had hosted presidents, prime ministers, and the Queen – but I was also quite sure we would be well looked after. There are advantages to enlisting service people to your side by giving them the praise they deserve.

Taking Sara’s hand – the poor girl seemed to be trying to disappear into the floor, and it wasn’t working – I pulled her through the quiet lobby towards the elevators. "Please, Master, may we go to the room now? Please?”

I ignored her, and took a circuitous route to the elevators, past some of the shops full of people. I was amused that people along the way stopped and stared at us. Or rather, Sara. This was in great contrast to the trail, where we had barely elicited more than a nod and a good morning, and Sara was finding it mortifying. I nodded to several of them and offered them a cheery “Good morning!” feeling Sara’s sweaty palm clutching mine.

Finally, I sensed that Sara was approaching panic, so headed for the elevators, even though I was also quite sure that she was even wetter now than she had been when we got out of the car.

We found Sheri standing with the cart loaded with our equipment by the President’s Club elevators. When she saw us, she pushed the call button, and the doors opened immediately.

“Thank you, Sheri,” I said as I pulled Sara into the elevator.

She huddled into the corner and tried to pull her t-shirt further down, without much success. Holding her left hand in my right, I used my index finger to trace circles in her palm – and was rewarded when I felt a shiver go through her body and heard a small moan escape her lips. And I could smell her fragrance in the small space of the elevator, even though we had only just entered it.

Sheri stifled a giggle, then went back to pretending not to notice, pushed the button for our floor, then cleared her throat, and said, “Are you here for long?”

“No, unfortunately, just the one night. I have to go back to real life tomorrow, and Sara here,” pointing at the blushing girl, “will be finishing her vacation, too.”

“Well, I hope your stay with us will be enjoyable.”

“Oh, we’re quite certain of that – aren’t we, Sara?”

Sara didn’t reply, staring fixedly at the floor, but when I squeezed her hand to prompt her, she nodded quickly, allowing her hair to cover her face.

She was saved from further discussion by the elevator doors opening.

Sheri gestured for us to go first, which I was pleased to do, pulling Sara after me, then heard the cart emerge from the elevator. “To the left,” Sheri commented.

I glanced at the room number on the key envelope, then pulled Sara down the hall to the left. Finding the door, I waved the key card against the lock, which immediately opened. Pushing in, I led Sara into the living room of the suite, then stopped at the window, where Sara joined me.

Below us was a magnificent view of the Bow River and the valley. It was about the most beautiful view I think I have ever had from a hotel room.

Meanwhile, Sheri was unloading our equipment by the luggage rack. “Would you like me to point out the amenities of your suite, Mr. James?”

Shaking my head, I pulled out the twenty-dollar bill I had folded in my pocket and handed it to her. “No, but thank you. I’ve stayed here before.”

Sheri smiled, her eyes on me and not the money, bobbing her head. “Then enjoy your stay – and please call us if there’s anything we can do to make it even better!”

Turning, she quickly maneuvered the cart through the door, letting it swing shut behind her.

I moved behind Sara, put my hands on her ass, and slid her damp t-shirt up above her waist. Then, keeping it up, I smoothed my hands around over her hip bones, and down between her legs, which she quickly stepped further apart.

Her groin and thighs were slippery with cunt honey, and her cunt lips were slick and puffy. She dropped her head back on my shoulder and moaned, “Oh GOD I’m so fuckin’ horny!”

She turned to me, “Please, Master, can I cum now? I’ve been good!”

Looking at her, I said, “You said something about being forced to suck my cock?”

She immediately dropped to her knees, unzipped my shorts, fished out my cock, and quickly sucked it in, taking it deep, then opening her mouth around me and moaning.

I pulled the t-shirt over her head, causing her to let my cock fall from her mouth. Her long hair got tangled in the shirt, then slid free.

She reached for my cock again, but I grasped her wrist. “Not yet. Stand up.”

Confused, she stood but said nothing. She truly was progressing as a submissive.

Cock wagging, I walked over to my backpack, rummaged around until I found the silicon handcuffs, then returned, took her wrists, and pushed them through the openings, one by one, fastening her arms in front of her.

I shucked off my clothes, dropped them on the floor, then pulled the coverlet and sheets back on the bed. I propped myself up on the pillows, spread my legs, dick pointing straight up, and said, “Come here and suck me now.”

She clumsily crawled up the bed, hindered by having both hands fastened in front of her, but made it to my crotch. She had her palms flat on the bed close to my ass with her arms inside my legs. Her hands were bound together by the cuffs, and she was on her hands and knees with her mouth positioned over my cock. Lowering her head, she awkwardly captured my cock back into her mouth, taking me deep.

I lifted my legs and placed them over her shoulders, calves resting on her back, her head between my thighs. She looked up at me, cock filling her mouth, lips clasped tight around it, hair cascading around her face, eyes startled.

She had her cuffed hands on the bed, supporting her shoulders. Her face was framed by my thighs so she couldn’t turn her head to get my cock out of her mouth. And she couldn’t lift either hand to push me away without falling forward, pushing my cock even deeper into her throat. She had no choice but to let me do what I wanted with her – as she had asked.

I put my hand on her head and pushed down while simultaneously crossing my calves behind her head and pushing up with my hips, forcing my cock deep into her throat, and holding it there.

After a few seconds of suppressing the reflex, she gagged and coughed, opening her mouth around me, then made a retching sound as I kept myself deep inside her throat. A few seconds more and I eased off, but kept my cockhead in her mouth, letting her catch her breath.

“Good girl,” stroking her hair. “You wanted me to force you to suck  my cock, didn’t you?”

She paused, mouth open around my cock as she sucked air in, allowing saliva to drool down from her mouth. She swallowed as best she could, then nodded.

“Ready for more?”

Her eyes flicked up towards me, then down. Closing them, she nodded and mumbled, “Yesh Mash-ter”. Pushing up quickly, I found the back of her throat, clamping her head between my thighs and pulling her close with my hands and crossed legs.

Again she suppressed it, then gagged, made urking sounds, then began to cough and retch. I held her there, enjoying the sensation and the sounds. I watched as her eyes started to water and drool started running down my length.

Finally, when it became clear she was starting to panic because of lack of air, I relented and let my now-glistening cock slide down from gagging her throat, but kept my cockhead and part of the shaft inside her.

She was panting now, gasping in breath, her lips making as much room as they could around my shaft. Once again, I stroked her hair and complimented her, but this time I reached down one side, and stroked her left tit as well. Letting my fingers slide down to the nipple, I grasped and twisted it, slowly pulling and stretching the tit down.

Her eyes closed and she moaned.

“Ready?”

Her eyes flashed to mine as she panted, then she swallowed, clasped her lips around me, then nodded.

This time I pushed up into her slowly, inexorably, then clamped my legs around her ears and the back of her head, holding her tightly with my hands. She held off as long as she could, then once again began to gag, cough, and retch.

I held her tight, and started to count, “Ten seconds…nine…eight…”

She was struggling, eyes watering, drool sliding down my shaft towards my pubis, then her nose started to dribble as well. I loved this sensation, these sounds, and this view of a helpless – but willing – submissive, eager to let me use her for my pleasure. Yet, I knew I had to stop unless I wanted to cum in her mouth. It was tempting, but I decided I’d rather cum inside her cunt, pushing deep inside her.

Once I reached ten, I withdrew just enough that she could breathe, which she did in great gasping inhales around my cockshaft, sniffing. Her eyes, red and watering, gazed at me, pleading, which almost made me lose it.

I relaxed, withdrew from her mouth, slid my legs from her back, and spread them wide, feet flat on the bed.

She moved from between my legs, rolled over on her back, panting, then wiped her nose with the back of her bound wrists.

I tapped her shoulder and told her to move up, which she did, shoving with her feet. I spread her legs, then pushed her hands, still bound, above her head. Her face was a wet mess, mouth wide in a panting O of sensation. I moved down to inspect between her legs.

Her cunt was pink, puffy, and drooling honey. Using a finger, I gathered some of the honey and started smearing it around her pussy lips, then between them and up to massage her pearl.

“Oh, God! Please, please, Master! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum!”

Lowering my head, I used my tongue to lick slowly up from her perineum, between her cunt lips, and finally flick up and down her clit.

It was as if an electric shock went through her body. “Oh, FUCK! Please, Master!”

I knelt up, pushing her legs up and placing the backs of her knees on my shoulders, her cunt wide open and waiting. Slowly lowering down, I placed my cockhead against her pussy lips and rubbed it up and down, then, using my fingers, slapped it hard against her clit.

Her back arched, her legs went rigid, and she lifted off the bed, taking the weight on her shoulders. “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! OOhh…”

Smiling, I pushed my cock between her pussy lips, and then shoved hard into her wet and waiting cunt. It immediately spasmed around me, gripping my cock, seemingly trying to milk me. I stayed still to avoid cumming too soon and waited until her cunt slacked a bit, then walked my knees forward, leaned in, and shoved even harder, pushing up against her cervix, her legs crushed against her own shoulders, hands above her head.

She arched her neck and pushed down with her bum, screaming.

“Now, little slut, you may cum now.”

Her bound hands came up around my shoulders, pulling me closer, trying to pull me even deeper inside her as her cries grew in pitch and volume. She started flipping her head from side-to-side, helpless in the throes of ecstasy long-denied, cunt spasming and gripping my cock.

Then my groans echoed hers as I ground my hips into the bottom of her thighs, forcing myself as deep as was I could into her cunt, panting hard as I spurted inside her, again and again and again…

~~~~~

When I woke, we were making spoons, her in front, and me cuddling behind her. I had no recollection of moving into that position, or of removing her cuffs and then pulling the sheet and blanket over us. That wasn’t important, so I smiled and nestled closer, nuzzling her shoulder.

I heard a satisfied sigh, and she wriggled her bum back against me.

We slept again.

When we woke, I realized that we had missed lunch, and heard as much as felt the growling in my stomach. Moments later, hers answered, making me chuckle. Glancing at the clock, I realized that we had three hours until supper. I extricated myself from the bed, went to the phone, dialed Room Service, and ordered two Reuben sandwiches, fries and coleslaw, chocolate milk for me, and sweetened iced tea for her.

Then I went over, lay down next to her, rolled her onto my shoulder, and cuddled her. “We’ve got about 20 minutes before there’s a knock on the door. Do you want first shower or second?”

Her eyes barely opened. “Go ‘way!” she said, “wanna sleep.”

I chuckled, then said, “Well, okay, but you’re gonna be naked when you open the door for the room service guy.”

She lifted her head and glared at me. “Meanie! Okay, I’ll take first shower!” She leaned over and kissed me quick, then bounced out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom leaving me with a glimpse of her lovely naked ass.

I wrapped myself in a hotel bathrobe and waited to see whether she would finish before or after the room service guy showed up, making a bet with myself.

It was after. As I had expected.

~~~~~

We had eaten our late lunch, both had much-needed showers, unpacked from the trail, reorganized our luggage, and were about to dress for dinner. Before she could put on any clothes, I called Sara over to the full-length mirror in the spacious bathroom.

“Take a good look at yourself, little slut. Front, back, sides. I want you to remember what you look like, okay?”

She looked confused but did as I asked. “I could afford to lose a few pounds,” she commented as she turned this way and that.

I snorted. “No, you could not. All that losing a few pounds would do to you would be to make you look gaunt. You’re perfect as you are!” And I smacked her on the ass the emphasize my point.

She smiled and wiggled her bum, then turned and put her arms around my neck. “You are so good for me! I always questioned whether I was sexy or not, and always compared myself to those photos in the magazines, especially the fitness mags for women.”

I slipped my hands around her back and rested my palms on her bare bum cheeks. “Silly girl. You should do what my wife used to do before she died. She bought men’s fitness magazines. They gave good fitness advice, and instead of making her feel inadequate, they just gave her a greater incentive to exercise!”

Chuckling, I said, “And they made her horny – which was a real plus in my book!”

Sara stared up into my eyes. “How did she die?” she asked quietly.

“Cancer,” I replied curtly, then smiled to soften it. “But let’s focus on you, shall we? I have a surprise for you later, but it needs some preparation.”

Which it did.

~~~~~

Once again she drew a lot of eyes. Her long red-brown hair hung down her back, clean and shining. She was wearing her tight, black, cashmere sweater which clearly displayed her bra-less, erect nipples, and a short, white, pleated dress that hung well above the knee, showing quite a bit of tanned, shapely leg above strappy, white sandals. Her face was made up nicely, and more boldly than last time. She looked more mature than she had before we left on our hike and more confident.

She was clearly more at home with her sexuality than she had been when we met, and more confident that she was sexy and appealing. She wore the heavy black leather slave collar proudly as if it were a diamond necklace. I smiled to myself. She had all sorts of good reasons for feeling confident and sexy because she was. I was delighted that not only had we both had a lot of fun on the trail, but that her self-image seemed to have improved as well.

She looked, and carried herself more like a sex goddess, especially the way she swayed her hips, than the self-doubting young woman I had met less than a week ago. I was thrilled to offer her my arm as we wound our way to a prime table with a view overlooking the valley and the Bow River below. It was, again, a magnificent view, especially with the shadows starting to march across the valley.

Dinner was delicious, made especially so in comparison to the trail food we had been eating, and our conversation was witty and thoroughly enjoyable. We were just enjoying each other’s company, a trust, and camaraderie that had developed on the trail and which undergirded and supported the Master-submissive dynamic.

For dessert, I had one of my favorites: profiteroles, drizzled with chocolate sauce, but luxurious vanilla ice cream in place of the usual whipped cream in acknowledgment of summer. Sara had Gâteau au Chocolat, chocolate cake, in acknowledgment of her love of chocolate.

We had both finished and were relaxing and enjoying ourselves when I decided it was time to move things along. I signaled the waiter to bring the bill.

“So – no bra, and no panties, correct?” I asked.

Her smile broadened and she nodded.

“And how wet are you?”

“Knowing what must be ahead…I’m dripping, Master.”

“Excellent. Now, I have a surprise for you, one I told you about earlier, but which you don’t remember. Place your hands on the table, palms down, please.”

Looking somewhat confused, and slightly apprehensive, she did so.

“Now, do not move, and don’t scream, no matter what happens, okay?”

She bit her lower lip but nodded.

I lifted my right hand and snapped my fingers, which attracted attention from the surrounding tables. Good.

At first, Sara didn’t know why I did that. Then she looked down and gasped.

“M…master!” She leaned forward, trying to hide her body with her hands, which is difficult when you’re seated in a restaurant with other patrons staring at you. “I’m naked!” she hissed.

I smiled, “Yes, you are. Hands back on the table, please. And I’d like you to spread your legs wider to give people a good look at your cunt.”

She was breathing hard, her face flushed, but did as I asked – hands on the table, and legs spread wide. “I…I…Please don’t leave me naked in front of all these people!”

I sat back and looked at her, “Tell me – are you wetter now than you were?”

She stopped, gulped, thought – then, blushing, looked down at her lap and whispered, “Yes.”

I chuckled, “I thought so.”

Just then the waiter arrived with the bill, which I glanced at, added a tip, and signed to my room. I thanked him warmly as I got up, then extended my hand to Sara.

Trembling, she took it and almost didn’t make it to standing her legs were so wobbly. I could see that she was fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands.

What she didn’t know was that she wasn’t naked. What she was experiencing was a post-hypnotic suggestion that she was. She was still wearing the clothes she walked in with – but was convinced she was naked in front of a crowded room of strangers.

So, wobbly-legged, she let me lead her out of the restaurant, then along the hall and down the stairs to the lobby…blushing furiously. People did turn and stare at her, but it was partly due to her expression, and partly because of the leather collar around her neck, so in contrast to her feminine clothes.

Finally, after parading her around in front of some of the hotel’s shops, I brought her to the elevator, which opened, disgorging a group of loud, talking couples who almost banged into us. Fortunately, they stopped and stared, then apologized, laughing, and moved off to wherever they were going. Probably supper.

Sara, of course, was convinced that they had been shocked by her nakedness.

Yet, a strange thing was happening. The more she walked around, thinking herself naked, the less wobbly she seemed, and the more confident she became.

By the time we reached the door of our suite, she was standing tall again, shoulders back, back arched, tits out, and striding confidently again. I stopped and smiled.

“So, you enjoy being naked in public?”

She cocked her head and said, “I thought there would be more fuss, and that was what concerned me, I guess. But I’m finding that, yes, I do enjoy being naked. And I’ve become proud of my body instead of always criticizing it to myself.”

She stared at me, then raised my hand to her lips. “Thank you – Master. You did this.”

I drew her to me, standing there outside our door, and kissed her.

There was no urgency in the kiss, just kindness. I felt her press her body into mine, so I put my hands on her bum cheeks again and pulled her close. She drew back and said, “I’d love to suck you again. Would you rather I did it on my knees, naked, right here in the hall? Or should we go inside?”

Her tone implied she would be happy with either.

I chuckled, opened the door, and gestured her in. “Much too good for the common folk. Let’s go inside…I have another surprise for you.”

She looked at me coquettishly through her lashes, “I can’t wait!” then swayed her hips as she moved through the door.

Stepping in, I closed and locked it, then took her by the shoulders and positioned her in front of the full-length mirror, looking over her shoulder.

“What do you see?”

She let her gaze travel slowly up and down her length, then said, “I see a naked slut, eager to suck and fuck her Master.”

I raised my right hand and snapped my fingers again.

She gasped because now she saw herself fully clothed. “How…how did you do that?”

I smiled. “You said something about sucking and fucking your Master?” was all I replied.

She gaped at me in the mirror, then her expression dissolved into a smile. She turned, sunk to her knees, and unzipped my fly…