Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
It’s like there is something unspoken. Dirty anticipation sparking between us as I stand there, illuminated by the outdoor lamps in front of me.
The silhouette is User 829, I can feel it. He almost takes up the full window, and shit, it’s a big window. Part of me is so scared that I want to cancel and run away, but another part of me – the deep, slutty part that Connor used to tease with ease – sees me walking towards the entrance, persuading me I want this experience as much as my bank balance does.
I’m possessed by enough of my dirty little demons to keep me going.
I click arrived on the app when I reach the hotel entrance and get a message straight back.
Come to the suite on the top floor.
Yes. I knew it. The shadow was him.
There’s nobody at the reception desk, and I don’t bother dinging the bell, just use the staircase to the side. I climb to the top, slowly, my breaths ragged with the thought of what’s ahead. There is only one door waiting when I reach floor three. The Master’s Suite. How apt.
I try to catch my breath, telling myself it’s ok, but my knees are virtually knocking together now the assignment is right here in front of me. I shove my phone in my handbag and brace myself.
I’m going to do this.
I clench my fist, ready to tap my knuckles against the door, but it swings open wide before I get the chance, and there he is, User 829. Heavy grey beard. Heavy grey brows, and a heavy set of shoulders to go along with them – so heavy, he looks carved out of stone.
As I stare up at my client, I get a little more than a shiver between my legs. Lust and terror, both at once.
The silhouette in the window didn’t do his size anywhere near enough justice.
User 829 is a mountain, not just a man, and now, for the next five hours, he’s going to be my Sir.
Chapter Six
User 829 – Male. 46.
I like to dominate cute goth girls like you. I like to treat entertainers like the sluts and whores I’m paying you to be. I want to make you gag on my cock and stretch you with toys until your pussy is used up and dripping, juicy. I want anal play, deep and hard, and I want to slap your ass while I’m doing it. Another thing, high on my list, is that I want to punish those lovely big tits of yours.
And all the while, I want you to be a good little girl and call me Sir.
Duration – 5 hours.
Proposal price – £1600.
User 829 isn’t one for niceties, that much is obvious. He steps aside to let me pass, and eyes me up like I’m just a toy for his amusement. Nothing more.
He’s right, I guess. I’m Holly here – the goth girl who’s going to take his cock in her ass hard and rough, and call him Sir for five hours straight.
Time to get in the zone.
I shrug my coat off, draping it over the back of a chair so he can see me in my full glory. I give him a little curtsy, holding the ruffles of my tutu, and use the word of the night for the very first time.
“Hello, Sir. Pleased to meet you.”
“You, too. Your safe word is flag according to the system. Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
I left the red out of it when I set it up. No point going for overkill…
His voice is deep enough to give credit to his appearance. I try to hide my trembles as the mountain of a man walks over to the mini bar at the far side of the room. He has a bottle of whisky already open with a shot glass in use, but takes out a fresh bottle of champagne from the fridge and holds it up for me.
“Do you like champagne, Holly?”
Fuck, how I love champagne, I just rarely get the chance to afford it.
“Yes, Sir. I do.”
He smirks. “If you promise to be a good girl, you can have some.”
“I’d love that, Sir. I’ll be a very good girl, I promise.”
I have goosebumps up my arms, I’m so fucking anxious, but there is no doubt about it – User 829 is making me really damn horny. I’ve never come close to fucking a guy like him.
He’s not in a designer suit, just a tight hugging t-shirt, and a pair of decent black jeans, but that makes no odds. He oozes confidence.
“Demonstrate how good a girl you are,” he says, and clicks his fingers towards the floor as though I’m a puppy in training. “Get down and crawl to me.”
The carpet is plush under my knees and palms as I crawl across the room like he wants me to. I look up at the bulky tower of a man when I reach him, and he pops the champagne cork, but he doesn’t get a glass for me.