Last day...

On Sunday I woke up and my Master was still sleeping. My body ached all over from the previous two days, so I quietly slid out of bed and took a long hot bath, and then rinsed and cleaned off in the shower. My butt seemed to have more purple coverage despite the colors being a bit fainter. I worked my jaw a bit as I brushed my teeth and gargled. I then went back to the bedroom and my Master was still asleep. I curled up, wet hair and all, with him. With me snuggled close, it wasn’t long before he stirred and I felt his angry eye poking at my butt. At first, it was just between my cheeks, but I adjusted and whimpered as he pressed into my unlubed ass. He went slowly, letting my body adjust. I bit down on the pillow as he pushed in, his skin bumping against my tender ass. Soon his weight was over and on me as he rolled me flat on my belly and fucked me until my guts were full of his cum. He popped out and went to the restroom and I followed behind him. While he showered and cleaned himself off, I wiped and used the bathroom. After he got out, he pulled out a nice dress, very conventional, with floral printing and my plug. I took that to be “no underwear”, and got dressed, working the plug in my sore ass.

We headed out to IHOP and other than no underwear and the plug; you’d never have imagined anything amiss there. We talked more, held hands, and I can’t describe it better than I was happy. No other worries existed. We headed back to the hotel and played some games. He’d been teaching me Poker and we followed that up with some trivia. We touched, kissed, and mostly stayed in physical contact with one another.

It wasn’t until an hour later that we would play one last time of the day. He told me to use the bathroom, but not to pee and so I did. When I came out, I squealed. I know most people wouldn’t understand this. I’m smart, but hard work smart. I have accomplished, by normal standards, parents. But I sought out my Master to escape my life, the pressure of it, of having to be perfect. And the best way we would do that is by me “NOT” being myself. Someone the opposite of me. Someone trashy.

Laid out on the bed was the “me” that was not me. My dark counterpart that often brought me more joy than my real life. My most enduring roleplay with my Master was a trashy, low-class, stupid skank. A cheap trailer trash slut who liked to be used, fucked, choked, and sometimes even hurt.

She smoked (something that ended up going from play to actual addiction), was easy, drank often, and got off on being treated like the cunt she was. And on the bed was one of my regular outfits, a cheap red tube top, along with a black microskirt that covered nothing. A very small g-string with a heart on it sat beside those, and my Marlboro’s beside that. A pair of gaudy, cheap heels completed my ensemble. I quickly dressed and looked at Master for permission to smoke as I dressed and he nodded yes. He had paid the 100$ deposit for smoking. I lit up, in just the G-string, and took a deep drag, giving him my sluttiest eyes. I then slowly dressed as he watched, often pawing on me, pinching, and groping as I dressed. As soon as I was finished, he jerked my head back and kissed me hard, mashing my tit in his hand. I had a wicked smile as he shoved me away, almost stumbling in the heels, a hungry look on my face. He didn’t say a word, just pointed to my makeup on the table, and I put on red lipstick (which sadly no longer matched my nails) and a bit too much eye makeup. It was cheap lipstick, not gloss, and smeared easily.

As soon as I had it applied, he gripped my neck and examined me. He shoved his hand up my skirt and pushed the g-string aside, pumping 2 fingers in me as I smoked and moaned. He lifted his fingers to my mouth and I sucked on them, tasting my juices. He pointed to the bed and got out his camera. I sat and parted my legs, taking deep drags, and playing with myself. I pinched my nipples through the thin top that hid nothing. I tugged my clit as my fingers explored my wetness. He took pictures as I abused myself, getting close, but being stopped by him any time I looked like I might cum. Eventually, he put the camera down and told me to come over to him and I did. He fucked my face with the cigarette still in hand, dwindling down, jerking and bobbing my head up and down. He left me gasping for air, drooling, then would start again, making me think of the adult theater. Apparently he thought the same because he said, “Bringing back any memories whore?” as he pumped my face. Finally, he shoved me back hard onto the bed and pulled me back up, dragging me to the mirror. He told me that the reflection was me, we both knew that was me, and everything else was me playing pretend. My lipstick was smeared, my hair was a mess, and I was shaking hard. He gripped my cunt and I felt my eyes water as I panted in his ear. He shoved me down in a chair and got one of those cups for rinsing out of your mouth, handing it to me.