I was just a few days shy of my twenty-third birthday when I left
on the first important business trip of my career. I didn’t want to
go, but I had no choice since it was my first big assignment and I
didn’t want to refuse it and end my career before it even got started.
The main reason I didn’t want to go was my wedding which was less than
a month away. My birthday was a minor consideration at that point.
My name is Samantha Tyler, Sam to my friends, and I was fresh out
of college and working at my first real job. I won’t go into detail
because it’s boring and because I don’t want to take the time to do
so. I’m a slim, athletic woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, and
olive/tan skin. I’m 5 foot seven and weigh 122 pounds. I have a
pretty nice figure but my long, slim legs are my best feature.
The trip went well right up until it was time to fly home. It
wasn’t a major success, but it wasn’t a failure by any stretch of the
imagination. The first part of the trip went fine, but then my
connecting flight was cancelled because of poor weather conditions on
the East Coast and I was stranded in Connecticut. No chance of a
flight out until the following day and, as a few phone calls revealed,
no chance of a hotel room anyplace near the airport.
The airport itself was packed and a seat in any of the bars or
restaurants was as precious as gold. I wandered around for a while
and finally found myself in a little bar at the far end of the
terminal. I didn’t see any place to sit other than tables full of
guys and I’d resigned myself to going back to sit near the gate when a
soft voice from behind me asked, “Would you like to join me?”
I turned and saw a redheaded woman in her early thirties smiling at
me from behind a small table for two. There was an empty seat and I
sank into it with a grateful sigh. The redhead held her hand out and
we shook. “My name is Sara Hill.”
“Hi,” I said, “Samantha Tyler.”
“Hi, Sam. Care for some wine?” She gestured at the bottle sitting
on the table.
I nodded. “Love some, thanks.”
She waved and a harried barmaid brought another glass. I asked her
to bring another bottle of the same wine.
It turned out to be a wonderful White Zinfandel that tasted
delicious. Of course, at that point Hemlock would have probably
tasted delicious. Sara and I discussed the weather and our current
situation for a while and then we talked about our reasons for
traveling. I told her about my job and she told me that she was an
attorney with one of the Federal Agencies in Washington.
By the time we finished the second bottle of wine I was feeling no
pain. I put some money on the table and thanked Sara for sharing it
with me. “I guess I’ll go and try to find someplace to put my head
down for a few hours.”
Sara grinned at me and said, “Don’t rush off in such a hurry. Then
she held up a plasic keycard and I recognized the name of a national
hotel chain. “I have a room upstairs in the hotel. If you like you
can use the spare bed. You’re in no shape to spend the night alone in
the airport!”
I hesitated and then accepted with a smile. I waited while she
counted out some money, then followed her out of the bar and down the
concourse to the hotel. I was pretty drunk and leaned against her in
the elevator. When we got to the top floor, she guided me off the
elevator and down the hall to her room. She got me inside and I made
a beeline for the bathroom. I got there just in time and crouched
over the toilet as I threw up.
I glanced up and saw Sara standing in the bathroom doorway, an
enigmatic smile on her face. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’m not used
to drinking.”
She grinned. “I’d kind of guessed that. Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
“Good. Now lets get you in the shower.”
I stood up, shakily, and she started to undress me. I stood there
and let her strip my clothes off. Then she helped me into the tub and
turned the water on. I screamed as a jet of ice-cold water poured
over my body. Sara held my arm in a tight grip and made me stand
under the cold water until I was shivering violently. Then she turned
it off and handed me a towel. I stepped out of the tub and she took
another towel and began rubbing my back briskly.
When I was dry, but not much warmer, she guided me out of the
bathroom and into one of the double beds. I saw her disappear back
into the bathroom and dozed off as the water started running again. I
was half-asleep, but still shivering, when she slipped into bed with
me. I protested when she slipped her hand between my legs, but she
was stronger and I was still groggy from the wine. She threw the
covers off and made me get up on my knees. She forced me to spread my
knees and clasp my hands behind my neck. When I resisted, she slapped
me. I knelt there, sobbing, while she masturbated me to orgasm. It
was humiliating and I felt ashamed even as my body betrayed me.
The night seemed endless. She kissed me and fondled my breasts and
then masturbated me again. And again. I begged her to stop, but she
paid no attention. At one point, I put up another brief fight but she
pulled me across her lap and spanked me until I was sobbing. Then she
put me on my back and began to lick my thighs. I closed my eyes and
moaned as her tongue pushed between my labia. She brought me to
orgasm at least three times with her tongue. When she finally stopped
I fell into a fitful sleep. The next morning when I woke up she was
gone. I showered and dressed and flew home in a daze.
I called the wedding off a few days later and returned my
engagement ring. A week after that I was fired from my job after a
shouting match with my boss. Two days after I was fired I got an
envelope in the mail. Inside was a plane ticket to Washinton and a
slip of paper with an address written on it. I gave the key to my
apartment back to my landlady and told her she could dispose of my
personal belongings and clothes in any way she saw fit. I closed my
bank accounts and sold my car.
I arrived in Washington on the eighth of July, a hot muggy day. I
was wearing a cropped t-shirt, denim shorts, and sandals. I had one
small carry-on bag with a few personal effects and a change of
underwear. I took a taxi out to the address I’d been given. It
turned out to be a large brick colonial in Georgetown, in one of the
wealthier areas. Sara answered the door when I rang the bell.
She smiled when she saw me and invited me inside. I shook my head.
“First, I want you to promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
I took a deep breath. “I want you to promise to kill me when
you’re done with me.”
She smiled. “Is that all? Of course. I’ll take you to Virgina,
out into the woods, and you’ll hang naked, slowly strangling, while I
sit and sip some wine.” She stepped aside and I walked into her house
to begin my short life as her lez toy.