"You weren't sent to fuck me then"
"No, I just came to see if you wanted a sandwich" she replied as they lounged on his bed and she idly kissed his chest.
"I am sorry, really."
"No it is nice to be spontaneous sometimes, I saw you come in, I was hoping, well you know I was, you know, ready, down there, hoping we could have a drink or something then you seem to have missed the drink stage out altogether."
"If you don't leave me alone you will find yourself fucked again."
"Promises, Promises, OOooh," and he slid effortlessly into her dripping wetness again.
The Theatre crowd dispersed and after warm tasteless plonk with the talent less cast desperately trying to laugh in the right place at His Highnesses jokes and then the torture of complimenting the paranoid depressive writer on what was actually pretentious crap, they went back to the Hotel.
Sharing a bed with His Highness, she hated it, she dreamed of Paul, four floors and a million miles so it seemed away, but she needed this night, consummation with His Highness at around the right time so Hodgkinson's child might appear Royal.
She sought the secret weapon, the bridle and harness Sharon had used to such effect.
Her travelling dresser, Marion, helped her with the transformation, she showered and Marion adjusted the Harness of brown leather and brass to fit her sylph like form, a broad leather belt around her waist a leather garment around the base of her breasts, long thigh boots with strange arched soles and no heels, she decided to refuse the idea of a tail hanging from a plug inserted in her anus, but condescended to have her hands strapped into the hoof look alike boots and to have the bridle with the reins put over her head.
Marion fitted the bridle but misunderstood and put the bit in place, and before she could stop the girl she realised she could not speak, or make herself understood, then she saw and felt Marion prepare the horse tail Butt plug lubricate it with Vaseline and shove it in her rectum, it hurt, it felt huge, but it was done and she could do nothing except live with the discomfort.
She admired herself in the Mirror, the head dress plumes were tired but the bridle and the way the straps around her breasts accentuated their perfect form and the wide waist belt and the Boots with horse hoof ends laced tightly on feet and Hands.
He was in his bathroom showering but his reaction on leaving the bathroom was amazing and with a mighty bound his prick went form zero to max in split second, and he grabbed her round the buttocks, brushed the tail aside and entered her, his passion uncontrollable.
The mission accomplished she tried to convey that she wished to speak, but He sent Marion away. She could not grip the bit to remove it and he realised her pedicament and fastened her reins to the bed leg, she could not move more than four feet and curled up by the bed in frustration.
He gazed longingly at her and his prick slowly recovered and this time he tenderly entered he with love as he saw it unheeding of her unwillingness to co operate, The stale spendings from earlier eased his passage into her. He left her tied up, dirty from his ejaculations, unable to move far or communicate.
She needed the bathroom, she pointed to her crotch, "In the morning, I am knackered," and he claimed the whole bed and doused he lights falling instantly into a deep sleep.
She could not wake him, or use the phone, she was trapped by her own stupidity.
Her bladder was bursting and during the night she disgraced herself by relieving it in the hideously expensive rich pile carpet.
Morning came and as the first streaks of Dawn appeared, she felt pawing and suddenly he was ready to use her again, he looked so happy and excited that she did not have the heart to refuse and opened her legs wide and he entered her.
"I think I will have you dressed this way every night."
"Muppphf Fof."
Even someone as stupid as he could not misunderstand her reply.
