WARNING TO THE READER: Like the rest of the stories, it does not contain explicit sex.
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I hadn't slept a wink all night, due to nerves. The hours of the day had passed slowly. I checked the clock. More than five. I had to hurry or I would be late for the meeting, and that didn't suit me at all.
I finished getting ready and looked at myself in the mirror. Of course, I was sure that my new "friend" would love my appearance. I was dressed exactly as he had indicated.
A tight white tank top, with fairly closed straps, clung to my torso and back, and exposed the very tanned skin of my shoulders and arms, adorned only with a black leather wristband.
Some very worn-out jeans, size 38, both tight and low-waisted, and some black Zara boots, which stood out quite a bit since the jeans were tucked in, completed my outfit.
I had my hair completely straight and loose, which already reached below my shoulders. Alex had explicitly forbidden me from cutting it in the last three months. The line of my eyes, outlined with a black pencil, stood out extraordinarily on my face, embarrassing me. A tough guy like me, with made-up eyes…mpff.
Although not visible, the underwear had also been carefully chosen: the famous black transparent microfiber thong from Olaf Benz, which I had already worn in Arena (see the story "Puteado en una disco de ambiente") and on top of that, some tight black cotton briefs from 2Xlist, with a wide elastic band, which could be glimpsed above the jeans.
The mirror reflected the image of a real slut, a rent boy, a gym provocateur, a neighborhood stripper…
I swallowed hard and left the hotel room, in the heart of Gran Vía in Madrid, immediately feeling the suffocating heat of July on my bare arms. I had been working in Madrid from Monday to Thursday for several months, and that hotel had become my second home. The fact that I wasn't in a familiar city, with no one who could recognize me, along with the possibilities that Madrid's size offered, had been decisive in my decision to meet Alex in person, a guy I had been talking to for several months, and who fit like a glove into the prototype of "master" that, after my first experiences (detailed in some of the previous stories), I still had in my head.
As I made my way to our meeting point, I nervously remembered my last conversation with Alex, and his words of farewell:
"I promise you that this weekend you will discover who you really are, melenas. You will make your most shameful fantasies come true, even those you don't dare to confess. I will make you behave like what you are, a slave, a slut born to serve me, and you will enjoy it so much after what I will put you through, that you will adore me forever. Your previous life will no longer make sense."
It was really incredible that words like these came from so...