Greasepaint!

She was under no illusion of what she meant to him...he didn't love her, he owned her and there was a huge difference, one that he reminded her of when she forgot.

But it didn't stop her loving him. She had tried so much not to care, not to want him, but she adored him and she needed him far more than he could ever need her and she had grown to accept it over the years.

There were the odd days when she would allow herself a tiny thought of what it would be like to be truly loved by him...but then she would slip up, an error brought on by her girly daydreams and he would punish her and she would remember he was incapable of love.

She looked at the dress he had left her on the bed...poured herself another glass of champagne and cursed it with her lips...she hated that she had to dress up...it always reminded her of the circus clowns her father used to love...sad men who would paint their faces and try to make others laugh when really they were dying inside.

She took a small bottle of brandy from the mini bar and emptied its contents into the glass of champagne and drank it whole...wincing she wiped her lips on the back of her hand and head held high she grabbed the dress and made her way towards the dressing room.


The bang on the door startled her and she panicked, throwing her makeup into her bag before checking herself in the mirror

'Georgiana' he bellowed. She looked towards the door, but never answered. 'Georgiana' he banged again. 'Come on...you'll be late, I've no time for your melodramatics today, young lady,'

There was no hesitation this time as she opened the door, like a trained monkey she did what her Master ordered.

He smiled at her as she stood in the doorway, motioning for her to step into the bedroom so he could study her closer. He walked around her, she could feel his gaze moving up and down her body as if he were the purchaser. He said nothing, no approving noises, no disapproving sighs. But she knew she looked good and she knew he would be pleased.

'Arch your back more,' She did. He stroked her ass, slapping it lightly but hard enough to make her jolt forward.  'That's for keeping me waiting,'
'Yes Sir,' she kept her emotions in check, blinking a couple of times, but knowning not to look at him directly.

'What's your name?'
'Isabella Mirachenko, Sir,
'And what brings you to Paris?'
'Love...Sir,'

He smiled 'I like it when you say that,' he laughed, breaking his Masterly tones for a second. 'And I almost believe you, unfortunately I know you Georgie, you're just a little whore,' He slapped her ass again, this time harder and she yelped. 'I'll see you down there,' He kissed her on the cheek and he was gone.

Walking slowly across the room she poured herself another glass of champagne, her eyes for a second filling with tears, before she reminded herself of who she was...she was a whore and whores don't cry!

Copyright - Darling Productions/Addy Cooper - 2009 - The Bedroom Thieves (Storyblog)
2009