While continuing with polite responses to Michael's predictable dialogue, she was soon lost in her fantasy scenario of what would transpire with this fascinating couple later in the evening while continuing with polite responses to Michael's predictable dialogue.

The extended white limousine rolled silently along the socially prominent Upper East Side. Passing gloved doormen hailing cabs in front of opulent hotels; they drove by Madison Avenue's toniest shopping precinct until pulling to the curb in front of a nondescript building on 92nd Street that happened to be the most private club in the city.

The chauffeur quickly opened the door and the "Mystery man" and his beautiful companion stepped out of the limousine and walked briskly to the entrance of the club. The door opened automatically, and they entered. A short, pudgy, but elegant man in his fifties greeted them.

"Good evening, Mr. Banning, Miss von Stade."

'He knows my name,' Marion thought, 'what kind of arrangement has Banning made for this evening?'

"Henry," Mr. Banning nodded. "Do you have my case?"

"Yes, Mr. Banning," Henry said and strode to an overstuffed chair, picked up a briefcase and quickly returned to the couple, handing it to Banning.

"Thank you Henry, your efficiency is always appreciated."

"Oh, you're very welcome sir. We hope you enjoy your stay with us."

"I'm sure we will. It's room 313 isn't it?"

"Right sir, 313 as usual, sir."

Banning accepted the key card and he and Miss von Stade left the lobby that was not a lobby and headed to their playpen rendezvous.

Moments later, hidden from view behind the tall mahogany doors of the luxury suite, Banning sat in a comfortable overstuffed chair watching and waiting as Marion emptied the briefcase's contents on the bed. A melange of sexual toys poured out onto the bedspread. Banning crossed his legs and nodded. Marion von Stade smiled and began to follow the first of her Master's explicit instructions, after placing a cassette tape in the deck and turning it on, she moved to the center of the room, removing her garments slowly to a choreographed dance. She teasingly peeled the apparel from her magnificent body.

Languidly swaying in front of him, Marion manipulated her body, using the erotic bumps and grinds of a stripper and that of a belly dancer. Marion was soon nude, but continued dancing, gradually arching her body like a bow so as to present her shaven pussy for him to view. Banning nodded again and Marion dropped to her hands and knees, holding her ass high, inviting his further inspection. She adhered to a long established routine and backed toward him, silently praying for his approval. Marion knew failure to gain his approval meant harsh punishment for her and while she "enjoyed" the pain to some degree, his harsh punishments were to be dreaded.

Marion recalled the last time, when he'd said, "This will hurt me more than it does you, my sweet pet," in the saddest possible voice. Her body trembled. She reminded herself once again that he was a most loving Dom who believed that pain should never be a form of punishment. "It is the way," he would say, before flogging her.

But to Marion, the worst punishment consisted of those words followed by his denial of any contact between them for three consecutive days. Long, drawn out days that left her with an emptiness and a heavy heart that she found excruciating. Marion much preferred physical punishment, regardless of the pain inflicted on her simply because it was over quickly.

But tonight would bring no punishment, Marion reassured herself. Tonight would only bring joy. She felt secure with the inspection that was about to begin as she had a waxing earlier in the day. There was no telltale stubble to irritate him. 'Go ahead,' she thought to herself, 'look at me. Touch me. You can't help but be pleased with me. And I will pleasure you my Master.'

Thoughts of giving him pleasure always aroused her. She existed simply to please him, for she worshiped and obeyed him in any and all ways that he could conjure up as challenges to her. She loved and trusted him implicitly. He was her shining star.

Marion came back to reality with a jolt. Banning had bent forward and leaned in towards her, examining her closely. He was spreading her ass cheeks wide apart so that her pinkish brown pucker beckoned to him. An enema taken earlier had left her fresh as a budding blossom and the oil she'd massaged into her pliant buttocks would fill his nostrils with an airy scent of jasmine.

"Clean as a whistle," he said, playfully slapping her ass.

Discretely, Marion breathed a sigh of relief.

"Very good my little pet." he said in a flat monotone voice, "You've managed to please me. Now present your pussy to me."

Her forearms slid slowly forward, her forehead coming to rest on the thick carpeting as she thrust her ass higher. His soft hands slid down her satiny twin globes. The very tip of his nose traversed her secret crevice down to her dampened slit. His breath left a hot, dry trail of glowing red coals that seared her skin. Pausing at her labia, Banning pulled back for a better view. Using his thumbs, he parted the naked petals before him and smiled at the wet pinkness that greeted him. A thin white lube was now oozing from her and her womanly scent was evident. Banning told himself that Marion was his most precious gift.

Marion shivered under his fingers as his hands casually glided down the silkiness of her inner thighs to her calves and back up again. Laughing to himself, Banning bit Marion's ass hard --- then licked soothingly.

She moaned loudly.

"What a good girl you are," he breathed close to her ear as his fingers dug in her flesh, kneading and raking. His groomed nails left a track of red lines, designating his signature of satisfaction.

"Ohhhhh, master . . . . ."