I can't believe you're actually making me do this, I text Max.
Come on. I need this. I'll pay you double, he replies.
I sit for a moment, pondering his offer. Fine. Where do you want me to meet you?
I already sent a car. Should be there any minute.
I sigh and get up from my seat at the airport. I grip the handle of my black snakeskin suitcase and begin to walk toward the exit, my heels clacking against the tile floor. Max insisted that I come see him while he was in Cleveland playing the Indians. I must say, it's not as crazy or as far as other trips I have taken for him. I really shouldn't complain-I mean, he is paying me extra.
A warm breeze smothers my face and blows my black curls behind me as the sliding doors open for me. I scan the area, looking for my driver. I spot him and walk over, smiling.
"Hello," I say kindly, stepping beside the door.
"Hello, Miss Strong. Welcome to Cleveland." The driver-an older white man wearing a black suit-opens the backseat door for me, then taking my suitcase to put in the trunk. "Where to?" He asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"Do you know if there are any Cirilla's around here?" I ask, not even blinking.
His eyes darken in disbelief. "I may have to look that one up..."
Turns out, there is a Cirilla's on the way to the hotel. I force the driver to sit in the parking lot while I go into the sex shop. The door jingles as I step into the small building. I make eye contact with the woman at the cash register and smile pleasantly. Then I get to work. I pick up some handcuffs, a riding crop, flogger, a ball gag and some some new garters (a client of mine destroyed my other pair).
"Will this be all?" The woman asks me in a chirpy voice.
"Yes." I whip out my shiny debit card and hand it to her. She rings up the items one by one and then hands them to me in a large bag. "Have a nice day." I exit the store and walk confidently to the town car. "I'm ready to go to the hotel now."
"Very well..." the driver sighs.
I step out of the car, my Cirilla's bag in hand, and I come around to the back of the car to get my suitcase from the driver. I tip him generously and thank him for his discretion.
"Mr. Scherzer said that your room key will be available at the front desk. Enjoy your stay here." He slams the trunk and quickly gets into the car.
I smirk and begin to pull my suitcase behind me toward the hotel. I step through the doors and walk up to the front desk.
"Welcome! You must be Miss Strong!" The perky woman behind the desk says, flashing a forceful smile.
"Yes, I am..."
"Well, here's your two keys to the two rooms." She hands me two plastic cards.
"Two rooms?" I ask, confused.
"Yes, the one is for Mr. Scherzer's room and the other is for your room. It looks like you will be staying two nights with us."
"Oh," I murmur, trying to hide my embarrassment and rage. "Thank you," I say, clearing my throat.
"You're welcome. If you need anything, just let me know!"
I grip the two keys in my fist as I get on the elevator. I hit the '3' button and exhale through my nose. I decide to stop by Max's room first to... chat with him.
I knock on the door, trying not to bang my fist against it too hard. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"What?" Max asks, puzzled. It looks like he just got out of the shower-his hair is touseled and damp.
"You have staying in your hotel with your teammates?" I practically yell.
"Okay, calm down. Come in the room so no one hears us..."
I enter the room and let the door slam behind me. "What are you thinking, Max?"
"I just figured it woud be fun-like more scandalous."
"Ugh! I can't believe this. Do you want to get caught? My reputation is on the line here too, you know!"
Max is quiet for a moment, thinking. "I'll pay you triple."
That shuts me up. Triple? I could really use the money. Business is good but not that good. I clear my throat, swallowing my pride. "Fine. I'll stay. But now I'm really going to have to punish you."
The pitcher crosses his arms, smiling. "And I'll be looking forward to that. Now, go get changed. I'll be needing my beating tonight."
"Tonight?" I whine.
"Yes, tonight. Now, go!"
I huff and leave the room to go find mine. I realize that it's just down the hallway and a pit forms in my stomach. I walk passed all the closed doors, knowing that there are Tigers behind them.
I get changed quickly. I put on a black patent leather corset, black frilly boyshort panties (I'm not into that g-string crap), and my knee-high patent leather platform buckle boots. I try to keep my hands from shaking as I put on my classic black cat eye and bright red lipstick. I empty the contents of the Cirilla's bag into a black gym bag I brought, put on a long black trench coat, and then I'm ready.
I peer my head out the door, making sure the coast is clear and then I briskly walk down the hall. I use my key to get into the room and I find Max waiting patiently by the bed, down to his black boxer briefs.
"On the bed-now," I order, taking off my coat. Max flinches at the tone in my voice and then he complies. "Spread 'em."
Max outstretches his arms and legs, pointing toward each of the bed posts. I grab the handcuffs out of my goody bag and cuff him to the bed. I then take the gag ball in my hands and I climb onto the bed. I straddle his waist, running my fingertips along his cheek. I wrap the gag ball around his head, strapping it on. I can feel him grow harder beneath me. I smirk to myself. Perfect.
I get off of Max and stand close to the bed. I pick out the riding crop from my goody bag and take a deep breath. I run the end of the riding crop softly against his thigh and then I quickly pull my hand bag and smack him as hard as I can. His cries are muffled by the gag ball.
"No! No crying!" I hiss, whipping him again. "You've been a very bad boy, Max... now it's time for you to be punished!" Whack. "You're nothing, I tell you-nothing!" Whack. "You're just a small little bug that I can easily squash!" Whack.
Max's brows arched and furrowed with each hit of the whip. The skin along his thigh and abdomen are bright red and he is hard as a rock. Sweat slowly drips down his forehead and temples. The bed creaks as his arms and legs try to pull away from the posts to shield himself. It is a horribly delightful sight-a sight that I live for.
Out of nowhere, I drop the riding crop and I straddle him once more. I lean in close. "You're a small speck of dust in this world, Max. You live in a false reality. There's nothing special about you." I pinch his nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and twist as fast as I can. He groans in pain and pleasure. "You're nothing! Say it! Say that you're nothing!"
"I'm nothing," he chokes out, the gag ball distorting his speech. I squeeze harder. "I'm nothing!" His eyes grow intense and he throws his head back, reaching his climax.
"Good, glad we're on the same page." I maneuver off of the pitcher and I leave him, panting, on the bed, still cuffed. I grab a small baggie and a lighter out of the larger bag, picking a joint out of the bunch. I put it between my teeth and I put my trench coat back on. I open up the sliding door to the balcony and I light it up. I take a long, drawn out drag, keeping the smoke in for as long as possible. I then blow out through my nose.
I finish the joint, flushing the butt so that Max isn't held responsibe. I uncuff him and he rips off the gag ball. "Was this really necessary?" He hold the red ball up.
"It was to make sure you weren't too loud. "You're welcome." I chuckle to myself. "Hey, I never did ask you... how do you explain the bruises to your teammates? It's not like you slide or anything."
"Actually, no one has really asked. I don't really think anyone stares at anyone else when we're in the lockerroom." He laughs softly. "So are you going to stick around or head back to your room?"
"I better leave. Thanks for the offer though." I half smile at him. I gather up my tools in the gym bag and I tighten the waist tie on my trench coat. I look at Max and I lean in to kiss him on the cheek. I don't say anything as I leave. I look to my left toward my room, still smiling to myself.
"Um, can I help you?" A deep voice asks from my right.
I freeze. Oh shit! I slowly turn to face the man and I'm surprised to find Alex Avila, wearing blue pajamas pants and a white T-shirt, standing in front of me. I clear my throat. "Um... I'm just a friend of Max's. I was just visiting him..."
Alex looks me up and down, noting my boots. "Uh-huh..."
"...he got me a hotel room in your block."
"Which way is your room?"
I point behind me. "That way..."
"Good. The ice machine is down that way. I'll walk you to your room." He smiles.
I then realize that he is holding an ice bucket. "Oh... okay..." I smile a little bit.
He begins to walk past me and I follow him. I'm almost as tall as him in my five-inch boots. "I'm Alex, by the way."
"Elizabeth..." I hold out my hand and Alex shakes it.
"Can I ask you a question?"
My blood runs cold. "Uh, sure?"
"How do you walk in those boots?!" Alex's gaze is glued to the shiny leather.
I exhale, relieved. "Oh, you know, practice..."
The rest of the walk down the hallway is silent. We take turns glancing at each other. We reach the ice machine and Alex puts the bucket in place and presses the button. I stand there patiently, desperately wanting to get to my room.
The ice stops dispensing and Alex eyes me carefully. "You're not a prostitute, are you?"
My eyes grow wide. "What? No! God, no!"
Alex then grows red, realizing that his question was competely uncalled for. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you! I just thought because of the boots and the fact that you were coming out of his room in the middle of the night..."
"No, it's fine. I totally understand where you got that from. I kind of do look like a hooker."
Alex's lips fold into a tight line and there is a moment of silence. "I'm sorry," he says again.
"Alex, it's okay. Listen, I've got to go. But I'll probably see you around?"
The catcher doesn't say anything at first. "Yup," he croaks, still clearly embarrassed.
I stroll across the hall and slide my key into the lock. I open the door slightly and then turn around and wave at Alex.
