Chapter 1
It was a hot weekday afternoon in Dallas. Nelson Froline drove his big car into the parking lot of the Dorando Hotel.
He parked the car and got out. He was a handsome man in his early forties. He was six feet tall, lean, with a runner's slender physique.
He had dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. He wore a pale blue shirt, slacks, cowboy boots and carried a small overnight bag.
The Dorando had been built at the turn of the century. In better days, it had been one of the premier hotels in Dallas. By now it had slipped some and was no longer a first class hotel. It housed mostly traveling salesman and middle class visitors to the city. It was a bit shabby and not quite respectable.
Nelson entered the lobby. He didn't know it, but he was being followed.
Nelson spoke to the man at the desk. The clerk rang upstairs and told a tenant in the hotel that Nelson Froline had arrived. The tenant said to send him up.
Nelson picked up his bag, entered the elevator and rode up to the sixth floor.
A moment later, the man who was following Nelson entered the hotel. His name was Tyler Reed and he was a private detective.
He was a long, lean, raw-boned man who looked like an old time cowhand. He had high cheekbones and gray eyes. He wore a cowboy hat, a shirt, jeans and boots.
The clerk at the desk was a fussy, fidgety man with glasses. Reed asked him which room Nelson Froline had gone up to and who he was seeing.
The clerk got huffy. He told Reed it was none of his damn business.
The clerk said, "It is not the policy of this hotel to snoop into the comings and goings of our guests and their visitors, sir. Please leave-"
The clerk's eyes widened when he saw the twenty dollar bill that Reed slid across the counter. It was a crisp, crackling, brand-new twenty.
Reed said, "I'm just asking for a little information, cousin."
The bill disappeared as the clerk palmed it and stuffed it in his pocket. He looked around nervously to see if anyone had observed the transaction. No one had.
The clerk said, "Mr. Froline is going to visit Miss Blaine, Miss Marla Blaine. She's been with us here for a month. Room 605."
Reed drawled, "What can you tell me about her?"
The clerk moved his hands through the air, forming the outline of a curvy, voluptuous woman's figure. He leered knowingly.
"I reckon this Marla Blaine's kind of a hot number, eh?" Reed said.
"She's a very handsome woman," the clerk said. "We haven't had any trouble with her. She's neat, quiet and pays the rent without a fuss."
"Where's she hail from?"
The clerk checked the register. "New Orleans, it says here. There's a previous address, if you'd like to have that." He held the register ledger.
"Sure would," Reed said. He reached for the ledger. The clerk pulled it back, out of his reach. Reed sighed wearily. The clerk's eyes glittered.
"I could get in real trouble for giving this out," the clerk said.
Reed slipped him another ten. The clerk was disappointed that it wasn't a twenty, but Reed told him he wasn't paying that much for an address which could be phony.
The clerk took the ten, then slid the register over to Reed. Reed copied Marla Blaine's previous address into a notebook, then put it away.
Reed said, "This here Marla Blaine - she have a lot of men visiting her? Men friends? You know the kind that I mean."
The clerk asked, "Are you connected with the police?"
"Hell, no, cousin. I'm a private detective. I ain't involved in anything that'll involve your hotel in any kind of a scandal."
"In that case, you could say that Marla has more than her share of male admirers." The clerk smirked knowingly.
Upstairs, Nelson Froline got off the elevator at the sixth floor and walked down the hall. The carpet was frayed and had a rose pattern on it.
He halted in front of Room 605. He set down his suitcase on the floor. His palms were sweating. He wiped them off on his trousers.
He knocked on the door. He knocked so weakly the first time that it couldn't be heard. He summoned up his courage and knocked harder.
"Just a minute," came Marla Blaine's voice from inside the room.
Nelson's face felt hot and burning. His stomach was a knotted ball of tension. He sweated heavily as he waited for Marla to open the door.
She opened the door a crack, leaving the chain on. She peered through at him. Nelson saw a sliver of her face, her eyes, her brunette hair.
Marla said, "I was sure it was you, honey, but a girl living alone can't be too careful." She closed the door so she could remove the chain.
The door opened. Nelson carried his suitcase into Room 605.
Marla shut the door, locked and chained it. She was a damned good looking woman, a voluptuous, full-bodied Southern beauty.
She was tall, about five foot eight in her bare feet. The high-heeled shoes she wore made her even taller than Nelson.
She was thirty years old. She had long, jet black hair, parted in the middle. It fell in shimmering waves to the center of her back.
It was the middle of the afternoon, but she wore a black satin gown. It fit tightly on her seductive, lush body.
Her skin was golden tan. Her eyes were deep and dark and her wide-lipped mouth was painted with glossy red lipstick. Her face was skillfully made-up.
She walked back into the center of the room. The satin gown was pulled taut across her buttocks and they rolled from side to side under the fabric.
"So you managed to get away for this afternoon," she laughed.
"Yes. I - I don't have to go home until dinner," Nelson said.
"That's good, honey, 'cause we got a lot to do this afternoon, you and I."
There were a number of bottles standing on top of a cabinet. Marla's room at the hotel had a living room, a bedroom and a bathroom.
There were lots of fresh flowers in vases, filling the room with sweet perfume. Marla splashed some bourbon over ice in a glass, then added a bit of water.
She returned to Nelson. "Before we can start having fun, darling, there is one important little detail to take care of." Her voice was smooth as honey.
"Yes, yes, of course." Nelson fumbled out his wallet. He pulled three bills out of it. They were each brand-new hundred dollar bills.
"Thanks, darling." Marla took the money. "Business before pleasure."
She went into the bedroom, hid the money in her special cache and returned to the living room. She held a leather strap and a length of rope.
Marla said, "What you got in that suitcase, honey? Your dress-up outfits?"
"Y-yes, Mistress Marla." Nelson's eyes were hot and shiny.
The leather strap was fifteen inches long, two inches wide and made of thick black leather. Marla let it dangle across her thighs.
She said, "Have you been a good little girl, or a bad little girl?"
"Bad," Nelson said. His voice seemed to have changed. It was now a breathless, husky whisper, rasping with excitement. "I've been a very bad girl, Mistress."
"I'm sure of that," Marla said. "And you all know what I do to naughty little girls, don't you, darling? I punish them. I make them behave."
Marla stood near him. Her gown had a plunging V-neckline. Nelson looked at the white tops of her smooth, soft, swelling breasts.
Her breasts rose and fell with slow, deep breathing. Her nipples, which were sharp and pointed, were only inches away from Nelson's chest.
Without warning, Marla slapped his face. His head rocked from the impact of the blow. There was the meaty smack of flesh against flesh.
Nelson shook his head. There was a bright red mark on his cheek, the imprint of her open hand. His eyes misted with tears.
Marla raised her hand again, as if to strike him. Nelson cried out and cringed. Marla laughed. She used her hand to caress his other cheek, the one she hadn't hit.
"Poor baby," she crooned. "You love it, don't you?"
"Yes, Mistress Marla, I love it." His voice still had that soft, quivering quality it had had ever since he entered the room. It was very different from his natural voice, which was deep and rich. He closed his eyes as Marla stroked his cheek. She toyed with his hair, twisting the strands into tiny ringlets.
Marla hauled off and slapped his other cheek. Nelson, taken by surprise, cried out. She said, "You were looking a bit peaked and pale, honey, so I thought I'd put some color in your cheeks. Wasn't that a nice thing of me to do?"
Choking back a sob, he said that it was. Marla said, "Like they say, actions speak louder than words. If you really want to thank me, you can get down on your knees and kiss my pretty and perfect little feet."
Nelson awkwardly knelt. Marla spread her legs shoulder width apart and rested her hands on her hips. Nelson lowered his face to the top of her right foot.
Her shoes had open toes. He pressed his puckered lips to her toes. He stuck out his tongue to lick them, but Marla scolded him for taking that liberty.
She said, "I told you to kiss them, not to slobber all over them! What an ill-mannered and ill-trained little girl you are! I can see that I'm going to have to give you what-for and tan your hide, before you'll be of any use to me!"
She made him kiss her other foot. Then she commanded him to rise and stand up.
She said, "The first and most important thing for you to do is to take off those ugly, horrible men's clothes. They look ridiculous on you. I ought to whip your ass twice as hard for daring to wear such ugly, unbecoming garments! Now get those clothes off and I mean right now! Move, you slut!"
Nelson's trembling hands quickly stripped off his clothes.
He was in good condition. His torso was lean and his belly was flat. His hips were slender and his buttocks were white and rounded and boyish.
His pubic bush was dark brown and thickly curled. His cock, while not erect, was thick and long and dangled against his left thigh. His balls were hairy and heavy in the sac. His body was lightly haired.
Marla said, "So, you don't wear any of your pretties under your street clothes, do you? That's very careful of you, very discreet. I like that."
She lifted the suitcase, placed it down on a table top and opened it. It was filled with frilly feminine garments. A sweet scent of perfume came out.
Marla reached into the suitcase and pulled out a garter belt. It was made of pink lace and had four fat, frilly garters.
"Now, this is more like it," she said. "How awful it must be to wear those clunky, unappealing men's clothes! I don't blame you for hating it!"
She closed her fist around his penis and squeezed it lightly. It twitched against her fingers. It stiffened and grew, thickening into a full-blooded erection.
Marla said, "You've got it bad, baby. Just talking about it gets you all hard. But I understand it. I feel sorry for you poor men. You keep the most plain undershorts against the most sensitive parts of your body. Now, we ladies are smarter. We keep the softest of silks, satin and lace against our tender parts."
She released his member. It was now fully erect and jutted from his hips like a horizontal handle of red flesh. It jerked and bobbed.
Marla pinned the garter belt around his waist. As she adjusted the tiny hooks which held the belt closed, she fondled his soft, smooth buttocks.
She squeezed his right buttock, kneading it. She said, "I feel sorry for your poor ass today, honey. I'm really going to tear it up. For your own good, of course."
Nelson shivered when he felt the lacy garment against his flesh. Goose bumps rose on his skin. His cock jerked in response to her fondling of his ass.
Marla said, "Let's see what else you all brought in that traveling bag. Oooh, you've got lots of pretties, don't you? Here, put these stockings on."
Nelson sat down. His bare buttocks rested against the velvet covering of an arm chair. Marla handed him a pair of white, rolled nylons.
Nelson extended his leg, arching his toes with ladylike delicacy. He pulled the stocking on his foot, arranging the toes and the heel in their proper place.
Then, slowly and carefully to avoid putting runs in the stocking, he pulled it up his long leg, rolling it over his knee and up on his thigh.
His trembling fingers slipped the metal garter tab over the stocking top, pinning it into place. Marla sipped her drink and watched him.
Nelson, utterly absorbed now, pulled on the second stocking. He stood up. He made a bizarre image, with his masculine, erect member and his swollen balls framed by the frilly garter belt, the fat garters and the white stocking tops.
Marla approved of the transformation. She took a pair of panties from the suitcase, spread them in her hands and dangled them in front of Nelson's hot, sweating face. The panties were pink satin, cut full, with lots of ribbons and lace.
"Here, put these on," Marla said. "Although it's really a waste of time, since they're only going to come down soon enough when you get strapped."
Nelson shivered as he stepped into the panties and pulled them up his legs.
Like the stockings and garter belt, the panties were in Nelson's exact size. The panties would have fit him perfectly, except for the way that his hard penis bulged them in the crotch, stretching them out of shape.
Marla fondled his member through the panties. "That nasty thing of yours spoils the look of your pretty panties, Nellie. I'll have to do something about that, but I believe that I'll dress you up before anything else."
Marla put a bra on him. The bra was white, with lacy cups. The cups had foam rubber inserts which gave the illusion of small but firm breast A slight covering of hair was on his chest. Marla frowned and pulled on the tiny hairs until Nelson cried out in pain. She said, "You'd look a hell of a lot more convincing if your body was shaved as smooth as a billiard ball, darling."
"You know that I can't do that, Mistress," Nelson whined. "My wife would notice something like that instantly and ask a lot of questions."
"Just tell her that you got a skin rash and that your doctor ordered you to shave yourself clean," Marla suggested.
"It wouldn't work. Charlotte is a very bright woman and she would surely check with the doctor." Nelson frowned. "Sometimes I think she suspects me now."
Marla said, "You know, I feel sorry for you, honey, leading a double life like this. Listen, why don't you just go to your wife and confess your desires to her? She might surprise you. I'd hate to lose a good customer like you, but I won't starve - you wouldn't believe how many good old boys in Dallas like nothing better than to get dressed up like good little girls. Why don't you tell your wife?"
"I couldn't," Nelson said, "I just couldn't. I wouldn't know how to do it."
"Just sit down with her and explain that you have certain desires. Tell her that nothing turns you on like being dressed like a woman," Marla said. "Hell, you never know. It might even turn her on. I've known plenty of wives who loved the idea of keeping their men in panties and dresses. In fact, I've even taught them how to dress and to dominate them. Your wife might love it."
"Charlotte would never understand," Nelson said. "They say she used to be a wild girl when she was younger, running around all night and getting her face and name all over the society columns. But now she's married and the mother of two kids. She just couldn't related to my cross-dressing."
"Suit yourself," Marla said. "It was just a suggestion, that's all. But you ought to think about it. After all, what are you going to do -spend the rest of your life sneaking around, searching for ladies like me who'll dress you and punish you and treat you like a girl in every way?"
"I might have to do just that," Nelson said. "Please, can we talk about something else, Mistress?"
"Surely - we can talk about the ass-whipping I'm going to give you. Hell, I ought to have my head examined, trying to convince you to tell your wife. In my business, handsome and generous men like you don't come along very often. Maybe that's why I wanted to give you some good advice. But you're too silly to follow it, which is just one more reason why you should have that bottom of yours whipped raw."
She held up a length of rope, the thin kind often used for clotheslines. "I'm through talking, Nellie. Now, you're going to get out. Since I know what a little baby you are, I'm going to tie you - after you put your pretty shoes on."
The shoes in the suitcase were made of white patent leather. They were in a large size which perfectly fit Nelson's feet. The shoes had pointed toes, high heels and tiny leather straps which buckled across the tops of his feet.
Nelson put the shoes on. The high heels accented the contours of his thighs and calves, so that they rippled under the clinging white stockings.
He held out his hands in front of him. Marla tied them together, binding his wrists. The ropes fit snugly but not cuttingly against his flesh.
Marla said, "You need some practice in walking, Nellie. You need to learn to take smaller, more delicate steps. This should help you learn faster."
Marla hobbled him. She slipped rope loops around his stockinged ankles, leaving about fifteen inches of rope between his feet.
She stood up. She picked up her leather strap and cracked it in the air. Nelson flinched when he heard the snapping sound of the strap cracking.
Marla said, "And now, your punishment has been delayed long enough! I'm going to teach you to be a properly behaved young lady if I have to whip ever inch of skin off your ass! March yourself into my bedroom, Nellie - you know the way!"
She cracked the strap against his buttocks, smacking his buttocks through the panties. Nelson cried out. His bound hands prevented his rubbing his sore bottom.
Marla hurried him into her bedroom. He couldn't move very fast, since the hobble caused him to take only small, mincing steps which made his bottom jiggle.
During her short stay, Marla had added some luxurious touches to the bedroom. The bed itself was covered with satin sheets which she had purchased. There were lots of frilly, feminine decorations and the air was heavy with perfume.
Like every room in the hotel (and just about every room in Dallas), Room 605 was comfortably air conditioned. The shades were drawn, dimming the room.
Marla flicked on a lamp. It was a small lamp with a pink, frilly shade.
She opened the top drawer of a cabinet and took a package from it. It was a garment inside a sealed plastic sandwich bag.
She said, "I've been saving these for you, Nellie. They're a pair of panties I wore yesterday when I went out shopping. You all remember what a scorcher it was yesterday. Well, I sweated and I sweated and I got these panties all gooey and sweet-smelling. So I sealed 'em up to preserve the aroma."
Marla opened the package and took the panties out. They were white lace with a cotton crotch. They were pungent with stimulating woman-smell.
Nelson's mouth watered when she held the panties in front of his face.
She said, "Open wide, Nellie darling." He opened his mouth. She wadded the panties up, after first turning them inside-out, so the crotch was on the outside.
She stuffed them into his mouth. She used one of her old stockings, which had a few runs in it and used it to hold the panties tight in his mouth. She knotted the stocking behind the back of his head.
Marla sat down on her bed. She hiked the hem of her satin gown up to the tops of her thighs, baring her long, luscious, lovely legs.
"Get over here, Nellie." She patted her lap. "You know the position by now."
Nelson minced over to her and crawled across her lap. His panty covered penis pressed against her hot thighs. Marla picked up her leather strap, pulled down his panties and mercilessly beat his bare buttocks.