What happens when a single man is left alone in a stranger’s apartment, after having seen the lady of the house in her undies, and gets caught red-handed? An examination of male fantasy and female empowerment

The train from Budapest left me at the station in the northern suburbs of the Czech capital city. As I walked towards the main area of the station, thinking about the accommodation offices that would still be opened at 7:30 PM, I was approached by a well built middle-aged blond headed woman.

“Room, zimmer?”

This could save me some time…After all I had a nice place in Budapest from just such an arrangement and Krakow had been the same.

“Where is this room, Madam?” (After all, I know Prague, and had no plans to spend my nights in a distant suburb). She indicated on a map just such a suburb. “No thank you, I want to be nearer the center.”

“The center? Old town? I can arrange for you a room there. Wait one minute, please.” She pulled a cell phone from her purse and made a call. “The room is available, I sometimes help a friend this way. She showed me on the map a little street behind the Tyn Church.

It was a miracle, if the place was decent. “Okay we’ll go check out that room, thank you.” A metro ride, a short walk and we were at the building. She rang the front doorbell and opened the door as the buzzer sounded. Two flights up, we again waited at a door. A boy in his teens let us in. I saw an entrance to my immediate left, followed by a cabinet with shoes placed on the lower shelf. There was a guest register opened on the side near me. At the end of a long hallway I saw the woman, slim and red headed, the genuine article, with fair skin and faint freckles, in white bra and a half-slip, standing in front of a wardrobe. My companion greeted her and then turned to me saying our hostess would have come to greet me in person, but she isn’t dressed.

I facetiously said “No problem, I’ll take my pants off” but something happened to me at that moment and I knew that I was helpless before that red headed woman. The boy’s older brother appeared from the inner depths of the apartment and took control. It turned out that he had the best English in the family. He showed me the room at the left and the bathroom on the other side of the cabinet in the hall. It was the same bathroom that the family used. I took the room and paid for two nights. By this time my hostess was dressed and the two boys were about to dress for the theater. My hostess came to greet me and I began to fantasize.

I awakened early in the morning as is usual for me and waited in bed until I heard everybody leave the place. Sleeping in the nude and sharing a bath with a family has some inconveniences. Neither did it help that all my under-shorts are thongs. But that’s me. I approached the bathroom, certain that some additional family member would appear out of nowhere, embarrassing me in my nakedness. But to my ambivalent disappointment, I was quite alone. I showered and shaved, then returned to my room and dressed. At this point I ventured into the apartment to see how the family lived. There were three bedrooms, one very small off the kitchen. The master bedroom was also very small, with room only for a dresser, thus the wardrobes in the hallway. I left for the day.

In the evening I kept to myself. Next morning was much like the previous one. Only this time I set out for my apartment stroll with nothing on, clean and dried after my shower. I hesitated at the door to the master bedroom, wondering what I would do, naked in this barren room. But an inner force drew me forward and I walked straight to the dresser. I opened each drawer and looked at my hostess’s intimate clothing, panties, stockings, girdles, nightgowns, slips, and bras. I sighed, thinking of the red headed woman and felt myself go hard. I reopened the top drawer and looked at her assorted panties. I took out a new looking pair of white nylon of the hi-leg style. I fondled myself with them and then bent over and put them on. I began to stroke my stiff member through this smooth slippery fabric. God, was I hot! I was close to climax when I heard a noise; I looked around at the door and saw my hostess, face-to-face, back home for who knows what reason. It was a dream come true and at the same time a nightmare. Caught jerking off in a woman’s panties, by the owner of said panties, a woman who spoke no English, and had absolutely no idea what had happened inside me that first evening. I was the weak one here. Because my embarrassment was greater than hers was and because I felt from the first that I owed her, I decided to make my humiliation complete. Looking straight at her I removed her panties, placing them on the bed and exposing my softening penis. I apologized profusely in formal English, explaining the psychological problems of the single male. I doubt that she understood a word. She remained in the same place in the doorway where I had seen her when I turned. I could not leave the room unless and until she stepped aside.

Finally she said something to me, first in Czech and then in German. I did not understand. She raised her right hand and made a circle in the air. I understood that she wanted me to do a full turn and obliged her. Now she indicated a half turn. I turned again, showing her my backside. She clapped a few times and as I turned to look at her I saw her smiling.
“How may I be of service, Madam?” I said, bowing. She came in, sat on the edge bed with her legs apart a little. She showed me in sign language that I should lie across her knees. I did so, with my head near the floor and my right hand supporting my upper body. She grabbed hold of my left and at the same time I felt her right hand come down hard on my buttocks.
“My God! She’s spanking me! How did she know? She’s probably a psychologist who specializes in problems of the single male”. This I said to myself… I had long fantasized such an adventure but the pain was real. It was stinging; there was no relief, one after another, no pause for thought, slap, slap, slap.

I was being punished for a sexual transgression. In my fantasy she had always stopped and rubbed the pain away between batches of slaps. This was not the same. Now the pain was beginning to take over. I wondered if I should cry. Suddenly a pause, but I didn’t feel her relax the grip on my left hand. Then I felt her; she had adroitly separated my cheeks and touched my asshole. She began to play with it and delicately penetrated me. Now I was being finger-fucked. I had also fantasized this, but during hot sex and not a disciplinary spanking. I thought that my humiliation was indeed complete. The spanking had been too painful to rouse my tool from its bashful hibernation. Now that it had ceased and I was receiving a prostate massage, I began to respond. When I was fully hard she suddenly stood up toppling me on the floor, flat on my sore red bottom. She indicated that I must stand up with my face to the wall. It was a relief not to have to face her. She left the room briefly. I looked toward the door as she disappeared. Then she was back pointing at the wall.

I looked at the wall again, wondering what treat she had in store for me. Suddenly a flash went off. She had captured my red ass on film. I looked at her in desperation. That was a mistake too. She signed me to face her and jerk myself off, as I had been when she first showed up. I began, realizing that this had been another of my fantasies. She snapped another picture of my humiliation, this one showing my hands on my hard-on. Then she said something and I stopped. She wanted my hands on my head, (like a criminal) and snapped a photo of my erection. I couldn’t take any more. I wanted to evaporate. She called to me and I followed her to my room. “Maybe she’ll send me packing. That’ll be a relief”, I thought. She showed me the register on the cabinet outside my door. She held up two fingers. “But I paid for two nights already”, I complained. She slapped my face. “Two more nights”, she said in hesitant English and then added something in Czech and raised her hand as if to slap me again. I signed the register for two more nights and paid in advance.

She left the apartment again and I was free for the day. I began to wonder what was happening. It was as if she had logged into the sexual fantasy site in my mind. At the same time I knew that was impossible. I don’t go for theories of psychic powers. I began to question my fantasies…my secret innermost sexual desires and she not only seemed to know them all; she knew how to twist them from longings to fears. I began to dread what would happen when she came back. If my theory was correct she would return in the evening with a sexy maid uniform and instructions that I should bathe as usual in the morning and then dress in the uniform, with my buttocks peeking out below the short skirt as I spent my vacation cleaning her apartment. After finishing the day’s work she would dress me in a police uniform or cowboy costume before my striptease performance for her lady friends. When I was completely unclothed the women would pass me around fondling my cock and spanking or goosing me.

Finally I would be expected to do a masturbation show for their entertainment. That was why she wanted me there for two more nights. Were these really my fantasies, all of them? How many had I seen on the Internet? Then again maybe they were her fantasies more than my own. Maybe a man’s fantasies of humiliation coincide with a woman’s fantasies of empowerment. More than likely nobody could keep track of his or her fantasies any more now that we anonymously share ours with anybody who’s interested.

Whatever it was, something inside me cracked and her magical power over me was gone. With whatever dignity I had left, I went back into her room, put on the pair of panties that still lay on the bed, dressed, packed and left the apartment, depositing the keys in the mailbox as the boy had requested the first evening. The next couple of nights I slept in a hotel…cold, impersonal, and safe.