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.