Hotel Rules

I know the rules, really I do. While in a hotel – anywhere in a hotel, I am to be elegant, well dressed, obedient,  never cross my legs, never wear panties, never order a meal or drink for myself. In the room itself, I will be nude, obedient, and submissive in the extreme in addition to the other rules. I know this. Really. But somehow, I thought the balcony of our room would be “hotel” rules and not “room” rules. My mistake. I grabbed my robe and stepped thCCQPJQU6out onto the balcony to enjoy the third floor view. When Mister got out of the shower he stopped short when he saw me. He asked what I was doing and I told him, smiling, having no idea of what was to come.

“And you’re wearing that robe why?”

“I’m not in the room,” I answered smugly.

“Isn’t the balcony part of the room?”

Shit. I nodded. He was right. And so I walked back into the room, removing the robe as I did so.  He held out his hand I handed him the robe, then, he pointed to the balcony. My eyes widened with trepidation.

“But?” I began.

“You wanted to be on the balcony. I know you dislike public nudity, but that really isn’t the issue is it? You broke a rule and, per our agreement, a punishment is in order. This is it, Girl. I’ll allow you to face the room, but get back out there and stand with your lovely ass pressed against the railing. Do not move until I tell you. Now.”

Shit. Again. I HATE being exposed to anyone other than Mister! Still, I know better than to disobey this order. And so, here I stand, exposed, humiliated, and having learned that Mister is always to be obeyed.

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