The Training of Melissa Ch. 01

I posted the note on the inside door and went upstairs to shower. After I dried myself off, I put on my robe and made my way back downstairs. I let the dog out back, poured myself a tea and sat down on the armchair facing the front door. I turned on the TV and started to answer text messages.

The front door opened and Melissa walked into the vestibule. As she approached the inside door she stopped and read the note: "(ARRIVE). STRIP. CRAWL. BEG. SUCK. SWALLOW. RECEIVE. CRAWL. DRESS. (LEAVE)."

The door to the hallway opened and in crawled Melissa. She had a wry smile on her face as she moved towards me, on hands and knees. When she got between my legs she stopped, looked at the gift-wrapped box on the side table then up into my eyes and said, "Please let me satisfy you Sir."

I opened my robe. She moved close and lowered her mouth onto my cock. She arched her back as much as she could and started to suck hard. One hand went to my shaft and started to pump as she bobbed her head up and down on my head. Her other hand moved between her legs and she put fingers into her pussy. She pulled them out and reached her hand up to my mouth. I sucked and tasted her fingers and enjoyed her sweet wetness.

As Melissa continued to suck and pump, I answered text messages from Sam, Beth and Mistress, and sipped my tea. After a few minutes I felt myself getting close to cumming so I put my hand on the back of her head. I pulled her closer, forcing her to take me deeper down her throat. I kept quiet and still as I came into her mouth, my cock pulsing and twitching as she swallowed as fast as she could.

She released my cock from her mouth with a plop, and sat up on her knees. I handed her the wrapped gift, placing the bow between her teeth. She crawled away, her cute ass and hips rocking side to side as she went, back outside the door. After a few minutes I heard the outside door open then close quietly. ...

the following week...

We had thoroughly discussed the situation beforehand. We both knew what was expected of us.

...

She arrived precisely at 7:00. She didn't knock; she simply turned the knob of the front door, walked into the vestibule and closed the door behind her. She hung up her coat, took off her shoes and undressed, placing her clothes in the wicker basket on the floor. She opened the hall way door and stepped in, quietly closing it behind her. She walked straight to the stairs without making eye contact with him. She slowly made her way up the stairs to his bedroom and sat on the end of the bed. She adjusted the cuffs and collar to make sure they were positioned just so. She picked up the mask and put it on, ensuring it covered her eyes completely. She waited.

She had done exactly what she had been told to do.

...

Recently, through a series of texts, chats and phone calls, Melissa and I had discussed where she was coming from with respect to D/s play.

A few years ago she had come to Canada from Chicago to study art at OCAD in Toronto. She had dated a few people over the first couple of years but nothing was serious. She eventually met up with a former business partner of her father's who had started working in the city, and who regularly travelled between Chicago and Toronto. They started periodically meeting for coffee or lunch. It was a time for her to find out what was new in her hometown, to hear about her family and to chat about life in Toronto. Chuck was about 55 and she had always thought he was a nice, handsome and considerate man.

The first time they fucked was after a lunch date that turned into them spending the entire afternoon in a pub drinking wine. He invited her back to his downtown condo and they made out. She hadn't had sex in a while and was quite horny. After they had stripped he bent her over the back of his couch and fucked her hard and fast, without any tenderness. Afterwards, he made no attempt to please her. They talked for a bit then she dressed and went back to her apartment.

The sex continued like this for months. Over time he became more and more aggressive and physical with her. He would sometimes pin her face down and fuck her, he would spank her, choke her, gag her. He would do whatever he wanted to do to get off. He never tried to make her come. He never licked her clit or fingered her pussy, unless it was done roughly. The only attention he paid to her nipples was to bite or pull them, always too hard to feel good.

But at no time did Melissa feel coerced to meet Chuck. She found she looked forward to their semi-regular sessions. She had started to enjoy the domination. She felt great afterwards. She questioned her motivation a bit, but in the end decided that it was simply a new side of herself that she had discovered. It wasn't unnatural or unhealthy.

About half a year after it started, she got a call from Chuck telling her that he had to stop meeting her. His wife would start to spend time in Toronto along with his son and he didn't want anything to fuck things up. She was disappointed but had expected as much to happen eventually.

She said that it wasn't the particulars of what he did that mattered to her, it was the fact that he just did whatever he wanted to do. He never asked permission. Her being completely controlled was what turned her on.

...

I sat in the living room waiting for Melissa. I had put on my blue suit and tie, and wore black, leather-soled shoes. I heard the front door open and waited for Melissa to come in and get ready. When the hall door opened and a naked Melissa walked in, I studied her intently. Her hair was up and she was wearing the fours cuffs and the collar I had given her on her previous visit. She didn't make eye contact; she simply made her way slowly up the stairs to my bedroom.

I waited a few minutes, then got up and walked to the kitchen, my shoes making a loud clopping sound on the hard wood floor. I mixed a martini and took it upstairs with me.

I walked into the bedroom and saw a beautiful, pale-skinned young lady, sitting bolt upright on the end of my bed. The Madri Gras cat mask was on her face, the eye holes covered with black silk so she couldn't see a thing. Her hands were demurely placed on her lap, which starkly contrasted her rock-hard nipples. I put my drink down on the bedside table and moved to stand in front of her. I put a finger in the loop on her collar and pulled up so she knew to stand. I walked her to the side of the bed and had her lie down on her back with her hands and feet pointing to the four corners of the bed. I attached the cuffs to the rings at each corner of the bed and tightened the straps until there was virtually no play with her arms or legs.

Earlier in the evening I had placed a cane chair beside my bed. I sat down in the chair and sipped my martini, observing her gentle breathing, her pert nipples, the small goose bumps on her thighs, and her well-manicured finger and toe nails. I finished my drink, stood up and slowly left the room.

I walked down the two flights of stairs to the basement and opened up the storage cupboard. Inside was a large candle, matches, a small desk lamp without a shade, and an extension cord. I put all of these things into a basket and carried them up to the kitchen. I mixed another martini, grabbed the basket and made my way back to my bedroom.

I placed the lamp on the bedside table, plugged it into the extension cord then plugged the cord into the wall. I put the candle on the table and lit it with a match. I sat back down on the chair and sipped my drink, thinking about the taste of Melissa's pussy and the feel of her smooth, soft skin. She looked colder than before, goosebumps were covering her thighs and breasts. I went to hall closet and retrieved two fleece blankets and laid them on her, one on her upper body and the other on her lower half. She flinched a bit when the blanket first made contact with her skin.

Given the candle wax needed time to melt and the bulb needed time to heat up, I decided to bring my drink down to the living room and choose some music to play. While pondering my music choices I answered some texts messages, and ate some cheese and crackers. I picked a Miles Davis album and started it on the turntable.

...

During our talks, I had shared with Melissa my reticence about being physically dominant with her. I didn't think I would want to intentionally hurt her or abuse her. In fact, that would be a turn-off for me. I did agree, however, that I had no qualms about controlling her, instructing her to do things, and lightly dominating her. She admitted that it was the desire to be controled, her need to give herself completely to someone else, and her desire to shut her brain off that excited her. They were needs she thought I could satisfy.

We decided that our D/s sessions would be themed. I would be the one to choose the theme of the evening and would make sure they were carefully planned in detail. But the two of us would decide the date, time and place for our sessions. I also said I would text the day before a session to tell her the theme, what to wear and what, if anything, she needed to bring.

Friday evening when I was out at dinner I texted Melissa the message: Fire & Ice.

...

I walked to the fridge and opened the freezer door. I took out the two ice trays and the container of water popsicles I had prepared earlier. I filled an ice bucket with the cubes of ice and placed the water popsicles among them. I rummaged through a drawer for the ice tongs and added them to the bucket. I made my way back upstairs with the bucket and my drink. I placed the bucket on the chair and looked down at the spread-eagled figure on the bed. Melissa was resting quietly, her chest rising and falling rhythmically under the blanket. I finished my drink and started my work.

I carefully removed the top blanket, feeling heat rise up from her body. I gently touched her chest. Her skin was warm and slightly moist. I removed the second blanket and noticed the goosebumps on her thighs were gone and the hair between her legs was slightly wet. She was ready.

I noisily picked out up a water popsicle from the bucket and held it over her upper body. I let a drop of ice water fall on her stomach. She flinched then let out an, "Mmmm." I put the tip of the popsicle on the top of her right foot and slowly dragged it up her leg, zig-zagging back and forth, leaving a thin trail of water as it went. When I got to the front of her hip I stopped and let the ice rest on her skin. Ice water slowly began to pool in the indentation. Before the water starting running off between her legs, I started moving the popsicle again, bypassing her hairy mound and stopping on the front of her other hip. I waited for more water to pool and, again, before the water began to pour off, I slowly started moving the popsicle down her left leg. When I reached her left foot I wedged the popsicle between her big toe and second toe and left it there. I reached into the bucket, took out two more popsicles. The first, I wedged between the toes of her right foot and left it; the second, I gently lay on her hair-covered mound.

I picked up a third popsicle and, starting at her navel, dragged it up her stomach to her chest. I focussed my attention on her breasts, repeatedly brushing the tip of the ice over her already hard nipples.

As I continued playing with her nipples, I looked down at her pussy. The popsicle resting on her mound was half melted and had soaked her pubic hair. I reached my hand down and felt how cold the hair was. I slid farther down and felt her cold outer lips.

I stopped playing with her nipples and touched the popsicle to her mouth, dragging it across her lips. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, licking the ice. "Keep your mouth open," I said as I started sliding the popsicle deeper down her throat. When I touched the back I stopped then pulled it out. She sucked on it as it passed her lips then swallowed hard. I dropped it carelessly on her stomach.

I moved from the bed and picked up the lamp off the bedside table. I leaned back over to the bed and slide a finger deep into Melissa's pussy then hooked it up as I dragged it out. Her wetness was dripping off my fingertip as I touched the bare, hot light bulb. An audible, "hisss" could be heard as the liquid boiled on contact. "Perfect," I thought. ...