Introspections Ch. 05

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Training begins in earnest.
4.4k words
4.56
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Part 5 of the 15 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 01/08/2016
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HR1983
HR1983
86 Followers

She awoke suddenly, noting automatically he wasn't in bed with her any longer. The shower running in the master bathroom clued her in to his whereabouts and she wandered toward the open door. "Good morning," she called out. The water turned off.

"I'll be out in a moment. Go ahead and get dressed, unless you'd like to join me." Not waiting for a response, he turned the water on again.

When he came out of the bathroom wrapped in his robe she was standing next to the dresser, fully dressed and glaring at him accusingly. "What did I do now? I was only joking!"

"It's not that. You had underwear in there." She put her hands on her hips and he struggled to remain straight faced.

"I know I did. In several sizes. They were all for you though, I swear. I didn't know what size you would be. So I'm in trouble for buying you underwear? They're not even all that sexy."

She stared at him pointedly, as if he should be following her train of thought without effort. "No, you're in trouble for never giving it to me."

He couldn't hold back his laugh in time. "Did you expect me to? It was just one more thing to cut off your body if you forced me to strip you naked. You have open access to it now, and you can wear it whenever you want, okay? I promise I won't even cut it off you, at least without getting permission in advance. Forgiven, please?"

"Not yet." But she, too, was holding back a smile now.

"You brat. You may as well make breakfast while I get dressed." She didn't leave the room as he'd expected.

"What? You want to pick out my underwear? I'll let you," he dared.

She sighed, exasperated with his teasing. "I don't cook. I reheat. Can barely boil water."

He turned away from her, reaching into a drawer to pull out some boxers. "Figures. I pay a quarter million dollars for a slave who can't even cook. Oh well, you can make it up to me later. There's plenty of cold cereal in the pantry."

When he turned around again she was staring at him, stunned. "A quarter million dollars?"

"Yes Hannah, I paid him a quarter million dollars. Just over that, actually. You were worth every penny, even if you can't cook. I actually enjoy cooking, I think we can manage. Bowls are in the top cupboard, next to the sink."

"Where the hell did you get a quarter million dollars?"

"Seriously Hannah? Can we have this discussion over breakfast? I'm dripping on the carpet here."

She spun around and stomped out of the room, leaving him shaking his head in confusion. Every time he thought he was starting to understand her she surprised him. He wondered if letting her call him by name had been a mistake, though he had nearly melted when she did. He yanked a shirt from its hanger and began to dress.

When he came into the kitchen she was seated at the table in his usual seat, naturally. He ignored her subtle defiance, pointedly sitting down in her usual chair and calmly pouring himself a bowl of cereal. "Well?" she demanded expectantly as she handed him the milk.

"If you must know my parents were both only children who came from money, and my dad was a big shot corporate lawyer in a multimillion dollar company on top of that. With Sarah gone I inherited it all. I've made a few wise investments, and I'm living well below my means. A quarter million dollars wasn't petty cash, but it wasn't a hardship either. Like I said, you are worth it Hannah, if you happen to be the type to think an individual's worth can be measured in dollars. I'm not that type. Are you going to hate me because I'm rich?"

"I don't hate you," she said, suitably appeased.

"As pleasant as that is to hear, you probably will again by the end of the day. Will you please eat so we can get started?"

That drew her back into reality, and they both finished their breakfast in silence before moving into the living room, where he sat on the couch and motioned for her to kneel on the floor in front of him. He started off by taking her through her positions again, relieved to find she still knew them all perfectly.

"Good. Time for some rules. Rule number one, when I give you a command you obey the first time, every time, without hesitation. Is that clear?" She nodded, not at all surprised at this expectation.

"This is important Hannah. If you even hesitate in front of them I'll have to punish you then and there, and I really don't want to have to do that."

"I know, I get it. After all, if you spank me in front of them I'll have to kill you later, and I really don't want to do that. What's next?"

He swatted at her. "Cut it out you minx, this is supposed to be serious. When in the presence of others you must always refer to me as Master, and them as Sir. This is an exclusively male run organization with a leader who delights in viewing women as less than men so you won't need to worry about mistresses."

"That's a relief, I suppose. I am decidedly not bisexual. Next rule please, Master?"

"We'll limit it to three rules to keep it as simple as possible. You stay right behind me, slightly to my left, within arms reach at all times for your own safety. Eyes down, ears open, mouth shut. Think you can manage that?"

"Believe it or not I can keep my mouth shut when my life depends on it. That I have practiced. Is that all, Master?" She was trying to keep things lighthearted, but he could tell she recognized how vital the rules were for both of them.

"That's all of them. Now you recite them back to me until you can tell me every one, word for word, in any order."

He was pleased to find she really was a quick learner, and she soon had them all down. He ran her through positions again, then glanced at her somewhat nervously.

"I suppose if you've never been romantically involved with a guy you've never seen one naked before. Unless they..." he died off, not really wanting to ask.

"Not except in porn. Not even them, thankfully. They kept me naked but stayed fully clothed themselves, probably as yet another form of dominance. I guess it's about time, right? We can hardly have me fainting in shock in front of them. Does this mean I get to order you to strip?"

He smacked her on the cheek lightly. "Just this once, you vixen. Can't have you topping from the bottom in their presence. Male dominants only, remember." She seemed totally at ease, and he felt surprisingly self-conscious.

"Come on, get it over with. You only have a few hundred pornographic images to be compared with after all. Besides, you've already slept next to me half naked, I know you have decent set of abs."

He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal those abs, tossing it over the back of the couch, then figuring he'd get it over with quickly he shimmied out of both his jeans and his boxers at once. He wasn't particularly small, but he didn't consider himself well hung at about six inches half mast and if he was entirely honest he hadn't stood naked in front of all that many women awaiting a critique.

"Nice cock," she announced rather glibly, but he noticed she was blushing. With him standing up and her still on her knees, she definitely had a decent view. "I suppose you want me to suck it."

His cock hardened noticeably at the suggestion. "They'll probably expect a show of some sort, but we don't have to try it now. You don't have to like it, or even pretend to like it. It will probably actually look more submissive if you obviously don't."

"We may as well start now. Apparently practice makes perfect. I can't comment on my technique. It's probably not as easy as it sounds in books."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's really not that complicated, just suck and swallow. No need to deep throat on your first try. Just let me lead. Go ahead." He was fully erect now.

Hesitantly she took the tip in her mouth, running her tongue around it. He gently wrapped a hand in her hair and guided her deeper. She carefully sheathed her teeth and began bobbing up and down about half his length, exploring him with her tongue, experimentally humming softly."

He moaned in pleasure. "Damn it girl! What books have you been reading? Those romance novels must be racier than I thought. Can I go deeper?"

She nodded and he pulled her toward him deeper until she gagged, then quickly withdrew most of the way. "You doing okay?" She nodded again, looking up at him, and when she met his gaze he nearly came on the spot.

"Whoa there sweetheart, I am close. It's less messy if you swallow, but you don't have to. At least not this time." She responded by running her tongue around the tip again and tightening her lips around his shaft. He came suddenly, and she managed to swallow most of it, only spitting out the last mouthful.

"Good girl". He drew her to her feet and guided her to the bathroom, where he washed her face with a washcloth and offered her a toothbrush. "Are you really okay? Can't say I've ever tried it, but I imagine the taste is not all that pleasant."

She rinsed her mouth. "It's certainly not my favorite, but I think I'll manage. Can you get dressed now?"

"You mean you don't intend to keep me naked all day? I wouldn't mind."

She shook her head and tossed a towel at him. "You can cover up, I think I've seen enough for now."

When she emerged from the bathroom he was fully dressed again. "I hate to leave you, but I really have to go to town and I don't dare take you with me. If you swear you won't run I won't lock you in the basement."

She sighed. "As much as I'd like to explore your playroom, I'd rather not be locked away. I promise not to run, at least not without you along as protection."

He smiled. "You're more than welcome to explore my collection in the playroom, but don't get carried away with the toys. Rule number four, still no coming without permission. It's a couple hours to town and back so I probably won't make it home for dinner. Feel free to reheat anything you find in the kitchen."

He glanced over his shoulder as he entered the laundry room, and found her still looking at him. "Goodbye for now sweetheart. Try to stay out of trouble. I'll see you soon."

Alone in the house for the first time she considered her options. Gazing out the front window she noted track marks in the muddy road indicating the direction he had taken and she momentarily considered breaking her promise. Being fully dressed, with warmer weather and the snow partially melted, significantly increased her odds of reaching civilization and calling for help before he even realized she was missing. After all, she had only his word that anything he had told her was true.

She was realistic enough to realize it was possibly an elaborate hoax intended to manipulate her into giving him her unquestioning trust. That being said, she also realized if that was the case leaving her unsecured could be a carefully designed trap to determine if he could trust her to stay put.

On the other hand, it could all be the truth, and running now could move her from a tolerable situation into one much worse. The pit he had found her in was bad enough, but the one thing she knew she could count on unquestionably was additional torture at the hands of her trainer and the bastard if she was recaptured by his organization. The thought made her stomach churn and trying to evaluate potential motives was making her head spin.

Besides, if she was completely honest with herself she was enthralled by the unfamiliar feelings she was experiencing and unsure about how she felt in regards to simply returning to her monotonous former life. Furthermore, if there was any truth to his claims there was also possibility of revenge against her former captors, and potential for assisting the other girls who remained in their captivity.

Eventually she decided against making another break for it, at least for the time being. Hopefully if she changed her mind later on her further cooperation would ensure additional opportunities for escape.

With that decision made, her second thought was discovering what other secrets his tattered file folder held. She searched the kitchen and living room for it, but it was nowhere to be found. The next likely location was his desk, so she headed to the master bedroom.

His desk was annoyingly tidy, she was beginning to think he had an obsession for orderliness and control. Under the desk was a likely looking file cabinet, but it was locked with no sign of a key. That plan abandoned she turned her attention toward the computer.

The screen saver came up automatically when she moved the mouse, but of course it was password protected. Though she was aware of the high probability of earning herself a punishment, she made several guesses including multiple variations of the name Sarah. No luck, but it also didn't lock her out so she figured her prying would go safely unnoticed.

Her explorations had killed less than an hour, so she dug through the pantry to find something to eat. It occurred to her that simply deciding for herself when and what to eat was now considered a privilege, and she winced at the thought. How quickly her perceptions of privilege and rights had been transformed!

On the top shelf she discovered a couple chocolate bars, and she grinned. The situation could not be completely hopeless if there was chocolate to be found.

Grabbing one of the bars she settled on the couch with the TV remote, flipping through stations randomly. She came across a local news station for Denver, so at least that much of what he told her was true. It didn't seem she had missed any significant news stories or major world events, but it was a relief simply to know the rest of the world still existed.

She mischievously considered pulling up a pay-per-view porn flick, but found she couldn't predict his response and decided it wasn't worth the risk. Instead she found an old romantic comedy. It was nice to loose herself in somebody else's imaginary life for awhile.

As the show ended she found she was hungry, so she pulled some leftovers out of the fridge to reheat. She hadn't been kidding when she told him she couldn't help with the cooking, but she could help with cleaning so she washed the few dishes in the sink and wiped down the counters. Of course since he was obsessively tidy that task didn't take long at all.

By now she was positively bored. She moved to the stairs hesitantly, unsure of her willingness to find out what other potential tools of torment and torture he had in his collection. Finally her curiosity won out and she moved down the stairs through the unlocked basement door and into his so-called playroom.

His sense of order carried over to his toy collection, the drawers contained carefully sorted collections of restraints, gags, vibrators, and anal plugs. Most of it was easily identifiable after her exploratory porn sessions, but there were a few items she wasn't sure about and she wondered if she would ever work up the courage to ask him about them.

Moving to the wall she considered the tools mounted there. She passed quickly over the whips, but her eyes lingered for a moment on a variety of paddles before settling on a flogger. Remembering his threat to experiment with one she hesitantly extended her hand and ran her fingers through the soft strands. She closed her eyes and imagined him running it teasingly over her body, wondering if it would sting pleasantly or burn painfully if he thrashed her with it.

"Why are you still dressed?" She jumped with fright, lost in her own thoughts she hadn't heard his footsteps, though he didn't intend to sneak up on her. She looked at him guiltily.

"You said I could be down here," she reminded him.

"I know I did. I also made it clear that down here you stay naked, so why are you still dressed?" His tone was serious, but meeting his gaze she discovered a teasing twinkle in his eyes. She considered apologizing and darting for the stairs, but decided to play along instead.

Maintaining his gaze she slowly drew the teeshirt she was wearing over her shoulders, pausing before drawing it over her head to give him ample time to drop his gaze to her breasts. Tossing the shirt aside she ran her fingers teasingly downward toward her waist. He raised his brows in approval and she smirked at him. She had never tried a strip tease before, and found she liked the sense of control it gave her.

The jeans she'd found in the dresser were a tight fit, so after unzipping them it took a bit more effort to slip them off them and her movements weren't quite as graceful. He didn't seem to mind. Finally she kicked them aside.

She now stood before him wearing only the pale pink low cut panties she had chosen from the underwear drawer that morning. They were a conservative selection, but he still found them enticingly sexy. Reclaiming his gaze she carefully reached up and clasped her hands together behind her head, then stood waiting for his response.

"Hannah sweetheart, you are a merciless tease and a natural slut, though I mean that in the nicest way possible. I can't imagine how you've maintained your virginity this long without driving the men around you absolutely mad. Are you going to make me cut that underwear off you?"

She shook her head. "No need to ruin them, I couldn't find where you hide the scissors anyway. But if you want them off you're going to have to take them off yourself."

He took that as the dare it was intended to be and made his way rapidly across the room. Moving behind her he grasped her around the waist with one arm, using his free hand to slowly draw the underwear down around her ankles. When he released her she cautiously stepped out of them. He turned her to face him, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Do you trust me Hannah?"

"Not completely," she admitted.

"I love your honesty sweetheart. Are you willing to let me play with you anyway? If you want me to I'll drop it and walk away right now."

She looked away bashfully, but gave him the answer he was hoping for. "No, don't. I want to play."

Without giving her a chance to change her mind he scooped her up and deposited her on the adapted dining room table, carefully affixing straps around her wrists and ankles. "Let me know if they get too tight," he warned.

He moved across the room, running his fingers over several tools before reaching the flogger he'd caught her caressing. Standing over her he smiled wickedly, running it over her torso. "Did you think I didn't notice?"

She tugged on her straps experimentally, finding herself securely fastened. If he didn't want to stop she certainly wasn't going to be able to escape him now.

"Tell me Hannah, did you find anything interesting in my desk?"

Her eyes grew wide and she tested the restraints again, more urgently this time. "How did you know?"

He chuckled. "I didn't, but I do now."

She cringed. "Relax Hannah. I expected your curiosity. I'm not about to leave anything sitting around I don't want you to have access to. This is play, not punishment."

She eyed him doubtfully. "Shouldn't we have safe words or something?"

He leaned over her, gently cupping a hand around one breast. "You're a slave sweetheart, at least you're playing the role. I'm not giving you a safe word. You're going to have to trust me. I won't push you past your limits, as long as you keep your eyes on me I can read you like an open book. I know you well enough to understand if you can stop this and don't you're going to beat yourself up for liking it. This way you have no choice but to let me be in control of your pleasure."

With that reassurance he lifted the flogger and softly brought it down on her breasts. When that drew no response he struck her stomach with a slightly heavier blow. A few more strikes to her breasts finally brought a breathless sigh. He alternated between breasts, stomach and the inside of her thighs, always carefully watching her response. Teasing, he drew the flogger between her legs. "I wonder what would happen if I strike you here!"

HR1983
HR1983
86 Followers
12