Training

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You meet your master in a hotel.
4.8k words
4.4
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The email message was short and brief; just the name of a motel and a room number, with the words “7:00 pm Wed. ….. Bring your toys,” written beneath it. I felt a shiver run through me as I read the words. I carefully packed a travel bag with my dildo, vibrator and butt plug and put it out in the car that morning. All day, I could feel myself growing more excited, and more nervous, as the hours sped by.

I pulled into the parking space in front of the room number at 6:59 exactly. The curtains were drawn over the window; no light could be seen in the room. I grabbed my purse and my travel bag, stepped out of the car and went to the door. It was only 4 short steps, but it felt like a mile, I was so keyed up with anticipation of what was waiting for me behind that closed door.

I knocked on the door, three raps, a pause and a then a fourth knock, as you had taught me to do before. Five seconds passed …. I started to panic. Did I go to the wrong room, or the wrong motel? Did you change your mind or were you upset with me and not there? Just as I was about to turn and go back to my car, the click of the deadbolt being opened was like the crack of a rifle to my overwrought senses. I jumped as the door slowly opened to reveal a pitch black room inside.

I hesitated on the doorstep, part of me wanting to bolt and run, part of me curious to find out what awaited me in the dark. Then I heard your voice softly say, “Come in, little one. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

I stepped through the doorway into the darkness, my eyes straining to find you in the light spilling in from the open door. Again the urge to run welled up inside me, until I heard your voice from off to my right say, “Close the door, lock it, and stand facing the room.” The tone of your voice, soft and commanding, cut through the panic and touched my submissive side.

I stood in the dark, my ears straining to tell me what my eyes couldn’t. My heart was in my throat, my stomach fluttering like dozens of butterflies were trapped in it. I heard a faint sound of movement to my right, and the light next to the bed went on. A dark cloth had been draped over it, to dim the light to a soft glow. I turned my head and saw you sitting in a chair next to a table. Your black bag was sitting on the floor next to you, and you were dressed all in black. I felt myself start to tremble as you sat and stared at me, silent and still as stone.

After what felt like hours, you sat up and said, “Come here.” I crossed the room and stood in front of you. You held out your hand and I gave you my travel bag. You placed it on the table and motioned for me to put my purse on the other chair. I turned back and stood in front of you again. Your gaze traveled from my hair, neatly pulled back into a ponytail, down across the buttoned blouse to the skirt, to the low heeled pumps on my feet and back to my face. A slight smile told me that you were pleased with the way I had dressed for you and a little bit of the tight knot inside me relaxed.

You leaned over and unzipped the black duffel bag on the floor. You reached inside and pulled out a riding crop. I gasped and my eyes widened with shock when I saw it in your hand. You had shown it to me before but had assured me that we would not play with it until I was ready. My eyes flew to your face and met yours carefully appraising me, noting the look of terror that I struggled so hard to subdue. You smiled ever so slightly, and whispered, “Did I give you permission to look at me, little slut?”

I dropped my eyes instantly to your chest, watching the soft rise and fall of your silky black shirt as you sat there, watching me. You lifted the crop and I gasped again, although much softer than the first time. I closed my eyes and felt the tip of it brush my left cheek ever so gently, and heard you say, “Good girl.” Another knot inside me loosened, and I felt myself sink further into submission.

I opened my eyes and willed my wildly beating heart to slow to a steady beat. I watched through lowered eyelashes as you raised the crop and brushed the tip along the length of buttons on the front of my blouse. “Take it off,” you ordered, and with trembling hands, I slowly unbuttoned the blouse, slid it off my shoulders, folded it and placed it on the table in front of me. A quick glance at your face caught the smile as you saw my breasts swelling over the top of the black corset I had on. “Very nice,” you murmured, and my stomach fluttered with the words of appreciation. “I’ve pleased him,” I thought, and relaxed further.

The tip of the crop brushed the waistband of my skirt, and without being told, I unfastened it, drew it down over my legs, stepped out of it and folded it, placing it on top of my blouse on the table beside you. Again I risked a glance at you, and was rewarded with a smile as you saw the black stockings, garter belt and black mesh thong that I had on. At that, a warm glow filled me, starting between my legs and spreading throughout my body, and my eyes filled with tears of happiness, blurring my vision as I lost myself in the glow. I blinked and with a sense of panic, realized I was looking straight into your eyes. I dropped my gaze, but not before I saw the smile change to a frown of displeasure. The glow became an icy waterfall inside me, and a shiver ran through me, my heart pounding again.

“Turn around,” you said in a clipped, angry voice, and as I turned, I instinctively put my arms behind me to shield my ass with my hands, expecting to feel the kiss of the riding crop across my bare bottom. You grasped my wrists and pulled me back a step closer to you. “Oh yes, little one, you will be punished for that disobedience,” you murmured, “But not until I’m good and ready to.” I felt you wind a silky scarf around my wrists and tighten it, knotting it securely before letting go of my arms. I swayed for a second, regaining my balance and your hand was suddenly steadying me before withdrawing again. Your hands caressed my ass cheeks for a few moments, and then you reached up and slid the thong down over my hips, past my knees and let it drop to my ankles. Again your hand on my arm steadied me as I stepped out of the thong lying on the floor. You reached up and began loosening the laces closing the back of the corset, tugging it down over my waist and hips and letting it drop to the floor as well. I stepped free of it, and you softly said, “I don’t think you need shoes on, do you?” “No, Master,” I whispered and stepped out of them.

Your hand tightened on my upper arm as you stood and pushed me before you towards the side of the bed. The sheets had already been pulled back and were lying in a pile against the foot of the bed. You always picked this motel for our sessions because the beds all had metal framed head and foot boards, perfect for bondage. In fact, soft cotton ropes were already tied to the four corners of the bed, with leather cuffs fastened to the ends of them. You helped me onto the bed and laid me on my side facing the center of the bed. “Knees to your chest,” you instructed, and I curled myself into a fetal position with my back to you.

There was a mirror on the wall opposite me, and I watched as you turned away from the bed and returned to the table. You picked up my folded clothes and placed them on the chair on the far side of the table. As you bent to pick up the thong and corset, I couldn’t help but notice the bulge of your erection tenting the front of your black pants, noticeable only when you turned your profile towards me. With your foot, you pushed my shoes across the carpet until they were under the chair. You opened my bag, took my toys out, and laid them in a row on the table. Then you bent down and picked up your black duffel bag, placing it on the chair that you had been sitting on. I watched in the mirror as you took out a black leather strap, a leather cat, a blindfold, a length of rope, and finally, a bottle of lube and a bottle of lotion, placing them in a neat row next to the crop on the tabletop. You glanced up and our eyes met in the mirror for several seconds before I looked away.

I closed my eyes and a tremor shook my body as I thought to myself, “Now you’ve done it. You’ve disobeyed him twice …. Once he might forgive, but never twice.” The mattress shifted as you knelt on the edge of it behind me, and as my eyes flew open, you covered them with the black satin blindfold, tying it securely behind my head and making sure it was covering my eyes completely. “If you can’t remember to control your gaze, little one, I will have to do it for you,” you said, and the mattress shifted again as you moved away. My ears strained to listen as you crossed back to the table. Your footsteps were softened so much by the carpet that I didn’t realize you had returned until you sat on the bed next to me. Your hand stroked my soft white cheeks and you murmured, “Such pretty white skin will look so much prettier with a healthy blush …. And maybe a few stripes, too.”

I trembled, and you continued, “I have been very patient with you, because of your lack of training and your eagerness to please, but I see now that indulging you has been a mistake on my part. You are in danger of becoming a spoiled pet, instead of a cherished one, and we cannot have that, now can we?” You moved slightly, and I heard the distinctive snap of a surgical glove being put on. “It’s time to continue your training, little one,” you said. “Open yourself to me.”

You guided my bound hands down to the crack between my cheeks and waited as I parted them with my hands, exposing my puckered rosebud to you. I felt the coolness of lube being trickled onto it, and then the cool touch of a gloved finger slowly circling the opening, spreading the lube and massaging gently. “A good sub must always be prepared to submit to her Master in the most intimate of ways, little one. And to do that, you must learn to relax and open yourself to me, so I can take my pleasure of you,” you said softly as you continued to drip lube onto me and massage it with your finger. “Even if someday I decide to let others play with you, this will always be my private property …. Do you understand, my pet?” you asked. “Yes Master” I whispered, my voice shaking with both fear and anticipation.

You slowly pushed the tip of your finger into me, and I fought the urge to tighten myself against the intrusion. You inserted your finger up to the first joint, then slowly withdrew it, and repeated the action several more times, each penetration becoming easier as my muscles began to relax. You poured more lube onto me and this time continued penetrating me until half the finger was inside me. Again, I fought to relax as the pressure and slight sting accompanied your finger moving into me. “Very good,” you murmured as your finger slid in and out, spreading the lube slowly into my dark passage with each gentle insertion. Before I realized it, you had slid your entire finger into me,and slowly began to wiggle and twist it inside me, chuckling as you watched a spasm of pleasure course through me. “Yes, little slut,” you said, “How good it feels to obey your Master and give yourself to him. You should do it more often,” you concluded, and you smacked my bottom with your other hand, your finger still deep inside me.

You slowly withdrew your finger, and I relaxed my hold on my cheeks. Another sharp smack of your hand on my ass accompanied your words. “Did I tell you to let go? Keep yourself open. We are not anywhere close to done with this part of your training, little slut.” You got up off the bed and crossed to the table again. You returned and sat on the bed behind me. Your fingertips stroked my cheeks, the nails scratching lightly across the surface. You continued in a soft, measured tone, “You took the finger very well, opening to me faster than I expected. That was the easy part. Now comes the hard part, not only opening, but being stretched and filled. I know you will do your best to please me and make me proud of you.”

You poured a generous amount of lube between my cheeks, and before I could catch my breath, I felt the tip of the butt plug pressing against my opening. You began to push it into me, and this time the pain was much sharper than it had been with your finger as the plug forced the tense ring of muscle to give way under the pressure. I could feel my eyes fill with tears as my breath caught in my throat, and a deep moan of discomfort escaped me. I began to beg, “Please, Master, no …. It hurts … I can’t do it … Master, please stop.” You stopped pushing, but kept the plug in me, and with your free hand you began to stroke the small of my back, my buttocks and my hips. “Relax, little one …. The more you fight it, the more it will hurt. You know that you need to be opened and stretched, so I can bury my cock in you and fill you with my cum. I don’t want to hurt you, my little slut, but if you fight me, I have no choice.” I took a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it out. You leaned over and I felt your lips brush my shoulder in a soft kiss, and you whispered, “Yes, my dear …. That’s it …. Such a good girl.”

You left your hand resting on my hip and said, “When you feel the pressure, and the sting, push out …. It will help the muscles relax and stretch to admit the plug. There will still be discomfort, but it will soon be over …. Trust me.” You began to push the plug into me again, and as the pressure and stinging built, I held my breath and concentrated on relaxing the muscles. Before long, I felt a popping sensation as the widest part of the plug passed through the last tight ring of muscle and was firmly lodged inside me. When you were sure that it was inserted as deeply as it could go, you said to me, “Ok, now you can let go.” My cheeks closed around the flange of the plug, holding it securely inside me.

Again your lips brushed my shoulder, and continued down my spine to the top of my crack. Each brush of your lips sent little electric shivers rushing through my body, totally distracting me from the slight pain of the plug inside me.

You sat back, and your hands rolled me towards the center of the bed, so that I was kneeling with my knees against my chest, my forehead resting on the mattress. I felt your hand grasp my right ankle, and you tugged it gently towards the edge of the bed. The touch of the leather cuff encircling it caused me to shiver again as you tightened the cuff and adjusted the tension on the rope. I felt you get up off the bed, and then your hand grasped my left ankle, tugging it into position and buckling it into the cuff. My legs were now spread with my ass in the air, my pussy fully exposed to you. “Ah, yes,” you said, “such perfect submission, my little slut. This deserves to be recorded for my lasting enjoyment.” I heard a click and a faint whirring sound as you snapped a picture from behind me.

I laid there in the dark of the blindfold, panting as my heart began to race again, wondering what you were planning to do with me in such a vulnerable position. You grasped my ponytail and tugged my head up off the mattress. “Open your mouth wide,” you said, and I felt a large wad of fabric pressing against my lips. I tried to turn my head and gasped out, “Please, Master, no … don’t gag me. I’ll be good, I promise.” “Now, now, little one,” you replied, “We can’t have your cries of passion disturbing the neighbors, or worse yet, making them think you are in need of rescuing. Open wide; you know this helps you to fully embrace the sensation.”

You carefully placed the knotted cloth in my mouth, checking to make sure that it was not deep enough to cause me to choke. You took your time securing it in place and tying it behind my head, checking the blindfold at the same time. You lowered my head back down on the mattress and said, “Good girl.”

I felt you press a rubber ball into the palm of my right hand. “Squeeze it,” you instructed. As I squeezed, it squeaked. “This is your safe signal, little pet” you told me. “Squeeze twice for slow, three times for stop. Do you understand?” I squeezed it once and felt your fingers stroke my cheek. “Good girl. How pretty you look like that.” I heard another click and whirr from the side of the bed. You moved to the foot of the bed again and said, “Lift your head and look over your shoulder.” As I obeyed, I heard another click and whirr as you snapped yet another picture. The knot of fear in my stomach grew as I wondered what was about to happen, yet at the same time I could feel a warmth start to spread from between my legs, where the wetness was already visible.

Your hand began to caress my bottom ever so gently, and in spite of my fear, I relaxed. The first blow of your hand was fairly soft, just a slight sting followed by the warmth of the blood flowing to the surface. You took your time, spanking 5 or 6 times, then caressing the skin, then spanking again. Each time you started again, the blows fell a little harder and lasted longer, making me moan and squirm as much as my bonds would allow. I could feel my ass burning with the heat of the spanking, and was sure that it was already flushed with a nice pink glow when you stopped, left the bed, and came back with a warm wet towel to drape over my throbbing cheeks. As the cloth eased some of the discomfort, you massaged my back and shoulders, telling me I was a good girl. You checked the blindfold and gag to make sure both were still secure, removed the cloth and dried the skin with a second towel, and made sure the plug was still firmly inserted in my bottom.

The first kiss of the leather strap startled me out of the warm haze that your ministrations had filled me with. I shrieked into the gag, the sound muffled to a soft squeak by the wad of fabric between my teeth. I felt the tears begin to well in my eyes behind the blindfold as the strap fell again and again, stinging the already sensitized skin and turning it an even deeper pink. By the time you stopped, I was sobbing into the gag, my face wet with tears …. and the wetness between my thighs was starting to run down them. You sat next to me on the bed, loosened the gag and took it out of my mouth. “Easy, baby,” you said. “You’re ok …. Take a deep breath …. That’s it. Good girl.”

You slipped a tiny piece of ice into my mouth, and I gratefully sucked on it, my mouth totally dried out from the gag. You fed me a couple more small pieces of ice, letting me lick your fingers as well. Then you stroked my head and said, “We’re not done yet, little slut. You still need to be punished for disobeying me.”

A tremor ran through my body at your words. My ass was already on fire from your hand and the strap. A small whimper escaped me as you continued, “Because you were such a good girl, I will do something I ordinarily wouldn’t. I will let you choose your punishment.” Your hand was stroking my back and shoulders as you said this, and in spite of my fear I felt myself relax a bit at your gentle touch. “Here are your choices, little slut,” you said. “You can take 12 strokes of the cat …. And I mean 12 full strokes, not the little love taps you have had before …. Or you can take 6 strokes from the riding crop.”

“Oh my god,” I thought, “What is he asking me to do? I can’t make a choice like that.” You continued to massage my back and shoulders as I lay there debating inside my head. “Come on, little slut …. I’m not going to wait all night for you to make a decision. If you don’t choose, I’ll choose for you.” I swallowed hard, drew in a ragged breath, and in a whisper that you could just barely hear, I said, “The riding crop, Master.” As I said that, your hand stopped stroking and rested on my shoulder. You gave it a gentle squeeze, and I sensed that you were pleased by my choice. You knew how terrified I was of it the first time you showed it to me.

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