You asked for this. You wanted to peer inside the secret bag? Well, how do you like what you see, princess?
After securing my collar, Master clamps the matching wrist and ankle cuffs closed with an ominous promise to “engage them shortly.” He makes me stand at the ready while he pulls the implements out, one at a time.
The feather comes first, followed by the crop. Yes, I’m familiar with those two. He tosses them onto the bed.
His hand disappears into the bag once again, and my breath catches when I see he’s retrieved a paddle from its depths. It’s my first time seeing an actual paddle. This one is clearly a deluxe model. Smooth black padded leather crafted into a sleek rectangular design
He gives his palm a threatening thwack, causing his eyes to blink closed momentarily, and I can only imagine the sting that spreads through his hand. “Mmmm,” he moans, “I think you’re going to like this one.” The paddle is added to the pile.
“Hmm, let’s see, what else did I throw in here…yes, a few nice lengths of sturdy rope, what self-respecting dom would leave home without that?”
He casually tosses out a pile of coiled up ropes that look to be varying lengths. These are not the silk bindings that anchored me to his bed the other night. This is bona fide heavy duty bondage rope.
“Oh…wait…” He reaches in once again and draws out a handful of metal chain links. “I believe you’re familiar with this item?”
He pinches the leather handle and lets the chain uncoil dramatically toward the floor. A leash.
“Yes, Master.” I hear the shake in my voice.
He beckons me close to the bed with his index finger and wraps his legs around my hips to pull me against the bed. I feel the hard leather of his boots at the back of my thighs.
“This is exactly what I need today.” He clicks the end of the leash into the circle at the front of my collar. The cold metal links settle against my chest and stomach while he gathers the leather handle in his hand and pulls up the slack.
“So that’s it, princess. Now you know what was in my bag. Don’t worry, we’ll come back to these toys…after you’ve had some training.”
The high-back armchair is a perfect throne, and she stands patiently in front of me awaiting my command. The cool links play between her breasts, down her stomach and along her slit, with just the slightest twist of my wrist. As usual, she is an open book, every eager pelvic tilt and gasp of breath narrating the story of her growing arousal.
“Last night, you learned the overarching principle of serving your Master. Do you remember?”
“Yes, Master. Worship you.”
"A plus! Everything else is an extension of that concept. I want you to keep three words in mind today while I put you through your paces.”
Yes, princess, paces. As in breaking in a wild mare. I see the inner battle wage as the imagery plays in her head: the leash morphs into a long training lead and her collar becomes the bit. Despite the distraction, she clearly hears the words.
“Eager. Attentive. And dedicated. Repeat that back to me.”
“Eager, attentive, and dedicated.”
“Very good. Now don’t worry if you don’t quite understand what I mean by each one. That’s what the training is for.” Despite her obvious command of the English language, Isabella has yet to hear my unique definitions, the only ones that matter. “Let’s start with attentive. Quiz time. Which part of my body is in command of you?”
She blinks a couple of times before answering. “Your voice.”
“Really? What about when I do this?” I tip the other hand and she instantly sinks to her knees.
“Your hand?” she asks more than answers.
“Up!” She rises instantly, more confused than ever.
“Come on, princess, do I need to open my pants to prove my point?”
“Everything,” she answers promptly.
“Exactly. And you are responsible for answering to every single part of my body. Now, I have to say, you’ve been doing a remarkable job with verbal commands and hand signals.”
“Thank you, Master.” She blushes at the simple compliment.
“This is how I know you are capable of so much more. Watch my face as we go through this next exercise, and see if you can keep up.”
After a few repetitions with added hand signals for kneel up, sit back, and stand, I simply move my eyes and chin. She scrambles into position, moving up and down, back and forth. I speed things up to amuse myself, working her into a fine sheen of sweat.
“Okay, girl, you did well. This is all going to come in handy when I need to command you with other people around.”
I can trace her heavy gulp all the way down her throat. So you’re catching on, then? I chuckle at her apprehension, as her checklist choices come alive.
“There’s one more very important command you need to know before we move on. Watching carefully?”
She is on high alert.
I unbutton and unzip my jeans, reach into my boxers and pull out my hardening cock. Holding the base, I point the tip toward her. “Hurry, princess. He doesn’t wait very patiently.”
She drops to her knees and wraps her lips around me. I rake my fingers through her hair and praise her. “That’s a girl.” I let her suck me for a few minutes.
“Here’s the signal for stop,” I say, hooking my thumb into the side of her mouth. She drops her jaw abruptly, in an earnest effort to obey.
“Careful there when you unload the goods,” I warn with a chuckle. “Here, try again.”
She’s better the second time, using her tongue to gently ease me out.
“Excellent. Now, onto your hands and knees. Let’s work on the leash commands.”
Her face twists into that very special pre-crawling expression that tells me she is hornier than hell.
I know I have no business thinking about my own needs, but it’s really a struggle. Down on hands and open knees, the gleaming buckles of my wrist cuffs glinting against the contrasting black suede in the broad daylight of our elegant sitting room, his heavy boots at my side, and the chinks of the animal lead resting on my shoulder, I’m a sloppy mess down below.
“Now, instead of vocalizing, ‘Heel,’ I’m just going to give the leash a very subtle tug. Don’t worry, I would never put pressure on your neck. Here we go…feel that?”
“Okay, good.” He walks me to the obvious end of the line, a wall, and pulls back gently on the leash for stop. “Feel that?”
“All right then, let’s go for a walk.”
Under his silent command, I crawl several circuits all around both rooms, over wood floors, soft carpets, and briefly along the harsh marble of the bathroom. He leads me back to his chair and motions for me to stand in front of him.
“A-plus for attentiveness. I am very, very pleased, pet.”
Pet. Wow, the power in that word. The writer in me can’t help but stash away that goody. “Thank you, Master.”
“Let’s talk about eagerness next. How do you think a sub embodies that quality?”
Gah…he wants a biology primer of how every single part of my being is desperate for his touch? I’ve taken too long; his voice is less playful.
“I promise you’re not going to like my hints, princess,” he threatens.
“Hard nipples,” I offer suddenly.
“Yes,” he agrees, reaching one finger out to flick my very hard nipple. The sting tells me I really don’t want to draw his hints. “What else?”
“So freshly showered then? Just out of the pool?” he teases.
He’s going to make me say the word. “No, not that kind of wet.” My eyes dart hither and yon, anywhere but meeting his.
“Need a hint then, princess?”
“No, Master. Wet pussy,” I whisper.
“Sorry?” he retorts, cupping his ear like an old man.
Louder, “Wet. Pussy.”
“And is that pussy wet for me right now?” He doesn’t take his eyes off said body part while he speaks.
“How are you going to prove that?”
“I could brush against your hand, Master.”
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you, my needy little subbie? Nope, I’m not going to touch you. Got another idea?”
Oh crap. I know what he wants. “I could…moisten the leash for you, Master.”
Oh crap. I know what he wants. “I could…moisten the leash for you, Master.”
“Mmm, I like that idea. You are a creative one. Here. This piece right here.” I point to a section of chain resting near her abdomen. She takes hold of it and pushes it into her slit. Her eyelids droop momentarily as the cold metal makes contact with her warm opening, and she offers it to me for inspection. I already know she’s soaked before I even touch it.
“Oh, you are an eager girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master.” Her lashes flutter away from me as she struggles with her embarrassment.
“No need to belabor the point. Pointy nipples, wet pussy, and a general air of enthusiasm show your Master your desire. But now, how does the good little submissive let her Master know she’s ready for the taking?”
She quickly snaps to her submissive pose, feet spread apart, hands behind her back. I give her a warm nod of approval.
“Excellent start. You remembered to open”—I brush my fingers up the inside of her thigh—“and remove the obstacles from my path”—my hands run up her belly and manhandle those ripe nipples—“but what about these lips?” She gasps as my fingertips breach her mouth. “Open, princess…you always want to be open for your Master.”
Her jaw hinges open, and I reward her with two fingers to suck on.
“I’m sure you can imagine the penalty for failing this requirement.”
She’s smart enough to picture herself bound uncomfortably open and at my mercy. The shaky breath she draws before answering confirms it. “Yes…Master.”
“Easy enough right now, but in a prolonged scene, it might become a challenge. Not to worry,” I half-promise, half-taunt, “I will make sure you don’t forget.”
I don’t go on until she responds, “Thank you, Master.”
“Excellent. Now, the third?”
“Good girl,” I praise. “Now this is where you give it your all, show me 110%. For example, is that the best you can do with that pose?”
She was so focused on eager and open, she’s sunk into a slouch. Upon my reminder, she straightens her back.
“Ahhh, see? That’s what I need from you all the time. We both agree that I deserve the best, am I right?”
The next hour consists of exhausting drills combining increasingly subtle signals with Master’s demands for higher steps, quicker response time, more grace. And because there is nothing the slightest bit sexually arousing about any of this, I am subjected to “random moisture tests,” humiliating check-ins with the leash to prove to my Master that I am indeed eager for him. As if.
I’m more exhausted than focused at the end of another lengthy leash-crawling session, more relieved when he finally tugs on the leash for me to stop than curious about where he’s led me. He lays the cold metal links down the middle of my back and it trails between my legs like a giant, undignified, leather tail.
The next thing I hear is a vigorous stream of urine hitting the toilet bowl, followed by a flush and an extended hand-washing session, the combined effect bubbling a clear need to the surface.
“Shoot, now where are those towels? Oh…never mind,” he says, rubbing his wet hands along my back. My instinct is to draw my knees together, but of course, that is not allowed. Might as well get this over with. It’s not going to go away now that he’s raised it, the demon.
“Master, may I use the toilet?”
He crouches in front of me. I know I’m bright red, and the last thing I want to do is look into his face, but he holds my chin up. “On a scale from one to ten, how badly do you need to pee?”
“Four,” I tell him, cursing that extra cup of coffee.
“Let me know when you get to eight. Heel!”
Eight? He picks up the end of the leash and draws me over to the foot of the bed, where the previously discarded implements of torture await.
He signals me to stand and turns me so I’m facing the bed. “Arms up and spread out. Make a big ‘X’ for me,” he directs. The bed creaks as he hops up, boots and all, taking hold of my wrist and drawing one length of rope through the ring on my cuff. I watch with fascination as he tethers both wrists efficiently to the bedposts. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is secure.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he says largely to himself, then takes a nipple between his teeth.
“Nnnggggh,” I groan.
He jumps off the bed and around to my back.
“How are we doing on the moisture now?”
“Very moist, Master.”
“Really? Because I think I should check. Just in case.”
He pulls the chain through my legs. Only he doesn’t just check, he rubs and twists, making me writhe and moan. It’s been a really long morning.
“Yep, you’re wet all right.”
Why do I love it so much when he teases me this way? It’s so damn unfair.
“Wider, pet,” he says, tugging my foot out to the side before tying it off. And now I feel the stretch from above as well, having absolutely zero doubt that he knew exactly how high to tie me to achieve just this result. Problem is, there’s another side to stretch, and another few inches of sinking. When he rounds to my front again after securing the second foot, I’m sure he sees the tension in my expression.
“You’re right where I want you,” he says with a voice more gentle than I’ve heard since this training began. I take comfort in his assurance, though I have no recourse when he slides his tongue along my nipple again. Retreat is an uncomfortable option.
“Baby, you are off the charts on eager this afternoon! I am really feeling the devotion here,” he says, moving away from me. “Hang on. I need to order some room service.”
He’s leaving me like this to go order food? Unbelievable, this guy! He goes in the other room, and I can hear his tone but not the details. He’s on the phone a while, and there’s laughter and a lot of chit-chat. Hello? Tied up naked woman in the next room…anyone?
“Hmmm, thirty minutes they told me. Let’s see now, what can we do in thirty minutes?”
He flops down onto the bed, fingering his instruments. “Well, this is really quite the dilemma. I can’t decide which would be the most fun. Tell you what, I’ll let you choose.”
He picks up the feather and waves it across my abdomen, raising my toilet rating to a five. “Will it be the feather?”
Next he grabs the paddle. “I know you’ve been longing for a scene with the paddle. This could work. I’d have to lower your hands just a bit for that one.”
My tightening shoulders instantly vote for the paddle.
“Or did you want a little quality time with your new best friend, the crop?” He swishes it through the air and smacks it against the bedpost with a resounding whoosh.
He knee-walks to my end of the bed, holding up the three tools like a magician. Pick a torture device, any device. “What’s your pleasure, princess?”
I’m so curious and I’m so horny. We both know how I’m choosing and yet his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when I say, “Paddle, Master.”
“Brave choice,” I praise her for accepting the offer she really couldn’t refuse.
I hop to my feet and start to hitch the ropes a tad lower when it strikes me that her mouth is perfectly aligned with my cock…and we’ve got plenty of time…but no. This will be all the sweeter after she’s paddled and rosy. I continue doing what I set out to do, and just as I’m finishing up, and she’s eased down a bit, her expression catches me totally off guard.
Damn, her desperate eyes are locked in on my zipper, as if the Promised Land awaits her on the other side. Fuck waiting. There’s only so much a dom with a trussed up, eager-as-hell sub can take. I open my button and zipper faster than I can rethink it, and I fish out my cock and aim for her lips. Putting her recently mastered command into action, she closes around me without hesitation, gripping and regripping with her lips and warm, moist tongue. I pull my boxers down and gather her hair into my fist. My stupid shirt is in the way, and I frantically claw at the buttons with my free hand until I’ve got it open down the front and pushed to the sides.
“Give it to me good, sweetheart. I want to have plenty of time to use my paddle on you.”
That does it. She groans long and low and applies herself with such fervor that I nearly fall backwards. As I stagger and right myself, I happen to look over her shoulder, and that’s when I see what I somehow failed to notice before. A huge mirror on the wall behind her.
I can hardly reconcile the wild look of abandon on the man’s face with my own, and it only becomes more intense now that I’ve begun watching our own personal porno film.
“Fuck, Isabella!” I call out, thrusting myself into the girl in the mirror, twisting her hair, causing her to groan around me, little else she can do all tied up and helpless. The vision of her ass pumping toward the mirror atop widely spread thighs is the last image I have before throwing my head back to the ceiling and exploding in her hungry mouth.
It’s not until I catch my reflected image that I realize I’m still gripping her head against my body. I ease up and pull her off me gently before stepping back on shaky legs to refasten my pants. Her head is dropped and her hair has fallen in a curtain around her face. Her back rises and falls with the effort of bringing her breathing back to normal. I have to get to that ass without further delay.
I grab the paddle in one hand and maneuver myself behind her just as quickly as my boots can get me there. Facing the mirror, I anchor myself against one of her hips, planting my left foot against the inside of hers, drawing her leg between mine. I wish fleetingly that I hadn’t pulled my pants up, but for now, the gruff friction of denim will be my cross to bear.
Shit, shit, shit!
Me and my big mouth. And my stupid hungry pussy. Or is it my ass this time? Okay, guys, whose fault is it that I’m tied to this bed and waiting anxiously to be paddled?
It does not help one bit that the only thought I have to distract me from my upcoming introduction to Master’s newest toy is how badly I need to pee. I know I could tell him I’m at eight right now, but truth be told, I’m not. I’m somewhere around six and a half. And I can’t imagine he’ll be too pleased to have to undo all this handiwork for a mere six and a half.
His hands play down my back, his palms soothing and gentle after that rough mouth fucking. His body is strong and sturdy at my side, providing a comforting presence, though he’s also the one brandishing the paddle. It makes my head spin to think about all the contradictions.
It’s not a punishment, I remind myself. I close my eyes and just feel.
His motions become more insistent, rubbing, pinching, testing and warming my flesh.
“You’re nice and pink for me now, girl. We can begin.”
Oh gawd, the image of my traitorous rosy ass pinking up for him, practically begging for it, brings on a wave of heat and arousal. And the sweet anticipation of that crisp leather…unghh.
And then, he has to go and say, “Isabella, are you aware that there’s a giant mirror right behind you?”
What? “No, Master, I was not.”
“Well, there is. And you look amazing in it. I don’t know where to look first. It’s most confusing.”
Playful Master is back. Is he waiting for an apology or something?
“I’m only sorry that it’s too high for you to enjoy the view as well, or else I’d have you dip your head between your legs and watch me.”
Yes, that is a shame. Because this whole situation isn’t kinky enough. Why can’t he just get on with it already?
“I haven’t checked you lately. What do you suspect is happening in that pussy of yours?”
“Wet. Master. Definitely wet.”
“Hmmm, I think I’ll just have to see for myself,” he says, barely finishing his sentence before plunging two fingers inside me from the front.
“Ahhh,” I swoon.
My head is reeling from the unexpected slap of the paddle while his fingers still play inside me. He swats me again, and I’m grateful for his support and the tight bindings. The sting rises but fades quickly. He withdraws his fingers, but the paddling continues. He supports me firmly against his side with his hand on my opposite hip. I am going nowhere. After two more smacks, he rubs the paddle in circles against my skin, giving me a chance to slow down my breathing.
“That’s it, princess. Good…good.”
He takes me by surprise with the next slap, and I yelp. He runs his free hand over my round hot cheeks in a soothing motion. I’m lulled again into a false sense of security when suddenly, the next stinging smack strikes.
His deep voice startles me. “Does that feel good, Isabella?”
As much as I’d rather not admit it, hell yeah it feels good. “Yes, Master,” I admit.
“Feel free to come when you’re ready.”
I feel like there’s going to be a catch. But as his fingers find their way inside me again, I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it is. The paddling is insistent, never exactly in the same place, and there’s no predictable rhythm. I focus on those fingers inside me…and the heel of his hand rubbing insistently against my clit.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Hump my fingers, you horny girl.”
And I do. Shamelessly.
“You know how beautiful you are when you’re so desperate? How much it thrills me that you love your Master’s paddle?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“You do love my paddle, don’t you, princess?”
“That’s what I thought. That’s why I’m not gonna help you with this hand,” he informs me, cruelly withdrawing his other hand. “Come on, push that ass out, reach for the paddle. You know you love it.”
I answer with a low animal grunt.
“Such a desperate” thwack! “…eager” thwack! “…needy” thwack! “PADDLE SLUT!”
And away I go, my muscles twitching and clamping uselessly around air, seeking out contact with anything, like a fish thrust onto dry land. But my pussy finds nothing. Even the paddle has disappeared from the scene of my undoing.
I whimper as the strange orgasm plays itself out, imagining my Master watching my reflection and my flesh in stereo behind me.
His hands work quickly untying my ankles and wrists. I’m sure I look like a wild tangled mess but Master doesn’t seem to mind what he sees. His gaze is adoring and proud.
There’s a knock on the door and a faint, “Room Service.”
“Where’s your bathroom index?”
“Seven point nine,” I tell him, aware that if I say eight, I’m in big trouble for not telling him sooner. He smirks and leads me over to the doorway between the two rooms, pressing my back to the wall next to the open French doors.
“Wait for me right here, and then we’ll address your need.”
No, it isn’t sadistic of me to run my finger through her slit and remind her to keep her legs spread as I pass through the open doorway to get our food. It’s a training technique to remind her about eagerness, despite other more pressing physical needs. Master comes first.
And it’s not mean that I draw the unsuspecting room service waiter to the very wall where my beautiful naked girl is pressed, just on the other side.
Nor that I feign needing a trip to the bedroom to grab my wallet, even though it’s in my back pocket the whole time, not to mention that I could’ve added the tip onto the bill. I simply cannot resist laying my eyes on her as it all plays out, watching her blush at my sly wink, as I pass back through, leaving her exposed and wondering.
“Sorry about that detour,” I say to the waiter, loud enough for Isabella to easily overhear, pulling out a ten and pressing it into his hands. “You know how it is…?” I take one shirt tail into my hand and hold it helplessly.
Leaning in toward the unsuspecting waiter, I stage whisper, “My girlfriend is insatiable.” I roll my eyes toward the bedroom. “She barely lets me up for a breath, let alone lunch!”
The guy laughs good-naturedly, accepting my tip. “Good for you, man. Well, you two enjoy now!”
“We will, we will,” I say to his retreating back. “And Happy New Year to you.”
“You too, sir.”
I glance at Isabella just enough to locate the leather loop at the end of the leash and lead her to the toilet. She follows obediently, if not downright eagerly. She doesn’t seem the least bit surprised—nor is she one bit happy —when I plant myself right in front of her inside the tiny room.
“You may go.”
I hold the leash out while she fights with her inhibitions.
“What are you going to do, princess? This offer expires in five seconds, come hell or…yellow water!”
I know I don’t really have a choice, though I feel very much like the doggie taken out to do her business. I succumb to my physical need and squat onto the seat, instantly jumping from the sting of the unforgiving porcelain against my tender bottom.
His countdown doesn’t help. “…Three…two…”
I sink back again, holding my weight in my hands this time, the way my mother taught me as a little girl, to avoid all the nasty germs that live in public toilets. I close my eyes as sweet relief washes over me.
“Look at me,” he commands, interrupting my snatched private moment.
Okay, I get it. No private moments while wearing the collar.
“You can wipe, but keep it brief. I don’t want to see any wandering fingers.”
Sheesh! We finally complete the rigmarole of potty training and sanitation and he leads me out to the waiting food and drops my leash. He signals me to stay while he takes his seat in the throne once again. “I’m ready for lunch now.”