You might have read the original of my updated story/prologue to "Seraglio of the Gods" |
** Image ID #1306034 Unavailable ** * * * Monday morning: I can’t stop remembering our too short time together last night. My mind keeps going back to the sight of you stretched out naked on the bed when I came out of the bathroom. Your hard body invited me to enjoy myself, and I have to admit I did. Your firm insistence I stay fully clothed surprised me, but it was exciting to be that way on top of your body. When I knelt over your gently moving hips and felt your hands pushing up my skirt ever so slowly, the quick dampness between my legs shocked me. I never felt such excitement with any man just from knowing what would follow. Why did you stop us at that point, with both of us not satisfied, and order me to return tonight? Did seeing my frustration make you happy? When I first met you in that darkened theater, I never knew making love with a stranger could be so exciting, wanting more, needing more. Until tonight then! * * * Tuesday morning: I’m again writing a note to you, which I’ll never mail since I don’t know who you are or where you live. Our time together last night left me unsure of how this all will end. Walking into the barely lit motel room, all I saw was your large shadow standing by the bed. When you came closer, I saw you remained fully dressed and wondered what would happen next. You slowly kicked off your shoes and continued walking barefoot toward me. You were so silent, I felt unsure of myself for the first time since we met. Without saying a word, you motioned me to lie down on the bed and continued to stand over me. What happened after that remains burned into my brain, every word, every touch. “Put your arms up over your head.” These rough words were the first ones you spoke, and I obeyed automatically, without thinking. Stunned, I watched you pull down two ends of a red rope threaded through the vertical metal rungs of the headboard. You secured me to the two ends by tying the slender rope around my wrists, pulling the rope so tightly I still have raw marks there today. The pain brought me out of my daze, and I struggled to get free. This wasn’t what I thought would happen between us, and I wanted to leave. However, you just knelt on the bed beside my terrified body. I know I shrank away when you placed a hand over my mouth, but you have to forgive me for that. I had no idea what you had planned. While you kept me from crying out, any woman would easily misunderstand that sight of the knife suddenly in your other hand. Soon you removed your hand from my mouth. You unbuttoned my blouse and used that knife to cut my bra straps in half. “Don’t you trust me?” That husky whisper so close to my ear, followed by your tongue circling inside it, was the start of your torment. After you methodically sliced off my clothes and threw the tattered pieces on the carpet, I laid there shivering in the cold of the air-conditioned room. The coldness didn’t last long as you slowly ran your hands over my body, starting at my feet. I remember begging you to hurry, but you ignored me. Did you tell me your name at this point, and I didn’t hear you? All I can remember about those first few moments was the roughness of your hands stroking my legs. What work causes hands to be that way? I wasn’t thinking about anything while your hand caressed the tender flesh of my upper thighs. Did I scream when you shoved two of your probing fingers into that sensitive part of my body? I do remember pulling at the ropes, trying to free myself and begging you for release. Watching my sexual excitement grow, you simply smiled and rubbed harder. Just as I was ready to climax, you stopped. When you stood to untie me and walked away from the bed, I realized that had been your plan all along. Feeling shame for needing what you refused to give me, I put on the remnants of my clothes. You just stood by the window, again silently watching me. Your cruelty left me once again wanting more and wishing I’d never met you. * * * Wednesday morning: When I arrived last night at the motel, you weren’t there. All day at work, I’d tried to talk myself out of coming back to be with you. During the day, I was able to resist, but the darkness of night proved too much temptation. I had to see you again and hoped to see your naked body, something you held back from me last night. I waited for half an hour, sitting primly on a chair by the window with the bright overhead light turned on. When I saw the familiar black SUV pull up in front, my mouth went dry as I wondered what you would be like that evening. I quickly closed the blinds and saw the door open. Because you had always kept the room dimly lit before, this was the first time I’d seen you in full light. I knew you could read my mind as my eyes went straight to the bulge in your crotch. The denim jeans you wore seemed painted on, and I could feel my face starting to flush. I waited for you to say something, anything to relieve my almost palpable tension. “Don’t move.” This harsh order kept me from getting to my feet. To be honest, there was no way I could move, not wanting to know what you would do if I did. Without unbuttoning your shirt, a lovely shade of blue, by the way, you pulled it off over your head. This revealed your chest, tanned from most likely working outdoors. Again, the question of what work you did crossed my mind, and then disappeared when I saw your hands move to your waist. “I can stop now, if you want.” I remember frantically shaking my head at these taunting words. “No? What will you do for me then?” I did manage to get out, “Whatever you want. Just tell me.” When I started to move, wanting to get near and touch you, it frustrated me to see you turn your back on me. “Please,” you must have heard me say, “I’ll do anything,” but you continued to ignore me. Why? I know I couldn’t stop myself when I came up behind you and tentatively touched your back and then moved lower. Your heat came through the denim jeans, and all I wanted to do was explore you with my hands. When you didn’t stop me, I did exactly that and felt the firmness of your tight ass. I wanted more, though, and you still didn’t move or stop me. What did you want of me? When I heard the sound of a zipper opening, I forced myself to stand back away from you. “Do you like touching me?” Your question, asked in a lazy drawl, surprised me. Your next questions surprised me even more, when you turned around to ask, “What punishment for doing that should I give you? What should I do to you? You touched my ass without first asking permission.” That smile I was starting to dread appeared, and you moved to tangle your fingers in my long hair. “From now on, you must ask permission or face the consequences of my displeasure.” My confusion over what you said and did must have shown. You repeated, now in a less friendly voice, the smile only a memory, “What do you think I should do to you?” When I still didn’t answer, you pulled me over to the bed, still holding on to my hair. Finally getting my wits back, I started begging you to tell me what you wanted, that I’d let you do whatever you wanted, just tell me. You seemed to enjoy my pitiful groveling, but I didn’t care. For a third time, I heard you ask, “What will you let me do to you?” This time, you didn’t wait for me to speak but simply removed your fingers from my hair and pushed me backwards onto the bed. Not wanting you to wreck more of my clothes, I decided to remove them before you pulled out that knife. You scowled at me when you saw what I was doing. “Did I give you permission to undress?” I stopped, again confused about what you wanted. In shock, I watched you zip up your jeans and pull your shirt back on. Going to the motel room’s door and opening it, you gave me one last order. “Tomorrow night, I want you to give me a written list of what I can do to you if I allow you to touch me.” Before you left, closing the door behind you, I heard you say, “You do want to touch me, don’t you?” I stayed sitting on the bed, once again frustrated and unsatisfied. * * * Thursday afternoon: Last night, I arrived earlier than usual at the motel, list in hand. I’d tried to come up with ideas that would satisfy my sexual craving and seem like punishment to you. I knew you’d find my few entries woefully inadequate, but I did my best. You walked into the room exactly at our usual meeting time and held out your hand for my list. In your other hand, you carried a small black suitcase, which you placed on the table by the window. When you shook your head after reading my list, I knew I’d failed and closed my eyes to wait for what you’d do. “Good,” I heard you say, “keep your eyes closed until I say to open them. You’ve got to learn to do exactly what I demand of you.” You again wrapped my long hair around your fist and dragged me blindly to the bed. Sitting here now, I wonder what you’ll do tonight when you find I had my hair cut this morning, real short. You had such a stern uncompromising voice when you ordered me to sit on the edge of the bed with my eyes closed as tightly as I could manage. Obeying you without question, I heard you leave me and walk across the room to the table. The sound of the suitcase snapping open was loud, but the thought of opening my eyes didn’t cross my mind, even for a second. My training by you already had started, and I hope you’ll find I’m a quick learner. Your next whispered words startled me, for I hadn’t heard you return to stand beside me. While my eyes stayed closed, you had removed your shoes so I lost track of where you were walking. “You may open your eyes now and put this on. I’ll be the only one to take it off, do you understand? I will severely punish you, if you try to remove or even reach up to touch it.” With that warning, you handed me a velvet black mask. There were no holes to see through, and the mask made me blind for the rest of the evening. It was the strangest feeling, this loss of control over my own body, but I couldn’t stop obeying you, didn’t want you to stop your demands. Last night, I wanted you so much I willingly put myself into your hands, giving myself up to you. When you touched my throat with those rough hands, I started to lie down, ready for your pleasure, whatever it would be. Too late, I realized you hadn’t told me to lie down and tried to sit at the edge of the bed again. Through the tightening of your hands around my neck, I felt rather than saw your anger. Eager to beg for your forgiveness, instead I found myself picked up in your arms and tossed, none too gently, onto the middle of the bed. The bed next to me sank down from your weight. I could feel your hot breath on my face while you told me what you might do with my naked body. Your threat of what would happen if I misbehaved had me lying there, wanting only to please you. As you slowly stripped off my clothes, you continued to ask if I were ready to do whatever you wanted, no matter what it was. You stopped to run your thumb around one of my exposed breasts when you asked this, and all I could do was lie there, feeling totally vulnerable. The musky male odor coming through your shirt from your body started to drive me wild. More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, I wanted to touch you, reach under that shirt and feel the warmth of your skin. Knowing you might punish me and not caring, I reached up and searched for a way to get to your body. You surprised me when you guided my hand to the waist of your slacks instead and helped me pull down the zipper. Only for a few seconds did you allow my fingertips to touch what my naked body desired, and then you firmly pushed my hand away. When you said, in a low voice, “You don’t deserve to hold it yet, you still need more training,” the people in the next motel room probably heard my frustrated scream. I felt my arms again tied above my head and wondered what the next step in my training would be. The sound of the motel room’s door opening came next followed by the sound of your footsteps fading off into the distance. With the cool night air washing over my naked body, I knew the door was still open. You were gone, leaving me alone, tied painfully to the bed’s headboard, and blinded by the mask. I lay there, terrified that someone would see me through the open door. As time passed, I became even more afraid no one would find me. When I heard footsteps coming through the open door, I called out for help, not caring who it was by now. The person slammed the door shut and came closer to the bed. After hearing the sound of a container opening, I gasped from the shock of feeling of something cold and wet running over my stomach and down between my legs. Even as I cried out in fear, your familiar voice was soothing enough for me to stop struggling. Your mouth went to my stomach, and greedily licked up whatever you’d poured there. I shivered, feeling the pressure of your hands when you spread my legs apart to reach what was dripping between them. Your tongue licked its way down, teasing out every drop from hair and skin. Raising my hips off the bed to allow you better access, I instantly regretted the movement. You angrily lifted your head even as I begged you to forgive me. Without warning, you moved away from my legs up to my face, and your mouth pressed harshly against mine. On your lips I tasted the sweetness of honey mixed with my body’s sexual secretions. After saying, “I didn’t give you permission to do that,” you returned to brutalize my mouth with another kiss. When you removed my mask and untied my wrists, I understood my punishment was having to go home unsatisfied and frustrated. I will try to do better tonight, I promise. I hope you’ll give me one more chance. * * * Late Friday morning: When I walked into the motel room last night, I saw the stern look on your face. Heavier than usual traffic made me late, but only by five minutes. Surely you would have forgiven me my tardiness, but then you noticed my hair. The long blonde hair that once swirled around my shoulders was gone, leaving only what my hairdresser called a shaggy cut. You stood there by the table, silent and unmoving. What I remember most were your eyes glaring at me, cold, black, and filled with anger. It had been a mistake, I knew at that moment, to cut my hair. You hadn’t given me permission, and tonight my punishment would be severe for thinking my body still belonged to me. I would have preferred to hear angry words from you, but instead you said, so softly I had to strain to hear, “You still haven’t learned, have you?” You seemed not to expect an answer, so I closed the door and moved into the room toward you. When you turned your back on me, I stopped about 10 feet from you and waited for what you would do next. It was a relief not to see your eyes, but that didn’t last long. I realized almost immediately you had started my punishment. Still facing away from me, I could hear you open that black suitcase I’d noticed on the table when I first arrived. Over your shoulder, you ordered me to stay standing, no matter how much I wanted to move. I hurried to obey your next command. “Put your arms straight out and don’t let them fall.” I listened to the various noises made when you removed items from the case and placed them on the table. Long minutes passed, and still you forced me to stand there. My arms began to tremble with fatigue from this unaccustomed position, but still you didn’t stop what you were doing. The pain in my outstretched arms became unbearable. I thought you had eyes in the back of your head when you swung around as my arms fell to my sides. Only then did I notice you hadn’t closed the window blinds, and the darkness outside turned the window into a mirror. You were watching my reflection all the time, waiting for that moment. When I started to cry, begging you for another chance, at first I thought you were going to overlook my failure to obey. Holding my gaze, never looking away, you slowly removed your shirt. Your eyes went down to my mouth, and I remembered the taste and feel of your kiss the night before. When you reached out and ran a finger over my upper lip, I opened my mouth. Your finger accepted this invitation, and I started caressing your moving finger with my tongue. While I was doing this, you continued watching me, a look in your eyes I didn’t understand. I stood in front of you with only the feel of your finger teasing me by rubbing inside my mouth. I greedily sucked your finger, at the same time wanting something longer, harder, and hotter to run my tongue around. When you pulled your finger out, I know you heard my cry for you not to stop. You did stop, though, and ordered me to remain motionless in the middle of the room. After kicking off your shoes, you left me facing the window and walked around behind me. The sound of your jeans falling to the carpet startled me, and again you ordered me not to move. “You’re doing just fine, so don’t disappoint me again.” This threat made me hope this evening wouldn’t end like the previous nights had, with me alone and unsatisfied. Your arms went around my waist and dragged me back, holding me tightly against your long, naked body. I felt the heavy weight in your crotch even through the material of my dress. Because last night I’d decided not to wear my usual bra or panties, only a thin layer of cotton separated us. The slow swaying rhythm of your hips suddenly stopped, making me wonder what I’d done wrong. When you pulled away from me, I heard you say in disgust, “This won’t do, not at all.” I felt you reach down and run your hands up under my dress. I tried to remain silent and motionless as you started, without success, to pull the material over my head. Your anger intensified at discovering you’d failed to undo the front buttons. Pushing the offending dress back down to where it originally was, you dragged me to the bed and ordered me to stand there and face straight ahead. While I waited to see if you would punish or reward me, I couldn’t resist looking at your naked body. A dark tan covered your entire body, even the area usually hidden by swimming trunks. When I raised my eyes to your face, I froze. The look you gave me promised punishment. “You don’t listen, do you? Did I give you permission to look at me?” I didn’t dare speak when you said this, only shook my head. When you started undoing the buttons on my dress, I could feel my legs starting to tremble in anticipation of what was coming. I didn’t care what you did as long as it gave you pleasure and allowed me to stay here with you. You finished with the buttons and started to push the dress to the floor instead of bringing it over my head. I saw your smile when you discovered I wasn’t wearing a bra. When I was naked to my waist, you paused to let the dress fall around my hips. I could feel my skin flushing as you inspected my upper body, first with your eyes, and then with your hands. Your left hand went around my waist to pull me closer while the fingers on your other hand teased the nipples on my breasts until they became hard. Seeing my involuntary arousal, you removed your hand and pushed my dress all the way to the floor. After you ordered me to climb on the bed and forced me down on my stomach, I laid there for a few minutes wondering why you wanted me in that position. When I heard your laugh, I dared a quick glance in your direction. You had pulled up a chair to sit beside the bed. I watched as you leaned back and opened your legs wide. The sight of a naked man fully aroused was new to me. The few men I’d had sex with in the past usually cared only for satisfying their own itch, often without taking the time to undress. I found your penis fascinating to look at, but I wanted to touch and even taste it. The ache in the pit of my stomach told me there had to be more to sex than I’d experienced in the past. You let me look for a few minutes before you stood and carried the chair back to the table where it belonged. Returning to kneel beside me on the bed, you ordered me to get up on my knees but keep my head and arms down flat on the bed. Even though I felt nervous with the loss of control this position put me in, I quickly obeyed. I shuddered when I felt you reach underneath me to force my ass higher into the air. You surprised me with your next question. You said it like you were simply asking if I preferred tea or coffee. What answer did you want from me when you asked whether I wanted you to stop or continue? While I tried figure out why you’d given me a choice, you took that choice away. You immediately bent over and firmly began pushing my bent legs apart. The strain of staying in that awkward position caused my body to sink. Once again you reached under me to improve the position of my body. I could hear the anger in your voice with your next order, “Stay like this or I’ll send you home right now.” Since my head was facing the window, I was able to watch your reflection in the dark glass. When you moved to kneel between my legs, I saw my ass again only inches from you. Suddenly, you glanced over at the window and saw I was watching. When you ordered me to turn my head in the other direction, I hesitated and instantly felt your fingers dig painfully into my ass, one hand on each cheek. “I will stop right now if you don’t behave.” You followed this whispered threat by leaning down to run your wet tongue over the bruises you had just caused on my cheeks. “Is that what you want?” With one last swirl of your tongue, you took the moan forced out of me as my answer. After you lifted your head, you eased forward even more until I felt the coarse hair above your crotch. I took an unsteady breath when your hands, which had returned to caress my ass, slowly moved to separate the cheeks. Did you feel me trembling, since I’d never had a man’s hand touching that part of my body before? You must have noticed the tension in my body when you inserted the tip of your penis into my rectum. I tried not to show my pain when you pushed in deeper, wanting to only please you. Needing to see and not just feel you, I slowly turned my head to once again face the window. I waited for you to object, but this time you just laughed and let me watch. Your naked body, by now covered in sweat, ruthlessly rocked me back and forth as you increased your penetration into me. I saw you, and felt you, and heard myself crying out, ordering you to go faster, deeper. As soon as those words left my mouth, I knew what would happen. You pushed yourself off my body, and I felt your penis slide out of me. Was that me reflected in the window begging you to continue, to not leave me? After you forced me to lie flat on my stomach, you continued to kneel beside me. I lay there, knowing I’d crossed the line by giving you an order. “You do know I can’t allow what you did.” I watched you get up from the bed and walk to where you had put your clothes. “I want you to think about tonight when you’re home alone in bed.” After you finished dressing, you turned to face me. I was sitting up on the bed, and you motioned for me to come to join you. I reached down for my dress that had ended on the carpet, but stopped when I saw you shaking your head. Naked, I walked to stand in front of you. My ass felt sore, and I knew my words had stopped you before you obtained your sexual release. Tonight, both of us would leave unsatisfied and sexually frustrated. Somehow, knowing this didn’t make me feel better. In fact, I felt overwhelming guilt for not providing the total obedience you demanded of me. While I stood there, wondering what I could do to deflect your anger, you walked to the door. As you opened it, I heard you say, “Tomorrow night will be your last chance. I expect you to spend the day thinking of how you can please me.” Walking outside, you gave me one last abrupt order. “When you arrive, you will not be wearing any clothes. I find them annoying.” As I sit here writing this note on a bright sunny morning, last night seemed like a dream. However, the slight pain when I move reminds me it hadn’t been a dream. * * * Saturday morning: Where do I start the final note about you, my sweet and cruel satyr? When you swaggered out of the motel earlier this morning, I wanted to chase after you and beg you to stay a while longer. The pain of knowing I’ll never see you again is still with me hours later. You gave me one last order, and I stood naked in the doorway watching you leave forever. During those last hours together, you finally had trained me to instantly obey you without question or hesitation. To keep the memory of last night forever, let me start this note at the beginning. At the usual time for our meeting, I pulled my car in the parking space a short distance from our motel room. Your SUV was already there, and the rest of the parking lot was fuller than usual. The heavy rain made going out unappealing, and most people staying at the motel were in for the night. As I stepped out of the car, I saw you standing at the open doorway of the room. I started walking quickly to reach you and to get inside out of the rain. Halfway there, I saw the scowl on your face and remembered your last order the night before. I returned to my unlocked car and hastily stripped off my clothes, including my sandals. After tossing them into the front seat of the car, I started back toward you. When I had almost reached you, I saw you raise your hand for me to stop where I was. Standing there shivering in the rain, I automatically turned around to check for anyone walking behind me. A painful slap on my exposed ass warned me you had come up behind me. I swung around, almost losing my balance when my bare feet slipped on the wet pavement. Your long legs forced me to run to keep up when you walked back to the open doorway. Once we were inside, you slammed the door shut. I stood there, dripping water on the carpet, waiting for you to say something. I could hear the threat in your voice when you finally spoke. “You should have remembered I told you not to wear anything. Am I going to have to end tonight’s training session even before it begins?” I started to apologize but stopped when you took a step toward me, saying in a soft voice, “Did I give you permission to speak?” When you saw me shaking my head and almost in tears, you smiled. I hated that smile and knew you would make me pay for my mistakes in the following hours. While I waited for your next order, not daring to move, I silently stared into your eyes. I knew from looking into them all week they were dark blue, almost black. Tonight, though, they seemed blacker than usual, and I realized the pupils appeared fully dilated. Was this because of drugs, disease, or simply excitement? You continued to stand there, and that smile on your face started to frighten me. Finally, you moved closer, almost close enough for me to touch you. “I’m wet!” This simple, obvious statement confused me, since I could see you were wet. Your dark hair glistened with rain that caused the short curls to make you look even more like a Greek satyr. You took one of my hands and placed it on the first button of your damp shirt. “I don’t like to wear clothes, especially wet ones.” You used my fingers to maneuver the button from the hole. “I want you to remove my clothes, but I forbid you to touch my body. Do you think you can manage that?” I silently nodded and moved my hand down to the next shirt button. Your body was so near I became aware of your scent, your familiar musky male odor. No man I’d ever been with before aroused me like this just from the natural smell of his body. When I’d undone all the buttons, with some difficulty I pulled the shirt from your slack’s waistband. When doing this, my hand accidentally brushed against your stomach. I heard you give an angry hiss and knew I had to be more careful to avoid punishment. After removing your shirt and tossing it to the carpet, I next moved to your slacks. You’d already kicked off your soaked shoes and were standing in front of me barefoot and waiting. When I hesitated, you took pity on me and pulled the zipper down yourself. However, that was as far as you would help me. “Why have you stopped? Keep going, but don’t touch me again.” Your voice was soft, but there was a note of menace in it. I hooked a finger into each side of the slack’s opening to pull them apart to reveal you weren’t wearing underwear. With a small sigh of relief, I had only to bring your slacks down around your ankles. I was sure I could do that and became a bit careless. I knelt to pull your slacks down, and they were almost past your knees when I lost my balance. Without thinking, I grabbed your legs to keep from falling and immediately felt sick to my stomach at this horrible mistake. The expression on your face as you yanked me to my feet showed me I deserved punishment for my inability to follow one of your simple commands. You silently finished the job of removing your slacks while I stood there shivering in anticipation of what you’d do next. I didn’t have long to wait. I watched you walk to the table and waited for what you’d do. That black suitcase once more provided the torture for me and pleasure for you. When you returned, in your hand was a pair of pink panties trimmed in white lace. You dangled this extremely feminine garment so it brushed against your body. As you handed them to me, I understood you wanted me to put them on. Balancing precariously in front of you, I slipped the panties on and looked to you for approval. Still not speaking, you motioned me to follow you back to the bed where you sat down on the edge. I was about to climb up onto the bed, but you stopped me and forced me to stand between your outstretched legs. Your arms went around me, and I felt your hands on my back, pulling me even closer. Suddenly, your left hand reached down to push the edge of the panties aside, and that hand began to massage the exposed cheek. You started out gently and slowly increased the pressure, kneading my exposed flesh. When you pushed the panties over even more, you now had access to both of my cheeks, attacking first one side of my ass and then the other side. At the same time, you brought my body up next to yours so the crotch of the panties was level with your penis. It was as if you had chosen this motel, this particular bed for my seduction. Your fingers dug in deeper and deeper, and I could see you daring me to cry out from the pain. Every time you increase the pressure, you forced me forward causing the tip of your penis to brush against the front of the panties. I didn’t understand why you didn’t remove the panties, but it was not my place to question you. Instead, I felt the pressure increase as your penis became harder and pushed the cloth deeper into my body. Your cloth-covered penis rubbed against me, faster and faster the harder you massaged my cheeks. After you finally moved the panties down to allow your penis unobstructed entrance, your digging into my ass became more painful. Your fingers massaging my ass pushed me forward so I had to hold on to your shoulders to keep my balance. The frenzy of your penis digging deeper inside me increased, and I must have whimpered. Once again I saw that strange look in your eyes. By now I didn’t know what you wanted of me. Did you want me to stay silent and endure whatever pain you inflicted? What you did next convinced me that was exactly what you wanted, and once again I’d failed you. Getting angrily to your feet, you tore the panties off and dragged me back to the table by the window. I finally got a chance to see what was inside that open black case and saw all the fetish tools of your sexual fantasies. There was the mask you placed on me and the container of honey I remember spilling over my body. A tangle of red rope reminded me how you tied me to the bed’s headboard days earlier. Other items were unfamiliar to me, but looked well worn. More than anything, I wanted to obey your every command and not disappoint you any more. You still hadn’t found your release, and you’d made it clear during these last few days this was entirely my fault. When you pulled out a wooden paddle with what looked like bloodstains on it, I felt panic for the first time that night. You held the paddle in front of you, and then gently slapped it against your own naked hip. The sound of wood against flesh made me reach out to stop you, even though I knew you weren’t hurting yourself. You seemed pleased when I grabbed your hand just as you were raising the paddle to strike your body again. “Very good.” I didn’t understand why you said that, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now. I was happy for any crumb of praise you gave. Still holding the paddle, you led me slowly back to the bed. “Now we’ll see if you’re willing to accept the pain you just took away from me. Will you give me your complete obedience without complaint?” Filled with shame for making you feel it was necessary to ask that question, I could only nod. After leaning over to put down the paddle on top of one of the two pillows, you motioned me to get onto the bed. I was unsure what you wanted me to do. When you pointed toward the bed’s footboard, I moved backwards to end crouching on bended knees. You seemed satisfied with where I was, and I watched as you placed one leg up on the bed. You were facing away from me at this point with your left foot still on the carpet. I could see the cheeks of your ass tighten when you raised the rest of your body onto the bed. You finally were lying on your back facing me with your feet inches away from my knees. Kneeling there, I first looked at the paddle by your head before my eyes went back to your face, ready for my next lesson. Once again, I didn’t understand the look you gave me. I knew the end of my training was here, however, as I watched you spread your legs. Your instructions that followed made it clear you were giving me no more chances to fail. Hardly believing what you expected of me, I listened as you softly told me, “You may touch me, but not with your hands. I give you permission to do what you want, but you are not to speak, no matter what happens.” After giving me these orders, I heard you ask, “Do you understand?” I nodded frantically, eager to start. You silently urged me to begin, by raising your hips in invitation. I crawled forward between your legs, making sure to keep my hands clasped tightly behind my back. Slowly, I leaned down to put my tongue on the tip of your penis. Wanting more, I was unable to resist and greedily started to take you into my mouth. Once a few inches were inside, my tongue caressed and circled your shaft, but this small amount of you didn’t satisfy me. Being careful not to touch you with anything other than my mouth and tongue, I pulled back then forward again to take in more of your penis. While I continued this, each time pulling you further into my mouth, I felt rather than saw you lean forward. You still weren’t fully inserted, and I increased my efforts, moving my head back and forth, excited to feel you growing stiffer inside my mouth. Your musky taste as I sucked and licked drove me to the edge of madness. No longer in control, I sank my teeth into your hard flesh before you managed to pull yourself out. I knelt there, too terrified to move. I had obeyed by not touching you with my hands or speaking. Your actions that followed made it clear I had disgraced myself by causing you pain. I knew enough not to resist when you grabbed my hair and used it to drag me back up on one of the pillows near the headboard. Finally letting go of my hair, you rolled me over on my stomach, but remained sitting at my side. I could feel your hands on my ass followed by your hot, wet mouth nibbling at the tender flesh. One of your hands moved between my tightly clenched legs. You started stroking the inside of my thighs, first softly with just your fingertips. When you brought your other hand down and roughly forced my legs apart, I relaxed my body and finally gave myself completely over to you. The sound of your laughter told me you knew you were my master, having enslaved both my body and mind. “That’s it, just relax. You belong to me now, and my power is absolute.” These words no longer frightened me, and I knew whatever happened from now on would please you. Even when you roughly shoved your thick penis into my abused ass, I wanted only to give you pleasure. Your hands grabbed my hips and held me down on the bed, all the while forcing yourself deeper into my body. When I tried to raise my body to meet your repeated thrusts, one of your hands left my hip. A sharp agonizing pain on my ass caused me to cry out in shock. You had taken the wooden paddle from the pillow beside my head and used it to slap one of my cheeks. I buried my head in the other pillow to muffle my screams since you still hadn’t given me permission to speak. You generously overlooked my first cry, but I knew that was the limit of your patience. The pain inside and out of my body increased. The noise of the bed rocking from your exertions mingled with the crack of the paddle. Each time you withdrew your penis a bit and returned to force yourself in even deeper, you slashed the paddle against my ass. First striking one cheek, then the other, all the while forcing your penis deeper and deeper inside me, you kept going. By now I was in such pain, my moans must have reached your ears, and the wild rocking of the bed suddenly ended. I heard the crash of the paddle hitting the floor when you threw it away. You still were straddling my body, your penis deep inside, but the beating had stopped. When you eased out of my body, I heard your harsh breathing. You gave me only a couple seconds to relax before you again took control of my body. You rolled me over on my back, ignoring my cry of pain when my abused ass rubbed against the coarse blanket under me. “You’re doing fine, just don’t fight me or cry out again.” After saying those cold, threatening words, you settled between my outstretched legs and continued your sensual assault on my body. I lay under you, waiting for the violence to continue, knowing nothing could be worse than what had just happened. Instead of pain, though, you gave me pleasure, a feeling of decadence and sin such as I’d never experienced before. You guided yourself in slowly, having to slightly force your penis since I still was tight and dry. Almost immediately the pressure started to build inside me as your moving hips kept up a steady rhythm. Your penetration became deeper, and I realized my sudden hot moisture must be covering your penis. You slid in and out, more rapidly now that your progress was easier. “That’s it, you feel so good. Is your mouth as hot and wet?” You were leaning on your elbows when you whispered this into my ear. Even as you stared at my mouth, all my senses concentrated on the pressure building inside me. I’d never experience an orgasm or even mild pleasure with any of my previous sexual partners, so I was unprepared for what was happening to my body. I opened my mouth, before remembering you still hadn’t given me permission to speak. Instantly, you leaned down, and your tongue swept inside. The breath left my lungs as you hungrily violated my mouth. At the same time, you continued the delightful ravishment of my body, with your tongue keeping pace with your penis in an increasingly primitive rhythm. I couldn’t help it but struggle as the pressure you were causing me deep inside me became stronger. Your mouth left mine, but I hardly noticed. You reached down to place your hand between my legs and, without any hesitation, found the spot where I was most sensitive. When your thumb began rubbing harder and harder, you shifted your body to get more leverage. By this time, you could see I was frantic, unable to keep from crying out at the new feelings I was experiencing. You didn’t stop even when my back arched and I screamed out my pleasure as I climaxed. The orgasm shook my whole body, but you didn’t give me time to recover. The pressure started again when you roughly pushed my legs back, bending them at the knees. You leaned over me, pushing down on my hips to keep me from struggling. I could feel your penis plunging even deeper, becoming so hard and thick I thought you’d rip me in half. Just as I came for the second time, I felt your body stiffen and knew you’d finally found your release at the same time. Your yell of triumph was proof, as was the sensation of your flood of semen pouring into me. When you pulled out of me, I experienced such loneliness that I wondered if I’d ever feel complete again. You rolled off and stayed lying beside me for a few minutes, as we both tried to catch our breath. Eventually, you stood and crossed the room to the table by the window. I stayed on my side, still too exhausted to move, and simply enjoyed watching the overhead light shining on your sweat-soaked skin as you walked. I was grateful you gave me a few minutes to admire your body before motioning me to join you. When I reached you, I saw you open the black case and pull out a couple items. The first one you showed me was a gold ring with a large yellow sapphire stone set into it. Taking my left hand, you placed the ring on my index finger. As you pushed it on, I heard you say, in a reverent whisper, “I place this ring on the finger named for He who will come.” I was about to speak to ask what you meant, but you shook your head to silence me. I only caught a glimpse of the second item you’d taken from the case, but saw it was a delicate chain made up of flat gold links. I thought I spotted Egyptian hieroglyphics engraved on each link. Before I could examine, it, you moved and put your arms around my waist. I felt the weight of the chain resting against my skin, soft as a feather. When you brought your arms back, each hand held one end of the chain. Again I heard your whisper as you said, “I lock this chain, and only He who will come shall unlock it.” With that, you placed the ends together. In silent awe, I watched one end melt into the other until there was only one link. You removed your hands from the chain and let it drop to end draped around my hips. “I don’t understand. Why are you giving me these?” You ignored the confusion in my voice, and didn’t answer. Instead, you turned to close the black case and locked it, after which you quickly put your clothes back on. I remained standing, helplessly waiting for you to explain. When you opened the motel room’s door, I saw the rain had stopped and the early morning sun was drying up all the puddles in the parking lot. I stood there, naked except for the ring and chain, and had never felt more vulnerable. I knew I’d have to walk that way to my car, in full view of the people now leaving their rooms on their way to breakfast. “Come here.” Your command broke into my thoughts, and I saw you had stepped outside and were waiting for me to join you. Without hesitation, I went to stand in the open doorway, my skin finally cooling as the morning breeze reached me. “I’m leaving now,” I heard you say, “but I’m more than satisfied that you’re ready for He who will come.” Before I could ask any questions, you continued, “You must never remove the ring. When He sees it on your finger, He will know I have finished preparing you.” Almost in tears, I managed to get out, “Who is He? Prepare me for what?” Still ignoring my questions, you gently ran a finger down my cheek and wiped away the tears that had started to flow there. “He chose you, and He assigned me to teach you total submission. Remember my lessons well while waiting for him. Unlike me, He will tolerate no disobedience, and his punishments are quick, harsh and permanent.” You took my face in both your hands and finished your last instructions to me. “Only He can remove the chain, and He forbids you to even touch it. You will know by the weight of it when He is near and ready to claim you as his newest conquest.” I watched as you placed the locked, black case on the ground by my bare feet. “This is his, and you are to keep it until He comes for you. Also, only He can open it, so don’t even try. He will know if you tried or if you touched his chain of possession, so I warn you one last time to obey these orders.” When you turned away and headed toward your SUV, I heard you give that one last order. “You are not to leave until I’ve driven away. I want one final pleasure of seeing you in the mirror since we’ll never see each other again.” With that, I watched you climb into your vehicle, drive out of the motel’s parking lot, and disappear around the corner. Not caring now if anyone saw me, I picked up the case and walked to my car. As I sit here finishing my note and remembering the pain and pleasure you gave me last night, I suddenly feel a subtle increase in the pressure of the chain on my hips. Until now the slight weight was barely noticeable, and I’d almost forgotten it was there underneath my sheer nightgown. The chain is becoming heavier with each passing minute, and the previously cold metal is starting to turn warm against my skin. As I yank up the nightgown, I can see the chain is starting to glow. Holding the bunched up material in both my hands, I fall to my knees, terrified of what is about to happen. Through the screened window by the front door, I can hear heavy, male footsteps coming up the steps. There is no hesitation in them, as if the person knows I’m there for him on the other side of the door. I started rocking back and forth on the floor, terrorized by what my unknown future would be like. With the chain’s heavy weight pinning me to the floor and unable to move, I watched as my unlocked front door slowly opened. He who will come walked inside, looked down at me, and said… //////////////////////////////////////////////////////// This is simply a short story that could end here. If you would like to read more about He who will come, however, you should follow the link below.
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