A Harsh Initiation

Its late August and rain is starting to flush through weeks of intense heat in Paris.

He has asked me to meet him at a wine tasting in the 8th Arrondissement and the mix of formality in this humidity is stifling.

An acquaintance from a networking dinner, this man is still a stranger to me and I have yet to take in the detail of his face. I have a few hours now to observe him as he tastes wine with a composure and unhurriedness I had hoped for. I wonder if he is watching me too, but he seems singular in his focus on the guest speaker.

'Take off your jacket.' He asks.

'I cant, I'm not wearing something suitable.' I reply. Immediately I realise the mistake and it flushes across my face.

'Are you pushing back already?'

'sorry.' I'm embarrassed and its not an emotion I am accustomed to with any recency.

'Go to the bathroom and take off your underwear instead.' This time I know better.

I return and slide into the seat next to him. He seems incurious about my new state of undress and I have to check myself from speaking inanely to try and solicit his attention. I find myself quipping about the lady sat across from us who resembles a horse when she chuckles. His lips curl slightly and he takes another sip.

'Its time to go now.'

He pulls out my chair and as I stand with my back to him I realise that I am aware of my body and the shape of me in a way that has never concerned me before. I am unseated in this new dynamic and my ego is fighting it.

He guides me towards the hotel bar and this time we are sat across from one another. There is a kindness to his face that I hadn't taken in until now and I let myself imagine kissing him before he leans across and interrupts my thoughts.

'Here is the room key, 15 minutes should be enough time to wash yourself and get ready. When I enter the room you should be in a state of undress and have your back turned, facing away from the door. Did you eat when I asked you to earlier on?'

'Not really, im sorry.'

'Take these olives and go now please.'

I walk toward the lift, overly focused on every step and when the sliding doors shut I am find myself suddenly intensely overwhelmed by the impending unknown. My heart is pounding and I have no choice but to spend a precious few minutes focusing on my breathing to get through it.

The room is dimly lit and oversized. Laid out on a low table is a carefully curated selection of sex toys from which I feel immediately compelled to look away. The precision of each instrument is intimidating and I feel uncharacteristically naïve in this environment.

I take a shower and try to absorb myself in the familiarity of feeling, taking care to pat my skin dry I step into my studded knickers. I unfurl the suspender belt to cage my waist and loop the stocking clips under, so they sit snugly against my thighs. I pause to take a look in the mirror as I fasten my bra. I need to steady myself and let out a long breath before strapping my ankles into the unforgiving leather heels.

I choose a place to stand at the end of the bed, tug at my hairband and try to find comfort in the stillness.

The door clicks almost immediately and I find myself willing him to speak, but for the soft whirring of the air conditioning he holds the silence.

My mind is racing through the ways in which I could make efforts to try and seduce him but instead I resolve to stay still and wait for his inspection.

I feel the air shift behind me and my skin is prickling with his proximity now but when his fingers reach me it is to knot my hair and pull a blindfold across my eyes.

He leans closer in to me and holds my shoulders gently.

'I wont gag you this time. During this session I want you to communicate with me. When you address me you will call me by my first name or Sir at all times, is that clear?'

'Yes Sir.'

'Step forward, place your hands flat on this table and spread your legs at a shoulders width apart for me.'

He exhales and I imagine his view.

'I am going to reposition you. Arch your back and spread your legs further apart.' He guides the small of my back down gently until the curve of my ass meets his wrist.

He steps away from me and I brace myself in anticipation as he returns. I feel his hands glide down my thighs and a wave of shame ripples through me as he removes what little I had left to hide behind.

The sound of Velcro crackling peaks my attention, I move to shift my stance inwards slightly but a tug on my ankles informs me that a bar is now holding me open.

A hand on the small of my back again and my back arches obediently.

Thwack! His open hand strikes me hard across my exposed ass. I wasn't ready.

'Tell me what the pain of that felt like on a scale of one to ten?'

'a five Sir.'

With almost no pause for me to finish speaking he strikes me again and this time it forces the breath from my lungs.

'and this one?'

'An eight Sir or a nine.'

'Do you like to be in that range?'

'I think so Sir.'

'Good.'

He takes a step closer in to me, I imagine him examining his work on my skin and as he does so his cock deliberately brushes against my thigh. I am flooded with want and his fingers now gliding across my slit confirms it.

He walks away again and I can hear him take a stance behind me.

'I want you to count to ten for me.'

'one.'

He strikes me across both cheeks and the dull flat pain of a paddle seeps across my skin and my curiosity for the ebb and flow of discomfort is ignited.

'two'

This is different now. I can feel tails whipping around my legs and there is a sharpness of pain that is novel and dangerous.

'three'

His strokes are exacting and he toys with me masterfully in between, conducting my journey between pain and pleasure with a precision that has me in the palm of his hand.

I am struggling to count as the numbers get lower, he pauses for a moment and I wonder momentarily if I can take more, but my desire to please him is already insatiable.

'ten'.

I am gasping with the sting of his final blow. My back arches into a bridge and I clutch at the table to try and channel the pain down through my arms and push it into the inanimate object beyond my body.

I am still reeling when the softness of his mouth meets mine and the kiss cuts through a haze of nerve endings. I suck around his tongue for comfort and he pushes it deeply between my lips.

I am hooked on the relief of it until he breaks away and I am left wet and disorientated.

I wait patiently and soon his hands are circling the curve of my breasts, his thumbs reach my nipples and I can feel his grip tighten to a pinch. I have already imagined the relief of their release but the pinch only seems to tighten as I hear a clip attach itself and then across upon the other side.

I cant help but moan and writhe in pain between his hands and I make the mistake of imagining how he might soothe me. My thoughts are corrected as he lifts me across his shoulders and unfolds me onto the bed. I lift my head in protest before I feel his fingers push their way into me forcefully beckoning my G spot.

He continues fucking me with his hand and I feel sure that if I let myself go I would cover him in my cum and wet the bed. I push my hips up to bring myself to the edge and he stops.

His hands curve around my breasts and my nipples are being pulled, a pain that momentarily feels beyond my tolerance level but as fast as it comes I feel it go and I melt into the soothing warmth of his tongue encircling each one in turn.

He leaves me spread open on the bed and I exhale deeply to try and draw back some equilibrium before he penetrates me again, this time with something cool and hard.

For a moment I fantasize that it is his cock and feel deliberately disobedient at the thought.

'Breathe in.'

As I do the toy in my pussy starts to stretch me and continues centimetre by centimetre until I cry out a little.

'What does it feel like?'

'Like I am being opened for you.'

He holds me there and I imagine him watching. I wonder if he is touching himself or if he just likes to look and the thoughts drive me wild.

He cradles my head in his hands across the edge of the bed and my lips meet his cock. I part them but I have sorely underestimated his girth. I lick my lips and reset, this time I stretch my mouth wide try to open my throat in the same way as my pussy and shudder a little at the deliciousness of feeling so full.

He slowly fucks my mouth and my senses are ringing with pleasure. The continuity of motion will bring me to orgasm and I smugly imagine coming without telling him. But as I lie savouring the thought I feel the toy being pulled from inside me and he is gone again.

For a moment I consider pleading with him for his cock, but I remind myself that it is not my place to ask and admonish myself for having the thought.

I bring my knees up for him and feel an instrument cupping my pussy. I cant identify the sensation nor do I have time before I feel it sucking hungrily in short bursts at my lips. I quickly move from pleasure to feeling tortured. The transition is becoming addictive.

The instrument stays as a vibrator moves in between my thighs and there are so many contrasting feelings I am struggling to focus as the pressure is eventually released and I am left again on my own disoriented from the moments before.

'touch yourself for me.'

I move my hands down to meet my open legs with expectant familiarity, but as I stroke my lips they are strangers to me now. Puffed and distorted, my pussy feels used and fucked.

I know that he is watching again and for a moment I am outside of my body observing the display. I have watched this on a screen and now it is me who is the subject. The thought of it makes me drip with pride.

My mouth is dry.

'Please could I drink something Sir?'

'Yes, you may.'

He returns and asks me to kneel. I open my mouth in anticipation of the glass meeting my lips but instead a stream of liquid starts to pour down my chin and across my chest.

I lap at the water desperately thinking that he will slow the stream to meet my mouth but he continues, leaving me sat on the bed sheets soaking in fluids. I imagine him amusing himself with the scene.

'lie face down.'

I turn over and feel his weight, his cock pushes up in to me and the reward of it feels intense.

'Your cock feels so fucking good in my pussy Sir.'

'cunt.' He corrects me. 'try cunt for me.'

'Your cock feels fucking good in my cunt Sir.'

I feel the tops of his feet hook around my calves and he uses the leverage to push his length into me until my belly is full.

I can barely accommodate him and I instinctively I reach for my clit to try and take the edge off my discomfort.

The combination of pain, pleasure and the denial he has inflicted on my orgasm so far is pushing me over the edge.

'I want to come Sir.'

'Count back from ten.'

I start in a hurry.

'ten'

His feet grip at my ankles harder and his cock presses against my G spot with relentless pressure.

'nine' I bury my face in the sheets.

'eight' I manage to muffle.

'seven' all of my energy centres down through my hips.

'three', 'two'. 'one' I manage to mouth the final word as wave after wave of pleasure courses through my body and I lose the ability to speak.

He holds me tightly from behind, his arm across my chest and for a few moments I am somewhere outside of that hotel room in a place beyond both of our bodies reach.

I come back down with a burning need to pleasure him and a raging desire to tasting him.

'lets see what your cocksucking is like then.' He teases.

I get onto my knees and lick the palms of both hands. I start massaging his cock in a gently twisting upwards motion towards my mouth and then run my lips down his shaft in momentum.

'two hands.'

I wrap both my hands around him, one above the other and start to increase the pace. I hear him groan a little and I stick out my tongue to roll the tip of his cock across. I want him to watch.

I relax my jaw to take more of him in and soon I am fucking him with my mouth sucking hungrily for his cum.

He leans back a little and starts to pump his seed down my throat. It takes me by surprise and I have underestimated his load. I pull back choking on all fours...

It seems there is still a lot to learn.