'The Submissive will be worthy of mastering by honouring her commitments.'
Its over a month since my initiation and the marks of you on my body are long since gone. I am frustrated and my lack of patience is not conducive to serving you well.
I slip into the hotel room later than we agreed, wash myself and walk around the room deliberately naked. I notice the creases you have made to the sheets just a few minutes before. I imagine you lying there and it is making my stomach roll in anticipation.
On the bedside table there are two lengths of rope and next to them a small vibrating plug. You've asked me to slip this inside me before I see you and as I shower I squirt some lube onto my fingers, run them around my tight asshole and exhale as it nudges me open.
I step into the dress I have chosen and undo a few of the buttons that trace their way neatly up my thigh. I roll the soft suede boots I've chosen for the occasion over each knee in turn and run to the elevator, which does nothing to calm my already quickening heart rate.
I spot you in the bar and as I slide into the seat across from you I pause for longer than necessary to drink you in. You look fucking handsome.
I wonder if we might slip into flirtatious conversation but you lean across the table and hand me a bag with what I am certain is a sex toy in it, although you aren't interested in confirming it and I like you more for it.
The nights creeps in and it's time to go to our room. As I rise from the sofa you've sat uncomfortably close to me on for the last few hours I realise that my balance is less than optimal after one too many drinks and next to no appetite for food.
The lights flicker to life in room 1401 and I flash my eyes across to you playfully. You do not reciprocate the sentiment.
'Take off your clothes'.
I look at you quizzically. 'Can I put on my outfit please?'
'No you may not. You can stay where you are and take off your clothes.'
I imagine what you are watching. Its an inelegant display as I fumble with my clothing and struggle to pull my boots off. The process is humbling. I stand in front of you with my hands crossed in front of me and you deliberately leave a longer than necessary pause before delivering your next instruction. 'bend over, put your hands flat on the desk and wait.'
Good. I let myself imagine the things you might do to me as my back turned, I wait ...and wait and imagine some more but you do nothing at all. Minutes keep ticking by and it is intolerable.
At regular intervals you come over to lightly kick the hotel's waste bin between my legs to stop me regaining some dignity and for 15 minutes or so this continues in torturously long cycles as you remind me that I wont be late for you again or the next time you'll make me piss in the bin. Its demeaning.
I am furious and enthralled.
I punch at a soft toy that is sitting on the hotel desk smiling at me and send it flying into a wall. You laugh at me and I immediately know I am now further away from the outcome I desire.
'You can put on the outfit now.'
Finally.
I pick it out of the drawer and start walking to the bathroom. 'Here. You can put that on here.'
You recline into a chair as I struggle with putting the right limb through the numerous straps under your watchful gaze.
Behind you is a full length feature mirror that pops out from the wall. Its forward facing illumination floodlights the subject and I can see that you have cleared a space in front of it.
'When you are finished, come here and stand facing the door.' I step into you hoping to provoke your touch but save for the blindfold you place across my eyes your hands are busy behind me with something else.
I place my wrists together in front of me and you start to bind them, looping them back and forth until you are satisfied enough to knot them off. A trail of rope sways in front of me and I feel you arch over my shoulder before my wrists are pulled upwards levered by a metal hook which I can now hear knocking against the doorframe.
My back arches to find tolerance in this stress position and I pull down and lengthen myself towards you, my ass begging for your attention. Your hands swirl around my cheeks and down onto my thighs. They are at work sticking things and I cant work out what the purpose of this might be. I dip lower into them hoping you'll let me have your fingers inside me but instead I sit back into a smooth, hard object pushing its length into my lightly trained asshole.
I wince a little and I hear you running more rope upwards again past my head. I stand on my tiptoes unsure of how to accommodate this new device and as I sink back down I realise that my body is hooked in a position that perfectly presents my holes to you for fucking.
A wrapper tears in my peripheral hearing and your cock does not ask for invitation as you sink its thickness all the way up to my belly in one deliberate motion.