A note from the author: I knew when I wrote the first chapter of
Hotel Bar Meetup
that it deserved more. When I labeled this story as BDSM with very little of it in the first chapter, it was because I already had more chapters in mind. Hopefully
Saturday Morning
will be a bit more fitting for the original category. Enjoy!
Hotel Bar Meetup: Saturday Morning
Vixen
The smell of hot coffee hits my senses first. It pulls me from a deep sleep that was dreamless and restful. My eyes crack to the bright sunlit room of mid-morning, and I see the object of my olfactory pleasure. Without thinking I reach out and grab the steaming cup and bring it to my lips. I take in my hotel room, which looks basically the same as it did the day before other than my clothes strewn across the floor. I notice there are no men's clothes accompanying them. A momentary sadness creeps in before my auditory senses catch up; the shower is running.
Practically giddy I put the coffee down and wrap the sheet around me for a closer inspection. The door is already slightly cracked open and I peer inside just a bit. The room is steamed up, but I can still see his silhouette behind the frosted glass shower door. How can watching a guy scrub shampoo out of his hair be this sexy? My eyes are greedy and look him up and down. His back is turned to me at the moment and I can make out broad shoulders and tanned skin that taper down to a well muscled ass that is begging for me to squeeze it.
When he turns I am not even the least bit concerned about being caught. I brazenly open the door more and take in every bit of him. While I'm practically drooling I hear a sudden, "I didn't give you permission to be in here now." which sends me jumping out of my skin and retreating with my tail between my legs.
Embarrassment creeps into me and I feel my face reddening. He has a point, I guess I just assumed that because of last night that he wouldn't mind me looking at his naked body.
Way to set women's rights back by about a century by assuming consent, you idiot!
Embarrassment quickly turns to shame and I am ready to profusely apologize when I hear the water shut off and he comes into the room with a towel draped haphazardly around his waist.
There are beads of water still streaming down his torso and under the towel. His hair is soaked and tousled every which way. My mouth literally opens at the sight. When my senses return I slowly trail my eyes back to his face and he is looking at me with...disappointment? I wasn't expecting that and my nerves are rearing their ugly heads again. Thankfully before I start to spiral, he commands the room with that damn voice.
"Do you need a reminder of the rules for the weekend, Vixen?" is the ice breaker to our now rapidly chilling morning. I can't help but feel like a child being reprimanded. Looking up through my eyelashes I nod my head at him, appearing the ever-ashamed-of-my-behavior young lady.
Shifting into a business mood, he walks confidently to the table and hands me a piece of paper I hadn't even noticed before. I begin to read the lines, but as I start he begins to rattle each listed sentence off one by one without missing a beat:
"Rule number five - If at any point either party feels uncomfortable, unsafe, or in need of something not being given, he or she may use the safe-word, as established before the time of the meeting, without further question. The safe-word being?" he was prompting me, but I was engrossed in the document and missed it. Apparently I annoyed him. A very commanding, "Vixen!" breaks through the momentary distraction and I practically stand at attention.
"I'm sorry, Dom! Yes the safe-word; it's 'yellow' for slow down, and 'red' for quit immediately. I remember." tumbles out of my mouth. My eyes are glued to his now, and I can see I have somehow disappointed him again.
What did I do this time?
My mind spins thinking of what egregious sin I committed now. He must see the panic in my eyes and he throws me a lifeline.
"Sir." is his lifeline of choice. My forehead wrinkles and I'm at a loss.
Did he just call me sir?
A slight movement of his mouth that was too quick for me to determine if it was the beginning of a smile or not flashes in an instant. "When you are done speaking to me, you will refer to me as sir unless told otherwise. Rule number three." After this recited rule I glance down to the paper and find rule number three. He nailed it.
"Rule number four; Sub will only do things with permission of Dom. This is not limited to sexual things, but anything she may need throughout their time together." His voice could never be called robotic, but it definitely adopts a sort of official quality to it when he recites the rules. It almost sounds like he is used to addressing people with clear cut, black and white lines that are not to be crossed.
Maybe he's a lawyer or something?
We went over these rules before the meetup was agreed upon, and they are coming back to me now. When I lower the paper I say with confidence, "I remember now, sir. Rule two is-"
"Do not interrupt me!" is said with a bass timber that has me whimper a bit. I can feel tears sting my eyes as the realization of the humiliation hits and I will them to go away by biting on my lower lip. My eyes instinctively lower and I look at his bare feet and muscular calves. I'm messing up so much it's embarrassing, and that stupid voice inside of my head goes into
you're in over your head
again.
As a single tear rolls down my cheek a finger presses under my chin and lifts my face to look into his eyes. He looks more tender now. With command and kindness somehow wrapped into one single voice he states, "Rule number two, do not ever give your dom reason to not trust you. And finally, rule number one: always trust your dom. Without trust this will never be what it was meant to be." I never knew reciting rules of bondage and submission could be so romantic. The idea is bizarre and very new to me, but somehow the rules of trust make this whole idea akin to something like marriage vows.
"Yes, sir." whispers out of me and up to him. He is satisfied with my response, and drops my chin slightly to walk back to the bathroom. I'm left there feeling a bit confused, but when he returns seconds later he is holding a brown paper bag that clearly has something inside.
"Let's begin, my little Vixen." is accompanied by a smirk and a devious look in his eyes.
Dom
She is very new to this world. A more experienced submissive would have had those rules memorized exactly as I had written them to her by the very next day. But I wasn't looking for experienced; not this time. I wanted someone new to this world of pleasure. I haven't trained many women for bondage and submission, but when I have it is always a memory that sticks out in my mind as incredibly arousing.
Last night was a release that was needed. I'm afraid my casualness for the evening may have thrown my little vixen off of what was really in store for the weekend. Time to get her back on track. I have had subs in the past mistake my care for them for romantic feelings. That has a tendency to ruin things. This isn't romantic in the traditional sense of the word, but is deeply satisfying on more than just a sexual level. The two things get confused in these relationships fairly often when the Dom is an actual Dom and not some jackass who just gets off to being cruel to women.
I've seen plenty of those too and they make me sick. This woman in front of me, eager to please me, and eager to learn deserves better treatment than that of an innocent being shamed for having sexual desires by a boy pretending to be a man. When I found her online I knew I had to be the one to show her this world, and the thoughts of all of the things I plan to teach her this weekend makes me hard every time I think about them.
Lesson one: choice is everything
. I smirk to myself with the brown bag in my hand. I turn my back to her and lay each item from the bag onto the dresser at the front of the room. Happy with my assortment I beckon her forward with just a come hither of one finger.
When she raises from the bed the sheet wrapped around her body, I can see the shape of her; she does not disappoint. She's curvier than I know she likes, but I will never understand why. The fullness of her hips and ass make her look like something decadent and tempting. Like licking chocolate batter off of a spoon. Her legs are long and lean, making her above average height for a woman. This has me thinking of different positions my tall frame can't always do on shorter women; like bending her at the waist and taking her from behind without having to prop her against anything or lift her the whole time. Finally those insanely full breasts that have more bounce in them than should be legal for natural tits. I can't help my inner teenage boy from showing up when her tits are outlined so perfectly by the white sheet;
I just wanna bury my face in those
flies through my mind.
Bringing myself back to the current situation I let her step up to the dresser and see what's in front of her. I giver her a second to take in all three objects before I start to explain, "Remote control vibrator, collar with lead, and nipple clamps. Vixen, you will be picking one of these to start your morning with me." Her timid and pretty face looks up at me with a puppy-dog look to her. She doesn't know which one to pick and is intimidated. I have to remind myself how new she is, and to be patient with my budding flower.
"You will use all of them at some point this weekend unless you say otherwise. I'm letting you decide what you want to feel when we leave the room this morning. The vibrator will be comfortable physically, it's the mental instability of not knowing when I may push the button that will have you on edge. But you will definitely cum fastest with this one." She needs to understand what each will do for her, and I can tell by her focused look back at the objects that she is hearing what I am saying and taking it all into account.
"The collar and lead are rather self-explanatory. Watching light humiliation on porn is something you said often made you wet in our chats together. I thought you could try some of your own this weekend. This is another mental one that puts your brain into excited mode while simultaneously evoking an emotion that is more complex. It can lead to more trust between us, which intensifies pleasure." Based on her face alone I can tell she is not sure what to think about the collar, I'm guessing it'll get pushed to later.
"The third and final are the nipple clamps. Mixing pain with pleasure also intensifies pleasure. This one will cause discomfort at first, but you will eventually get used to the feeling. When I take them off of you it will be damn near torturous and I will make sure it's when you're on the edge." Her eyes widen at that, but her stare continues onto the objects. I patiently watch her as she scans them back and forth; decisions are not to be rushed.
My smile can not be avoided when her fingers brush over the bullet vibrator and she looks up at me for approval. I can barely hear her when her voice softly whispers, "I want to try the remote controlled vibrator this morning, Dom." The sweetness of her voice combined with the innocence is unnerving. I almost feel like some villain deflowering the innocent maiden.
