We would have decided to meet in person, for the first time. A ski town? Yes, a ski town.
A nice hotel, right on the slopes. One of those classic mountain lodges, done American style: large. With large rooms, large beds, large windows, large lounge, multiple stories.
The day you leave for the hotel, you get an email. It's a short one, with a few bullet points in it.
1) Arrive before me. The room will be booked under your name.
2) Get the keys, go up to the room.
3) Don't close the door – just let it rest on its locks.
3) Strip naked.
4) Put a blindfold on. Tight, so that you can't see.
5) Put cuffs on your wrists. Lock them behind your back. Tight, so that you can't wiggle out of them.
6) Stand in the middle of the room, facing the door, legs spread apart.
7) Wait until I arrive at 7PM.
8) You will only speak when spoken to.
At 7PM sharp, I stand in front of the room. I can see that it is slightly cracked open. Good. You followed at least one of the instructions, I quietly say to myself.
I had arrived fairly early in the morning, and had staked out a spot in the lounge from where I could see the check-in desk, but where the guests would have their backs turned to me. In jeans and a button-down shirt, I looked like a few of the other middle-aged men. Well, hopefully not too much like them.The latest issue of the Economist in my hand, a caipirinha on the little table in front of me, my sports bag next to me, and I was set for the next few hours. When it hit 5PM, and I still hadn't seen anything of you, I was starting to wonder. Did she get cold feet after all that talk from her? Had I missed her at the check-in? Wait – I am at the right hotel, right? A quick check of the registration email, and I calmed myself down. The date was right, the name was right, and I was being silly. Seriously, I'm supposed to be in charge here. Let's be in charge.
It wasn't much later that I spotted a tiny female figure approaching the front desk. Black hair, about shoulder length. A compact body in a dark, body-hugging, ankle-length dress. Could it be? She seems a bit tall for 5'2. Then I spot the big heels she's sporting. It's gotta be her. No, I had never seen her in flesh and blood before. All I had of her were some oddly angled and oddly lit shots, and a headless painting. But it had to be her. The profile, the tall walk – it had to be. I breathed in, and breathed out slowly. This might be interesting.
I slowly push open the door. It's dark inside – the lights must be all off, and the curtains closed. Did she fall asleep? I take a step inside, put down my sport bag, hang the do not disturb sign outside, and softly close the door. As I turn around, I see a small, dark figure in the middle of the room.
"Well, what do we have here?"
I hear you take in a sharp breath, and see you move your legs together. You even almost try to turn away. Well, that will not do. A faint grin flashes across my face. I wonder: is she's doing it on purpose, or is she genuinely is worried someone else is in the room?
The bit of light filtering in through the window shapes your body, but makes it hard to see anything else. I fumble for the light switch – they are all more or less in the same place in these rooms – and flick it on. I finally do see you – and it is a glorious sight. You did follow the instructions. Just how closely, we have to find out.
"Looks like we have a little slut here who likes showing herself off to people she has never met."
I can see you blush, and relax a little bit. This is perfect.
I take a few steps forward, and grab your jaw in my right hand. As I slowly pull your face up, I take a closer look at your blindfold. It's a thin scarf, synthetic, and badly fitting. Did I see an eye try to peek out from underneath it?
"What, did you run into CVS to get this? This will need to be fixed."
I let go of your jaw, and take a step back. Your legs are still together. There's a small shiver running up and down them.
"What's with the closed legs, fucktoy? I thought the instructions were pretty clear: legs spread. Are you trying to hide something? Maybe your wet fucking cunt? The fact that you are so utterly turned on by being naked in front of me?"
Your cheeks are turning bright red, and you quickly spread your legs. Did I just hear a bit of a whimper?
"No.... I didn't... I was..."
"Was what, slut? You follow instructions, and you follow them right. Now be quiet while I look at you."
The nipples on your perky breasts are fully erect. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, your breathing shallow. Your arms disappear behind your back, and your hips flare out nicely. As promised, your pussy is perfectly bald. Good. I hate hacking through a bush. The inside of your thighs seem to be moist. I wonder just how long you've been standing here like that.
I walk around to your backside, to inspect the cuffs. Mmh, these might actually be real cuffs. The metal shines brightly in the light – new, no doubt. But they're hanging pretty low on the wrists. With a bit of dedication, I'm sure you could get at least one hand through them. I grab the chain between the cuffs, and yank them up to take a closer look at them. The sudden movement yanks your arms straight up, and you have to quickly drop your head and torso to avoid having your shoulders painfully torqued.
"Ahh!" A small cry escapes your lips. Quickly, I give your ass cheek a hard whack with my other hand.With your ass sticking out like that, my hand makes a satisfying slap! Sound, and your cheek quickly sports a nice red hand print.
"I said quiet."
The metal feels just a little too light to be actually steel... probably aluminum. I take a closer look at the locking mechanism, and there it is: a little release button. Of course, party hand cuffs. Expecting her to find actual hand cuffs was maybe a bit unfair, but this would make for a nice lesson in what proper restraints feel like. And a good reason to torture her in ways that would flood her pussy.
"Party cuffs? What is this, a bachelor party? And they're so loose that they barely stay on. No, slut, this will definitely not do."
Feeling that you're in trouble, you try to squirm away from me. But that's the nice thing about cuffs – they're easy to tighten, and easy to hold on to. A give a quick push to the outside of the cuffs, and hear the ratcheting mechanism click a few times. There – she should feel that a bit more. I lift the cuffs up a bit more, and you almost crumble to the floor, face down, ass raised high. Time for a bit of fun.
I pull my belt out from the clasp, pull the clasp back, and unhook the clasp pin from the belt. You can hear me working on my belt, and it suddenly dawns on you that your ass is in deep, deep trouble. You try to lower your ass and crawl away, but the cuffs keep you solidly in place.
"Please, no.... please, it's going to hurt too much..."
"You have one job, fucktoy, and that is to please me. I am displeased with your weak blindfold, and I'm displeased with your even weaker cuffs. This will be your punishment."
I finally pull the belt from my pants, and wrap it around my right hand. It's a nice, long, thick piece of leather: about two inches wide, black, with a solid heft to it. I leave about a foot dangling from my hand.
Your ass is definitely shaking, I hear your whimper as you try to move your ass out of the way of the inevitable. Standing right next to you, holding your arms still up by the cuffs. I bring my right hand up. After pausing for a brief moment at the top, I bring it down right behind your ass. The leather belt trails just behind it, and with a loud whack turns your right cheek bright red. Quickly, more belt strikes follow, alternating between each cheek. You initially just try to hold it in, and just let go of a few muffled squeeks. But the belt is wide, it is fast, and it is heavy, and very soon, each strike results in a little scream of pain from you.
I stop, and inspect the damage. Nothing deep – just some superficial capillaries that have been broken, and you ass is nicely red and tender. Sitting might be be a bit uncomfortable for the next few hours.
I let go of the cuffs, and you drop your arms besides you, trying to avoid touching your ass. Your fingers are twitching, trying to reach for something, do something about the pain, but all you can do right now is avoid making worse. Walking back towards my sport bag, I grab your hair on the way, pull you up by it, and you scramble onto your feet to avoid falling. There are a few modifications that need to be made to her accessories, and I really don't want to just drag the bag over to her. She's coming with me.
"Down, slut. You move, and the belt will hurt a lot more. Understood?"
You nod your head quickly. Good. I won't have to use the belt again. I don't like breaking skin, and I'm happy that she's not so stubborn as to force me to inflict actual pain.
I zip open the bag, and dig underneath a bit of change of clothes. Ah, there they are. A roll of bondage tape, and some real, honest-to-god cuffs. First things first, the cuffs. I press the release button on your current cuffs, and pull the locks open. Easy peasy. These ones won't be so. I put one wrist into one cuff, and close the lock. You can feel that they're heavy – much heavier than the aluminum ones. They're also missing the quick release. I don't remember where I got them anymore, but I do know where their key is: on my key chain. Always. The second lock closes around the second wrist. Your wrists are tiny, and I'm at the end of the ratchet. But this works: it's not so tight to cause pain, but you're also not just wriggling out of them.
Next, that silly scarf.
"Close your eyes."
I undo the knot behind your head, and remove the scarf. Your eyes stare at me, big and shiny. They're gorgeous, and I can see the absolute desperation to please me in them. Exquisite. But it wasn't what I had asked you to do.
Slap! My hand goes across your face.
"I said, Close your eyes. Slut." My face is close to yours, the Slut is snarled right at you, and you swallow and quickly close your eyes. Bondage tapes is tight, and if your eyes stay open, it can become very uncomfortable to close them. Much better this way. I grab your hair and position your head up. I unroll a good chunk of the tape, start over your right cheekbone and run it over your left eye, behind the back of your head – need to move the hair out of the way a bit so that it doesn't pull the tape away – over your right temple, and down across your right eye and then your left eye. After 4 loops, your eyes are sealed off, and the tape makes a gorgeous x-pattern over your face.
"Please..." I hear you whimper.
"Please I'll be good. Let me service you please. Please!"
"Are you begging? What, your ass hurting teaches you some manners?"
"Yes, please, I don't want to be spanked anymore it hurts..."
I push your head back down to the ground, run my hands over your sensitive ass, and plunge three fingers right into a sopping wet, dripping pussy. Wow. She IS turned on....
"Your ass hurts, but your cunt is like a geyser. Are you such a slut that being spanked turns you on this much? Does it, slut?"
