Note: This story contains scenes of "consensual non-consent," and "threatened" impregnation between a Dom and sub who have worked these things out ahead of time.
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She sagged against her hotel room door, relieved to be "home". She always got a lot done on these work trips, but it still seemed to take twice as long to run the usability tests as it should—either the test subjects were difficult, or the local staff ran things completely differently than she did. It was enough to make her yearn for home—until her eyes fell on the package that had been delivered to her room.
Years ago, she had realized she was a natural submissive and, being a submissive woman in the age of the internet, had made...friends with several dominant men online, exploring her kinks and learning more about "the scene." Some of the men had been more serious than others, and she'd even had real life encounters with a few of them in her younger days, submitting to tops of varying skill and learning more about what she liked. Eventually though, she fell in love with and married a nice, vanilla man, and tried to leave it all behind her. Only she found that her submissive desires were harder to get past than she'd expected, and while she didn't meet anyone anymore, she found herself keeping in touch with a couple of her old playmates for the occasional hot conversation, when her need became too great to ignore.
And then a year ago her job had started sending her around the country to run user tests. Sometimes her husband went with her, but most of the time she was left bored and lonely for a few days at a time in a strange city, with nothing but her submissive fantasies to keep her company—and a couple dominant men who were more than willing to fan those flames until she felt like she was going mad with need.
It started with texting—just exchanging intense fantasies. Then it was a phone call, where she found herself naked and urgently rubbing her clit while a top gave her orders, hearing him whisper into her ear about what he would do to her if he were there. And then next time he was, showing up and making her do all the things he'd described despite her weak protests, treating her like the plaything she still craved to be. The time after that, it was another dom she'd kept in touch with who appeared at her hotel room door—this one spending hours positioning her body and fucking all three of her holes again and again, while she begged for more like a needy, cock-hungry slut.
Now she didn't try to ignore her nature—whenever she traveled alone, she worked during the day and wore a collar at night. No matter what city she flew to, one top or another was able to make time to join and use her, acting as her Master for however long could be arranged, indulging her need to submit while she satisfied their desire to dominate, before everyone went back home to their regular lives. This trip it would be the top who had first come to her—someone she had known off and on since college, who seemed to have an endless appetite for her submission and suffering, and went from tender to cruel at a whim.
It was his delivery that was waiting in her room.
He'd started sending items ahead a few months ago—as he put it, "I don't want to tell TSA why I have a suitcase full of sex toys and torture devices." Plus, on visits where he couldn't show up right away, he would make sure she had something to play with, usually while he directed—and listened to her moan—on the phone.
This time there would be no virtual domination however—his flight was due to land in a couple hours. But written on the outside of the box was a very clear message: OPEN ME.
Shivering slightly in anticipation, she took some time dropping her bag and changing into a t-shirt and sweats before settling on the bed and opening the box—a big one this time. Right on top was a mass of leather straps. A flogger, she wondered? Reaching in she heard the clink of metal rings, and her eyes widened as she pulled it out, blurting, "You've got to be kidding me." It was a bodysuit made up entirely of thin strips, held together only by some small rings. Taped to it was a note: "Put this on when I text you from the airport."
"It's going to take me that long just to untangle the thing," she grumbled, but carefully laid it aside, feeling herself growing wet at the idea of wearing something so blatantly sexual for her Master. Beneath it were a pair of leather shackles she knew very well, and a realistic dildo that had been inside her more times than she could count. Finally, lying loose at the bottom, was a pair of nipple clamps. There was also another box, only slightly smaller than the one it had come in, with the words, "NOT FOR TOYS" written in black marker. Clearly, she mused as she set it aside, he planned to save some surprises for later in the visit—two whole nights, this time.
She looked at her phone—an hour before he was due to land. Plenty of time for a quick shower, and to try figure out how that "outfit" was supposed to go on. She stripped and headed to the bathroom, pausing at the mirror to consider her small, slender body, running her hands lightly over her breasts, noticing her nipples were already hard as she pictured his hands in place of hers. She reached up and wrapped her fingers in her short, thick, straight black hair, tugging the way he liked, watching herself and feeling her arousal build with the anticipation, before smiling self-consciously and starting the shower.
Afterwards she sat on the bed wrapped in a towel and held the untangled suit up. She'd looked up a YouTube video to make sure she didn't put it on backwards—she had never been one for really elaborate lingerie. She looked dubiously at the ensemble—she could already tell it was going to show way more than it concealed. In fact, she was beginning to suspect it wouldn't cover anything important at all. Suddenly her phone buzzed, and she looked down at the incoming text.
"Landed, toy. Put it on, and place everything else on the dresser. Prepare a kneeling station by the door. Further instructions when I'm downstairs."
Biting her lip, she typed back, "Yes sir," and dropped her towel.
It took her a few minutes, and she was thankful he'd gotten the size right. When the final snap was fastened she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and reddened with humiliation. It covered nothing—it was just a series of straps wrapped around her torso that left her breasts and pussy bare, held up by shoulder straps and a few strategic buttons. It was ridiculous—she'd rather be nude than wear something so...blatant. For one rebellious moment she thought of ripping the whole thing off and making up a story about how it hadn't fit, and suffering the inevitable consequences. Yet even as she thought that she found herself picking up a towel and placing it on the floor, at the same time checking that the other items were on the dresser as instructed. Arousal was paired with humiliation from the outfit, already putting her in a submissive space before he'd even arrived—probably exactly as he'd intended, she reflected.
She sat on the bed, getting used to how the straps slid across her body, and was testing her ability to move when her phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her, saying, "I'm here. Kneel, with your hands secured behind your back."
She took a deep breath and put her phone down, next to the keys she'd found, making sure both were close to the edge in case she had to free herself for some reason Then she walked to the dresser and picked up the shackles, her fingers sliding over the tough leather, closing her eyes for a moment in blissful memory, before wrapping one around a wrist, and securing it with its tiny padlock. She then knelt on the towel, legs slightly spread as she'd been trained, and placed her hands behind her back, slipping her free wrist into the restraint, her fingers finding the second lock. With a slightly nervous look at the door, hoping nothing kept him long, she pushed the lock closed, leaving her bound and helpless and waiting to be found.
She tugged slightly on the bonds and felt a little thrill as they held firm. She straightened her back, knowing the way her arms were pinned was thrusting her breasts out and up the way he liked. The straps around her chest were a new sensation, and she caught herself squirming, experimenting with them, her nipples rock hard and her pussy wet as she imagined the picture she made, kneeling and helpless, wrapped up like a present. She felt vulnerable as she pulled again on her wrists, and found herself spreading her legs a little wider as she began to anticipate what was to come—what he would do to her when he found her like this.
She stilled as she heard footsteps pause outside her door, and arched slightly, striving to hold the best pose possible. There was a beep, and she saw the handle turn. For one terrified moment she suddenly wondered what she would do if it wasn't him—if, somehow, it was someone else who was coming into her room right now. Her breath caught as she remembered some of the wilder fantasies they'd shared, of him giving her to someone else to use, while he watched her fuck a stranger. Apprehension flooded through her, yet at the same time her pussy was soaked as she accepted that she had no control anymore.
It was only her training that kept her from sagging in relief when she saw only her Master step in, a bag slung over his shoulder. He was as she remembered him—tall and broad shouldered, with short brown hair and lips that always seemed quirked in a slight smile. He paused for a moment, holding the door open as his eyes raked over her displayed body, before he murmured, "Good girl," and closed it behind him. He walked past her, making her wait as she heard him drop his bag and coat somewhere out of sight. She braced herself as she heard him pause by the dresser where she'd set out his gifts, and then flinched slightly when he tossed a pillow onto the floor in front of her.
Suddenly she felt a hand in her hair, pulling her head back, forcing her to look up at him, aware of how her breasts were being thrust even further out. He smiled, his eyes slowly moving from her chest to her face as he said, "Hello toy."
"Hello sir," she replied, swallowing.
