He observed me in silence.
I let my blouse drop, unhooked my bra, and wriggled out of it. As I stood there in my panties and heels, he motioned with his finger for me to continue so I kicked my shoes into a corner, hooked my fingers in my panties and pulled them off.
“Good,” he said, but I was unable to read his reaction. Did he find me attractive? His expression gave nothing away as he strode over to a suitcase resting on a luggage stand, retrieved a few items, and placed them on the bed.
“The first thing I’d like you to do is choose which of these tools you’d like me to use on you first.” He beckoned me to come toward the bed, where he laid out three implements. One looked like a long reed, the other was a black riding crop, and the third was a silver stick with a wheel made up of tiny tines. As much as I enjoyed our play with the forks I wanted to try the last one, so I reached to pick it up.
“Ah, ah, ah!” He held up a finger to stop me. “That’s not how you’re going to show me. Choose the one you’d like me to use on you first, then I want you to pick it up with your teeth and bring it to me.”
Odd instructions, but I felt a stirring between my legs nonetheless. Climbing on the bed, I tried to pick up the wheeled toy with my mouth. Several times I almost had it, but then dropped the blasted thing. It was almost impossible to get it to stay in my mouth. Finally, I caught it between my teeth and crawled toward him with it.
He removed it from my mouth and patted me on the head, which felt better than it should have.
“Now pick out the next one.” I turned and looked at the two items left on the bed. At this point, I based my decision on which would be easier to pick up and carry in my mouth. The reed looked difficult to get hold of, but I was afraid the crop would be too heavy, so I went for the skinny bamboo-looking stick.
I sucked it between my lips, clamped it tight, and brought it to him proudly.
“Good girl.” He petted my head and stroked my hair in a way that made me want to nuzzle him like a cat. “Now, lie down on your back, spread-eagled, and raise your arms above your head.”
Getting into the position he choreographed for me, I felt more like a performer than myself, a magician’s assistant—part of the act. The whole thing was so surreal. Especially because Quentin had turned out to be so good-looking. It was like being trapped in the dream sequence of a movie.
I was disappointed to see that he remained in his clothes, but since I tasted his cock earlier, I expected to see it again. My mouth began to water as I pondered how it was possible to have two such incredible surprises in one day.
He took some rope from his bag and wrapped it around my wrists. I loved the feel of the rope, there was something about it… something raw and sensuous that made my pussy clench. The rope he used was made of hemp, and it was more coarse than the silky white rope I’d been eyeing at the hardware store, fantasizing about. He secured the ropes under the bed, and made sure my restraints were sufficiently tight, but not so tight they cut off my circulation.
As I lay there with him kneeling over me, working on my wrists, his crotch loomed centimeters from my face. I wanted to nudge him with my chin, but I knew better so I lay there patiently, aching to touch him, but knowing I had to earn those privileges.
Moving down my body, he made a production of letting the coarse rope scrape across my nipples. The rope slid over my skin, lightly scratching me, making me arch my back for more, but instead he turned his focus to my ankles.
“You’re very responsive. That’s good. I want you to feel everything I do to you. Everything.” He went back to securing my left ankle then he teased me with the rope on the other side, making my nipple harden into a tight bud.
He groaned and bent his head to taste me. His lips covered my breast, flicking over the hard point of my nipple with his tongue. Then he bit down, trapping me between his teeth, and gently gnawed at me, sending jubilant waves through my body and making my cunt throb with need. His hands caressed my neck, my torso, my other breast, and I lurched against my bonds, trying to touch him back. Biting my nipple, he rose, stretching it away from my body until I yelped in pain, then he released me from his grasp and went back to work binding my other ankle.
I wanted to complain, to yell at him not to get me all worked up, then leave me there helpless with no way to satisfy myself, but I knew this was precisely the state he aimed to put me in.
Once he had me bound, he sat at the edge of the bed between my legs. I felt so vulnerable, with my pussy exposed, no way to close my legs. Modesty was nonexistent in our relationship, but I’d grown up with the concept so ingrained in me that it was hard to ignore my wish for it now.
“Close your eyes. Focus on the sensations.”
“Yes, sir.” I had no idea what would come next, but I shut my lids and tried to breathe evenly.
He took one of my feet firmly in his hands and began to massage it. Rubbing the length of my sole, he squeezed and worked my heel, kneaded inside my arch, pressing his thumbs in just the right spot. I relaxed completely, savoring his touch. He massaged the balls of my feet, then wiggled each toe, stimulating them in places I didn’t even know were there. He blew on my little piggies and rubbed the crevices between them. It felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. Then he gave the same amazing treatment to my other foot.
When he finished, he must have picked up the wheeled toy I’d first chosen because, even though I didn’t dare open my eyes, I felt the cold steel run up the bottom of my foot then up to my thigh. He ignored my pussy, but dragged the wheel over my breast, and up to the top of my head via my hairline.
“Is that what they call a Wartenberg wheel?” I asked.
“It is. Do you like it?”
“So far…”
“Yes, it can be evil as well. It depends on how you use it.”
He raked it down my other side, down my other breast, over my abdomen, down my inner thigh, ending at the bottom of my foot. Each place he’d rolled it over had awakened and it invigorated my skin.
Suddenly something cold and wet entered my vagina. A hard object, definitely not human. I stiffened, trying to keep myself from peeking. “What is that?” My voice trembled.
“A nightstick, actually. Not as pliable as a dildo, I know, but it will suffice for now. If you’re a good girl, you might earn the real thing.”
“A real dildo or a real cock?” I asked, half joking.
“My cock.”
A shiver of anticipation zipped through me. God how I wanted to have his cock inside me now, though my body did seem to be responding to the current intruding object as he fucked me with it. I tried to relax again, to focus on the fucking. I was happy that it was my Master doing it, pleasuring me…
But my thoughts were interrupted by a vicious roll of the Wartenberg wheel zinging across my breast. This time he dug in deeper, and it hurt. Well, it almost hurt. Confusingly, it felt rather nice at the same time. Another zinging combination of pleasure and pain.
He fucked me with the nightstick while he wheeled that baneful tool over my nipples one at a time. I tugged at my arm restraints and groaned through tight lips.
“Relax. It will hurt less if you do.” He finally stopped with the wheel, but as soon as he did, I felt the whack of what must have been the crop on one breast, then the other.
“Aye-yi-yi!” I cried out.
“Do you need to be gagged while I abuse your body, sub? If you make too much noise the hotel is going to send someone up here, and I don’t think you want me to explain to them that there’s a naughty little schoolteacher in here who needs her cunt fucked relentlessly, but that she has to earn it first. Or do you?”
I shook my head wildly. I must be quiet. There was no way I wanted him to explain that to anyone!
“Then be silent.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, and he went back to swatting my breasts with the crop. Each blow stung, and I was certain my skin was bright pink by now.
Then as quickly as he’d started, he stopped.
The “cock” in my pussy slowed. He dipped a finger into my cunt and smeared my juices on the rest of my lips, coating me with my sweet nectar all the way to my clit. I felt my folds being spread apart, and to my dismay I felt the mean little pricks of the wheel rolling slowly, menacingly, across my clit.