The Training tst-6 Page 2

  I could do this, I told myself as I walked to the bench. We could do this. This was nothing like the last time. He’d explained his negligence in the lack of aftercare last time. And there would be only eight strokes tonight.

  I’d make damn sure there weren’t any more.

  But as bad as last time had been, it wasn’t the thought of pain that made my steps slow. It was disappointment in myself. Disappointment in my disobedience, but even more so, guilt that my actions forced him to punish me on our first weekend of play. The very first hour of our first weekend.

  I settled my body into the smooth groove of the bench, wanting it to be over so we could continue on to more enjoyable pursuits.

  He didn’t make me wait. Almost immediately after I dropped into position, he started spanking me with his hand.

  Warm-up.

  He swiftly smacked my backside with slaps that were harder than his erotic spankings.

  “How very disappointed I am to be doing this so soon,” he said.

  Yes. That was what hurt the most.

  “I had you count in my office.” He picked something up from beside the bench. “But since I told you not to speak or vocalize, I’ll have to count this time.”

  The sting of the leather strap came down across my backside.

  “One,” he said, voice strong and firm.

  Again it came.

  “Two.”

  Ow.

  By five, silent tears ran down my face. I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to keep from saying anything.

  “Three more,” he said, rubbing where he struck.

  “Six,” he said after the next one. I could tell he wasn’t putting as much strength behind the strokes.

  Two more. Only two more and we could move on.

  “Seven.”

  And finally, “Eight.”

  I heard him breathing hard behind me, and I blinked furiously to get the tears out of my eyes. He set the strap down, and I listened to his footsteps as he walked away.

  Moments later, his hands came back, rubbing something cool and wet over me. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  I let out my breath in a shuddering sigh of relief. “Yes, Master.”

  His hands continued caressing as he talked. “We discussed this. I hate having to punish you, but I can’t let broken commands slide. You know that.”

  Yes, I did. I’d try harder next time.

  He moved to the side of the bench and leaned down so his face was level with mine. Ever so gently, he kissed first one cheek and then the other. My heart pounded frantically as his lips drew closer to mine. And then, finally, he kissed my mouth—slow and soft and long.

  I sighed.

  He pulled back, and his eyes danced with a wicked gleam. “Come, my lovely.” He held his hand out. “I want to taste that sweet pussy.”

  Chapter Two

  —NATHANIEL—

  She took my hand and I squeezed it once before letting go. She didn’t stumble as she stepped off the bench and moved to the table.

  “Paragraph two,” I said.

  I’d thought a chastisement might be necessary this weekend—our first weekend back into our roles. We’d lived the last few weeks as lovers and, while we both enjoyed our relationship, there was something missing for both of us. Yet this pivotal weekend would also be the most difficult.

  Chastising her would never be my favorite act, but I felt relieved. I now knew I could do it. There had never been a question in my mind she could handle it.

  I watched her and felt myself slip deeper into the needed mind frame. I hadn’t done this for several months, but was surprised at how comfortable I felt reestablishing myself. As always, she had been right—we were ready.

  I returned my focus to Abigail. She was positioned on her back, arms to her sides, knees bent and spread wide. An exact description of paragraph two.

  “How pleased I am you remembered,” I said. While she didn’t move or in any way acknowledge my words, I knew my praise would encourage her.

  My eyes traveled over her body. I took in the long line of her limbs, the trusting way she offered herself to me. Sheer perfection.

  I placed my hands on her hip bones and traced her torso up to her arms, capturing her hands and bringing them above her head. Our eyes met briefly. “Close your eyes,” I told her.

  I bent her arms at the elbows and secured her to the table. I trailed my fingers across her stomach and hip bones, careful of her backside, and bound her ankles to the table. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh. When finished, I stepped back.

  Fuck.

  What the sight of her did to me . . .

  “Take a minute and feel, Abigail,” I said. “Feel how exposed you are.” Her nipples pebbled at my words. Excellent. “How vulnerable.”

  I let the weight of what I said sink in, knowing just how defenseless she would feel in her current position.

  “I can do anything I want to you,” I said, still not touching her. Still letting my words alone stroke and excite her. “And I plan to do so much.”

  I took a pillow and slipped it under her butt. Her backside would still be sore. Plus this position gave me better access. I thought briefly about reminding her she couldn’t climax until I granted permission, but decided against it. She needed to learn. I felt certain she would remember, and on the off chance she didn’t, it would be part of her training. Although thirteen strokes on top of the eight I just gave her would end all play.

  “So beautiful,” I murmured.

  I started at her neck and worked my way down. Running my hands over the delicate bones of her shoulders, my thumbs grazed the edge of the collar near the hollow of her throat. I stroked her body gently for a few minutes, allowing her to grow accustomed to her bound and defenseless state. Allowing her time to focus on my touch and me. Gradually, my hands grew rougher, but she remained silent.

  I positioned myself between her legs and drew a finger across her slick folds. She startled slightly, but otherwise remained still and silent.

  “Mmmmm,” I said, palming her sex, my thumb against her clit and my middle finger barely inside. “Serving me like this excites you. Doesn’t it, my naughty girl?” I pushed deeper. “Being bound turns you on.” My thumb stroked her. “Is it knowing you belong to me or knowing I will do anything to you I want?” I slipped a second finger inside. “Maybe both?” I asked in a whisper.

  Both, I knew. Definitely both.

  I removed my fingers and dropped my head to place a tender kiss on her bare skin. She shivered under me. I spread her gently before running my tongue over her slit. Again she shivered, but she still remained quiet. I licked her again, enjoying her sweet taste, feeling the faint quiver of her skin as she worked to remain motionless and silent for me. My tongue pushed deeper inside, and I dragged the tip up to her clit, ending with a little swirl. On the next pass, I added my teeth, grazing her just a bit.

  I stroked her thighs as I licked and nibbled, tickling her skin with featherlight touches. Then I pulled myself to her, nibbling harder, stretching out her pleasure and bringing her precariously close to the edge.

  I knew exactly when she started working to hold off her climax—her breathing became ragged and her legs started to shake. I blew once, sending a long, steady stream of warm air across her swollen clit. She tensed as she held her release at bay.

  I didn’t want her to fail in her efforts, and I knew if I touched her sensitive flesh again, she would be unable to contain her climax. I pulled back, stroking from her upper thighs down to her lower legs. Bringing her back from the ledge. Bringing her down.

  She exhaled deeply, and her body relaxed.

  “You did well, Abigail,” I said. “I’m very pleased.”

  A small smile flitted across her face.

  Yes, my lovely. Find your joy in my pleasure.

  She had been bound in one position long enough. I untied her arms first. Starting with her wrists and working down to her shoulders, I gently caressed away any potential kinks,
placing her arms at her sides when I finished. Next I dropped down to her legs and repeated my actions on her lower body, untying her ankles and tenderly massaging her calves. When I finished, I placed them so they hung off the end of the table, her knees still spread.

  I left her side, walking to the cabinet on the far side of the room. I opened a door, placed a vibrator in my pocket, and took out the rabbit fur flogger. I walked back to the table, my bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floor. I stepped heavier than normal, wanting her to hear and know where I was.

  Her eyes were still closed.

  Excellent.

  “Guess what I have,” I said, even though I knew she wouldn’t answer. Her body remained relaxed. Very gently, I dragged the strands of the flogger across her chest. “A flogger.” I snaked the ends farther down her body, letting them tickle her stomach. “Tell me, Abigail, would you like for me to flog you?”

  Her breath hitched.

  “I’m being, perhaps, a bit unkind,” I said. “Commanding you to remain silent while I use a new toy.” I flicked the strands of the flogger over her belly. “But you’ll do as I ask, won’t you?” I questioned. “You’ll do anything I want you to.” That would be the state I’d eventually get her to—where she would trust me completely with her body. When she would give me all she had and more. She wasn’t there yet, though. She might think she was, but I knew better—it would take time.

  I took my time, once again, and slowly worked her body. Using the flogger not only to pleasure her, but also to remind her I was in control. I would use her, yes, but I would never harm her. I would show her she could trust me. She was safe.

  I switched my stroke. The flogger landed softly across her chest, first one way and then the other, the tips brushing her sensitive nipples. I brought the soft strands lower down her body, gradually picking up speed. The rabbit fur was soft. I had planned to work up to the suede, but that had been before the chastisement. I wanted to work her slowly and softly, and feared the suede would be too much for her after the spanking.

  I moved the flogger to my left hand and ran the fingers of my right between her legs, lightly grazing her clit, then dipping slightly into her obvious wetness.

  Perfect.

  I switched the flogger back to my right hand and struck her upper thigh. The tips of the flogger strands ran across her entrance. I lifted my hand to strike again.

  “Does it tickle, Abigail?” I asked. “Enough friction to make you ache, but too soft to bring relief?”

  I continued for a few more minutes, changing my position and alternating where the tips landed. I immediately noticed when her body became too tense. “Relax, Abigail,” I said, brushing the fur across her belly. “I won’t be using anything harder on you tonight and, at this point in our play, I would tell you before I did.”

  She exhaled, and the tension left her body.

  “That’s it,” I said, using the flogger once more across her chest. “Just feel.” I dragged the strands down her body and flicked them against her clit. “Trust me.”

  I took the vibrator from my pocket and turned it on, letting her hear it before I used it on her. “Can you handle more?” I asked, knowing she could.

  With one hand, I continued using the flogger and, with the other, I slowly pushed the vibrator into her. I knew if I pushed too hard and fast, I’d make her climax, so I pressed slowly, allowing her to grow accustomed to the low buzz.

  My cock grew harder within the confines of my jeans, but I pushed my needs and desires to the back of my mind and made myself focus on her. Tonight was about her, getting her accustomed to our new arrangement, working to regain her trust. Introducing her to a new type of control, one I had never pushed too far before.

  I slowly worked the vibrator in and out of her while continuing to tease with the flogger. The fur strands landed on her breasts at the same time I pushed the vibrator deeper. I started a rhythm and then changed it a bit to keep her guessing.

  When I noticed her struggle to keep orgasm at bay, I removed the vibrator and set it and the flogger on the table. I walked to her side and gently stroked her face. “Open your eyes, my lovely.”

  She blinked a few times before focusing on me.

  The trust and love I saw in her eyes nearly took my breath, but I collected myself. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

  I leaned over and brushed her lips with mine. “You’re doing great,” I said against them before pulling back. “You may leave your eyes open.”

  I moved to her side and unzipped my jeans. Standing close enough for her to hear, but out of her peripheral vision, so she couldn’t see, I pushed my jeans down and swallowed hard when my erection sprang free.

  Fuck.

  I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out. I stood still for a few minutes, trying to decide how to proceed, and absent-mindedly stroked my cock a few times.

  I stepped out of my jeans and moved to the table. She lay still, blinking every so often, breathing steadily. My eyes wandered over her—from her pebbled, hard nipples, down to the soft skin of her belly I could taste from memory—she would have a faint salty flavor by now. It took all of my control not to rush the table and bury myself deep within her.

  But how could I expect her to learn control if I couldn’t show I had mastered it myself?

  I tweaked one of her nipples. “The clamps tomorrow, I think,” I said, giving her other nipple a hard squeeze. She sucked in a deep breath. “But for now,” I said, “get on your hands and knees and put that beautiful ass in the air for me.”

  She moved at once, rolling to her side and scrambling to her hands and knees.

  “Keep your stance wide,” I instructed.

  When she had positioned herself, I stepped back and slowly lowered the table. My padded table was custom-made, with an automatic lowering and raising mechanism. Once I had it lowered at the height I wanted, I moved to stand behind her. “Scoot back until I tell you to stop.”

  She backed toward me, and I placed a hand on her backside. “Far enough,” I said.

  I ran my hands across her ass. “What do you think, Abigail?” I asked. “Have I tormented you long enough?” I pushed my hips against her so she could feel me. “Should I let you have my cock?”

  She dropped her upper body so she rested on her elbows and waited.

  “Mmmmmmm,” I hummed, enjoying the sight of her spread and waiting for me. Spread and ready. I gave her ass a light slap. By this time, pain from her spanking would have subsided slightly. The slap I gave served only to excite her further.

  I placed my hands on either side of her hips and slowly eased my way inside.

  Fuck.

  I’d taken her in the shower that morning. Had taken her twice the night before. Why did it always feel so fucking good, every single time? My head fell back as I pushed deeper.

  So good. So right.

  Fuck.

  Focus.

  I pulled out slightly and teased her clit with my fingertips. “You’ve done so well tonight, I might let you come.” I pulled out farther. “Or I might make you wait until tomorrow.”

  And with that, I started a slow, teasing rhythm. Pulling almost all the way out. Waiting for what seemed an inordinate amount of time. Easing my way back inside.

  I slowed even further. Enjoying the sensation of being within her. Making sure she felt every inch of me. Feeling her stretch as I filled her once again.

  Then, finally, I started moving faster. But only slightly. With each push, I swirled my finger around her clit, purposely avoiding any direct contact.

  “Move with me,” I commanded. On my next thrust, she pushed back, drawing me deeper.

  Yes.

  I kept our pace steady. Her breasts fit easily in my hands as I moved within her. I pinched a nipple, imagining the clamps I would put on her the next day—her head thrown back in ecstasy as I brought her to the edge of pleasure again.

  I flicked one and rolled the hard tip
between my fingers. She pushed back in to me harder, showing me without words or sounds how she felt. My hands ran down her sides, and under my fingertips, her breathing became ragged. Shorter. Neither one of us could hold out much longer.

  I increased my rhythm, pounding strong and steady as she breathed even harder.

  “I love being inside you,” I said, digging my fingers into her hips in a vain effort to get closer. Deeper. Anything. “The way your body stretches.” My words came in pants as I moved faster. “How it accepts me.” My hips rocked and I shifted deeper. “Fuck.”

  My words dissolved into grunts, and I wasn’t sure what I said. The world disappeared. Time slowed. Only we existed.

  Her body trembled under me.

  “Should I let you come?” I teased. Her only answer was another thrust back into me. “Or should I be really cruel?” I stopped talking for a second as she took me deeper. “Make you wait until tomorrow? Keep you aching all night?”

  I moved faster, my thrusts long and hard. She stilled; her body was taut and tense from the strain of withholding her climax. My balls ached with the need to release.

  I leaned over her back and whispered, “Come hard for me, baby.” My finger swirled around her clit and my voice dropped even lower. “Let me hear you.” I grazed her clit with the tip of my finger.

  Her scream echoed in the quiet room.

  Fuck.

  I thrust into her again.

  “Holy. Fucking. Hell,” she yelled as her body clamped around me. Her orgasm triggered my own, and I came just as hard as she did.

  Completely spent, her body dropped to the table, limp. I leaned forward and rested on my elbows, placing soft kisses along the small of her back as I struggled to bring my breathing back to normal. She didn’t move.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Y-yes.” She took a deep breath. “Master.”

  I moved up her body, caressing and kissing as I went, climbing up the table to get closer before finally moving off of her. “Sit up when you’re ready,” I said. “Feel free to talk.”

  She lay still for a few minutes more, so I took my time—rubbing her muscles, nibbling and brushing her skin lightly with my lips. “You did so well,” I said into the nape of her neck. “I’m so very pleased.”