As I sit in front of the hotel vanity tonight, my thoughts are scattered. We're gearing up for dinner and an evening of industry shenanigans after the conference, and I take a moment to admire you in the mirror. Dressed sharply in a blue suit, you embody strength and confidence, just as I'd always imagined.
My mind races back to yesterday, our first encounter still vivid. The sensation of your handprint lingers on my skin, igniting a flurry of excitement as I catch my own gaze in the mirror, lost in thought.
Among our colleagues greeting on first arrivals, I finally saw you in person for the first time. Gathering up all of my will not to run and jump on you, I waited for you to join the group. You met everyone, including me, and at the very first chance you could pull me aside, you leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "I can't wait to taste every inch of you," your voice low and seductive. I felt a shiver run down my spine as your words ignited a fire within me.
As we said our pleasantries to everyone, our work friends were busy chatting and catching up. You introduced me to a few I did not know, as I did for you as well. I smiled and made small talk, trying to stay present and focused on the conversation. But my mind was elsewhere, consumed by the thought of what was to come. I could feel the anticipation building, my heart racing with excitement.
Finally, you pulled me aside and led me to a secluded area along a row of loud slot machines. "I've been looking forward to this for a year," you said, your voice low and velvety with desire. I felt a shiver run down my spine, my pussy growing wet with anticipation. There was no doubt in my mind – I was ready to submit to your every whim.
Without another word, you pulled me close and kissed me deeply. Your tongue explored my mouth, tasting the sweetness of my lip gloss and the hint of mint from the gum I'd been chewing. I moaned softly, my hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as I surrendered to the intensity of the moment.
As we broke apart, you looked at me with a wicked grin. "I want to taste you now," you said, your voice low and seductive. I felt a shiver of pleasure run down my spine, my body trembling with desire. I knew that I was in for a wild and unforgettable night, and I couldn't wait to see what you had in store for me. We made our way up to the room, and I could feel the anticipation building with every step.
Once we were in the room, you commanded me to strip off my clothes. I complied immediately, eager to please you in every way. You took a moment to admire my naked body, your gaze lingering on my breasts and my wet pussy. I could feel the heat of your desire radiating off of you, and I was ready to submit to your every whim.
You ordered me to get on my hands and knees, and I obeyed without hesitation. You spanked me hard, the sound of your hand against my flesh echoing through the room. I whimpered in pleasure, my body trembling with desire. You continued to spank me, each strike sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through my body. I was on the verge of climax, but you denied me the release, ordering me to hold back.
Finally, you couldn't resist any longer. You plunged yourself deep inside of me, fucking me hard and fast. I moaned in pleasure, my body trembling with the sensation of you inside of me. You set a fast, relentless pace, driving me closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. I writhed and moaned beneath you, my body trembling with pleasure.
And just as I felt I couldn't take anymore, you pulled out, leaving me aching and empty. You flipped me over, pulling me to the edge of the bed. You entered me from behind, your grip on my hips tight, your thrusts deep and powerful. I moaned in pleasure, my body trembling with the sensation of you inside of me. You reached around, your fingers finding my clit. You teased and rubbed, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body. I felt myself on the brink of release, my body trembling with anticipation.
"Cum for me, my little bitch," you commanded, your voice thick with desire. I obeyed immediately, my body trembling with release. You continued to thrust, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. "Good girl," you murmured, your voice filled with satisfaction. I smiled, feeling a sense of contentment and fulfillment wash over me. At last, I served you to the best of my abilities, fulfilling your desires and needs.
Still lost in thoughts of yesterday, seeing you turning around snaps me out of it. Our eyes meet, in the mirror, and I am immediately captivated by your steel blue stare. Your gaze sees right into the depths of my soul. There's a kindness in your eyes, but I can also sense their sharpness, a reminder that you expect me to remember myself, to stay grounded during this special journey we are embarking on together. In those piercing eyes, I find reassurance and guidance. They hold the power to convey your desires and expectations, silently communicating the boundaries and limits that we have set. It's a connection that goes beyond mere words, a silent understanding that exists between us.
With each glance, my heart flutters, and I feel a surge of both excitement and apprehension. But in your eyes, I find comfort, knowing that you will guide me, protect me, and push me to explore the depths of pleasure and submission. I take a deep breath, grounding myself in the intensity of your gaze, ready to embark on this journey with you, knowing that your watchful eyes will be there, guiding me every step of the way.
After lunch and a long nap, we are getting ready for the evening. I'm adjusting my hair extensions, the first time you've experienced the process. Chuckling at my strange wig brush, you question its use as a real tool with its wide prongs and wide hole-slotted paddle. Perfecting my makeup with the red lipstick I love and adding a cat-eye flick of eyeliner, I complete a face I’ve worked on for an hour.
I need and ask for your help in tightening my corset I’ll wear under my dress, a specific request by you for this evening. You are very methodical in tightening each eyelet and ensuring the satin tie is even on the end to make a perfect bow.
I also want to feel breathless and desirable tonight in its restraint, especially since I'm not wearing any panties beneath my flowy short flowy dress and full-waisted nylons. The thought of you feeling the wetness from our earlier encounter seeping through the sheer fabric excites me.
I slip on knee-high boots with heels, regretting not putting them on before the corset, but you kindly zip them up for me with an extra caress of my thighs that nearly makes me gush out of my pantyhose right that moment.
Ready to go and glancing at our reflection in the mirror, I see my public self, full of sass and glory, with the very guarded and quietly intimidating Sir by my side. It's strange as we step into our public roles for the evening, distancing ourselves from our usual dynamic as Master and sweet sub.
As we sat down at the elegant table, the ambiance of the restaurant enveloped us, setting the stage for what was to come. A sense of anticipation lingered in the air, a silent agreement passing between us as we embarked on this bold step forward.
With a subtle nod to the waiter, a small lemon lime Gatorade bottle you had discreetly brought was placed on the table, hidden in plain sight. Your request for a wine glass signaled the beginning of our private ritual, a moment of fulfillment and submission unfolding before me.
Watching intently as the Gatorade was poured into the glass, I felt a rush of emotions – anticipation, reverence, and a deep sense of connection. In the midst of the restaurant's refined atmosphere, a world of hidden desires and unspoken truths came to life between us.
The clinking of silverware and the murmur of other diners faded into the background as our eyes met, conveying a silent understanding and a shared intimacy that transcended the ordinary. In that moment, as I dutifully sipped from the glass and met your gaze, I felt a profound sense of belonging and acceptance.
The dinner unfolded with an undercurrent of tension and excitement, each glance and gesture between us imbued with meaning and significance. In the midst of the elegant setting, our private exchange of power and desire unfolded, deepening our connection in ways words could never convey.
Following dinner, the evening’s conference gathering. We've decided to appear as colleagues but stick together as we both understand the gravity of sharing a bond such as ours among the community. Enroute to the meet up, I notice a family restroom, a single room that can be locked and private, and as a little devil emoji pops into my head, I make a mental note of it for later.
I immediately embrace my snarky, real world persona, and your glances through my snarky and sarcastic conversations don't seem to approve. All the while I am only doing everything I can to keep my grubby paws off you and not beg to go back to the room. Finally settling into a seating area and finding a moment of relaxation, I can no longer resist the desire to touch you. I discreetly message you, suggesting a quickie in the bathroom noted earlier.
Your response surprises me, as you express your desire to join me with a quick response “I want to face fuck you, you dirty cock sucking slut.” I try to hide my shock, and hope not to ruin my perfectly applied red lipstick by smearing it all over my face. I playfully counter with a request for you to fuck my cunt instead. Then I experienced for the first time exactly what I feared staring into your eyes just a couple hours ago. Your narrowed steel eyes tell me you are not pleased with my negotiation, but you nod in agreement.
Taking the lead, I politely excuse myself from the conversation to those around us, grazing your shoulder with my hand as I walk away, deliberately calling you "Sir," as a good Southern gal would do.
The restroom is empty, with an oversized chair perfect for lounging. You join me, closing and locking the door behind us. Without wasting a second, you lift my skirt and rip a hole in my pantyhose, leaving me exposed. I immediately know you want me from behind but I beg to sit on your lap in the chair instead. With my thighs wrapped around your hips, the teasing sensation of my wetness against your cock drives me wild. Your hands grip abruptly around the small of the corset waist, you spear your cock into me, putting an end to me toying with it.
The defiant tone of my text still lingers in my mind, but the tightness of the corset and the breathlessness it brings intensify the experience. I'm on the verge of climax, but you tell me not to. I struggle to hold back my moans, making the urge to come even stronger. My pussy tightens around your cock, a clear sign that I'm close. "Ask," you demand sharply, knowing it's impossible for me to articulate a response in this state.
I beg amidst my shallow breaths of my corseted restraint, but you still deny me. Instead, you order me to get off your cock and kneel between your legs. I really want to comply, realizing you still want to blow your load on my face as you previously requested. My contractions are just too intense, and I cling to the release of my orgasm instead, arching my back in ecstasy as you hold tight as to not let me fall back.
The moment quickly passes, and I have the sobering feeling that I've gone too far. You push me off your lap displeased with my bratty behavior, and I lose my balance, barely standing solid on my feet. I see your hand wind back and I know it’s coming to sting the already raw handprint on my ass and it burns. We straighten up in silence and leave the restroom and I'm confident you won't do anything else among our work colleagues.
We make our way back to the bar to meet up with our colleagues. I can feel your hand on the small of my back, a gentle reminder of your presence and your displeasure. I try to brush it off and focus on the conversations around me, but I can't shake the feeling of guilt and shame that has settled over me.
With so many people around, it's easy to navigate away and avoid everything except your stone-eyed stares. I can avoid you for a while but I know I'm at your mercy, with no money or pockets for the hotel key, so I'm aware that I'll be tied to your side to get back into the room at some point tonight. I can feel the tension building between us. I know that I have disappointed you with my bratty behavior, and I am determined to make it up to you. I focus on the conversation, trying to be the best version of myself that I can be. But despite my efforts, I can feel your disapproval lingering in the air.
Finally, as the night comes to an end and our colleagues start to say their goodbyes, I know that I need to face the consequences of my actions. I make my way over to you, my head down and my heart heavy.
As we make our way back to the hotel room, I can feel the tension between us, the unspoken understanding that I will be punished for my actions. I am nervous and apprehensive, but also incredibly turned on by the promise of pain and pleasure that awaits me.
We enter the room, and you head straight for the bottle of whiskey I brought for you from home. You toss your blue jacket over the vanity chair, and I stand by the entryway, watching you. Anxious and full of remorse, a wavering "Sir?" slips out of my mouth. You tend to your whiskey, not turning to face me, and calmly command, "Take it off." Instantly, I struggle to release myself from the corset's restraints, untying your perfect bow, slipping off the dress, and stepping toward you in my ripped pantyhose, leaving the dress and corset on the floor.
"I'm sorry, Sir," I say, my voice soft and submissive. "I know that I disappointed you tonight, and I promise to make it up to you."
You look at me for a long moment, your eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and affection. I can feel the weight of your gaze, the intensity of your emotions. And then, with a swift motion, you pull me into your arms, holding me close and whispering in my ear, "I forgive you, my little slut. But you will be punished for your bratty behavior."
I nod, my heart racing with anticipation and fear. I know that I deserve whatever punishment you have in store for me, and I am ready to submit to your will.
As we make our way back to the hotel room, I can feel the tension between us, the unspoken understanding that I will be punished for my actions. I am nervous and apprehensive, but also incredibly turned on by the promise of pain and pleasure that awaits me.
In one swift motion, your hand is on my neck, and you spit at me, "You will not defy me like that again, you little brat." Then just as you instruct, I rush to grab my collar, returning on my hands and knees, the collar in my mouth as we've enacted this scenario countless times from miles apart. You snatch it out of my teeth, not doing this in person before, and I didn't realize I needed to lift my hair myself for you to buckle it yourself. Impatient, you come down to face me, nose to nose, and your once cool blue eyes are now stormy. You harshly command, "Lift up your hair, bitch," and with a sharp slap to my face, the size of your hand takes me back, encompassing my jawline to my lip. I immediately comply, feeling the shock of the sting more intense than I had imagined it would be. It hurts, and I can feel the heat of your perfect handprint, but I know I deserve it nonetheless. Collar buckled and hands down back at my sides, I kneel before you again on all fours, and you attach the leash.
You start to drag me to the bed, my hands and knees struggling to keep up with your quick pace. Sitting on the bed, you loosen your tie and roll up your sleeves methodically. I feel like a petulant child, knowing that a spanking is imminent. This humiliating punishment for acting out like a bratty girl arouses me. You indicate for me to take my place bent over your lap. To my surprise, the first thing I feel in bending over your lap is your hard cock pressed against my stomach. I've been a defiant bitch, and now I'm about to plead and cry for mercy while you take sadistic pleasure in punishing me.
You strike me with a force that catches me off guard, leaving a new handprint on the other side of my ass. The leash is taut in your hand, preventing me from moving my head away to cringe and cry out in pain. The next strike lands on the flat of my thigh, and I feel the raw pain linger as your hand moves up to confirm the wetness between my legs. "Ask me to continue your punishment," you whisper forcefully with your velvety voice, the very voice I’ve obeyed for months in loyalty and my heart breaks knowing I disappointed you. In this broken state of mind, it's impossible to articulate the response you want, but I beg amidst my shallow breaths. Still, you deny me, demanding that I ask louder. I take a deep breath, my voice strained from the tightness of the corset I have just removed, and repeat my plea, emphasizing my submission by adding "Master" at the end. The spanking continues relentlessly, and I writhe in pain, the hot tears streaming down my face falling into an organized pattern on the wild Las Vegas-style hotel carpet below me.
Annoyed by the restricted access to my bare ass caused by my pantyhose, you use your earlier pussy access tear to fully rip them apart, exposing my full cheeks to your liking. I instinctively cover my ass, but you quickly reprimand me, ordering me to move my hands away. The spanking intensifies, and I whimper as my overwhelming sobs encourage my hands to cover my burning cheeks once more. Because of this second attempt to help keep myself from your pain, you respond with “Your continued defiance has only caused you further punishment.” You nudge me off your lap, instructing me to lean over the edge of the bed. I quickly take my place, the cold metal of the leash draping down my stomach and pressing in the valley between my breasts. You lean over my back, your touch soothingly as you stroke my neck, calming my sobs. I can feel the heat of your body pressing against mine, and the hardness of your erection nudging closer to my now soaking wet pussy. It's a vulnerable and erotic moment, with me half-clothed in shredded pantyhose while you remain fully dressed behind me.
Without warning, my hands are pulled behind my back, the cold click of cuffs signaling my restraint. I had asked that they only be used for punishment and hoped to never experience them. They feel icy, heavy, and way too tight, adding to the intensity of the moment. You command me to spread my legs, and as I comply, then I’m given the task to count. Before I comprehend the command, you sharply spank my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through my entire body. My eyes widen in response, and you quickly remind me of my requested task. "One," I say, corrected immediately by your demanding tone. "One, Master," I correct myself, the submissive title slipping from my lips. You inform me we will continue to start over again to get it right from the start.
The spanking continues, counting respectfully each strike until we reach ten. With each strike, the agony intensifies, and I squirm in discomfort. But just as I'm about to lose myself in the pain, you kneel behind me, positioning yourself between my legs. Your leadership is unwavering as you softly ask, "Do you think you have learned your lesson?" My response is immediate, assertive. "Yes, Sir," I reply, understanding the expectations you have set for me and hoping for relief.
And then, your tongue plunges into my wet slit, and all coherent thought vanishes. Pleasure and relief wash over me in a dizzying wave, and I let out a grateful moan, acknowledging the pleasure you bring me. Your tongue dances skillfully around my aroused clit, pushing me closer to the edge. The raw pain of the spankings is overridden by the fluttering of pleasure, and I feel the muscles in my back tense up with anticipation.
My head and hands start to tingle, and I slowly move into that place of subspace. A blissful state that I crave from your usually calm commands. However, not fully there just yet and unable to contain myself, I have to beg, "Please let me cum, Sir?" But your response is unexpected, laced with the edge of disappointment. "I thought you learned your lesson," you remark, the disappointment evident in your voice. "My pleasure comes before yours, yet you have already found release without my permission. Asking for it again when I haven't even cum once?" My mind reels as I have never experienced this kind of mind fuck and unable to process why amid my deepening trance-like state.
Confusion and fear ripple through me as I try to process your words. How could I have let my desires override the rules we have set? In the midst of all the sensations I am experiencing at the moment, I am deeply turned on by your ability to remain in unwavering control, never raising your voice. You remind me of my total obedience, not allowing me to defy you.
You decide to ask, "Do you think you've learned your lesson?" Softly, your velvet voice floods my ears and I relax for a moment in its comfort. I am able to respond with a confident "Yes, Sir," knowing it's what you expect when I fully understand my boundaries. You press your tongue against my wet slit once again, and I roll my eyes back in pleasure, letting out a lustful moan. But then, you deny my request to orgasm, reminding me of my place as your servant. I'm left hanging, wanting desperately to cum, more of your experienced tongue, but you have something else in mind.
You stand up, commanding me not to move, and disappear to the vanity counter. Soon, you return to my side, leaning in and gently shifting my face to one side on the mattress, ensuring that our gazes meet. As you adjust my face, I taste the metallic tang of blood, realizing that my lip is cracked from the sharp slap you delivered earlier. I lick my lip, feeling the sting as I take in the sight of the hairbrush in your hand.
With deliberate intention, you slowly kiss my forehead, allowing me a moment to absorb the sight of the hairbrush, and the thought of the dime-sized holes it possesses. My mind races, imagining the distinct imprints they will leave on my burning and welted ass, causing a mixture of anticipation and apprehension to course through me.
"When I choose to punish you, you will accept it and be grateful for it. You will never, ever run from me again," you assert, your words breaking through my resistance. "Yes, Sir, I'm so..." I try to begin an apology, but before I can finish, the brush back strikes the side of my face, causing a sharp scream to escape my lips. I stare blankly at you with the one eye with the urge to hold my face but still bound by the cuffs behind my back. This is the moment you see it. This is my first real “HOLY SHIT” moment, my moment of realization, the jolt of pain followed by total acceptance of your dominance, the feeling you needed me to experience to fully understand the depths of your total control over me and my unwavering need to submit to you..
You are quick after our mutual realization to place a soft kiss on my cheek to soothe the sting and give me comfort after seeing my understanding. You immediately release my hands from the sharp confines of the cuffs. As I try to regain my balance, you are instantly by my side, offering a glass of water. I gulp it down, not even realizing how much I needed it but you do. You always seem to know what I need in this heightened state.
Then you lead me to the bathroom, to care for my lip. With a swift motion, you lift me up onto the counter and dab my cheek and lip with a cold wet towel. Lost in the bliss of your care, you remind me of one more task to perform. I withhold the sound that nearly escapes me, contemplating your request in this intensely raw state. All I can do is stare into your eyes and then spread my legs wide hoping for more of you first. Your cock is hard and ready, and I can feel the heat of your desire radiating off of you.
You plunge your cock deep inside me, fucking me hard and fast. I moan in pleasure, my body trembling with the force of your thrusts. You command me to look into your eyes and repeat, "You are my Master and I will obey you, orgasms are yours not mine." I repeat the mantra over and over, my voice a breathless whisper. As you fuck me, you reach down and tease my clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body.
Finally, you can't resist any longer. You pull out of me and force me to my knees. You face fuck me hard, your cock pistoning in and out of my mouth. I lower my head to your proud cock, my tongue teasing along the seam. I encircle your swollen shaft, flicking my tongue gently over the head before taking you completely in. Your animalistic groan is a reward as I skillfully maneuver my head up and down, finding a rhythm that doesn't require the assistance of your hands. The sound of your appreciation fuels my motivation to intensify my mouth's grip.
As I feel you tighten up, feeling you close, I pick up the pace, preparing myself for the load you are about to release into my throat. I can feel your pre-cum on my tongue, and I'm eager to taste your cum. But before I can, you pull out of my mouth and come all over my face. I miss catching it all, and you make me lick your mess up off the bathroom floor. I'm humiliated, but also incredibly turned on by the degradation.
Your hands lace gently into my hair and I clean you up, licking you up and down until you are clean and I hear those magical words I crave, "Good Girl," uttered in your velvety sing-song voice. I submit to your every whim, knowing that this is what you want from me, what you need from me.
We make our way back to the bed, our bodies spent and satisfied. Our bodies are tangled together, our limbs intertwined as we find solace in each other's embrace. The rest of the world fades away as we lose ourselves in the comfort of our connection. As I am laying beside you, my body still tingling from the intense evening we shared, I feel a sense of contentment and fulfillment wash over me. The bond we share feels stronger than ever, as if the trials and tribulations of the night have only brought us closer together.
I turn to you, my eyes meeting yours in the dimly lit room, and I can see the affection and adoration reflected in your gaze. "Sir," I whisper softly, reaching out to caress your cheek, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I feel a deep sense of gratitude for the trust and dynamic we have built between us, knowing that I am truly home in your arms.
With a gentle touch, you pull me closer, wrapping me in your warmth and protection. The weight of the day fades away as we drift off to sleep, our breathing syncing in a peaceful rhythm. In this moment, there is no need for words or actions, only the quiet reassurance of our connection.
And as I close my eyes, a sense of peace settles over me, knowing that no matter what challenges may come our way, we will face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and submission that defines us. In your arms, I find my sanctuary, my safe haven, my home. I know that I am yours, completely and utterly, forever and always. Bound by the love and devotion that we share, I fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, knowing that I am home, in your arms.
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