Training Day

Scarlet checked her makeup in her car before she popped her trunk and got out, straightening her business suit as she walked to the back.  She lifted a medium sized duffel bag from the trunk and carried it into the unassuming gray building.  A man waited behind a desk just inside the heavy door, and he smiled welcomingly as she walked in.  “Membership card?” he asked, even though he most certainly knew her on sight.  He ran the card through his scanner, handed it back, and took her cash. 

      “I have one guest tonight,” she told him, and gave him the man’s name. 

      “Thank you, should I let him know where to find you?” 

      “I’ll just be in the lounge,” she said, gesturing to the arrangement of couches and comfortable chairs nearby.  He wished her a pleasant evening, and she took a seat, bag at her feet, and pulled a book from her purse.  She’d just gotten to a climactic scene when her guest entered.  She ignored him, focusing on the book as he paid at the front desk and approached.  Well instructed beforehand, he knelt at her feet and waited, silent.

      After a few turns of the pages, Scarlet finally put the book down and regarded the man at her feet.  He was a couple of years older than her, taller, but not unusually tall, and lean.  “Hello James,” she said. 

      “Hello, ma’am.”

      “Take that bag.”  She gestured to the bag at her feet and got up.  Around the corner was a bank of lockers, and she tucked her purse away in one.  “Now, give me your wallet, keys, and phone.”  He hesitated before reaching into his pockets and handing them over.  It could be said that it was for his own protection, of course, but it also put him entirely in her power.  Without her key, he had no way to leave or even call for help.  It was a mental game, and a good one.  She fastened the door with a lock from the bag James held, and dropped the key securely into an inner pocket of her jacket.  He remained silent, head down, and she smiled; it was good to see that he was willing to follow directions. 

      He trailed after her as she headed into the main part of the building, and hesitated as he saw the furnishings.  Large wooden crosses stood in several corners of the warehouse, and various other contraptions.  Chains hung from the ceiling at several points, with large carabiners dangling at the ends just above head height.  In the center of the room, a woman was tied over a spanking bench, her mouth open wide around a ball gag.  Her partner held a long, thin cane, trailing it over her skin and bringing it down on her back, ass, and legs with a crack that made her scream and James jump. 

      “Don’t worry, that’s not for you,” Scarlet said.  He relaxed a little.  “At least not yet,” she added, and watched him try to judge her seriousness.  She laughed and gestured him through a doorway.  “This will be a little more private for us to start out,” she said.  She watched James take in the room.  When he’d contacted her on a dating site two months ago and asked some frank and innocent questions about BDSM, she’d been happy to answer.  Now, he was about to get his first taste.  “Did you wear your panties?”

      Panties weren’t really Scarlet’s thing, but she knew that the forced feminization turned him on.  He nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Good.  Show me.”

      James blanched, and reached for his zipper, halting and watching her ask if he expected her to tell him it was just a joke.  When she simply waited, he slowly pulled his pants down to his knees. 

      “Good boy,” she said.  His erection was straining the red, lacy fabric and his face was almost the same bright shade.  She smiled slowly, and nodded to him.  He pulled them back up quickly, as if there were something he could hide from her.  “You may take your shirt off, now.”  When he had obeyed, she told him to place his arms behind his back.  She pulled a roll of plastic wrap out of the bag that was now at his feet, and mummified his arms securely from his upper arms all the way down to his palms, pushed flat together.  “Can you free yourself?”

      James struggled for a moment before shaking his head, no.  He was shaking and goose bumps textured his chest, but she knew it wasn’t the cold that was causing either.  She put the plastic away and ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, admiring him openly until he relaxed a little.  When she judged that the tension in his body was due more to arousal than to fear, she reached back into the bag. 

      This time Scarlet pulled out a longish nylon strap with a buckle on it, and knelt, fastening it around his thighs just above his knees.  When she yanked on the strap to pull it tight, he gasped and swayed.  “Okay?” she asked. 

      “Yes.”  His breath was fast his voice sounded hoarse.  She ran her nails across his shoulder gently, and he closed his eyes and sighed. 

      “What is your safe word?” she asked.  She knew it, of course.  She had taught him about the concept, gave him the basic word to use, and explained how and when and why he should use it. 

      “Red,” he said. 

      “Good boy.  Now, I am going to hurt you, and you are going to tell me to stop.  Are you ready?”  He nodded, and she reached for him, twisting his nipples hard.

      “Red,” he said, practically spitting the word at her.  She stopped immediately, and even rubbed the pain out for a moment, knowing that he could not. 

      “If you desire play to cease, use your safe word.  Did you see how quickly I stopped there?”

      “Yes, ma’am.  I understand.”

      “Good.”  She pressed him forward slowly to accommodate his shuffling gait.  As he approached a padded table, she unfastened his pants again, pulling them down until the strap stopped them.  She turned him around, bending him forward over the soft surface and ran her hands gently over his ass.  “Stay,” she said, and retrieved her bag to put her tools in easy reach.  She started with spanking, swatting each of his cheeks with her hand, first gently, then firmer until he squirmed away from the blows.  She placed one hand on her upper back, pushing him down, and continued until her hand stung and his ass was pink. 

      Scarlet retrieved a wooden spoon from her bag and ran it back and forth over the panties.  “Are you turned on right now?”  she asked.

      “Yes,” he whispered.

      “You like this?”

      “Yes.”

      The sight of his reddened cheeks made her smile.  She stepped forward, pressing herself against his ass as she leaned over his back.  “Does it turn you on be tied up and exposed and spanked for all the world to see?”  He was not really all so exposed.  The club was exclusive and private, and on a Friday night it was generally very quiet.  A head or two had poked in to see what the noise was, but no one had stayed to watch, and James was entirely unaware of their presence at all.

      “Yes,” he whispered again.

      Scarlet pushed back abruptly, bringing the wooden spoon down in a stinging stroke.  He cried out and struggled against her.  “Hold still,” she barked, and he didn’t move when the next stroke fell.  “Oh, good boy.”  She ran her hands over his reddened ass, and he gasped at the shock.  A moment later, she resumed with the spoon.  He howled and yelled, and held himself still.  “Very good, very good,” she murmured when she was done, rubbing her hands over the reddened skin and feeling the heat of it on her palms. 

      “I have scissors in my bag,” she said.  “I am going to use them to cut your arms free.  I won’t cut you.  Are you ready?”  He had told her before that he was afraid of knives in play, and she didn’t want to take any chances with terrifying him accidentally.  He nodded, and she released his arms, turned him around, and helped him onto the table, where she had him lie back and get comfortable.  She draped his shirt over his torso to keep him warm in the cool air, and rested a hand on his arm, a subtle reassurance and reminder of her presence.  When his breathing was slow and calm, she asked if he wanted to stop, or continue.

      “Continue,” he said quietly. 

      Scarlet pulled the shirt away and dropped it on the floor.  His erection was subsiding, she noticed.  She dug her nails almost casually into his arm, and he gasped in pleasure.  His cock pulsed.  She laughed, and walked around to his feet, soon leaving him in nothing but his thick white socks and his red thong.  “Did you see the refrigerator in the lounge?” she asked.

      “Um, yes.”  He seemed confused at the sudden change in subject. 

      “Good.  It’s full of water bottles.  Bring me one.” 

      James’ face flushed when he realized that she meant to send him exactly as he was dressed.  Though the dungeon was not busy, the sounds of several other couples at play filtered through the doorway. 

      “Go now, or I will punish you,” she warned.  She lifted an eyebrow, and tipped her head, silently inviting him to use his safe word.  His cock was already straining at the flimsy fabric again.  He took one step backward, then another, then turned and walked out the door toward the lounge.  She smiled, pleased.  This was only their first session together, but she was anticipating many more.  She took a deep breath, stilling her own racing pulse, and waited.  When he returned, his blush stretched from his hairline down his chest.  She took the water and set it down without cracking the lid, smiling at him.  “Good boy,” she said.  “Now kneel.”

      James knelt in front of her, and she spent a moment petting his head, enjoying the pulse of his cock as he enjoyed the attention and, probably, relived his shameful walk.  No one in the dungeon would have batted an eye, of course, but he was unused to this kind of display. 

      “I would like to slap you, now.  How do you feel about that,” she asked, using a less seductive tone to invite a genuine response.  She didn’t want to push him too far.

      “Okay,” he said.

      “Look at me.”  He met her eyes and she held them for a moment, waiting until his tension faded away a little.  Then she brought her hand hard across his face without wind up or warning.  He cried out a little as he started to the side, his cheek crimson.  She grabbed his chin and brought his eyes back to hers.  “This turns you on, doesn’t it,” she taunted.

      “Yes.”

      Crack.  Her hand connected with his other cheek, and he reeled.  “Yes ma’am,” she said.

      “Yes ma’am.”

      She reached down and grabbed his cock through the panties, increasing pressure gradually and watching his eyes for signs that it was too much.  They crinkled in pain, and he bit his lip.  She let go of him abruptly, and he gasped. 

      “You want to touch your filthy cock, don’t you?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Take it out.  I can’t be bothered,” she said.  He pulled his cock free and began to stroke himself vigorously as she paced around him, watching.  His breath came in harsh gasps.

      “Please can I cum, ma’am?” he asked, his body quivering. 

      “Wait,” she said.  He stopped, and she slapped him.  “I didn’t say stop, I said wait.”  He resumed his stroking, more slowly now, and a moan escaped him.  She waited a moment longer until it looked like he would shake himself apart, smiling and touching herself conspicuously over her suit.  Finally, she paced behind him, yanked his head back by the hair, and said “cum now.”  With a harsh gasp and a very loud moan, he did.

      She petted his head for several moments as he panted for breath on his knees.  “You did very well,” she murmured.  “Clean up the floor and get dressed.”  They would spend the next hour or so in the lounge, him sitting at her feet while she petted his hair and talked with her friends until he was grounded enough to drive again.  She smiled at him as he pulled his clothes back into order.  This wouldn’t be the last time, either.

Angel Face