Training Amy (BDSM Erotica)

by Anne O'Connell

  Amy bit her lip thoughtfully. In that moment she felt a great deal of pity for Eric’s ex. “That sucks.”

  “Yeah.” The coffee maker beeped and he grabbed two cups out of the cupboard. “But really, enough about that. I need to move forward with my life and I really don’t want her to ruin our evening.”

  “I’m sorry I brought it up, I just thought maybe you’d feel better if you talked about it,” she admitted, feeling a pang of guilt.

  “Nah, it’s okay. Have a look around if you want. Just don’t try to get into any locked rooms.”

  From where she sat she could see into a family room. There was a big screen TV in there. She gave him a wry smile and ventured from the kitchen into the family room. From there she saw the sliding glass doors leading to a large deck. Beyond that there was an outdoor pool and a small building that looked like…

  “Hot tub is out in the small building out there,” he said coming up behind her. He ran his hands over her shoulders.

  She turned to him, “So how do I get upstairs?”

  He grinned. Their faces were mere inches apart. “Back to the main entry, take a left, then a right.”

  “Give me a tour,” she said playfully.

  “Fair enough.” Taking her by the hand he led her to the staircase, but not before she noticed they were passing other rooms. “What are all the rooms down here?”

  “Study-slash-library and the room with the pool table and video game systems in it. I guess you could call it the game room.” He continued up the stairs.

  She hurried after him. After looking over the huge main bathroom and guest rooms, he showed her the master suite. It was four times the size of her room at home and had a walk in closet and three piece bath. Shaking her head she just knew she was out of her league here.

  “Come on. Back down for coffee. Besides, we didn’t get to see my favorite room.”

  “There’s more?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Come on.”

  She followed him back downstairs and they had a cup of coffee while he told her how after he and Emily split, his sister had used his house to build her resume when she got out of school. “She had a professional photographer come in and take pictures and everything for her portfolio,” he said.

  “Did she get more jobs from it?”

  Eric nodded. “Some big ones in this neighborhood actually, and a few others across town. She has her own business. Makes pretty decent money, too. It’s something she can do even with the kids.”

  Smiling she said, “You have nieces and nephews?”

  “One nephew, two nieces,” he corrected.

  “You didn’t strike me as an uncle or a guy who owned a house,” she admitted.

  “Ah, so I was…?”

  “The single rebel, estranged from his family who lived in a loft,” she admitted.

  He began laughing. “That’s funny.”

  She felt her cheeks turn red. “You must think I’m some stupid naïve schoolgirl and you’d be right.”

  “No. I don’t think that at all. Come here.” He patted his lap.

  She gave him a wary look.

  “Serious, come here. I’m not going to put you over my knee yet, I promise.”

  Nervously she got up and went over to him, sitting on his lap with a sigh. He put his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “For the rest of the night I want you completely in the moment. I don’t want you to worry about anyone or anything. I want you to relax and just let me take care of everything. Can you do that for me?”

  A nervous flutter started in the pit of her stomach. “Yes, Sir.”

  His lips found her neck and he gently kissed her. A rush of warmth flooded her and her panties felt wet. She couldn’t close her legs together though, not the way she was positioned. She felt exposed. Horny and exposed. His hands moved to her hips as he kissed up her neck moving upward to kiss her lips. She opened her mouth letting his tongue find its way into her, plunging deeply, entwining with hers. She kissed him back, deeply, passionately, every pore in her body aching for his exploration.

  His lips and tongue found their way down her neck again and she arched her back, her breasts shoving toward him. She wanted him to touch them, caress them and lick them, but he didn’t. His hands moved to her thighs and gently caressed them but never ventured any higher than mid-thigh. She gasped and thought any moment she would beg him to touch her. Then suddenly his exploration stopped.

  “Stand up and take off all your clothes.”

  The order took her by surprise. She bit her lip and looked around.

  “Take off your clothes,” he repeated in a firm tone.

  She took of her shoes and stockings first, then slowly slipped off her shirt. Then she removed her bra, letting it fall to the floor. His gaze watched her every move with a quiet anticipation and appreciation. She wiggled out of her jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Finally, she slid her panties off her hips and down to her ankles and gingerly stepped out of them. His eyes lingered between her legs and he licked his lips and looked up at her. She wanted to cover herself but knew he didn’t want her to.

  “Now, hands behind your back and legs spread so I can see you better.”

  She did as instructed.

  He got up and walked around her, closely inspecting her pussy without touching her. She felt herself flush red. Then he moved behind her and took both her wrists into one hand, restraining her. He gently prodded her forward, “We’re going to go down to the playroom for a while,” he whispered in a voice that sounded almost like a primal growl.

  She let him lead her through the family room to a staircase that led to a finished basement filled with equipment like the stuff she’d seen in the back room at the bookstore, including a cage. Her nipples were hard, her entire body tingling. When he stopped and wrapped soft restraint bands around her wrists she didn’t protest. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and let him. The feeling of being bound and under his control made her feel safe. It also turned her on. She felt wetness drip from her pussy.

  “Now I’m going to bathe you. Come on,” he said in that same calm, domineering tone he’d used in the club when he told her they were leaving.

  Again, she didn’t argue and simply allowed him to lead her to the shower. After adjusting the temperature he took down the shower massage and ran it over her shoulders and breasts, down her stomach and between her thighs. Not once did he touch her, but instead allowed the water to caress and clean her soft, delicate skin. When he seemed satisfied she was clean he gently dabbed her dry with a towel. The towel between her legs made her whimper, but only because she wanted him to touch her. She yearned for it and even pushed her pelvis forward in hopes he’d at least know she wanted him.

  “Not yet. Patience, beautiful,” he cooed at her. Leading her to an exam looking table he undid her wrists from behind her back and took them over her head. “Keep your arms above your head and lay on the table.”

  She did as she was told, leaning back on the cold vinyl. Once in position he bound her hands above her head and put her feet in the stirrups of the exam table, using soft cuffs to bind her there and another set to pull her knees apart, spreading her sex before him.

  She felt exposed and vulnerable. He could see every inch of her. The anticipation of not knowing what he was going to do excited her in ways she never imagined.

  He ran his tongue down her inner thigh. She gasped and cried out, noticing he was watching her, pleased by her reaction. His tongue moved closer to her labia. Instinctively she tried to close her legs, but the restraints wouldn’t allow it.

  When his tongue slid skillfully over her pussy lips she jumped and cried out again, shoving her hips forward.

  He moved back to her inner thighs, ignoring her pussy altogether. She couldn’t stand it.

  “It’s time for a protocol lesson,” he said, pulling back completely. “When there is something that scares you or hurts too much and you want to stop, you say red. Is that clear?”

&
nbsp; “Yes, Sir,” she answered, still breathless.

  “What do you say?”

  “Red, Sir.”

  “Good. Now where should I put my tongue?” He looked down at her body as if it was a plate of chocolates and he was choosing a piece. “I think I’ll nibble on your stomach.”

  He kissed her stomach and licked it gently, looking up at her breasts knowingly. He knew she wanted him to suck on her breasts and clit and he wasn’t going to and she knew it. He seemed to be having too much fun torturing her. She spent the next few minutes squirming beneath him, trying to draw attention to the areas where she wanted his attention with no success. Finally he smiled down at her and laughed. “If you want something, my little sub, you may ask for it.”

  She whimpered as his hand ran the length of her inner thigh and stopped short of her pussy. She couldn’t ask him or tell him how she wanted to be touched. It was too embarrassing. Humiliating even. His hands ran over her stomach, along her sides, barely grazing the sides of her breasts. Her nipples went hard. She felt her pussy dripping with lust.

  “Please Sir, touch my breasts,” she cried out in a pitiful voice.

  He growled. “Very good,” he praised. With that his hands gently moved to her breasts and he lightly caressed them and ran a forefinger around each nipple slowly and carefully. She writhed in ecstasy, wanting his tongue on her breasts. As if he read her mind his mouth closed around a nipple and he sucked it roughly then moved to the other one and did the same thing. With his thumb and forefinger he squeezed her nipples and pulled slightly, causing her to cry out in pain. While it hurt, it sent a pleasing sensation through her wet sex and she shoved her hips upward.

  “Please Sir, touch my pussy.”

  He chuckled, his hips only inches from her, the evidence of his arousal straining against the fabric of his pants. She could see the outline of his big cock and she wanted it between her legs.

  He followed her gaze. “Oh no. You’re not getting that. Not yet. Maybe not at all. I haven’t decided yet. I don’t know if I want to give you full pussy attention tonight.” With that he pulled apart her labia and exposed her clit and the dripping wet hole below it and looked at her long and hard.

  She knew he did it because it made her visibly uncomfortable. Not being able to stand it any longer she cried out in pure desperation, “Please, Master, please finger fuck me and suck my clit. Please.”

  A pleased look of surprise passed over his face. “Well now I don’t think I can deny that. From Sir to Master in less than ten minutes, impressive.” Slowly, he positioned himself between her legs, gently grazing her labia with his tongue. Then he dipped his tongue into her wet, wanting hole, pulled it out and slid it up to her swollen clit, circling it.

  Moaning, Amy shoved her hips forward. He paused long enough to insert two fingers into her pussy, and then put his tongue back on her clit, working it in tight circles. His fingers moved inside her as if searching for something. When they hit the spot, she jumped and moaned and he continued rubbing that spot until her mind went numb with desire and pleasure.

  She’d masturbated with a dildo but it didn’t feel this good and neither of the men she’d been with ever did anything like this. His fingers moved expertly inside her and his tongue worked her clit. Restrained, she was helpless to stop him. Before she knew it, she was coming and her body spasmed and shuddered, bucking against him. She didn’t want him to stop, but he did.

  “Enough of that for now. Did you like that?”

  She nodded, still gasping. “Yes Master.”

  “Mmm, I like the sound of Master. Good girl. Now there’s the matter of your spanking for being insolent in the car earlier,” he said.

  She moaned, knowing she was going to be restrained and spanked and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Except say red, her mind reminded her. But she wouldn’t. She wanted him to spank her. She’d been imagining it, wanting it, anticipating it. He removed the restraints tethering her to the table and helped her down, and then he took her to a spanking bench and bent her over it, re-tethering her wrists and ankles to the bench so she couldn’t move. Her ass was in the air, exposed. He ran his hand over her ass cheeks.

  “Ten good swats should do it, I think,” he said. With that his palm came down on her left ass cheek with a loud smack. He alternated smacks on each cheek, each swat more painful than the last until finally, he reached ten and her ass stung. Then he softly caressed her.

  Amy relaxed against the restraints and didn’t move a muscle. That is until he pulled apart her ass cheeks and pushed a finger into her tight hole. She jumped and yelped at the sharp pain and clenched the hole closed.

  He pulled his finger out. “I see we’ve found something my sweet little sub is uncomfortable with. We’ll work on that.”

  Removing the restraints from her wrists and ankles he helped her up. Her entire body was tense and she realized she was shaking. He pulled her into his arms, gently rubbing her back and shoulders. “Relax my little sub. How about we put you in the cage for a while so you can rest.”

  He didn’t wait for her to answer. He swung the cage door open and firmly pushed her in. She didn’t protest. Instead, she climbed into the cage and curled up on the soft bedding lining the floor of it. He closed the door, watched her for a few minutes, and then went upstairs.

  Amy was able to slow her breathing and relax a little. She looked around the room. It didn’t look scary. Not how she imagined a real dungeon would look, and it was warm. Not to mention Eric had made this cage more comfortable, probably because she wasn’t being punished. If he wanted to punish her all he had to do was remove the bedding. She closed her eyes.

  She didn't know how long she'd been sleeping. Bleary eyed she sat up halfway, realizing she was still in the cage. She thought she heard voices from above, beyond the door, then she heard music and it dawned on her the noise was coming from the television.

  The door opened and Eric descended the stairs, clearly noticing she was awake. His face was emotionless. She didn't like that. It made her uncomfortable not knowing what he was going to say or do. She craved his approval, or even that lustful look in his eye. The warmth of his smile.

  Wiping some sleep from his eyes he leaned against the wall and looked at her as if deciding what to do with her. "You do look sexy in a cage," he finally said with a smile. "So the question is do we call it a night or do we play some more... I haven't decided."

  She gulped, noting he hadn't asked her a question or offered her any input. Thirsty, she leaned against the bars of the cage helpless to his whims.

  Like always, Eric seemed to notice her discomfort and disappeared around the corner to a part of the room Amy hadn't seen yet, returning with a paper cup with water in it. He handed it to her through the bars.

  Taking it greedily, she drank deeply, feeling the cold wetness slide down her throat. Eric held out his hand, taking the cup from her and throwing it into a trash can that seemed to blend into the gray wall.

  "Lie on your back and pull your knees to your chest," he finally ordered.

  Doing as instructed she felt her face flush because the position exposed her fully for him. Eric came back around the cage with a dildo on a rod and pushed it through the bars and into her still moist hole. She whimpered.

  "Don't move," he instructed. His forearm flexed as he worked the dildo in and out of her in long, slow strokes, pulling the head all the way out, then plunging it all the way in. Her clit began to ache and swell, but he didn’t give her the attention she craved, instead he took his time, teasing her to where she almost couldn’t stand it anymore.

  She cried out in frustration. Why wouldn’t he just pull her out of the cage already? She thought about asking and wondered if she should chance it. “Master, please let me out of the cage.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “I want to please you,” she whispered, gasping slightly as the dildo filled her again.

  “Ah, but I am content to watch you helpless in the c
age taking every inch of this rubber cock into your tight pussy as it pleases me.” He laughed slightly and shook his head. “How very manipulative of you, Amy. And very bad.”

  He pulled the pole and dildo from the cage and carefully put them in the utility sink. Walking back over to the cage he rubbed his hands together, again wearing a look that suggested he was debating what to do with her. With a lifted eyebrow he went over to the wall of whips and took down a flogger. From the corner he produced what Amy had learned was called a spreader bar. Tucking the whip in the waistband of his black pants he took a few other items she couldn’t see and situated all the acquired items next to a bench, the approached the cage.

  The cage door swung open. “Get out,” he ordered.

  She crawled out of the cage and stood up.

  “Turn around, hands behind your back,” he said in that same detached tone.

  Doing as instructed, she felt him tug at the leather cuffs around her wrists and attach them together.

  He pulled her wrists apart as if checking to make sure she couldn’t get free. Then with a gentle yet firm grasp his large hand closed over her upper arm and he directed her to the bench. Eric’s hand loosened its grip and he reached over and grabbed the spreader bar, pushing her feet apart and attaching the bar to her ankles.

  She understood now why it was called a spreader bar; she couldn’t close her legs even if she tried. Taking a deep breath she waited anxiously, wondering what Eric would do next. It wasn’t a long wait.

  “Open your mouth.”

  Opening her mouth to ask why, she found it immediately filled with a ball gag which he secured carefully behind her head.

  He came around to the front of her so he could speak to her directly. “Since you can’t speak and can’t use a safe word, we’re going to talk about using some signs to indicate everything’s okay, or to stop. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “To indicate you’re okay, I want you to make the okay sign like this.” He held up his hand, showing her. “For stop, two fingers like this. Do you understand?”