The Training

It was dark. His brain was foggy. Was it still Friday night? Where was he? He reached his hands towards his head to try and rub out some the grogginess but they resisted. He tried again and then realized that something was stopping his movement. Again, he pulled. Something around his wrists, hard, metal. He shook his head hard trying to come completely to his senses. Blinking against the pressing darkness he tugged again. He tried moving his feet as well but those were cuffed too. Heart pounding in his chest he struggled in earnest, shaking, pulling, yelling until he was hoarse. “What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Let me go! Hello!? Is there anyone even here?” Everything you would expect a man in his situation to yell. Indignation. Outrage. Disbelief. But still the cuffs did not yield. He stopped, panting, throat ragged and sore, muscles aching from futile struggle.

As his breathing settled he thought back to last night. Or at least what he thought was last night. There was the party. His girlfriend and her friends from back home. The guys from school. Drinking. Lots of drinking. Making out. Stumbling up the stairs to find a bedroom. And then? And then what? Then he woke up here. This makes no sense. In the silence he heard the click of heels far away. Coming closer. Then a light jingle of keys and the smooth click of an old, but well oiled lock. He tried to say something but his voice was still hoarse and only a croak slipped out. A light switched on and he saw her standing by the door. A sleek black sleeveless dress clings to her breasts and waist and hips falling away in smooth swash of silk down to her ankles, a slit all the way up either side. Her black hair was smoothed back and tied tight at the nape of her neck. Her face, make up free, and flawless. Her gaze swallowed him from head to toe. It was then he realized what he had been too distracted by struggle to notice, he was completely naked.

She walked towards him. He started yelling again. Demanding to be let go, shaking and pulling at his chains. She did not seem phased at all. In fact, aside from a small twitch of a smile, she did not acknowledge his struggle or his yelling and cursing. Already worn out, he stopped and watched her and waited for some clue as to what he was doing here. She stood in front of him, inches from his face. She smelled like rich dark chocolate. Her eyes, a startling green, stared into his. Curious? Mocking? Was she still smiling? Her face was barely an inch from his. He could feel her breath against his lips. For some reason he held himself absolutely still, his fists still balled and straining against the cuffs, his breath shallow. She reached up and pressed one palm against his chest and then walked around him to his back, dragging her nails lightly across his skin. Despite everything he could feel his cock stir at her touch. Behind him she pressed against his back. The material of her dress was thin and he could feel the heat of her body. He felt her lips press against the back of his neck before she walked back around to face him.

“What is going on here?” He whispered. Again, she smiled her half smile. She looked up to something above and behind his head. He tried twisting around to see what she was looking at but he couldn’t make anything out. She continued to stare a while and then she nodded at whatever, or whoever it was she was looking at and dropped down to her knees before him in one smooth movement. By now his cock was almost fully hard and he stared down at her, not voicing his questions since it was clear by now that she had no intention of speaking to him. Or if she did, it would not be at his request. She stared back up at him, licked her lips and brought her mouth to the tip of his cock. It twitched as she pressed her mouth against its head and slowly opened. Wet. Warm. Smooth. Soft. Her tongue circled the tip and he felt his knees buckle. He was so hard now and his breathing was short and ragged, all the questions burned from his mind by that hot wet mouth on his dick. She pulled back and licked her lips again. Her lips wrapped tight around him and her tongue swirled in slow circles as she moved back and for the over just the tip of his cock. And then she started to slip down further with every stroke.

He groaned as he felt himself go deeper and deeper into her mouth. Soon, with every downward stroke, her lips were at the base of his cock and the head pressed against the back of her throat. Without even thinking his hips started rocking back and forth to match her rhythm. He stared down at her. Amazed. Confused. Hungry. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply in time with every stroke. She reached up and grabbed his hips with her hands, digging into the soft flesh of his ass with her nails. He shuddered and moaned. He was so close. This was unreal. Her mouth was unreal. God! He wished he had his hands free so he could grab her head and fuck that sweet gorgeous mouth. He wanted to… And then she stopped, slipped off his cock like a sigh and stood up. A smile. A look up at the watcher. A nod. And she turned and walked out, turning out the light as she left. It wasn’t until he heard the door click shut and the lock slide back into place that he started yelling and struggling again, his cock still slick with her spit, defiantly hard and thrusting in vain into the thick darkness that engulfed him.

Audio recording of “The Training” (click to listen)

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A Minirotica tease by Isabel
The Erotic Confessor
“Erotic redemption for the decadent penitent.”
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