Ewan grins at me, all dimples and sexy mischief. “I knew you’d say that. I quite like the idea of making a go of Faith myself, starting here.”
Ah, this sounds promising. Or ominous. I drain my cup and pass the mug back to him. He places it on the bedside table with his own then turns to face me.
“You took your punishment well, for a newbie. Now that you’ve had a rest, you deserve a little fun. I want your first real taste of this lifestyle to be rewarding as well as educative.”
I gaze into his dimpled, seductive smile, my pussy already starting to dampen despite my lingering soreness. Will this involve more spanking?
“Don’t look so nervous. I have something a bit different in mind for you this evening. It’ll be intense, and you may not like it at first.”
I can come up with no ready answer. I simply stare at him. Already though, I know that whatever he suggests I will be doing. I can’t say no, I have no wish to refuse him. Anything.
“I intend to make use of your tight little arse. I’ve been admiring it for a while, and now… I think it’s time to explore a little. Push back a few more barriers.”
Again, I offer no comment, though my mind is racing at the wicked prospect. What does he mean? Exactly?
“A butt plug, I think. Just a small one to start with.” He rolls off the bed and strolls across to a chest of drawers. He crouches to open the bottom one, the deepest, I note. “I have a lot of interesting toys in here. Feel free to have a rummage some time.” He tosses the words over his shoulder at me as he makes his selection. “We’ll be using all this kit at some stage, but you might have some ideas of your own. I’m not promising to carry out your requests, but you can always ask. You never know.”
He returns to the bed. I draw the duvet up in front of me, the gesture defensive if rather belated. It seems to amuse Ewan.
“Ah, the coy virgin. I like that. Occasionally.”
“I am a virgin, at least…”
He regards me from the foot of the bed. “I see. I did wonder. Thank you for mentioning that. We’ll take this slow then. And use plenty of lube.”
“Will I be tied up again?”
“Would you prefer that?” His voice is lowered, the tone gentle.
“Yes, I think I might.” If he presses me on this, if he demands an explanation I might falter. But already I’m starting to recognise the illusion of powerlessness created by restraints, the sense that I am helpless, not in control, and the heady arousal this causes for me. I will be in his hands, quite literally. And that thought is sexy as hell.
“Drop the sheet then, and kneel on the bed.”
I do as he tells me. Ewan tosses the butt plug in front of me, along with a tube of lubricant. I notice the plug looks to be an unusual shape, though of course my frame of reference is limited. There is what I assume to be a finger grip at one end, but that appears to be set off centre. I wonder about the protocol of asking for further information, some explanation of how the items will be used. Or do I just wait and see, and trust Ewan to know what he’s doing?
Ewan goes back to his drawer and retrieves a length of black rope, maybe three feet in length. He returns to his position at the end of the bed, and with an imperious swirl of his upraised finger instructs me to turn around.
I obey again.
“Place your hands behind you, please, in the small of your back.”
I do it. Ewan wraps the rope around my wrists and fastens it with a secure knot. He slips his fingers under the rope, testing it.
“Tell me if you feel any discomfort, any tingling at all.”
“Yes, sir.” Apart from restraining my movements, the sensation of having my hands tied sends me instantly into a submissive mind set. The impact is emotional,intellectual, as well as physical. I’m content, relaxed, ready. I bow my head, awaiting further instruction.
Ewan squeezes my shoulder. “Good girl. Now I want you to lean forward, please. Turn your head and lay your cheek on the mattress, and lift your bottom up as high as you can for me. Just shuffle around until you find a comfortable position.”
Comfortable? With my arse in the air, my pussy on display, no doubt shamelessly plump and wet and glowing pink? He hasn’t laid a hand on me yet, not really, and already my cunt is spasming, my arousal starting to spiral out of my control. If I ever did have any hold on my responses. I’m starting to seriously doubt that. The moment Ewan sees the engorged state of my greedy clit, he’ll be left with no illusions about what a slut I am.
Bring it on.
“Could you spread your legs, please? I need your bum raised, and your legs wide open.”
With a silent moan of pure, unfurling lust I do as I’m instructed. The sensation of cool air against my hot, slick folds heightens my sense of delicious exposure. Ewan does not move. He watches, examines, leisurely studies my upturned bottom and disgracefully moist pussy, now displayed for his perusal. He take his time as I shift and squirm on the bed, caught between churning desire and abject humiliation. Which was exactly his intention, I have no doubt.
Ewan knows his craft, and he is coming to know me too well.
