By the time the strongest waves fade, I’m limp over the sawhorse, my body twitching now and then when Master rubs my clit or taps my sore ass. I’m lightheaded from being upside down so long and stumble when my restraints are removed. But my Master is there, holding me against his firm chest, whispering more praise into my hair, and everything is great.
He hands me a glass of water, which I gulp down greedily, then takes me to the bathroom to clean me up. Once he’s sure I’m steady on my feet, he gives me a moment of partial privacy.
My thighs scream in protest as I move around the bathroom, but that pain is paired with a satisfied feeling of being punished and forgiven. Master doesn’t hold grudges the way my parents did. He was firm but fair, and once it was over, he forgave me and even rewarded me with an orgasm, which was more than I deserved. I wish I could have more time with him, but I know sending me away isn’t his choice. I heard the truth in his voice when he said he wanted to keep me, and that’s good enough. It has to be.
Once I’m done in the bathroom, I go searching for my Master, expecting to find him in the kitchen. My palms turn clammy when he calls me from the part of the apartment filled with torture devices. He forgave me, didn’t he? Is he going to keep punishing me?
Then I remember he doesn’t need a reason. My body belongs to him, and my pain pleases him. I want to please him, so I steel myself as I make my way between the benches, tables, cages, and other equipment I can’t even name.
Master’s eyes brighten when I join him, and his lips twitch as if he’s holding back a smile. His voice is rough as he orders me to sit on a chair, but I have a feeling at least part of that gruff exterior is fake. Maybe he wants to be kind but can’t, because he has to act like a strict trainer. It would make sense, especially if Dolls usually give him a hard time when he tries to help.
Wincing, I settle on the simple wooden chair, my ass protesting the hard surface, but I know better than to ask for something softer to sit on. The chair’s backrest is unusually tall, high enough for me to rest my head. It quickly becomes clear why when Master, having secured my wrists and ankles, tightens straps across my shoulders, neck and forehead, completely immobilizing me. My nerves spike as he drags a machine closer, positioning it level with my mouth before attaching a dildo.
“Open up, Doll,” he orders, and when I obey, the tip of the dildo slips between my lips. “Alright, that will be the zero point,” the trainer murmurs as he fiddles with the machine’s remote controller. “We’re going to start slow and shallow…”
I gasp as the machine whirs to life, pushing the dildo deeper into my mouth before pulling it back, over and over. It doesn’t go too deep, just an inch or two before returning to its original position between my lips, never leaving my mouth completely. Saliva fills my mouth as the silicone glides over my tongue, and I struggle to swallow around it.
Master pats my hair. “Relax, Doll, you’ll be here a while. We’ll start slow, but I’ll gradually increase the depth and intensity so the back of your tongue gets used to being touched. You just sit back, relax and focus on controlling your gag reflex. It helps to have a relaxed lower jaw and to stick your tongue out.”
“Uh-huh,” I manage around the toy in my mouth. Sticking my tongue out does make more space in my mouth, but it also lets some of the drool pooling in my mouth drip onto my chest, so I hastily pull it back.
He wipes my chin with his thumb and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s natural and fucking sexy. Just focus on learning, okay? I’ll be around. I won’t leave you.” With that, he moves out of my line of sight, making me wish what he said were true.
Chapter 20
Grace
At first, I hear Master moving around the kitchen. He stops by to increase the machine’s depth before disappearing again, this time into the gym corner of the apartment. My stomach protests as the dildo slides deeper into my mouth, but I focus instead on Master’s heavy footsteps on the treadmill.
After his run, he deepens the thrusts again and returns to the gym. This time, I hear the clink of weights and his grunts as he works out, and I wish I could watch him. I bet his muscles, straining under the weight of the dumbbells, are a sight to behold. Instead, I stare at the tall cage across from me, my eyes watering as I fight the urge to gag. Over and over, the fake cock forces its way deep inside my mouth.
My tongue learns every ridge and vein of the toy’s surface. My stomach twists as the dildo slides to the back of my tongue, saliva thick in my mouth as I fight the urge to vomit. I force myself to keep my mouth relaxed and my tongue out, which helps a little.
My lower body throbs with pain, but I’m strapped so tightly I can’t shift even an inch. The annoying voice in my head tells me I should use this time to plan an escape, but I refuse to listen. Instead, I let myself slip into a comfortable place where I don’t have to think at all. As I let go of thought, the pain fades, and I lose track of time.
A soft touch to my hair stirs me, but not enough to pull me out of that comfortable haze. “Such a good Doll,” Master murmurs, petting my hair. Sweat glistens deliciously on his skin, and I wish I could lick it off. I also wish it was his cock in my mouth instead of the stupid silicone one. “You’re doing great. Hold on for me now, okay?”
The dildo pushes even deeper into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. Straining against the restraints, I gag and cough, but there’s no escape from the persistent thrusting. Desperate for relief, I find Master’s eyes, barely seeing him through my tears. He watches me struggle, his gaze fixed on me like I’m the only thing that exists. “You can do this, Doll. Just relax. There. I’m so proud of you.”
Proud of me? More tears spring from my eyes, the ones of relief joining the ones of pain and nausea. The urge to vomit is overwhelming, but I manage it by focusing on my breathing and his eyes. He’s proud of me. No one has ever told me that.
Just when I think I’m going to lose the battle and vomit, the dildo stops and finally leaves my mouth. Heaving deep breaths, I tug on the restraints again, desperate to put my head between my knees to settle the nausea.
“Good job,” the trainer praises as he releases me. Crouched in front of the chair, he holds me as I calm down, his muscular body supporting most of my weight. “You’ve done well, little one. Next time, I’ll have you on your hands and knees for this. The angle will be better.”
I’m not thrilled about a next time for this training, but his praise easily outweighs my discomfort. He’s proud of me. Me! Honestly, I’m proud of myself, too. I handled it without panicking, and I do think I can take Master’s cock much deeper into my mouth without gagging now, so the training definitely has merit. I just hope he won’t test me right away, because my stomach is still too unsettled. I would do it, happily, but I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. Which isn’t the point anyway, so—
“What are you thinking about?”
“Giving you a blowjob, Master,” I reply bashfully, worried I’m being too direct.
Chuckling, he pulls me onto wobbly feet. “That’s commendable, Doll, but not right now. We both need a shower. Then we’ll see what we will put into that pretty mouth of yours.”
Still caught in his laugh, I follow him to the bathroom, where he washes me again, even my hair. I’m probably smiling like an idiot as he works the conditioner into my hair, but I can’t help it. Satisfied. Proud of myself. Those aren’t emotions I’m used to, and they’re marvelous, so I bask in them while I can.
He murmurs something in Russian and cups my cheek, his thumb tracing my smile. For a wild moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. I want him to. I want it so much, but he only shakes his head and lets go, and I miss his touch instantly.
“My turn, Doll,” he says as he steps under the stream of water.
