I lay in bed, staring at the stone white ceiling.
Had this really just happened?
He'd tied me, beaten me, then fucked me. I'd given up my body for his pleasure, and I'd loved every second of it. But that wasn't the point. Lying alone, I felt like yesterday's newspaper - read, then discarded when no longer needed.
My feelings for Conrad were genuine. My desire to please him was real. The more he harnessed my submissive desires, the more unwavering my desire to satisfy him became. Now though, it seemed the blind trust I'd placed in him had been wildly misplaced.
Perhaps I'd gotten carried away. He was so far out of my league in terms of looks and wealth, and clearly had a hell of a lot of experience in the lifestyle. He must have been used to having far more glamorous women bow to his every whim. Guiding me, as a complete newbie, must've felt like a chore.
Still lying in bed, I formulated a plan. I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't as soft, and to express my gratitude for the time he'd taken to guide me. I would surprise him with breakfast in bed. To date, no one alive had been able to resist my rather excellent eggs benedict.
As the sliver of light creeping through the curtains grew, I rolled my fingertips over my mound. I felt sore, but in a good way. He kept my arousal in check in such an expert manner. No man had ever brought to the point of no return then held me there for so long. It just made the savage way he fucked me even more mind blowing. Last night, I'd come hard enough to satisfy a thousand people.
When eight O' clock rolled around, I sprung from the bed. It was time to put my plan into action. Phase one of my mission was simple - shower and spruce myself up. Surely a simple enough task.
However, nothing could prepare me for what I found in the spare room's en-suite. The cupboards were stocked like the cosmetics aisle at a fucking department store, with every conceivable toiletry or beauty product in stock. It was like the spare room was a ready to roll out crash pad for whichever fuck toy Conrad invited over.
I stepped into the shower, and even though the warm water made my skin glow, I shivered at the thought of what I'd become. I pictured a succession of beautiful women, all captivated by Conrad's charm, then discarded to the box room as soon as they were surplus to requirements. Why did the ones you'd fallen hardest for always hurt you the most?
Unperturbed though, I stepped out of the shower. I was determined to show Conrad I was more than just a weekend distraction. I wanted to prove myself to him, to show I wasn't like the other girls he toyed with. Fortunately, phase two of my operation contained my secret weapon - my sexiest black underwear.
In an out of character moment from my normally prudish nature, I'd bought them on the pretence of surprising a partner while at college. The panties were teasingly translucent and crotchless, while the bra was strapless and low cut. However, Conrad was the first guy I'd ever felt confident enough with to show them off to. I'd always been so shy about my body, but he had made me feel so much more confident in my own skin. He was the first guy I'd been with who seemed to appreciate me for who I was.
Once changed, I did a little twirl in front of the mirror and grinned, thinking of Conrad's reaction when he saw me. The third phase of my operation was the last - sneak into the kitchen to prepare a killer breakfast, then pounce on Conrad while he was still in bed. With any luck, my second toe curling orgasm in just a few hours would be shortly forthcoming.
However, my heart sank as soon as I entered the hallway.
Voices coming from the living room?
My mission to surprise Conrad had failed. I knew he had his finger on the pulse, but why the hell was he up this early on a Saturday, and more to the point, who was with him?
Intrigued, I crept down the hallway, and the voices became clearer.
He's with another woman!?
He'd moved on pretty fucking quickly. At least I knew why I'd been jettisoned to the spare room. I needed to be well out the way before the real fun for the evening arrived. Had he tied her up and fucked her too? There was no mistaking the femininity of the voice, even with a woolly and Scottish accent.
It would destroy me if they were cuddled up together on the sofa. I swear, my heart would shatter my heart into a thousand pieces. I had to see though. I needed some closure -- to find out what the hell was really going on.
With every step towards the lounge, my heart rate multiplied, anticipating the moment I'd see what I dreaded so much. As I got closer though, the voices became clearer, and they didn't sound like those of a besotted couple. In fact, it sounded like an argument.
"I'm telling you," the female, Scottish voice said. "You can't rush. It will only end badly in the long run."
"Just because things are moving quickly, doesn't mean they're being rushed," Conrad replied, clearly irate. "Besides, it's not as if you have any evidence to judge that."
Baffled, I stepped into the lounge. The picture painted in my head was instantly erased. Pacing around the room, Conrad was speaking to the mystery, bodyless voice via speaker phone.
"I never said I had any evidence," the Scottish voice said calmly. "I'm just going on past experience."
Conrad looked up and saw me. A smile spread across his face as he looked me over, and my insides glowed with confidence.
"Well, thank you for your advice, Erin," he said. "It's always a pleasure to speak to you."
"You too, dear," she replied. "Stay safe, and remember what I said."
Conrad rang off. Without a second's warning, I pounced, leaping on top of him and nuzzling into his chest.
"Well, isn't this a nice surprise, Miss James," he said, combing his hands through my hair and kissing me on the shoulder."
"I thought you might like it, Sir," I grinned looking up at him. "Who was that?"
"Oh that," he paused. "Just an old acquaintance. She gave me a lot of advice early in my business career, and we still stay in touch now."
"Very interesting, Sir," I replied arily, slowly tracing my fingers up his thigh towards his crotch.
Conrad laughed, before pecking my temple again. "If I didn't know any better, Miss James, I'd say you were trying to soften me up."
My hand found his cock, and I felt his body tense as I rubbed it through his trousers. "Well, I wanted to surprise you, Sir. Why are you up so early?"
"I had to get some work done last night, unfortunately, Miss James, and we didn't finish what we needed to either. That's the drawback of running your own business. Things can't just wait till Monday morning sometimes."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Sir," I replied with veiled sarcasm, feeling him harden beneath my touch. "Would you like me to get you some breakfast?"
He put a hand under my chin and lifted my head to kiss me on the lips. "That's very sweet of you to offer, Miss James, but I've already eaten I'm afraid. Do feel free to get yourself anything you would like, though."
"Oh, it's ok, Sir. I don't normally eat breakfast" I grabbed his fully stiffened shaft, and squeezed. "There's one thing down here I am quite hungry for though."
His eyebrows raised and I knew I'd caught him off guard. "You don't eat breakfast, Miss James. Is that so?"
"I never have time, so I don't usually bother, Sir," I replied, hand still on his shaft.
"What if I told you that it would please me if you ate some breakfast?"
"Then I would have something, Sir."
Immediately, his cock twitched. "Good girl. Go off to the kitchen and fetch yourself something now, please."
I went to the kitchen and quickly buttered some toast. The reaction of his cock wasn't lost on me. Control was a drug to him, and he desired it in far more than a sexual sense.
"Good girl," he said as I returned to the living room. "I'm very pleased you decided to get something."
"Thank you, Sir," I replied, finishing my toast. "I like that I could please you in that way." I put my plate down and found his crotch again. "But, like I said before, this is what I'm really hungry for."
"Well, that is quite a surprise," he smirked. "I must say, I thought you were far too innocent for that kind of language, Miss James."
I giggled as I rubbed harder on his shaft. "It's all because of you, Sir. You're the one who gets me ridiculously worked up."
"I'm certainly very glad I can do that to you, Miss James." With a firm grip, he took my wrist and pulled my hand away from his member. "Listen, I have to make another call. I'm sure I can find a way to keep you occupied though. Would you like that?"
"Of course I would, Sir," I replied, looking up at him. "I've loved everything you've done to me so far."
"Good girl. Go back to my bedroom and open the wardrobe. You'll find a duffel bag inside. Bring it to me, please."
I smiled, pecking him on the cheek. "Of course, Sir."
No one entering the bedroom now would have any idea of our escapades last night. With the duvet neatly folded, and any 'extra curricular' items now well out of sight, the room would've belonged to a normal, vanilla couple in the eyes of any stranger.
I knew the truth though, and also where to find it. I stood before the large, mahogany wardrobe, knowing that it led to another world. A world free from judgement; one where I could embrace my true nature and indulge in my fantasies.
Opening it, I took a few seconds to fully absorb its contents. A variety of crops, paddles and other whips lined the inside of one door, while on the other hung a plethora of ropes, chains and other restraints. The wardrobe itself contained a multitude of drawers, each surely littered with the implements that lined my darkest fantasies.
I picked up the crop we had used last night and playfully swished it through the air. A ripple of goosebumps rose across my arm as I remembered Conrad's warning.
I'm going to make you suffer for your pleasure tonight, Miss James.
Feeling my folds moisten, I saw the drawstring bag I needed and headed back to the living room.
"Good girl," Conrad said as I re-entered, now perched on the sofa with his laptop on top of him. "I'd bet you'd love to see what's inside, wouldn't you?"
