Control

We were heading to a hotel together in the country. For two uninterrupted nights of sexual satisfaction in the kinkiest ways possible. Of course my knowledge of the plans stopped at the name of the hotel and what time I was to arrive. From there, 100% control was to be given up to my Master.

As Thursday grew closer, I struggled to contain my excitement. It didn't help that I had been banned from masturbating by my Master. From the Thursday previously until he touched me when we met, I wasn't to touch my pussy. I was to keep my hands away from my clit and wasn't even allowed to caress my breasts. My mind was on overdrive. I felt myself tightening my thighs as much as possible to feel the slightest of pressures but to no avail. Nothing was helping. Also not helping was the messages Sir was sending me every day and night. Reminding me that I was his to use; reminding me what we had done previously. Describing every last detail of the last time we had met as if I needed reminding. But it was different hearing it from his perspective.

Different hearing what he was thinking when I was lay on the floor, my tits exposed. Lay there panting on the floor from the force at which I'd been thrown there by him by the fistful of hair he had grabbed. He was displeased with me from a few days before we met. I had cum without his permission. Not deliberately, but that's no excuse I know. I should have known better than that. I disobeyed my Master and for that I accepted the punishment he dealt me. I felt my pussy flooding my knickers as I remembered his harsh punishment...and again as I remembered how he told me how much he enjoyed caning my ass.

Shaking my head I came back to reality, sat in front of the television on the Wednesday night. Only one more sleep and then I'd be on my way to complete pleasure. On my way to possibly feeling more pleasure than I've ever felt in my life. And pain. So much pain. And humiliation. The list of possibilities was endless and my pussy was dripping in anticipation..

Thursday morning arrived. I woke up with a very wet pussy and hard nipples. My cheeks were flushed with excitement. It felt like Christmas and my birthday all wrapped up in one. Heading out to the car with my small suitcase I felt nervous and excited.

It wasn't until I pulled into the car park directly in front of the hotel that I felt how the last week had wound me up tightly. How the last week of zero self stimulation or any orgasms at all had affected me. How the thought of seeing Sir again had made my knickers wet through on the drive. I looked down between my legs and saw how much my skirt had ridden up while driving plus a very slight wet patch staring back at me. Fuck. I needed him.

Getting out of the car I spotted him standing in front of the hotel, his own suitcase beside him. My breath caught. I fumbled slightly with my keys, struggling to get the boot open and my suitcase out then to lock up. I didn't look up again until I had completed those menial tasks and found him walking towards me, an amused look on his face.

"You're late," he greets me with.

I hastily check my watch, seeing that it is indeed 7 minutes past 2. Shit. Not a good way to start. I open my mouth to explain about the traffic, but close it again when he raises his finger to my lips.

"I'm not interested. That's a stroke of the cane for every minute you were late. Come."

He turns around then, leaving me standing in shock. It takes a second for me to get myself back together and I hurry behind him, dragging my suitcase on its wheels behind me, skipping a few times to catch him up. Keeping my head down I settle into the same pace as him, just slightly behind, not wanting to risk any further punishment.

Entering the hotel, after he has collected his suitcase from the top step where he left it, I'm struck by how quiet the surroundings are, and even how quiet the hotel is. Approaching the reception desk together, the receptionist looks up from her computer and smiles at us both and says hello. I open my mouth to respond but I'm quickly stopped by Sir.

"No one asked you to speak, sub. Go stand over there like an obedient little sub while I get us checked in," he said sharply, nodding towards the fireplace.

I felt my cheeks flame hot in embarrassment and saw the look of utter shock pass over the receptionist's face. I didn't hesitate any longer than it took me to take in a deep breath. I turned and walked over to the fireplace, my head down and stood as I know he would want me to - facing the wall, with my hands clasped behind my back, legs together. I couldn't bring myself to stand exactly as he would insist in private, with my nose touching the wall, legs slightly spread, with my arms behind me with my hands grasping the opposite elbow.

I felt his eyes on me, watching my retreat and as I positioned myself as well as I could bare in such a public place. Then he started his conversation with the receptionist. His tone of voice changed completely with her. He was friendly and approachable once more, putting her at ease immediately. I heard the tremble in her voice retreat and give way to an easy tone that suggested she wasn't completely unknowing of what was going on between us. They were discussing how quiet the hotel was, we were the only guests that night. I heard him thank her, then walk over to me. I felt my entire body tense as I heard him come closer.

Leaning in close he whispered in my ear, "you better get used to this, and you better start to do better my little sub. You know exactly what I expect of you." While he was saying these words his hands were at work on my body; pushing me closer to the wall until my nose was touching it, pulling my arms tighter behind my back until they were positioned in the box position and lastly he quickly thrust his hand between my legs forcing me to open them, just below my pussy, no contact. I let out a whimper, almost a cry. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me in front of a complete stranger.

"I'm sorry Sir, yes Sir," I reply. Speaking my first words to him since I arrived.

He turned away then, walking back to the reception desk. He's given our room number and a key card. He wishes the receptionist a good afternoon and I hear him walk back towards me.

"Get our bags from the desk, sub, and hurry up about it," he barks, his tone of voice startling me into movement.

I pull back from the wall and walk quickly over to the desk, seeing the girl there grinning at me. Or is she smirking. Either way I can see the shock still there in her eyes. Like she can't quite understand my behaviour. I smile at her, hoping to reassure her. Trying to let her see that I'm not mindless, but that I'm enjoying myself. Thoroughly. Despite that, I can still feel the flames surrounding my neck, my chest and my cheeks. Mortified at this stranger's witnessing of my first act of complete submission.

Until Saturday evening when I arrived home I belonged to my Master. I was going to be expected to do whatever he said, with no hesitation and with a smile on my face. Or at the very least a look of lust in my eyes. Grabbing the handles of the bags I followed the direction he went quickly, not wanting to lose him. I caught up to him at the foot of the stairs and he motioned for me to go ahead of him. I felt his eyes on my ass.

"Stop."

I stopped on the third step, our bags weighing heavily in my hands. Felt his hands on my waist as he tugged my skirt up slightly. Obviously deciding that wasn't enough, he moved his hands to the hem and pulled it up further, exposing my ass, clad only in a small black lacy pair of knickers. A very wet pair of small black lacy knickers.

"Continue."

I kept on up the stairs, my cheeks even more on fire if at all possible. I could only hope that the reception girl had returned her attention to her computer. At least we wouldn't bump into any other guests.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I waited his next instructions. I had heard our room number and could see from the sign in front of me that we should turn left, but I didn't want to show any disobedience. He pressed his body against mine as he reached the top of the stairs also.

"Very good sub, you please me. Turn left and continue until you reach our room. When you get there, place our bags to one side of our door and I want you to kneel on the other side. Face the wall our door is on, knees spread apart, hands palm up on your thighs, tits pushed out and look straight ahead. You may sit back on your heels. Do not move. Do not look anywhere, except straight ahead." With that final instruction he taps my ass not so lightly and turns me in the right direction.

I follow the corridor and signs until I reach our room door. The carpeted hallway muffles my footsteps and I can't hear anything behind me. I daren't look to see if he's following me. Our room is right at the back of the hotel it seems. I've made two turns and can only imagine we are as far away from reception as possible. This makes me relax slightly. Until I realise the further we are from anyone the more he can make me scream. The more he can spank me. Loudly. I shiver partially from fear but mostly from excitement.

I follow his instructions, dropping to my knees to the right hand side of the door, the side he will see and have to pass to enter the room. I wonder idly how long he will leave me waiting. I try to get comfortable. My black skirt is still pulled up around my waist, so it isn't restrictive, my deep purple blouse is still tucked in, the buttons strained slightly across my G cup breasts. My lacy black bra is causing a beautiful discomfort against my hard nipples and my knickers are a sodden mess. My modest heels are fitted snugly on my feet still, keeping me in such a position that my back is curved as I push my breasts out as he wished. My light brown hair falls down my back to my shoulder blades, loose for now.

I'm staring straight ahead as instructed and starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye, to my right. I correct my position even more, to perfection I hope. I hear him standing behind me then, can imagine him looking down on me. I hear his breathing, even and easy, like he's completely unaffected. My breathing becomes erratic and I can feel my pussy tingling in response to his proximity.

There is movement to my left then and I hear the subtle slide and click of the key card in the door. He pushes open the door, picks up the bags and enters, letting the door swing closed behind him.

I groan in mild impatience. Humiliated again. I'm silently praying that no one comes along this way. There might not be any guests, but that doesn't mean there isn't any staff around.

I have no idea how long I've been kneeling there. My muscles are starting to tense up and I can feel cramp building in my calves. I try to shift my weight from hip to hip to relieve it. I must have been here for at least fifteen minutes now. My discomfort is only adding to my anticipation, and I'm almost angry with myself for that. Until I remember, this is why I'm here.

With that thought, I hear the door open. I straighten my position again, finding myself slightly slouched from my attempts to relieve the cramp. His hand rests on the top of my head, stroking down my hair, the back of my neck. I start to relax, my shoulders dropping with loss of tension. But it's short lived as he grasps a fistful of hair at the back of my head. I gasp in pain, at the sudden unexpected harshness. My hands automatically come away from my thighs in surprise.

"Hands behind your back and keep them there slut, do not try to stop me, unless you wish to displease me further," he snaps.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir," I whisper through my pain, placing my hands behind my back in his preferred box position.

"Good girl. Maybe you do want to please me. Even if you haven't shown that yet," he turns me to face my left by the fistful of hair and pushes me forward with his foot in the small of my back. Keeping a firm grasp of my hair as I start falling forwards, I'm suspended in mid air. His hand and the hair attached to my scalp the only thing keeping me upright. I struggle to keep my hands behind my back as he has instructed, desperately wanting to put them out and find the floor with them.

He keeps me like that for what feel like ten minutes, but is most likely only 30 seconds. My scalp is screaming in protest, I'm whimpering in pain, trying to keep back a scream or a shout. He lowers me closer to the ground, before letting go when I'm an inch or two from the floor. I land with a grunt, let my legs straighten behind me and my forehead rest on the soft carpet. My scalp is on fire as is my pussy.

"Back up, on your hands and knees this time bitch and follow me."

My cheeks are flaming again at being spoken to like this, at being told to crawl after him. I obey him though. I don't want any more punishment than I've already gained.

I crawl after my Master into our room. I glance around as best I can without looking too obvious. I see coils of rope sitting on the desk beside numerous sex toys and spanking tools. My pussy responds again to the possibilities that lie ahead of me.

"Stand up bitch."

I whisper, "yes sir," as I stand as quickly as I can. My muscles are already protesting slightly. I place my hands behind my back once more, wanting to keep in his good books.

"Turn around for me. Slowly. Let me look at what I possess. Let me look at my submissive's body. The body that I'm going to use, abuse and torture over the next few days."

I feel my knees weaken and my tummy flips and tugs as my clit throbs at his words. A moan escapes my lips and I close my eyes as I try to control my reaction.

"Yes sir," and I start to turn for my Master. Slowly as he requested. I sway my hips from side to side to turn me on the spot, highly sexualised by everything that had happened up until now.

"Stop. I am going to satiate myself with your body. Your pleasure is second to mine, and I am in charge of it. You do not do anything this weekend without my permission. You do not go to the bathroom, you do not take a drink, not even a sip of water, you do not sleep without my permission. You do not cum. You do not speak to anyone without my permission and when you address me you will do so properly. Any time you fail to follow these instructions, you will be punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I nod as I whisper.

"Not good enough. Speak so I can hear you girl. At all times. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I reply, louder this time, my voice trembling with lust.

He stands up then and walks over to me from where he had been sitting at the foot of the bed. His hands come up to my face first, caressing my cheeks, moving down with the back of his fingers over my neck. One hand continues to travel down over my breasts making me gasp, just as his other hand circles my throat and tightens almost imperceptibly. I feel him cup my left breast feeling its weight in his hands and his fingers run over my clothed nipples. As he starts to tighten his grip on my throat, he grasps my nipple between his forefinger and thumb and pinches hard, making me squeal at the unexpected pain and his mouth takes mine.

I feel his tongue slip past my lips, and I respond excitedly, so grateful for this intimate touch, wanting it to go on and on. He abruptly releases me, both hands going down to my waist, exploring the bunched up skirt.

"This is a good look for you. You look like a desperate whore. Like you couldn't wait to be open and ready. Get back on your knees over on that chaise lounge, with your face against the seat and your hands either side of your head. Do not move from that position until I say so."

As I turn away from him, desperate to follow his instructions immediately, I feel him grab a handful of my hair again and use it to bend me forward at the waist, my ass pushing out behind me. His hand makes contact with my ass harshly, 6 times I count, 3 hard, sharp spanks on each cheek, before I can even process what's going on. My ass is burning and my mind is working hard to try to work out what happened.

"You forgot something bitch. Let that be your last reminder." And he pushes me away from him.

Shit, I didn't acknowledge his instruction in my haste, I think.

"I'm so sorry sir, yes sir, I understand," I stutter out quickly in an attempt to redeem myself however marginally.

"Crawl to the chaise, like the bitch you are. Let me see that ass of yours high in the air with my handprints on it."

"Yes sir," I say as I drop to my knees again. I start to make my way over to the chaise which is in the furthest corner of the room. I've never felt so degraded in my life as I crawl on my hands and knees to whatever fate awaits me. Yet I have also never felt so turned on. I can't wait to find out what he has in store for me when I get to the chaise. I do my best to get up on it without lifting off my knees too much. I kneel with my knees as far apart as possible, my knees on the very edges of the chaise. I quickly lower my head and turn to face him, resting my cheek against the soft fabric with my hands on either side of my head as instructed.

I regret facing him. I see him walk over to the table and lift the one item I had really hoped to not see this weekend. The cane. Shit, I thought. He's going to do this now. My punishment for being late.

I feel my ass tense up in anticipation.

He walks towards me, swishing it through the air, letting me see how he swings it at full force through the air. Letting me hear the intimidating sound it makes. When he reaches me, he starts to run the very ti of the cane up the back of my thigh, moving to the other one when he reaches my sit spot, teasing me. Then he starts to tap me lightly up and down my thighs, the insides, the outsides, the backs, the backs of my calves, over and over as he speaks.

"Our time hadn't even started and you already earned yourself punishment by being late. Seven minutes late, therefore 7 strokes. But I don't like odd numbers. So it will be 12 strokes," he chuckled at that, almost as though he could read my indignation that surely that meant 8 was the next number, not 12.

"You're right in your thoughts, little sub, 8 would be the next logical step," he says, smiling, confirming that he knows your mind, "but 12 is more traditional. And I do like traditional. Plus you didn't stand exactly how I wanted you downstairs. The first 7 will be across that unmarked backside of yours. The remaining 5 you will turn onto your back for and raise your legs in the air. I want you to grasp your ankles and pull your legs back and keep them apart. I'm going to cane your inner thighs to remind you that your legs are to be apart at all times. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I respond, almost paralysed by fear and desire.

"Count the strokes sub, and thank me. Trust me on this, you do not want to forget that."

And I feel the first impossibly hard stroke against my ass with no warning. The light taps stopped abruptly then before I could process that, I felt the biting sting across both cheeks. I scream out, completely forgetting to count, never mind thank. I can't think at all.

"Now that, was just not good enough."

He steps forward and I jump when I feel his touch, his hand makes contact with my ass, harshly several times, bringing me back to my senses.

"I'm sorry sir, I just wasn't expecting it sir. Please, I'm sorry, sir."

I feel him slipping his fingers into the waistband of my knickers and pulling them down, tapping each knee in turn to take them completely off. He sits them in front of my face, I can smell, almost taste my wetness.

"If you scream out again, you'll have these in your mouth, and I will still expect you to count and thank me. Let's start again," he says, almost impatiently.