When the maid Irene carelessly breaks an entire stack of saucers, the master of the house decides that his first round of training clearly wasn’t good enough. He will just have to train her better this time. Perhaps some new training aids...
When the maid Irene carelessly breaks an entire stack of saucers, the master of the house decides that his first round of training clearly wasn’t good enough. He will just have to train her better this time. Perhaps some new training aids and a few assistants will help discipline her!
This story is for adults only. Explicit themes include bondage, exhibition, sub/dom, group sex. 4800 words.
“So you don’t listen to me,” he whispered in my ear, “you drop dishes, and once again, you don’t remember the rules! What good are you, exactly?”
“Wait… the rules?” I asked in confusion. “What rules?” Wait, oh sh– “
And then it hit me. The rule, I mean. His hand hit me about half a second later.
“I’m sorry, master!” I squealed as his hand found my bottom again, leaving another stinging mark against my skin.
“So you do remember some things, at least. Good,” he purred.
He softly ran his hand up the back of my leg, sending a tingly wave of pleasure through me and reminding me how much I loved all of this. It felt dangerous, exciting, almost daring to be so completely at his mercy. I still remembered the last time he took me, how he caught me when I tripped and nearly fell down the stairs, pulling me back to safety. He was my master and I his slave, but he wouldn’t truly hurt me. Or, so I hoped and believed. Almost. Maybe that thin line of trust was what made his training sessions such a fucking turn-on to me.
“The last training didn’t stick with you,” he whispered, pressing his strong body against me again, “so perhaps I need to be more thorough this time.”
“Oh god yes,” I whispered, and for the first and only time, he didn’t catch my mistake. He was too busy running his hands up my body, cupping my breasts, gloriously kneading them in a way that made me want to melt in his arms. Those chains were such cruel torture! I wanted to sink into him, let him take me and have his way with me, but instead I had to stand immobile while he teased and toyed with me.
“Do you know what I am going to do with you, Irene?”
“What, master?” I moaned, feeling his fingers so close to me, making me wet with each fluttery touch.
“Ooh, you remembered again! Good girl,” he whispered, and he slid his fingers slowly, delicately over the top of my stockings, tickling my legs and sending another shiver of anticipation through me. “I don’t know if I’m good enough to train you on my own, Irene. I might need a little help.”
An excited shiver ran through me at his words. A little help? Was he really…? Yes, he was! The door slowly opened in front of me, and one by one, three tall men in black suits entered...
Nina DeRosa is a former biologist who spent one too many days bored out of her mind while staring into a microscope. As an escape from her tedious career, she took to writing stories out of her steamy daydreams, and she decided to make a career out of it.
She currently lives in Indiana with two cats and an incredibly lucky husband who probably forgot to take out the garbage again.