“How many times,” he asks, “Have we had a conversation about you not paying attention, or not focusing, or not being fully present?”
Kneeling between his legs, with my ass still stinging from his belt, asshole plugged and a bit uncomfortable, for a second i think he’s going to chastise me some more for not listening. i feel a twinge of shame. Perhaps that shadow crosses my face because he touches my cheek, “No,” he says, “it’s ok, just listen.”
“I know you’ve been trying really hard to live out your list of values. What are they?” and when i hesitate, he nods, “I want to hear you say them. The list, please.”
“Yes, Sir,” and my voice is soft as i start off, “Aware and responsive,” but i’m gaining power as i say the words. “Receptive and open.” This is who i want to be, and i finish firmly. “To be attentive and to serve.”
“Yes,” he says, pleased. “Good girl,” and the praise makes me feel warm and glowing. “And you want this not just with me, but also in the work you do as a teacher, right?” I nod, and he continues, “But it’s hard to achieve those things. Hard for you, but hard for anyone, yes?”
i nod, slowly, uncertain where he’s going with this.
“Well, a friend of mine was telling me about this place. It’s like a retreat center. I don’t know exactly where it is, but apparently, it’s about an hour outside of Calloway.” Calloway is about 3 hours away from where we live, so i’m surprised that he’s even considering this.
He begins to play with my nipples, lightly, almost as if he’s not aware that he’s doing it. As if there were a direct line from my nipples to cunt, the heat between my thighs intensifies. i squirm a little, wishing i saw an orgasm somewhere in my immediate future.
He moves his hands away from me, i sigh. Just a tiny sigh.
“Next weekend,” he says, “I’ve made reservations for us at the Retreat Center. With the three day weekend, and taking Friday off too, we’ll have plenty of time. We’ll drive up to Calloway after work Thursday, spend the night there, have a leisurely breakfast and maybe visit that park we like, then we catch a shuttle from there the rest of the way.”
There are so many parts to this, my mind doesn’t know where to settle. He made reservations? That’s not even like him, for starters. Usually he would have me make reservations and plans for whatever we were going to do. And i love Calloway, love the restaurant we go to for breakfast, and the park he’s mentioned. So i’m excited about that. But this retreat center – and catching a shuttle – and what kind of place is it anyway? Who’s the friend that told him about it? What will we do there? And how will this help me be more of “the list?”
Before i can start asking the hundred questions flashing through my mind, he puts a finger over my lips. “Three,” he says. “You may ask me three questions. Take your time picking them, I’m only going to answer three.”
That sends me into a mini-panic – how can i pick just three? Which three? What if i ask the wrong questions and don’t find out what i want to know? How do i even know what i need to know?
He sees the touch of panic, and leans forward, reaches around my head to grasp my hair firmly at the nape of my neck. He pulls my head back for a moment, just long enough for me to feel his control, then relaxes his grip. “Easy,” he says. “There’s time to think.”
But my mind is racing, until i see he’s unzipped his pants, is holding his cock in one hand, stroking it as it gets harder. And harder.
i am completely distracted now.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he says, “and keep them there.”
Obediently, i clasp my hands behind my back. With the hand that is not on his cock, he grasps my left nipple and tugs gently, making me whimper. He switches to the right one. Then back to the left. But this time, instead of tugging gently, he suddenly pinches, pulls and twists all in one rush of intense pain that makes me cry out and whimper and sends a flash of heat to my cunt all much much faster than i can say it. He laughs. Releases that nipple.
i have managed to keep my hands behind my back, but i can’t look at him. i know he’s going to do the other nipple. i know he is.
“Would you like to suck my cock?” he says.
“Yes, Sir, Please, may i?” i would love to do that. i can taste him in my mind, feel his velvety skin, the way he fills my mouth, the slippery slide of his cock in and out, striking the back of my throat…. “Please, Sir,” i say again.
“Do you want me to hurt your other nipple first?” he says.
The question is a trick one, i know it is. i don’t know what the right answer is. First or afterwards? I’m pretty sure the choice is not first or never.
But i remember the magic words, “Whatever pleases you, Sir,” i say.
He grins, “Good girl,” and he does it, quickly, viciously, making me cry out, he brings tears to my eyes, but i don’t pull away and i keep my hands behind my back and i know he is pleased, because he lets me take his cock in my mouth. Just the tip at first, letting me suck the head, using my tongue to make it wetter, humming a little as i do it, because i know he likes the vibration. He lets me work it farther into my mouth, filling my mouth, he allows me to focus all my love and desire and longing to please on his cock.
i can still feel the butt plug, my ass is still tingling, and somewhere my mind is still a bit worried about this retreat thing he’s talking about, but mostly, my attention is right where it belongs, on him.