The Training.pdf

The Training

tara sue me

Chapter 1 _______________________________________________________________ 3

Chapter 2 ______________________________________________________________10

Chapter 3 ______________________________________________________________ 16

Chapter 4 ______________________________________________________________ 22

Chapter 5 ______________________________________________________________ 28

Chapter 6 ______________________________________________________________ 35

Chapter 7 ______________________________________________________________ 44

Chapter 8 ______________________________________________________________ 53

Chapter 9 ______________________________________________________________ 60

Chapter 10 _____________________________________________________________ 69

Chapter 11 _____________________________________________________________ 75

Chapter 12 _____________________________________________________________ 80

Chapter 13 _____________________________________________________________ 88

Chapter 14 _____________________________________________________________ 95

Chapter 15 ____________________________________________________________ 101

Chapter 16 ____________________________________________________________ 109

Chapter 1

The drive back to Edward’s house took longer than it should have. Or maybe it just felt

like it took longer. Maybe it was nerves.

I tipped my head in thought.

Maybe not nerves, exactly. Maybe anticipation.

Anticipation that after weeks of talking, weeks of waiting, and weeks of planning, we

were finally here.

Finally back.

I lifted my hand and touched the collar – Edward’s collar. My fingertips danced over the

familiar loops and I followed the chain down to the diamond pendant. I moved my head

from side to side, reacquainting myself to the collar’s feel.

There were no words to describe how I felt wearing Edward’s collar again. The closest I

could come was to compare it to a puzzle. A puzzle with the last piece finally in place. Yes,

for the last few weeks, Edward and I lived as lovers, but we both felt incomplete. His

recollaring of me - his reclaiming me - had been what was missing. It sounded odd, even

to me, but I finally felt like I was his again.

I eventually reached Edward’s house and pulled into his long drive. Lights flickered from

the windows. He had set the timer, anticipating my arrival in the dark. Such a small

gesture, but a touching one. One that showed, like much he did, how he kept me firmly at

the forefront of his mind.

I jingled my keys as I walked up the drive to his front door. My keys. To his house. He

gave me a set of keys a week ago. I didn’t live with him, but I spent a fair amount of time

at his house. He said it only made sense for me to be able to let myself in or to lock up

when I left.

Jake, Edward’s Siberian Husky, rushed at me when I opened the door. I rubbed his head

and let him outside for a few minutes. I didn’t keep him out for too long – I wasn’t sure if

Edward would arrive home early, but if he did, I wanted to be in place. I wanted this

weekend to be perfect.

“Stay,” I told Jake after stopping in the kitchen to refill his water bowl. Jake obeyed all of

Edward’s orders, but thankfully he listened to me this time. Normally, he would follow

me up the stairs and tonight that would be odd.

I quickly left the kitchen and made my way upstairs to my old room. The room that would

be mine on weekends.

I undressed, placing my clothes in a neat pile on the edge of the twin bed. On this, Edward

and I had been in agreement. I would share his bed Sunday through Thursday nights, any

time I spent the night with him, but on Friday and Saturday nights, I would sleep in the

room he reserved for his submissives.

Now that we had a more traditional relationship during the week, we both wanted to

make sure we remained in the proper mindset on weekends. That mindset would be easier

to maintain for both of us if we slept separately. For both of us, yes, but perhaps more so

for Edward. He rarely shared a bed with his submissives and having a romantic

relationship with one was completely new to him.

I stepped naked into the playroom. Edward led me around the room last weekend –

explaining, discussing, and showing me things I’d never seen and several items I’d never

heard of. He wanted me to be at ease in this room.

At its core, it was an unassuming room – hardwood floors, deep, dark brown paint,

handsome cherry armoires, even a long handsome table carved of rich wood. However,

the chains and shackles, the padded leather bench and table, and the wooden whipping

bench gave away the room’s purpose.

A lone pillow waited for me below the hanging chains. I dropped to my knees on it,

situating myself into the position Edward explained I was to be in whenever I waited for

him in this room – butt resting on my heels, back straight, right hand on top of my left in

my lap, fingers not intertwined, and head down.

I got into position and waited.

Time inched forward.

How long had it been since I left Edward’s office? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? An hour

already?

I finally heard him enter through the front door.

“Jake,” he called, and while I knew he spoke Jake’s name so he could take him outside

again, another reason was to alert me who it was that entered the house. To give me time

to prepare myself. Perhaps for him to listen for footsteps from overhead. Footsteps that

would tell him I wasn’t prepared for his arrival. I felt proud he would hear nothing.

I closed my eyes. It wouldn’t be long now. I imagined what Edward was doing – taking

Jake outside, feeding him maybe. Would he undress downstairs? In his bedroom? Or

would he enter the playroom wearing his suit and tie?

Doesn’t matter, I told myself. Whatever Edward has planned will be perfect.

I strained my ears - he was walking up the stairs now. Alone. No dog followed.

Somehow, the atmosphere of the room changed when he walked in. The air became

charged and the space between us nearly hummed. In that moment, I understood – I was

his, yes. I had been correct with that assumption. But even more so, even more

importantly, perhaps, he was mine.

My heart raced.

“Very nice, Isabella,” he said and walked to stand in front of me. His feet were bare and I

noted he had changed out of his suit and into a pair of black jeans.

I closed my eyes again. Cleared my mind. Focused inwardly. Forced myself to remain still

under his scrutiny.

He walked to the table and I heard a drawer open. For a minute, I tried to remember

everything in the drawers, but I stopped myself and once again forced my mind to quiet

itself.

He came back to stand to my side. Something firm and leather trailed down my spine.

Riding crop.

“Perfect posture,” he said as the crop ran up my spine. “I expect you to be in this position

whenever I tell you to enter this room.”

I felt so relieved he was satisfied with my posture. I wanted so much to please him

tonight. To show him I was ready for this. That we were ready. He had been so worried.

Of course, not a bit of worry or doubt could be discerned now. Not in his voice. Not in his

stance. His demeanor in the playroom was utter and complete control and confidence.

He dragged the riding crop down my stomach and then back up. Teasing.

Damn. I loved the riding crop.

I kept my head down even though I wanted to see his face. To meet his eyes. But I knew

the best gift I could give him was my absolute trust and obedience, so I kept my head

down with my eyes focused on the floor.

“Stand up,” he said, and I wondered what he was thinking.

I rose slowly to my feet, knowing I stood directly under the chains. Normally, he kept

them up for storage, but they were lowered tonight.

“Friday night through Sunday afternoon, your body is mine,” he said. “As agreed, the

kitchen table and library are still yours. There, and only there, are you to speak your mind.

Respectfully, of course.”

Both of his hands traced across my shoulders, down my arms. One hand slipped between

my breasts and dropped to where I was wet and aching.

“This,” he said, rubbing my outer lips, “is your responsibility. I want you waxed bare as

often as possible. If I decide you have neglected this responsibility, you will be punished.”

And again, we had agreed to this.

“In addition, it is your responsibility to ensure your waxer does an acceptable job. I will

allow no excuses. Is that understood?”

I didn’t say anything.

“You may answer,” he said and I heard the smile in his voice.

“Yes, Master.”

He slipped a finger between my folds and I felt his breath in my ear. “I like you bare.” His

finger swirled around my clit. “Slick and smooth. Nothing between your pussy and

whatever I decide to do to it.”

Fuck.

Then he moved behind me and cupped my ass. “Have you been using your plug?”

I waited.

“You may answer.”

“Yes, Master.”

His finger made its way back to the front of me and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep

from moaning.

“I won’t ask you that again,” he said. “From now on, it is your responsibility to prepare

your body to accept my cock in any manner I choose to give it to you.” He ran a finger

around the rim of my ear. “If I choose to fuck your ear, I expect your ear to be ready.” He

hooked his finger in my ear and pulled. I kept my head down. “Do you understand?

Answer me.”

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