Is this really the end?
I know. Can I take it back? He looked at me. I know this hurt him too, why was I rubbing it in? I’m sorry, it’s for the best. I’m just selfish sometimes.
You’re not selfish, you’re scared. But you shouldn’t be, little one, you have been a wonderful pupil. You are ready to serve.
His voice held pride, but his face showed the sadness that we both felt. I took another sip of wine and considered just giving him a kiss and leaving. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to do it though. I had to give our time together a proper send off. It meant too much to me to just say ‘thanks for everything, see you around’.
He moved to me and brushed my cheek. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. He smelled so good. Not a cologne, just his manly scent. I took a deep breath, hiked up my metaphorical big girl panties (because who is allowed to wear panties?) and set down my wine glass. I needed him to know that I was focused on him, not what the end of the night would bring. I knelt down in front of him. As much as I wanted to start loosening his belt, he taught me better than that. I kept my eyes down on his shoes, wondering if I would be cleaning them with my tongue tonight. Instead, reacting quickly to my willingness to end the conversation, he raised my chin with one finger, continuing pressure until I was standing. He snapped his fingers for me to follow him and left the lounge toward the back room.
I’m sure it was a guest room for most people, but if I had been a ‘guest’ there I would be pretty curious about the locked wardrobe that took up most of the wall opposite the bed. Maybe I’m just nosy. But it is a very comfortable bed; he also had the connection points hidden well.
He ordered me to strip and get up on the bed with a wave of hand. The wardrobe was already unlocked and open. Out came several rope braids. One of my early lessons was the care and maintenance of all of his gear, I couldn’t even remember if it was a punishment or a reward. I laid on the bed, waiting for whatever he wanted from me. Looking around the room I started to get emotional thinking about never being invited to this room again. Luckily, several single column ties around my wrists and ankles were more than enough to distract me.
Spread eagle and face down on the bed I moved my head to watch him survey me. Both concerned and aroused by the way he moved with such confidence and purpose. He undressed, climbed on the bed, and began to kiss my legs. Moving his way to the top of my thigh and then starting again on the other foot. I think he did each leg three times. With my eyes closed I relaxed into the calming tingling that moved over my body. He always knew how to make me shiver in the best possible ways.
After the third, or possibly fourth, round of kisses he knelt up on the bed between my legs and gave my ass a hard slap. It sounded worse than it felt, but I knew it was just the start. He grabbed my hips and pulled me up on my knees. The rope’s minimal slack meant I had no choice but to smash my face into the bed for support; something I’m sure he had calculated. His grip on my hips tightened as he thrust into me. Leg kisses or not, I had learned to always be ready for him. He was not patient and had a delightful habit of taking me whenever and wherever he felt the urge. He wasn’t a slow and steady type of guy either, as he roughly threw his body into me. I loved it.
He grabbed my hair, always in a simple braid for this purpose, and pulled my head up sharply. Loosing that point load, my entire body began rocking violently with his thrusts. One hand fisted in my hair and the other slapping the top of my ass and thigh, I felt like a racehorse. If that were true, he had made me a grand champion. We groaned together at his relentless pace.
My I come, Sir?
Yes cunt, you may come.
I could hear the strain as he tried to get his answer out before he could no longer talk. We were both so close that as I began bucking against him I knew I had pushed him over the edge. We kept up speed as we pulled the orgasms out of one another, eventually falling together onto the bed. He released my braid, but left his hand on the hip he had reddened, his hand working as a soothing balm.
I was surprised how tired I was. It had only been an hour or so and I had only had one glass of wine with dinner. But a wave of sadness came over me and I realized that was the exhausted feeling. I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to be done. It was my choice to be mentored and trained and I knew that it would have to end sometime. I should be flattered in some ways that he thought I was ready to go out and find a relationship. It still sucked though.
He climbed out of bed, put on his slacks, and began removing the ropes. When he was finished he laid them on the floor and sat back down the edge of the bed.
I have something for you. But first, I need something from you.
I sat up next to him, looking confused.
I need to remove your collar.
I instinctively grasped the chain around my neck. It wasn’t fancy, just a simple silver chain, but after four months it could have been a family heirloom. It was my security blanket. I would find myself playing with it on the bus, in the doctor’s waiting room, or talking to my parents. I would feel so naked without it. I could see that it wasn’t easy for him to ask me for it, so I tried to gather strength as I knelt down and presented my neck for him. He removed it quickly, like a bandaid I guess.
You have been a wonderful submissive Whitney. You have pushed yourself to please me, and you have succeeded. You will have no trouble making another dominant very happy. I have enjoyed our time together. I have a gift for you, so that you will always remember your training and our brief tryst.
He handed me a long, narrow box. I stroked the soft velvet for a few seconds before opening it. A beautiful diamond tennis bracelet lay inside.
I know it’s not the same as your collar, but I hope this will bring you comfort when you look at it. You are a strong and wonderful woman Whitney.
He so rarely used my name it sounded strange that he kept saying it. I know it was his way of ending things. You don’t call an acquaintance cunt, unless you want punched. He helped me put the bracelet on and smiled at me. I got up on my knees and hugged him. Not a simple, ‘thanks’ hug. I hugged every tear that I would cry later on when I got home into him. I hugged every smile that he had given me by his praises. I hugged him knowing that even though I would find another dominant and be perfectly happy, that happiness was because of him.