Three Strikes (Desire Island 3)
His entire body thrummed with anticipation. In a calm voice that belied his excitement, he said, “As you progress in your training, you will move from this silk to rope to chain and finally, if it’s right for us, to leather.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” Abbie breathed, her pupils dilated, her eyes shining.
He resisted a sudden, crazy urge to scoop her into his arms and kiss those luscious lips. Down, boy, he cautioned himself.
To get a better sense of her goals and hard limits, he’d had her fill out the standard slave questionnaire all potential trainees completed. Under goals, she’d stated the desire to become a full-fledged slave in a loving, committed 24/7 Master/slave relationship.
Under hard limits, Abbie had listed the usual no scat and no bestiality, neither of which held the slightest interest for Ryan. She had no issues or problems with intense bondage, confinement in small spaces or edge play.
It pleased him to note under the health section that she was on birth control. She’d selected no condom necessary, which suited him just fine. All staff on Desire Island underwent routine health exams and bloodwork every three months, due to the intimate nature of their work.
The questionnaire was only a basic guideline, however, and only revealed as much as the person completing it shared. He’d been unable to get a firm read from her answers on the sexuality section. While she expressed interest in improving her oral skills and claimed no issues with anal sex or the use of sex toys, she’d said very little about her goals for sexual satisfaction, leaving the personal comment sections blank.
He wasn’t overly worried about this, however, as submissives often tended to gloss over their own desires and needs. And while that might work for some Doms who sought only their own satisfaction, it wasn’t how Ryan rolled. While he loved the power he derived from claiming another, her needs were as important, if not more so, than his own. He was looking very forward to finding out for himself just what made her tick.
“We’re both so experienced in the scene that I don’t think a formal contract is necessary between us,” he continued. “And obviously, as the island’s expert on positions training, you don’t need my help in that regard,” he added with a smile.
She dipped her head modestly, her cheeks pinkening.
Ignoring his rising cock, Ryan laid out some basic rules for the week. “I’ll expect you to present and display on command, of course, and to remain in that position until released. You will not speak without express permission. You will not use the furniture unless otherwise instructed. You will ask permission for all bodily functions. Your body belongs to me for the duration of our time together. With me so far?”
“Yes, Sir,” Abbie replied softly, meeting his eyes for a moment before again looking down. Her dark pink nipples, he noted with pleasure, were fully erect.
Man, she was lovely. It was going to be harder than he’d expected to keep his cock in his jeans. Not that he had to, being the one in charge. But he wanted to set the proper tone for a Master/slave connection. Before the play came the discipline. He needed to make sure she understood who was in control.
The main living space of the cottage had been converted to a fully-equipped BDSM dungeon, and Ryan glanced now toward the racks of whips, canes and paddles that had been secured to the far wall. “In addition to our sessions, you will be marked three times a day, both to remind you of your status and because it pleases me. When I wish to mark you in that way, I’ll let you know by saying, ‘strike one’ or ‘strike two’ or ‘strike three,’ depending. I might use an impact toy, or I might mark you in a different way. If I ask you to bring an implement to me, you will drop whatever you’re doing at the moment and bring it to me in your mouth. At other times, I might just announce the strike and deliver it immediately. You will accept the marks in silence and thank me afterward.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said again, her breath quickening.
Keeping his voice calm, he continued, “If I’m displeased with you at any time during the training, you will be corrected. I find a cage to be a very effective tool in providing a safe space for a slave to contemplate the error of her ways.”
Abbie’s eyes darted toward the two cages set near the pillory. One of the cages looked like a typical steel-barred affair about the size of a large dog kennel, but its horizontal bars were adjustable in case he wanted access to a particular body part or orifice while still keeping her confined. The other restraint device was made entirely of leather straps, save for its round wooden base. The tall, narrow contraption was designed to be suspended from the ceiling, the standing captive held snug within the confines of the crisscrossed leather straps.