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Initiation of Vanilla (Part 1)


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The sound of the opening door reaches her ear. It is enough to jolt her wide awake. She tries to put it all together, her lying in a hotel bed wearing nothing but her black lace thong, morning light creeping through the curtains, her dress and bra on the floor. Slowly her brain, heavy from the two drinks she had last night, remembers: meeting him in the crowded hotel bar with its stuffy air, the way her body was drawn to his, him keeping his distance, never letting her get too close. The hours of conversation, the laughter, the yearning for him to suggest something, anything. And the disappointment when it eventually came, his suggestion, or rather decision, to take her to her room for a good night's sleep and a second refreshed meeting in the morning. Her frustration and disappointment at herself, for she obviously had not been able to capture him, whereas she was all his in this moment. 

 

Steps on the hotel room carpet coming closer, and she finally arrives back in the present moment, swiftly pulls the heavy duvet over her head to hide from whoever is walking towards her. Other men have told her how pretty she was in the morning, when no thoughts of the day had left their marks and she looked sweet and innocent. But if it was him, then never could he see her like this! 

'Ah, my lovely little girl, now why would you hide from me?' His deep and full voice sounds surprised. 'Let me see your beautiful face.' She cannot resist, has to see him, and slowly ***ks out of the cover. There he is, his blue eyes with the same calm and steady gaze, his suit as immaculate as yesterday. She feels her body reacting, out of her control, feels it being pulled towards him. He pulls a chair close to the bed and puts down the key card and a small bottle of sparkling water on the bedside table. Seeing this, she realises how thirsty she is, how dry her mouth and throat feel, but she knows better than to ask for it. He smiles at her. The bemused look on his face confuses her, makes it difficult for her to read him. 'My, you are pretty.', he murmures. She just waits. Waits for him to kiss her or to touch her. Her inexperience frustrates her now. What should she do? How can she entice him? And is there such a thing as an official way to do this? Should it not be in her, this knowledge, a more instinctive behaviour? 

It seems like minutes have passed before he speaks again. 'I hope you have slept well and had sweet dreams, my lovely.' She loves him calling her this, takes it literally, yes she is his. 'I promised you, there would be no touching on our first meeting and this is still valid, I will not touch you today. Yet, now that we know that our minds work well together, I believe it is time for us to find out, if our bodies do too. So if you agree, we will start your initiation.' The words sink in and she feels herself tense up. Within seconds, a war of thoughts is raging in her, her need for him to take care of her is as mighty as her *** of what this actually means. She feels at his mercy already, how will it be if she is truly his, not just in this room, but every waking moment? When she hears herself answer, it is a whisper, articulated by her deepest desires, not by her rational self. 'Yes, I am ready.' 

It is all he needed to hear, she can tell by the small twitch of his eyes. He leans back in his chair, seems to physically enjoy this change of dynamic, taking on a more relaxed posture. 'Stop the hiding and let me see your body.' Reluctantly, she pushes the warm and comforting duvet off her body, one centimetre at the time. She can see his impatience growing, but it is her last safety blanket and the cold of the room feels like an attack to her slim body. Her nipples harden as soon as she lifts the cover from them and finally she lies in front of him, exposed and shivering lightly. His gaze moves up and down her trembling body. It stirs her desire again, she wants him to love what he sees, no, more, she wants him to desire it, just as she desires his appreciation. He is breathing heavily now, her effect on him on display. With a sudden movement, he pulls himself away from her and lifts the water bottle off the table. 'As you can see, I brought you something to refresh you a little.' By now, all thoughts of thirst have disappeared from her mind and she is confused by this change of focus, leaving her s***chless. 'Here is your first rule my little kitten: A present from your Master is always met with a Thank you.' Her cheeks blush with the feeling of shame coming over her for not being more adequate. 'Of course.' She seems to stumble over her own words, 'Thank you, Master.' She can tell that he loves to see her humiliated like this as his chest broadens with a deep inhale and he starts to open the bottle.

'First, we need to get you ready.' Pointing at the last bit of clothing on her body he continues: 'Take it off and spread your legs wide for me.' The s***d with which she follows his command, takes her by surprise. This is not her reacting, this is something deeper, indefinable. Her earlier questioning is beginning to give way to submission, she realises. His sharp voice pulls her out of these reflections. 'Stretch your arms above your head and leave them there.' She does as she is told, enjoying the sensation of being his toy to play with. 'Hold still and let's see if you enjoy this' he says with a tone sweet as honey. The bottle is high above her dark red nipples that are standing up from arousal and excitement. The first drops hit her breasts and she shrieks from shock and enjoyment. As if through a veil she hears him laugh, the same chesty laugh as yesterday. 'A squeamish little lady? When this was only the beginning...' He continues to pour little amounts of water on her, aiming for her nipples and she starts to embrace the cold fluid running down the sides of her body, starts to feel relaxed. 

'You are a delight.' he whispers in her ear and she smiles at this unexpected compliment making her feel warm inside. 'Open your mouth.' Her head jerks up. The old resistance stirs again, demanding of her to stop giving in to his orders. She looks at him with defiance, but his eyes hold hers and wrestle her down. With a sigh she puts her head back on the soft pillow and parts her lips slightly. He leans over her face, looks directly into her eyes and repeats his order, this time with a stern voice. 'Open. Your. Mouth.' She can feel her heart beating, fast and hard, feels *** running up and down her spine and opens her mouth for him. 'That's a good girl', he mumbles and brings the bottle some centimetres above her face. She has no more control over her mind or her body. She knows this is only water, she knows nothing can happen here, but she cannot shake off the feeling of being completely in his hands. She tenses up, wriggles on the bed and suddenly notices with a shock how wet she is. The first splashes of water hit her lips and chin, the little bubbles tickling her, making her laugh. She closes her eyes, giving in to the sensations and now feels the water on her tongue, on her cheeks, flowing down her neck like fingers choking her. Her moans grow louder, the pulsing of her clit grows stronger and she is floating on a wave of excitement... 

Posted
Brilliant. Just the right pace and tone to keep the reader interested. My only quibble is “my lovely” but I wouldn’t be so demanding if the story wasn’t so good. It deserves such a high bar.
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Thank you for your lovely (😋) comments. Very kind of you! ❤️

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