Hey everybody! Richard here with your weekly solo story. This one’s a two parter, so make sure you stop back next week!

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“Excited to see what you got those for?” he asked.

“I don’t need a reason to follow orders, but I am curious, Sir,” she said, reaching down to tweak her nipple ring and shivering a little, then repeating it with her hood piercing. “You kept me in suspense until they healed. It was very hard to be patient for six months, but I tried to be good for you.”

“Mmmhmmm,” he said, opening their toy chest and pulling out lube, an anal hook, hairbrush, and some thin chain.

She craned her neck to watch what he was doing, “Oooh, looks like a fun night.”

He chuckled, squirting a bit of lube on his hands and rubbing them together to warm it up, then smearing it onto the hook.

“Oooh, Sir, you know how turned on I get whenever you play with anything long, hard, and curved…”

He rolled his eyes, “You get turned on whenever I breathe,” he said, walking behind her. “Lift and spread,” he ordered, crouching down.

She complied, raising her ass and reaching back to spread her cheeks. He took one lubed finger and gently pressed it against her asshole, slipping it in and out a few times.

“And you’re so gentle tonight… I’m almost afraid to find out what you’re planning.”

“Training,” he said, slowly slipping the tip of the hook in.

She gasped, wriggling her ass against it. “And you didn’t even fuck my ass yourself first… I don’t know. This whole thing is a little suspicious, Master.”

He slowly worked it deeper and deeper, the little whore moaning as he did.

“Well, I can’t promise it’ll feel good, but I think you’ll enjoy it…”

“Mmmm, those are definitely the best kind of surprises,” she said.

“Sit back up,” he ordered, holding the hook in one hand, making sure the eye stayed up and accessible as she shifted position.

She moaned softly as he worked it into the proper position and sat down next to her, grabbing the brush.

“Are you going to spank me with it in?” she asked, seeing it out of the corner of her eye. “That would definitely make up for being gentle earlier…”

“No, I’m going to brush your hair. It’s very nice hair. I should take care of it like I help take care of the rest of you,” he said, taking the last foot or so and gently pulling the brush through it. 

“Be careful. It’s probably knotty.”

“Let me know if I tug too hard,” he said, slowly reaching back up and drawing it down again.

She squirmed a little. “Seriously, you’re making me nervous.”

He just hummed softly and kept brushing, slowly working his way higher up and out on her head. 

“Such nice, long, soft hair,” he said, smiling. “You are a treasure, pet.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said, wriggling a little.

“Feel all done?”

“It’s perfect, Sir, thank you,” she said, shaking her head a little bit, letting it tumble down her back.

“Careful,” he said, “that’s going to cause problems for you in a little.”

She looked up at him, “How so, Sir?”

He picked up the chains, clipping them onto the end of her nipple rings. 

“We’re going to do some posture training today. I need you to sit perfectly straight like we’ve been practicing.”

She swallowed. “Yes, Sir,” she said. “Thank you for practicing it with me so much lately. Otherwise, I’m sure this would be much harder.”

Once she had slid up, he gently adjusted her position a bit, sliding his hands over her thighs, up her back, and over her neck. She tried not to shiver, knowing it would just make him readjust or punish her. After a few moments, he was satisfied and reached back, gathering a length of it in his hand, and drawing it through the eye of the hook, and looping it over, slowly knotting it around itself.

“Alright, keep that just taut but not tugging,” he ordered, holding his hands along the sides of her jaw to make sure she was perfect, giving her a few seconds before she had to hold it herself.

“Yes, Sir…” she said, cheeks flushed. She’d recognized what he was doing as soon as he’d mentioned posture, but now that her hair was tied and the chains were on, she could feel her wetness leaking down her thighs. “Oh god, this is so fucking hot. I’m going to hate you in a couple of minutes, but it’s going to be so worth it.”

“We’ll see,” he said, clipping the chain on the other side to her hood ring, slowly adjusting and tightening it until they were just barely taut. “How’s that feel.”

She took a few long, slow breaths. “Like I’m a pathetic little slut who needs to learn how to sit properly for her Owner,” she said with a grin.

“Good, then let’s just relax for a bit,” he said, leaning back and putting his feet in her lap, grabbing his book and a pillow off the bed.

“Sir… I don’t know that I can kiss your feet like this, but I could rub them if you’d like.”

He glanced over the cover of his book. “Go ahead, slave-girl,” he said, licking one fingertip and theatrically turning the page, whistling quietly to himself.

She brought her hands down, moving slowly and carefully to avoid jiggling the chains, very gently rubbing circles across his soles with her thumbs. “Thank you for letting me help you relax, Sir,” she said in a slow, shuddering voice.

“How long do you think you can keep this training up tonight, slut?”

“Well, when we did posture training before, we got up to almost three hours. I don’t know if I can do it quite that long tonight. Maybe an hour? Your slut is sorry, Sir. She’s just not graceful enough for this.”

“That’s why we practice,” he said, patting her on the head, making her flinch.

He continued reading until he got to the end of the chapter. “I’m hungry,” he said, snapping the book closed and tossing it and the pillow up on the bed. “How about you?”

She glanced over at him, only moving her eyes, “A little, but I’m not sure how much luck I’ll have eating like this.”

“Well, we’ll do something easy. How about scrambled eggs?”

“That would be fine, Sir,” she said. Normally she’d have nodded there.

“Good,” he said, standing up and walking in front of her. He reached down to help her up. “They always come out fluffier when you make them. I think you have a gentler hand than me.”

She took his help to get up, hissing and wincing. “You’d like me to cook for you, Sir?”

“I would,” he said. “And then we’ll walk down for some ice cream for dessert.”

“Of course, Sir,” she whispered. “I do love ice cream.”

“Good,” he said. “You deserve a treat from your posture practice. But come on, you said we only had an hour or so, and it would be embarrassing to have to take those off when we’re in the middle of the line.”

She flushed, “No, that would be bad. I think I should keep them on; an extra few minutes of practice can’t hurt, right?”

“Mmmhmm, good girl,” he said, patting her ass and then putting his hand lightly on her back, guiding her towards the kitchen.

She walked slowly but steadily, each step accompanied by a deep breath. “So, how many eggs would you like, Sir?”

“Oh, I think two would be fine. And I’ll make a little toast. I have to save room for dessert.”

“That sounds good, Sir,” she said. “Would you mind reaching in the fridge and grabbing the eggs, please?”

He looked at her for a long moment, smirking a little without saying anything.

“Sir. Please. I’m trying to work on my posture, and ducking inside is not conducive to good posture.”

“You’re right. I should be supporting you,” he said, grabbing the eggs and setting them next to the stove. She reached up, taking the pan from the rack, wincing a little.

“And the butter too, please.”

“Mmmhmm,” he said, putting that out too.

She sliced off a pat of butter and dropped it into the pan, kicking on the heat and giving it a moment to melt. “Alright,” she said. “Just need to crack these  eggs.” She tapped the eggs one by one on the edge of the pan, dropping them in, then tossing the shells in the trash next to the stove. “Spatula…” she said, taking a step to the side instead of reaching for it. She stared down at the pan for a moment, then sighed and lifted the spatula, scrambling the eggs in the pan to make sure they were nice and fluffy. Every scrape sent a shiver of pain bouncing up and down her spine, sparking at her ass, clit, hair, and nipples.

“Would you like them a little on the runny side today, Sir?”

He shrugged, “I suppose it would be fine for a change.” He walked over to the toaster oven, slipping in four slices and fixing drinks while they toasted before sliding them onto two plates once they were lightly browned.

“I guess making you eat out of your dish is out of the question tonight…” he said.

“Please, no, Sir. I’ll do it for the whole rest of the week, but tonight I’d like to just stand at the table.”

“That’s fine, pet,” he said, dropping her plate, utensils, and glass at her place and then sitting at his. “Once you get better at this, maybe I’ll stand with you and give you a little hip tap every once in a while.”

“Sir. You are absolutely terrible. If I were a Domme, I would punish you every day.”

“I’ve told you I’d be happy to trade off every once in a while. I think you’d look very sexy slapping a crop against your palm and calling me a bad boy.”

She flushed again, quickly eating her eggs. She didn’t have to wince too often. She was getting better. Which he surely saw and would use as an excuse to torment her further.

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Swing by next Thursday to see if our sub can handle taking her practice out in public. Thanks for reading. -Richard