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CaptainElegant15 59M
1 posts
1/30/2015 6:16 am
Amelia's initiation



The acceptance

Amelia accepted now that she was on a journey of discovery and that she wanted more. There was a deep desire growing inside her, a kind of angry hunger. She realized she had stepped across some kind of threshold by becoming involved with The Captain. She wanted to feel the sweet and ecstatic bliss he had created for her again and again. She couldn’t describe it exactly. It was a kind of potion – a drug with the addictive properties of heroin. This ‘elixir’ she had been sipping was as real to her as the fine, chilled Chablis he chose in the bar last time they met.

She never expected how the anticipation he created could become such a sensory experience. This partly explained how she had become so preoccupied. . She could actually feel it on her lips and between her legs. She wanted it more and more. She thought about it when she should have been working during the day and at night. It was even somehow intruding in her sleep. She had been touching herself when she re-lived her experiences – like running a DVD in her mind. She was learning to say his name when she reached orgasm. As her fingers swirled on her clitoris, she would hear him ordering her to “Open the legs, touch more gently, slow down…” then her back would arch and the joy would sweep over her. When she came, as instructed, she had begun to whisper, obediently, in Amelia’s voice, ”Thank you Captain”…

She marvelled, with a curious resentment, at his powers of manipulation – it was counter intuitive for her. She believed until this point that she was not someone anybody might conquer. She certainly did not consider she was susceptible to grooming. She was a truly modern girl, from a well-off, international background, attractive, well educated, with her own career, independent – maybe a little obsessed by fashion and her appearance but hardly beyond the level of self interest shown by many other women.

Amelia had long been interested in kinky sex and had dirty dreams. She’d tried out a few things with different partners. She liked to be tied. She liked the effects of wearing designer lingerie. She had pierced her nipples which now, she was beginning to realize, was a more profound preparatory statement, a personal step towards recognizing the desire then hidden inside. But taking the step of meeting The Captain, allowing herself to be handled by him, allowing him to give her to Oksana, (that beautiful sweet blonde doll he had hired for her!), this had felt sweeter and more vital than anything else she had ever done. She had begun to accept this path was her destiny whatever might befall her.

The mission

An email arrived. She was told to attend an initiation. She would be invited to subjugate herself completely. She would have to be ready to acknowledge her status as a subject of The Captain. With the 400 Euros in cash he had provided, he gave her a mission. She was to research, select and acquire an outfit which would be appropriate for this event. It would be worn indoors, in private, it should decorate her body, provide access to her, enhance her figure and form and it should make her personal statement – that she would be devoted to exquisite beauty for him.

It took only a few minutes for her to source and select the garments she felt made the right expression for her. She chose a simple, two-piece outfit in a delicate light blue silk/satin fabric. The top was a simple panel tied at the back of the neck and there was a sweet, flared, mini-length skirt tied with a bow at the side of the waist. It was demure and enticing, decent, yet assuredly sexy. She notified The Captain of her choice and ordered it immediately.

A confident Amelia

On Saturday afternoon she was ten minutes early arriving at the hotel for her appointment and had to wander outside to kill time. Her sense of purpose astounded her. There were fewer nerves but more anticipation. She was carefully dressed for him of course, wearing a black Wolford pencil skirt and perilously high heels, a copper-coloured silk blouse with puffed sleeves and her hair was down, immaculately groomed. Her knee-length, deep brown coat was tied at the waist. It had a lush fur collar and cuffs.

Approaching Room 101, she did not pause but tapped on the door. He opened the door and welcomed her in. She was anxious to discover whether Oksana was hiding in the bathroom. She removed her coat, watching him watching her all the time and sat opposite him on the bed. He did not speak but offered her a glass of champagne. Again no choice or interest in her wishes for refreshments but it tasted good. He did not speak. He simply observed her. It was unnerving but she was expecting it. She has learned to wait until spoken to. She finished it while waiting and he poured another glass. Finally she asked, trying to sound like it was an innocent inquiry,

”Is Oksana here today?”

There was no reply. She realized she had given something away by asking.

Undressing

Eventually The Captain spoke, softly and with authority. He complimented her on her presentation and asked her to stand. She did so and he stood behind her looking over her shoulder in the mirror. It pleased her when she spotted the searing desire in his eyes. She sipped some more champagne. He remained silent. He sat down again, a few feet away in a contemporary armchair and asked her to remove her clothing. She gulped. This was it. She had to strip for this self-confessed pervert. What was she like?

She turned to face him and slowly undressed. First she undid the little buttons on the long cuffs of her copper-coloured blouse, then the bow at her neck. He told her to step forward and she did so. He reached up and carefully undid each button, one by one, to her waist. She could see his hands trembling slightly, the very first sign of weakness she had ever witnessed. She leaned over and took a further sip from her glass, trying to conceal her smile

She removed her blouse revealing the plain white bra beneath. He reached up again and his fingers entered each cup of the bra. He pulled each nipple firmly, touching the metal jewelry of her piercings and caressing the very tips to bring them up. She stepped back when he was done and slipped her skirt to the floor, carefully stepping out of it and laying it on the side. She was wearing tan-coloured, sheer, seamed hold up stockings. It was a moment for her to show herself at her best and she placed her hands upon her hips to adopt a model’s pose with her pelvis pushed forward. She wanted to engage his gaze. He was feigning disinterest but she could see the anticipation in his face too. She was loving the power that was coming her way for once and the approval she was receiving.

The oath

He held up one hand and ushered her to the bathroom – instructing her to change for her initiation. She gathered her bag and complied with his request taking her refilled glass with her. She removed her underwear and heels and slipped into the pale blue silk satin two-piece she had bought especially for this occasion on his instructions, with his money. It was just desperately pretty and with the addition of a champagne glow she couldn’t help but give a little barefoot skip in front of the mirror. She knocked on the bathroom door to indicate she was ready and he invited her to enter.

Amelia skipped in and stood before him, tilting her head in a coquettish way. Her nipples were stimulated by the feeling of the silky material and she liked the airy effect of the skirt without her panties. She was a picture of the girl she wanted to be for him. She couldn’t resist a further glass of champagne when offered, a Piper Hiedsieck, 8 years old and chilled for Eskimos. It danced on her tongue. She felt slightly light headed.

He stood and came behind her again, grabbing her treasured Liberty silk square and folding in into a panel. He tied it tightly around her head as a blindfold and there she was, in the dark again, alone with The Captain. He asked a simple, single question.

“Amelia, will you be a worthy subject of The Captain until you are given to another?”

She answered without hesitating, “Yes Captain.”

“Yes what?” he replied crossly.

“”Yes PLEASE Captain,” she continued humbly.

Initiation

He led her to the bed and arranged her with her arms above her head. Tying her wrists tightly with the now familiar ribbons he moved her along to let her bottom hang over the edge of the bed. He bound her upper body with thick satin cord. Her upper arms were tightly together and she could not move easily. He lifted her slightly to put a pillow beneath her knees and tied both ankles to the opposite feet of the bed, she could move them but the ropes were short and very strong with two loops around each ankle.

She could hear him removing his own clothing and kneeling behind her. She felt his fingers rubbing her buttocks and enjoying the silky fabric. He touched the tops of her legs and between her thighs. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe the position but she felt highly aroused. She wanted more than anything to prove her worth, to show she was capable of humbling herself and offering all her favours – she had decided that whatever he wanted she would give until she could not go any further. She felt him press his hard cock against her, recognizing the warmth of it and the smooth texture of the swollen glans. It was as though he was kissing her there, caressing her. It felt intimate and she liked that he was needy. She wished he would enter her but he did not.

A lone finger probed beneath the skirt and began to tease her tiny, neat anus. It was just the slightest touch to the edges and the area above and below in the crack of her bottom. She was already quivering and breathing hard. The feeling was electrifying and she spread her legs slightly. She could feel her anus pouting, raised like her nipples and it felt just great. The tip of his finger entered.

Suddenly she felt a hard and sudden slap between her legs. Her pussy was soaking wet. Alternately he would stimulate her anus with the head of his cock and her soaking lips with his palm and fingers. His hand rubbed her hard at the front. It felt forceful, it was slippery and she liked the feeling of being unable to resist, her hands tied above her head, her arms tightly bound. It was clever, the way he had knotted her, with the cord wrapped tightly and firmly on her skin. She wondered what it must have looked like.

He began to circle the very tip of her clitoris with one finger while another entered her bottom. It was making her dizzy, so mesmeric was this touch; the feeling of restriction, the darkness, the heat of her breath in the scarf and his voice. She was also tense as she felt vulnerable and brazen because he was coaxing her to push back on his finger in her bottom. It was slippery and easy and she felt his finger curl inside her too. In her bottom she thought something was building up and spilling from her, like a wet cum.

On her clitoris the touch was firmer. Her orgasm began with a rush of heat, from the small of her back, along her spine, into her shoulders and she lurched forward, jerking her hips and pressing his fingers hard against her swollen clitoris. His other finger was deep inside her bottom and she could alternate the pressure to extend the throes. She was calling, calling out in a guttural plea. There were no words, just noises, pleading, wishing, showing her cum to him.

He withdrew and she let her shoulders relax. Her perspiration was causing the silk scarf around her head to grip on her forehead and it was extremely tight, so she had to turn her head to catch a breath. She was stifling with the heat. Only the inside of her legs felt cool where she was now sodden, the clear cum dripping from her open pussy.

She hadn’t anticipated that he would slap her so when his hand hit home on her right buttock she yelled and cursed inappropriately. He thrashed her hard with his hand and then spread her legs wider and striped her with a cord. It felt wicked. It bit and she knew she would be sore. It really, really hurt. He whipped her for 20 strokes or maybe more and she could tell he was making sure to catch the soft skin of her inner thigh with the knot at the tip of the rope. There were tears. Her top lip was trembling.

“That hurt! It wasn’t fun. You bastard! It fucking hurt! I hate you! FUCK YOU!” she blurted…


….......................................................
.......................................................................................................

Maybe it was the champagne talking, her tongue was unguarded or the shred of confidence still left in her had blurred the lines but instantly she said it she regretted it. The room went silent. She waited. She waited some more. The scarf around her ears was slightly reducing her hearing but as far as she could tell he was still there. Then she heard him dressing, collecting his keys, putting on his coat. He was getting ready to leave. She was suddenly terribly afraid. Oh no!

“Captain I am so sorry! Don’t leave!” she pleaded. She realized it was hopeless, she was completely tied up. He had bound her forearms and her legs.

“Don’t leave me! Who will find me? This is supposed to be a fucking game! You bastard! When will you be back?”

The door closes.

Her first thought was to free herself but there was no way she could loosen her hands or move her fingers to reach the knots. She fought so hard it began to chafe her skin and rub. She tried to kick but the short ropes seemed fixed to the feet of the bed and the cord was strong. She bucked her body up and down but soon became exhausted. She tried on an off for what seemed like an hour, swearing and panting and wrestling with her bindings.

Finally, realizing she had made her hand very sore from trying to free it, she gave up and burst into tears. What a bastard! How had she got herself into this? What a humiliating, evil, pervert! What a criminal! She would get her lawyer and find him! Then a thought occurred to her, that the lawyer knew her Father and she would have to tell someone, however anonymously. She had volunteered FOR THIS. And her mind turned to who might discover her there. Oh the embarrassment!

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. She hushed. Who was that?
Behind the door the housekeeper’s voice said “Turn down service?” Then she knocked again.
Amelia cried out, “Not now, please!”
The maid acknowledged with a reluctant and knowing “Later then!” She was clearly well used to people declining her offer of a folded comforter and a chocolate on the pillow, in luxurious hotels, in beautiful central Amsterdam, on a grey Saturday afternoon.

Amelia was now really scared. He’d been gone for ages, an hour or more maybe? She knew eventually the staff would return and she simply couldn’t escape. Again she began to cry and this time, it was tears not of rage but of sadness, for her stupidity, her naivety, her discomfort. The bonds were really cutting off her circulation and it was starting to hurt. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear properly and it was hot. But worse, she also realized that she shouldn’t have drunk so much. She desperately needed to pee.

An hour later?

She did not know if she had slept, she didn’t think so but it now seemed he really was not intending to return. Her discomfort was intense and she had taken to breathing as deeply and slowly as she could to prevent herself from wetting the floor. The pressure in her belly was intense. It felt swollen. Then came a shock for which she was unprepared and she screamed out loud. She felt hands upon her once again and she nearly relieved herself right away… She felt they were his and she certainly hoped they were. She never heard him come in.

“Captain?” she asked but there was no response. Slowly and deliberately he began to undo her bindings. Each cord and ribbon. The bastard must have been in the room the whole time. He must have faked his exit. He would have seen her writhing and sobbing. He had ignored her. He had shown no mercy or affection or kindness. He had used her and then trapped her. She would have been more angry if she wasn’t simply grateful. She was just too desperate by now.

As he held her around her waist and stood her up, she pleaded softly. “Oh Captain, I’m so glad you’re here. I have to pee”” she muttered. He still said nothing. As he undid the scarf she could see her face in the mirror red and streaked with tears. She was gasping for air. But disappointment overcame her when she found her hands were somehow bound behind her back and her ankles too, quite tightly. She couldn’t walk.

“”Please Captain” she asked in as calm and normal a voice as she could muster. It was a vanilla voice. Her real voice. She meant it. This was not a joke. But he just sat down again in the armchair and said nothing.

“Please Captain I beg you…”she continued. She tried to show a willing and humble face.

“”I beg your pardon?” he replied indignantly.”

Oh no she thought, what a bastard! He’s not going to help! He won’t let me go to the bathroom!

“I beg you captain,” she said firmly and with some annoyance. “I need to pee””

He didn’t even acknowledge her.

She started to hop as though to make for the bathroom but he stood in front of the door, his arms folded, defying her. Besides, she was bound. She couldn’t fight him. She wanted to spit at him or bite him.

He took a cord and wrapped it round and around her tighter and tighter still, from head to toe. She started crying loudly and asked him to stop.

There was a knock at the door. “Turn down service?”
”Go away!” she yelled.
She hoped the maid couldn’t hear her crying. She might alert the Management.

Finally he turned her to look in the mirror. She watched him inspect her like a prison guard. She looked a broken, sad, tied, tired – an exhausted figure. The elegant, confident, ambitious Amelia who walked in that afternoon was gone. She had been made a victim and it hurt. She was finished, violated, humiliated; robbed of her dignity and her confidence. She was undone.

And then he spoke. Calmly, he said “So. Now. Now you may pee”

He pulled the armchair up in front of her and looked first into her crying eyes, then at the proud crease of her vagina beneath her sweet, pale blue silk satin skirt. He was going to make her wet herself! And he was going to wactch! The bastard! But she couldn’t hold on any longer and she had no will to fight back.

Amelia saw the dark, wet patch appear on the front of her skirt because the pee was forceful. She felt its warm wetness gush down the inside of her legs. She heard it on the ropes and on the carpet, making a puddle and soaking in. She felt it enter the grazes on her sore inner thighs where she’d been whipped and it began to sting the stripes. It was very, very stingy, actually unbearable and she cried with all her heart, like a small as he began to carefully and precisely free her from her bonds. Eventually she was fully released and sat on the bed with her head in her hands looking at the soaking patch on the floor in front of her. She sobbed and sobbed and could recall this experience for her very earliest childhood. This was her infancy, her cry for her mother in the dead of night. She cried until she had no breath and collapsed.

Turn down service!

She heard the tap at the door and the key in the lock. She must have fallen asleep. The room was dark. She cried out

“No! No thank you!”

But this time the maid had entered the room and switched on the light. Amelia was horrified.

“No!” she cried.

She did not want to be seen and hid her face on the bed cover.

”Please go,” she said firmly so the maid switched off the light and closed the door.

She leaned over and found the lamp. How desperately embarrassing to be caught in this mess, in these clothes, in this state! But when she switched on the light the room looked completely tidy. The Captain was gone. His ropes and ribbons gone. Her clothing was neatly folded and placed on the dressing table chair. Her bag and personal things carefully on one side. A towel had been laid neatly over the puddle she had made. She had been covered with the bed sheet. He was gone. It was over. She was relieved, tired, bewildered and did not know which part had been a dream and which a nightmare. What was reality and what was fiction?

She stumbled to the shower and ran the water as hot as hell. She climbed in and it stung her on her buttocks and between her legs. She could hardly touch her own skin. When she climbed out from the shower and stood before the mirror, she could she her thighs and bottom were striped red and raw. She got dressed, tenderly and tried to restore herself.

n her bag she saw another envelope. She opened it. 8 50 Euro notes – another 400 Euros. Did he think she was a ? He disgusted her! Or did she disgust herself? She didn’t recognize the girl she saw in the mirror at all. Where was that confident, eager Amelia who had entered in daylight? When she left the hotel it was dark and cold. She pulled the collar of her coast around her face imaging a scene from some old classic movie. Her thighs were chafing as she walked home. So this, this was what they meant by the 'dark side…'









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