The Training of Alexa Von Tess, Day One

Day one. Trainer starts with the inspection. Alexa kneels naked, wrists cuffed behind her, ankles hobbled by a short strap. Her answers stay short, barely above a whisper. She flinches when he brushes her hair aside and she can’t see what’s coming. The blindfold goes on anyway. She freezes for a second, breathing shallow, but stays put. Her pussy glistens. He files that away. Next the flogger lands across her tits, then her thighs. Each strike pulls a sharp whimper, hips rocking even though nothing’s inside her yet. A hard slap to the face. She moans, asks for another. He gives it. She thanks him, voice tight. He fingers her until she’s shaking, then pulls away just before the orgasm crests. Denied. She whines. The Hitachi comes next. One direct press on her clit and her whole body locks, muscles trembling hard enough to rattle the chains. He keeps it there after she comes. She tries to close her legs but the hobble keeps them spread. Too sensitive. Too much. Still he holds it until tears soak the blindfold. When he finally pulls it away her thighs are slick and shaking. He pushes her onto her back, legs up, ankles bound to the suspension frame. She’s spread wide, cunt and asshole presented. The plug goes in first, slow, steady, stretching her until her breathing turns ragged. Then his cock. She grunts when he drives deep. He slaps her face again, pulls her hair, chokes her until her mouth opens and he fills it. She swallows without being told twice. Later he asks what she feels. She can’t put words to it, but her body answers for her every time the lash lands. By the end of the session she’s sweating, marked, and still hooded. He writes one line in the log before he leaves her hanging: willing, but still learning how to speak her own hunger.