I’m staring at the clock on my wall watching it tick deliberately. It’s 10:04. She was instructed to be here four minutes ago.
*Knock knock knock*
The sound of her knuckles against the door reverberates through my apartment. I whip out my phone and quickly type a short message.
“This tardiness cannot be tolerated. Strip down to your bra and thong and wait for me in the hallway.”
How did I know what undergarments she was donning this late evening? Every night of The Training comes with detailed instructions and this night was no different.
I turn the sound up on the basketball game I am watching. Two minutes left in the fourth quarter.
My phone dings. “Yes, sir.” it reads.
You ever realize how many commercials they jam in during the last two minutes of a basketball game? I can tell you for sure, two commercial breaks with four 30 second spots each. The game ends with a missed three pointer that would have sent it to overtime. Sometimes you get lucky.
I lumber over to the door and turn the handle. Immediately outside she stands in a low-cut lacy red bra and an infinitesimally small black satin thong. I can see a hint of the outline of her hard nipples as I look her up and down. She must not have expected to spend much time in the chilly hallway. I wink at leering Mr. Murphy, who had his day brightened while on a late night trip to the trash chute, and usher her inside along with the remainder of her clothes left on the hallway floor.
She saunters into the living room and instinctively knees on her pillow positioned just before my sofa and waits patiently. I retire briefly to the bedroom to make a selection from my bag of tricks. I return, approach her from behind, rest my left had firmly at the base of her neck and ask her to open her mouth. I slip a rather large shiny black silicone ball gag into her mouth and tightly clasp the straps behind her head. Within minutes she is visibly struggling to hold back her drool.
“Let it out. You are going to be here for a while.”
The first drop of drool slithers down her chin and falls softly onto her chest before descending between her breasts. I slip a small phone controlled bullet vibrator out of my pocket and precariously perch it within her shoestring width thong and press it firmly against her clit. She was dripping wet, and not just because of the drool that began to dampen her bra.
“You were four minutes late so you must endure four minutes of this. Don’t let it fall and, most importantly, don’t cum.”
With a flick of my thumb the vibrator lurched to life. Her face twinged instantly in joyous agony. Her shoulders slumped forward and her abs contracted and she tried to contain the pleasure. Drool from her gag splashed against the hardwood floor.
Perhaps her mandated pre-Training edging sessions were going to make this more difficult. Those pesky instructions.
Two and a half minutes. Her face is beet red and she is moaning aggressively. I flip over to the next setting on the vibrator and reach for the pair of shears on the nearby coffee table. As she rocks back and forth under the influence of her pleasureable pain I lift the clasp of bra towards me and make a decisive cut. The straps of her bra slack down to her elbows revealing her eminently perky and glistening breasts. This sends her close to the edge and her desperate panting quickens. Frantically squealing into the gag, presumably begging for permission to cum, her eyes are squared focused on me. I look down and flip off her vibrating companion at the stroke of four minutes. After all, punctuality is important.
The Training continues.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/h8mg2s/the_training_punctuality_mf_part_2
Luv the piece, sir (assuming so?) and cannot stop myself from offering the alternative perspective. Please enjoy-
“Ding”, the elevator finally approached the 10th floor. Shifting weight anxiously between my feet, I look at my phone – 10.04pm. Damn it, I’m a bit late. As soon as the elevator door opens, I jump out and sprint towards the unit I was supposed be at 4 minutes ago.
Knock, knock, knock. I hit the door while I was still out of breath from the anxiety of being late. Anticipating the door to open at any moment, Buzzzzz — a text came into my phone. It was from him.
“This tardiness cannot be tolerated. Strip down to your bra and thong and wait for me in the hallway.”
What? This is an apartment complex with at least 10 units on this level, 10.04pm is not so early! Anyone could be coming out into the hallway now! I hesitated, but at the same time, I understand, deeply, the rules from just my first training – orders must be followed. After taking a deep breath, hoping that no one else would be coming out at this time, I pulled down the shoulder straps of the thin black silk dress that I was instructed to wear, and let gravity slowly pull down the dress from my body.
The doorway is getting rather chilly as I am cooking down from my sprint. What’s taking him so long? This minute feels like a century long – and then I hear the turning of a doorknob. “Whew” as I let out a relief sigh “and no!” – not the turning of the particular doorknob I was expecting! A mid-aged man, 5 units down, walked out of his door to take out trash. “Who the fuck takes trash out at this time?” I can feel my blood immediate rushed towards my cheeks. The stranger, saw me in a thin red bra and a scandalously tiny black thong, paused for a second as his eyes lingered on my bofy. “Oh, fuck me.” I thought to myself, my heart almost came to a pause, “please do not say anything.” The chilling air is sending goosebumps over my arms and is hardening my nipples. It definitely is the cold air, nothing else. Emotionally, I feel such great embarrassment and shame; however, as I stand in front of this currently closed door while being gazed at by a complete stranger, I can feel a tingle going down my spine – all the way down, lifting the dam gate for a flood to run down. I AM dripping wet.
“Please do not make a comment,” as I am thinking this, I see the heavenly turn of the doorknob in front of me. “Thank God! Thanks for getting me out of the situation” I exclaimed in my heart as I he pulls me into his apartment, completely ignoring the fact that he’s the one that puts me in this situation. In this brief moment, I saw his eyes – what’s usually a light crispy blue, but more like a deep sea brewing a tsunami this time. Gosh, I know how he hates when people are not punctual!! What punishment am I going to face tonight? That mere thought sent a shiver through my body. Intimidated and uncertain of my future tonight, an obscure excitement sprouts from this hotbed of emotions. I have to bite down my lips so hard to stop a moan from slipping out of my mouth before the door closes. That poor neighbor guy has got enough view for one night, and let’s not stimulate him further.
After entering his apartment, habitually (wait, habitually? This is only the second time to my training!), I walk towards the couch, kneel down on the thin pillow in front of it, and start wondering what is going to happen next. We have not exchanged a word so far, but I can feel the tension in the air and the waves of tides that are surging within me.
Shortly, my neck was grasped firmly. “Open your mouth.” The first line I hear from him tonight, and it is a firm order. I never understood why I receive such joy from being commanded by him, but I just don’t need to know the reason. Why am I still thinking? I already think too much during daytime and am too Type A at work. Wouldn’t it be great to just let him take over my body and my mind and order me what to do? Whimpering, obediently, I opened my mouth, and opened up some more to accommodate for the size of the gag ball he’s shoving into my mouth. From this point on, I’ve compeletly let go, lost control of my mind, lost control of my body. Please, sir, let me be a slave of yours, and let me be a slave of lust and pleasure.
As he slipped a bullet vibratos into my thong and pressed it tightly against me, I can feel half of my soul has exited my body and isbjustbfloating in the air with an omniscient view of what’s going on. That half soul can clearly see the dilation of my pupil. Have you seen the engine manifold when the driver presses NOS in Fast and Furious? That is what’s happening to me – he pressed a button, and a spark, resulting from him pressing the NOS button, quickly travels through all of my blood vessels and ignites every inch of my body. I let out a deep airy moan, rooting from the abdomin area, crawling up through the vocal cords, coming out as a resonance of my throat and nose.
My knees remain on the floor while saliva droop from my mouth – from each of the mouths up here and down there. While objectively, my reason is telling me that it really has not been that long, subjectively, I have completely lost the sense of time or self. The only thing I can feel and think about is a perpetual sweet pain. The closest instrument I can describe myself as at this point is a bagpipe – I intake air, such air vibrates my vocal cord, resulting in various tones of painting and moaning. The buildup from being exposed to a stranger in the hallway to knowing that he’s closely scrutinizing every inch of my body behind his glasses, with the physical stimulation of maybe hours or maybe just minutes (I have no clue) has pushed me so close to the edge. If anything I have learned from my previous training session, it is to ask for permission. Gosh, I wish I can beg him to let me cum, but I simply cannot with the gag ball in my mouth! Gosh, i hope i can convey that hope clearly through my eyes as I look up to his eyes from his feet!
And there stops the vibrator. He stopped it before I I able to climb to the top of the mountain. I can see the tease in his eyes – “That was just for your tardiness.” He bent down and whispered at my ear, “this night is still very young and we’re just about to begin.”