Sarah sat and waited for him, lips pursed as she nervously sipped her coffee, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Her auburn curls spilled down over her tight clothing. She had dressed as he’d instructed: ‘show cleavage, but don’t draw too much attention to yourself’. Her petite frame was in a smart black trouser suit and a simple tight white cotton top, cut low enough for him to be happy.
Sarah had seen him before, spoken to him many times, but this would be their first face to face meeting.
‘What was she doing here?’ she thought to herself. Meeting a man from the internet for sex. Should she just leave?
“Hello Sarah.”
She jumped before looking around to see him standing next to her.
“Hello,” she said, trying to stay calm.
He took a seat next to her and they talked. Although their conversation was quite different from the ones they were used to. There wasn’t a mention of anything pink, fluffy, or girls with charmingly low IQ whatsoever. She talked nervously, her eyes dancing between his and the table top, as they made small talk. At one point she found herself animatedly agreeing that people who spit in public should be rounded up and sent to evening classes to learn manners, before sharing a loud uninhibited laugh.
“Yes!” she squealed, slapping the table, before putting a hand to her mouth.
He smiled and glanced down at her chest.
“Great boobs,” he said casually.
“Oh thanks,” she said, looking down and feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.
They went back to talking, their conversation as normal as before, however every so often he would quietly throw in a comment which was entirely out of place. Phrases like: ‘how can you not know that you dumb bitch?’ and ‘no, that’s not what I mean you stupid cunt!’
He uttered these phrases quietly enough so that only she could hear, but his tone made her sit up all the same.
After about forty minutes he looked at his watch and stood up.
“I’m going home. Want to come?” he asked.
This was what she’d thought about for so long. If she joined him there would be no going back.
“Okay,” she heard herself calmly say, as the knot of anticipation in her stomach tightened further.
They walked the short distance from the coffee shop to his flat, and she followed him to the sitting room in a dream like state. She looked around: plush sofas, thick carpet, a widescreen TV on the wall. Minimalist luxury.
He motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa which she duly did, sitting down and smiling at him nervously.
Was this really going to happen? she thought. Was she really going to be ‘trained’ by a man she’d met online? It just didn’t seem real.
“Would you like a tour?” he asked.
She nodded in reply: “Hmmm, hmmm,” was all she managed, nerves catching her tongue.
He slowly reached over and grabbed a fistful of hair.
“This way,” he said, as he dragged her out of the sitting room and into the kitchen.
“What room do you think this is?” he asked.
“The kitchen,” she gasped.
“Good girl Sarah! And do you want a drink?”
“Um… not now,” she stammered.
“I think you should have one.”
He walked over to the sink, grabbed a bowl and filled it from the tap.
“Drink,” he ordered, placing the bowl on the counter and forcing her head down towards it.
She did as she was told, awkwardly stabbing her tongue towards the water, feeling helpless and absurd, the butterflies in her stomach now in full flutter.
“Good girl,” he said, putting the bowl on the floor. “We’ll leave it here for later.”
He pulled her down the corridor to the bathroom. His hand never jerked, and instead his movements were slow and controlled.
“This is where we clean ourselves. Are you clean?”
“Yes,” she stammered, suddenly nervous about meeting his standards.
In a matter of seconds the situation now felt very real indeed. She was going to be trained. She was going to become a sex toy. It had already started.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/hyr8xm/sarahs_sex_toy_training_part_1
Holu shit ?
Toitt?
Good stuff
Very hot!