It was late in the day when she arrived at the resort since the flight was 30 minutes late and there was the usual line at the rental car counter. None of the vagaries of travel affected her much, though - she was mostly focused on her keynote address, rehearsing it over and over in her mind. Her professional society was meeting for the next few days at a lovely Caribbean resort, and she was looking forward to the kind of intellectual challenge that only her peers could provide. And, to be truthful, she was ready for long evenings with a drink in hand, relaxing by the pool with old colleagues.
As she registered at the front desk, she was mentally reviewing the finer points of her speech when it happened again - a barely formed thought at the edge of her awareness intruded. It wasn’t even really a thought - it was a distracting feeling centered around Him. She thought of him that way - not by name, not by title, and with the capital H, and all of it disturbed her deeply. He was part of her professional society, but in a different specialty and she didn’t know him well. She found him pleasant enough but vaguely condescending in a way that irritated her, especially because her nipples tightened at the thought of him… or, rather, Him. She hoped she’d see very little of him during the conference.
That evening she had her first meeting with some of her colleagues, and as the rush of activity began she kept her thoughts under control and focused. The next morning she spent extra time on her appearance, getting ready for her speech. She felt in her professional element as she arrived in the hall and walked up to the podium to set up her presentation. Before she knew it, there she stood in front of hundreds of her friends and colleagues, ready for her moment. She was halfway through her speech when, looking out at the audience, she saw Him. He was looking at her levelly across the room with a neutral expression, but she instantly felt her face grow hot and - how embarrassing! - a telltale slickness between her legs. To her credit, she recovered with a slight cough, finished her talk, and reveled in the long applause.
That evening, exhausted from a long day of presentations and meetings, she stood at her hotel room door fumbling with the card key. She barely had time to react when she felt a warm presence just behind her and a hand over hers, guiding the card key through the slot. The door opened and as she stepped forward into the room she suddenly found herself pinned face first against the wall, feeling warm breath against her ear and hearing Him say in a calm, low voice, “I trust baby has put her collar in its proper place.”
She was suddenly infuriated and struggled for release, but he smoothly moved a hand to the thick hair at the nape of her neck and firmly, almost aggressively, pulled her head far back. She was mortified to feel her nipples harden and smell the warm musky scent of her own wetness. She closed her eyes in shame, thinking about how she had slipped the black leather collar into a plastic ziploc bag as he had instructed, along with a lipstick and a small bottle of lube. She had felt such annoyance that she was obeying him as she slid the bag into her purse, but nothing prepared her for the humiliation she felt at the airport security screening when she lay the bag out for the agents to inspect. At that moment she had promised herself never to be alone with him again.
Now, however, he was holding her hair with a tightened grip and she was acutely aware of her exposed and vulnerable neck. He slid his leg between her knees and kicked her feet apart, then slowly moved his free hand down her back and over the curve of her buttocks. She felt a heavy warmth spreading through her pelvis, and she tried to resist the urge to moan at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into her ass. She tried to escape him again but he tugged hard enough at her hair to bring tears to her eyes, and he said calmly, “Today you performed ably in front of hundreds showing skills that clearly show you’re destined to become our next President. Congratulations on your tour-de-force … …. But now, tonight’s performance will settle whether you’re ready to be my slut.” He released her and started across the room. Over his shoulder he said, “ Now strip and assume the position you were to have practiced.”
His casual command somehow spoke to something deep within her body, bypassing her mind altogether. She obeyed him soundlessly, removing her clothes but leaving on thigh-high black stockings and black heels. Her body knew exactly how to position itself - kneeling with legs spread and arms raised, hands at the back of her head. Her lower back arched and her mouth opened, tongue slightly extended - all her parts were opened, presented, and ready for Him. She heard him approaching and felt a wave of erotic anticipation… would he touch her? Was the curve of her back correct? Would he reach down to test her wetness? She heard him approach and forgot herself enough to glance up at Him, but regretted it instantly when he wordlessly slapped her face. She dropped her gaze, cheek stinging, and felt another wave of desire surge through her. It was then he stepped closer, gently swept her hair over her shoulder, and she felt the fine leather collar fasten around her neck - just a bit too tight.
That moment entered her mind later… much later. Two, maybe three days had passed and she had not left the room nor even thought of the world outside it. She was again on her knees before Him, a short training leash now attached to her collar. She instantly responded to his quiet instructions and corrections as she licked and sucked his beautiful cock, opening one of her warm, wet holes for his use. It can’t exactly be said that she remembered the moment he collared her - it was more an impression forming in the haze of her mind. She, the professional at the top of her career - was a body in service to Him, and her own need for his cock and hands and tongue had intensified into an erotic fog which consumed her even while he focused her attention. She knelt before Him, makeup smeared, hair tangled, her thighs and tits and face slick with cum and saliva, her drooling mouth stretched around his cock, whimpering with need - the need to be fucked and owned with his cock and eyes and tongue… and especially to hear Him say, “Good girl. Good baby. Cum for your Daddy.”
YBG says: I love when the Easter Bunny brings me stories like this! Thank you, thank you! xo