Page 41 of Marek

It feels like lately, he’s not interested in me at all.

“What are you doing?” I protest as he places me down on my feet and then goes rummaging through a closet, looking for something.

He turns toward me, ropes in hand, and then orders me to follow him. I have absolutely no idea what it is he’s doing, but when we get back to the tent, he barks at everyone to leave. Still standing there, shaking my head in confusion, I watch as he lowers the anchor from the ceiling and straps me to it. I’m usedto the body brace by now, but I still don’t know what it is he’s expecting me to do.

He doesn’t lift me into the air, instead, he takes the ropes he got from his RV and starts tying them to the brace. Confused, I watch as he brings one side of the rope down and ties it to my ankle, then he moves and does the same on the other side. Then, with one swift pull of the remaining rope, my legs fly apart. He raises me up, just a little, and brings my legs out into the split position until I’m hanging there, my body supported but my legs are his to control.

“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp, as my legs lift slightly higher than my hips.

“Stretching you.”

“No shit,” I gasp, as my ligaments stretch and ache. “It hurts.”

“It won’t for long.”

“I fail to see how because this...”

I’m forced to stop when he secures the rope to a pole nearby and then he’s in front of me, fingers hooking into my leotard and pulling it to the side, exposing my pussy. I gasp, squirming in my restraints, but there isn’t a single thing I can do to stop him. Not that I want to, but this isn’t where I saw this going.

“Marek,” I say, my voice breathy.

“Master,” he grinds out, sliding his finger down my slick pussy. “Wet. Always wet.”

Swallowing, my legs ache, but I quickly forget about it when he slips a finger in, gently dragging it in and out, tormenting me. Moaning, I try to tip my hips so he fucks me deeper, but he won’t give me anymore than he already is. In and out, he teases and taunts, curling his finger inside me to rub against my sweet spot.

“Mar...Master,” I breathe. “Please.”

“You hold this position for ten minutes, I’ll reward you.”

Ten minutes?

Groaning, I close my eyes and just enjoy the feeling of his finger sliding in and out, and not the intense pain in my legs and hips. My body isn’t used to being stretched like this, even though I’m a dancer, but if this is what he plans on doing daily, it won’t take long for it to adjust. I could think of worse ways to train.

He fucks me slowly with his fingers until I’m on the edge of orgasm, desperate, squirming, pleading with him for more.

He doesn’t give me more.

Minute by aching minute he teases me, until finally, the ten minutes is up.

“Good girl, Ellie Mae,” he murmurs, removing his finger from my depths and bringing it to his mouth. “Now you will be rewarded.”

I expect him to fuck me, but he doesn’t.

He releases the ropes just enough so my legs aren’t straining but are still spread, and then his mouth is between my legs. Wickedly, he laps at my pussy, holding my leotard open with one finger as he devours me. I don’t even try to hold back my screams, pleasure has been floating on the surface for the last ten minutes and my body is shamefully ready for release.

It doesn’t take long.

The moment he takes my clit between his teeth and rolls it slightly, I come undone.

I shudder and moan as the most intense orgasm rips through my body.

Everything goes limp as he licks every last shudder from me.

Then, he steps back, his eyes meeting mine before he turns and lowers me down.

“This is how we’ll train from now,” he murmurs, and I can see his cock straining in his jeans.

“Does that have a part in all this?” I whisper, nodding in the direction of his groin.

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