I love hotel rooms. The space is so neutral, not filled with the everyday baggage that pervades your own home.
The room we stayed in for my birthday was all of this; and also spacious and luxurious, a place to stretch out and enjoy. We were meant to be packing up, but we ended up side by side on the sofa. Me stretched out on my stomach along the chaise longue, Perrin sitting alongside me on the rest of the sofa. We talked, about what we’d done during our short break and what we’d not had time for. We were relaxed, happy.
I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes as we talked.
“I’m going to go to sleep” I admitted. I listened to Perrin move around the room,
“No you’re not”.
Whack. The riding crop fell sharply. I gasped. There were four measured strokes. I opened my eyes, no longer feeling in the least sleepy. He ordered me to roll over, and he dealt out the same punishment on the other side. Only then did he order me to undress and kneel over the end of the chaise longue.
I knelt on the floor, eyes closed, body resting comfortably on the sofa, as he prepared my butt plug. I heard him running water and wondered. I didn’t have to wait long, he brought it over, and I felt him press it against me, so warm I was startled. I relaxed, letting him push it into me, revelling in the feeling of it nestling inside me. Then he began to beat me again, I remained in position while he cropped me. Concentrating on remaining still.
Then he fetched the heavy wooden paddle. “I’m going to give you four strokes with this” he told me sternly “and I want you to count them”.
The first blow was intense, I collapsed back down onto my heels, hands still resting on the sofa. I was surprised to realise I was sobbing. I heard his voice through the haze.
“Resume your position” I pushed myself up back over the sofa, still unable to speak. I remained there struggling for composure until I was able to form the required word. “One”.
The second blow was softer than the first. I held still, gasping for air until I uttered a broken “Two”.
The third stroke burned fiercely. I was determined not to test Sir’s patience too far, so I struggled to offer an unsteady “Three”.
The fourth stroke was harsh, I sobbed fiercely, but murmured with relief “Four”.
Perrin’s voice was gentle as he told me I was a good girl. Then he allowed me to recover, before joining him on the bed. I gathered myself, and went to him, and was snuggled in his arms before we made love. The butt plug heightened the sensations and we came together; a crashing wave of pleasure that washed away leaving us totally spent. We dozed then, nestled together, my head resting on his shoulder until we awoke enough to make love again.
I love hotels.