Pinto Joe led me up the stairs and halfway down the right hall to a door with a hummingbird totem attached.
“Her room,” he said, stating the obvious. His nerves were reacting to the situation.
He wiped his hands on his robe before turning the knob.
I followed him through the door into the spacious bedroom. It was bright and airy, utilizing lighter earth tones in browns, tans, and greens. And it was the only room I’d seen so far that had no cowboy décor mixed with the Native American motif. And hummingbirds played a major role in the theme.
The center wall was glass with double sliding doors giving access to the balcony. There was a door in the middle of the left wall leading to a bathroom, with dressers and shelves along the rest of the wall. And two large closets were on the right, along with a queen-size canopy bed centered against the wall. And sitting on the handcrafted bench at the foot of the bed was Waleli, with hands in her lap, wearing a shimmering green satin nightie with matching panties.
“You don’t mind if I watch?” asked Joe rhetorically, with a smirk.
Waleli turned her head in shame, and I knew it was time to set the boundaries.
“That’s enough of that!” I said.
Joe instantly glared at me, but not for long, because my stare was stone cold. And as soon as he averted his eyes the male in us knew who would forever be the Alpha. But his pride was stung, so he pushed back with the only leverage he felt he possessed.
“Don’t forget who’s paying you,” he said.
“Paying me for my specialty,” I said. “I am the Dominant, she is the submissive, and she will be trained by me and accountable to me, for I am the Master and she is the slave.”
“I’m her husband,” Joe said rather pathetically.
“A husband who practically begged me and now pays me, to train, punish, and fuck his wife.”
Joe turned away with eyes downcast. The boundaries were solidified. There was only one Alpha, one Master; now we could get to work.
“I will allow you to watch, but only if you obey my rules.”
Joe slowly turned towards me, a hint of a smile beginning.
“Show me the master bedroom,” I said.
“Right this way,” Joe said as he headed for the bathroom joining the two rooms.
The bathroom was much larger than assumed with a first glance. The counter was doubled up with his and her sinks and cabinets. It had a matching commode and bidet. It had a sunken tub, a separate glass enclosed shower, and a sauna.
First glance at the master bedroom and I recognized Joe’s personality throughout; dark woods with black metal accents, and varying shades of blue and grey in the carpet, curtains, upholstery, and linens. The king-size bed mirrored Waleli’s against the far wall; but it has two halves of a Conestoga wagon wheel as the headboard, and two smaller wagon wheels off an old buckboard connecting the bench to the foot of the bed.
There would definitely be a change of venue.
“Where are the props you mentioned?”
“In an equipment bag beside the bench Waleli is sitting on,” said Joe.
“Bring them here,” I said, and he immediately headed back the way we came.
He returned shortly thereafter with the bag.
“Place it on the bench,” I said. “Open it and stand aside.”
I casually approached the bag, moved things around to get a thorough idea of what was available, and then grabbed a couple of short ropes—the kind used to tie the legs while calf roping. I then pointed at the bed.
“You’ll watch from there,” I said. “With your back against the headboard.”
“Now wait a minute…”
“Shut the fuck up, obey me, or get the fuck out!” I said without raising my tone, while giving him the same hard stare that again made him avert his eyes.
He complied, and climbed atop the bed.
“May I have pillows for my back?”
“You may,” I said, as I moved toward him while he adjusted the two pillows. And when he settled into position I said, “Reach out and grab a spoke with each hand.”
I could see he wanted to resist, but another look at my eyes along with his eagerness to see his wife punished for betraying him quickly changed his mind. And I secured his wrists to the wagon spokes. The emotional turmoil was evident within him; but, truthfully, I didn’t care.
I was contracted to train, punish, and use Waleli in any manner I chose. There were no soft or hard limits written in the contract. And whether that was due to Joe’s ignorance of BDSM or his eagerness and need to see his adulterous wife suffer makes no difference. They both signed the contract giving me total control over her.
Fortunately, for Waleli, my newfound love for this recently chosen career path as a tribal disciplinarian, and now BDSM Master, means I will treat her with the highest standard of professionalism.
Moments later, as I stood before her, I sensed and observed the telltale signs of fear, shame, and guilt; and, though Waleli doesn’t know it, that combination of emotions makes my job easier.
Through impatience and curiosity she took quick glances in my direction. And so, the training begins.
“Unless I say otherwise, when you’re in my presence you will keep your eyes downcast at all times,” I said. “Is that understood?”
I stepped up to her, grabbed the back of her hair, and slowly but firmly tilted her head back.
“You will show me the utmost respect, obedience, and submissiveness at all times,” I said. “So when I ask you a question I expect an appropriate and respectful answer.” I then used my free hand to grab hold of her chin and tilt her head a bit more, so that she could look me in the eye. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir… Yes, Master… Yes, Master Sir.”
“You may use either Sir or Master,” I said while stifling a grin and letting go of her hair and chin. “And a single response is sufficient, but only when I specifically ask you a question.”
She began to raise her eyes to me, then immediately cast them down and raised her hand instead.
“I assume I need to raise my hand to speak.”
“You never assume anything,” I said. “You will address me with the appropriate Sir or Master to get my attention, and you will patiently wait for a response no matter how long it takes. Is that understood?”
“I realize this is new to you,” I said. “So I suggest you actively listen to me, since most of what I will say is for you to hear and absorb. And when I want you to do something I will say it clearly and loud enough for you to understand; and I urge you not to make me repeat myself. That tells me you did not give me your undivided attention, which is a sign of disrespect.” I placed two fingers beneath her chin and raised her head so she could see me. “And disrespect and disobedience will always receive a negative consequence; in other words… punishment. Do you understand?”
“The quicker you become an obedient, submissive, and respectful slave to me… and only me during these sessions and our relationship… the quicker you earn back rights and privileges. But at this moment, as a slave-in-training, you have no rights or privileges. You signed them over to me in the contract. Is that understood?”
“Good,” I said. “Rise, go through the bathroom, and stand near the foot of the bed, with your back facing the bed. And let me make this perfectly clear, do not speak or acknowledge your husband in anyway. And when I step foot in the bedroom you will immediately kneel before me—the only Master that you will obey when I am here. Is that understood?”
She nervously stood, keeping her hands clasped together and head down, then slowly walked toward the restroom.
I observed her from behind, and was glad to see her hesitate upon entering the master bedroom. She obviously didn’t expect to see her husband tied to the headboard. And when she stepped toward the bed with a deliberate pace, I knew it had accomplished what I intended. The hierarchy was firmly established in both their minds.
When she reached the foot of the bed and turned 180-degrees to face me, I was near the doorway. There was no need to hesitate, so I stepped into the room, and she quickly knelt down.
“Good girl,” I said, while stopping mere inches before her: invading her space, letting her know that her space belongs to me, as she belongs to me. “You will assume that position every time you come into my presence, unless otherwise specified.”
I cupped two fingers under her chin again, then traced my thumb gently around her lips. The unexpected tenderness caused her to close her eyes momentarily, inhale deep, and exhale slowly.
“Appropriate behavior earns positive responses,” I said. “Just as inappropriate behavior earns punishment.”
“It’s supposed to be all punishment,” said Joe. “She fucking betrayed me!”
“Don’t move,” I said calmly, while removing my fingers from Waleli’s chin. I then stepped up on the bench, stepped over the wheels onto the bed, and positioned myself directly above Joe. “There are several adult toys in the bag you brought, along with duct tape.” His eyes grew wide. “In other words, I’m sure I can shut you up if you cannot control your mouth.”
“I’ll be quiet,” he said.
“Then why do I still hear you?”
He shut his mouth tight, and shook his head.
“Don’t expect another warning,” I said. “I’ll just do it.”
He shook his head again, which I ignored as I returned to my position in front of Waleli.
I realized Joe needed an object lesson. He’s been a top dog on the rez’ so long that he’s too used to others accepting his word as gospel. But his lack of prowess behind closed doors with his young wife makes his outbursts nothing more than a hindrance to the goal he’s paying me for.
I focused on Waleli.
“You have a long list of infractions to be punished for,” I said. “And since I’m doing the punishing it’s in your best interest to stay on my good side by keeping me relaxed and satisfied.”
I grabbed a fistful of her hair and tilted her head back and looked her in the eyes.
“It’s time to show your Master how well you suck cock,” I said, then pushed her head to within an inch of my crotch. “Free it and begin fellatio now.”
I tightened my grip on her hair, expecting her to hesitate, but was pleasantly surprised when she immediately loosened my belt, unsnapped and unzipped my jeans, and pulled both jeans and shorts down to my knees.
She grabbed hold of my semi-erect member and stuffed it in her mouth. The image reminded me of those hotdog eating contests you see on the sports channel. And like some of those contestants she gagged bad enough to bring a tear to her eye, and had to extract the appendage while regaining her composure.
I wasn’t sure if her youthful exuberance reflected her desire for cock, her wish to please me enough to ease the punishment she knew was coming, or an attempt to make her husband jealous. Perhaps it was a combination of all three. But as the Master I could not allow the situation to go unchecked.
[Continued in Part Three]
[Black Wolf Intro here.]
[Black Wolf: First Client Part One here.]
[All Black Wolf segments are excerpts from a book in progress.]