A Training Story

The doorbell rang.  He checked the clock, and put down his book.  She was on time this time.  Last week she had been 13 minutes late, and he had left her standing outside for half that more, before opening it hear her excuse.   She had gotten caught by a train.  He had listened to story, and then had sent her away.  They hated that.  But they knew beforehand, that they had a 10 minute window.  As it was her first time, she begged and pleaded, afraid that he would not train her now.  He had just closed the door.  After two days of begging e-mails, he finally told her to return again, one week from her missed appointment.  And she would pay a penalty.  He sent no more, even though she sent a couple of more e-mails of apology, and then humble thank you for his acceptance.

He looked thru the peephole.  Late 30s, buxom, but a lovely face, contorted with worry, and maybe a little fright.  He left her standing there for 10 minutes, enjoying her furtive glances around, and silent pleading for the door to open.  To her credit, she stayed still, and didn’t re-ring the bell this time.  He wouldn’t get to add to her demerits.

Finally, he opened the door, and said.  “Hello, what can I do for you?”  

“I…I came to see you.”  She said in a lovely voice, but just over a whisper.

“Speak up girl,” he said.  “And why did you come to see me?”   He watched as the emotions played across her face. 

She glanced about nervously before saying.  “I…I’ve come…”  another quick glance behind her.  “for my tttraining.”  She got out.  You could tell she was concerned how thick the walls of the apartments were. 

He gave her no quarter; this was part of her punishment for missing her first appointment.  He knew the doors blocked sound much more poorly than the walls.  Besides, the girl next door had already been thru his training, to her older live-in partner’s delight.  And the elderly lady downstairs was near deaf.  To bad for that.  He’d had recently trained a just septuagenarian, and had enjoyed it as much as the younger ones.  She still came back from time to time, to thank him.  She said his results, were much better than Viagra, for her new husband.  But there was also a new family in the apartment besides the widower.  A wife in her mid thirties, and a nice teen daughter.  Maybe they would hear.  Maybe by the time he finished with her mother, the girl would be of age.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”  He said too loudly.  “Training?  What kind of training.”  He heard a stifled giggle from next door.  So had she, and her eyes grew to saucers, and a severe blush rushed over her face and neck.  He wondered how much farther it extended.  He would find out shortly.

She looked at him pleadingly.  He just stared into her eyes, finally giving an exaggerated questioning tilt to his head, though there was none on his face.

She looked aghast at the door to his right, and then glanced back down the stairs.   Then she turned back to him, but his eyes just bored into hers with the message.  Yes, you must.

“I’ve come for my sex training.”  She said it firmly, though not near as loud as he had been. 

“That’s not what I do, and nor what you want.  Tell me again, correctly this time.”  He said.

You could see the turmoil and anger on her face.  But after only seconds he could see her remember what it had been like when she thought that she had ruined her chance on her first attempt,  and the relief and joy, when she got the e-mail of another chance.  Her face changed to one of determination. 

“I’ve come for my slut training.”  She said in a full voice.  Her modesty kept it from being a shout.

“Well done, dear.  There is a penalty for making such a poor start.”  He said.  “You will undress here in the hall.  Completely.  So STRIP.”

The panic was back in her eyes.  Her head swept the hall, and then the full wall of windows at the back of the stairs.  But she knew she had to comply.  It just made the resulting blush that much deeper in her shame.  She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it to the floor.  I was right the blush covered her upper chest, and though lighter, disappeared under the edge of her brassiere.   She fumbled with the catch of her slacks, she was shaking so hard.  She started to push them down, and as they cleared her panties, there was the click of a lock, and her eyes darted to my right.  There was also a restrained moan.  I recognized it as one of penetration from the next door.  I could imagine two eyes in the crack of the door.  One high and one lower.  It brought a tight smile to my lips.  She didn’t know the history, and wouldn’t recognize the sound as I had.  She might even figure it was a boy and his father peeking out at her.  Now her blush couldn’t have been deeper, if she had used maroon paint.

She realized then that the longer she took to undress the longer she would endure the prying eyes.  She snapped the pants down and off her legs, taking her shoes with them.  She hadn’t even kicked them away, before she was reaching for the back of her bra.  She shucked out of it quickly, and reached for her panties, and flung them down and off, almost falling, and having to grab the wall to catch herself.  There were muffled rhythmic pants to my right.  Obviously someone’s hand was stuffed in someone’s mouth. 

Realizing what she had to do, she stood straight, hands at her side.  He nodded, and stepped back, and waved her into the room.  As he closed the door, he heard another door bang shut and rattle violently.  He smiled, he wasn’t the only one that had enjoyed his new slut’s humiliation.  He turned and saw a girl before him, biting her lip.  Obviously, she didn’t like the idea of all her clothes left in the hall for all to see.  He just turned and walked to the living room, and sat in his favorite chair.  She followed.

She couldn’t figure out what to do, or where to stand.  He let her glance around the room.  She saw nothing out of the ordinary, unless she thought about the number of cabinets instead of bookcases normally found.  Her eyes settled on the long coffee table, linear to his chair.  On it were several papers.

Finally, he looked up into her eyes.  “Kneel by the table, knees wide, and hands behind your back.”  He said.

Despite having stripped in near public, and standing naked in a stranger’s apartment, she hesitated, like it was beyond her ability to cope.  Slowly she approached the table, and lowered herself to her knees.  Her hands went to the small of her back, one clasping the other.  You could see her brain fighting with her muscles as she slowly parted her knees, but no nearly far enough.  He let her be for nearly a minute, to think she had done ok.

“Now dear,” He said as he lifted his eyes to hers.  “I said knees wide, not just parted.”  He said it without command or malice, like a mother telling her child; of course you have to do you homework.

Slowly, biting her lip again, the knees slid farther apart.  She watched him for a signal, but he gave her none.  When her knees were just short of straining, he spoke.

“This is the position you will take whenever you enter my presence.”  He told her.  “Of course, you will always be naked here.  You will also assume this position any time I tell you to kneel.  Here, or in public.  Clothed or naked.”  You could see her obvious wince at the words public, clothed or naked.  “Do you understand?”  He could tell she was still focused on ‘public’.  It took a few seconds to realize that a question had followed.

“Yes.”  She said, it was almost a whisper.  “Wwill I bbe nnnnakeddd in pppubblic?”

“You did not address me properly.”  Do you wish to try again, or just let that stand? 

She gave a sharp intake of breath and blurted out.  “Yes Sir. Sorry, Sir.  I understand this is the position I will assume when I enter your presence, Sir.”

“In that case, I shall let it pass. This once.  But do not forget again.  You will address all males as Sir, and Sir must be used each time you speak.  And as for being naked in public…….yes, you well may be.”

He watched as her mouth gaped for long seconds.  The internal struggle was interesting to watch, he thought for a minute she would make an objection, or bolt from the room.  But finally, she closed her eyes and then her mouth.  Slowly she opened her eyes again.  There was a hint of tears in them, but she didn’t speak, just blinked several times to try to clear them.  She waited for him to speak again.

“It is time we covered the basics of your training.”  He began.  “I believe you now have a better idea of what is ahead, but beside you are the rules and requirements of your training.  There is also a contract, agreeing to be trained, and releasing yourself to me for the purpose of your training, and agreeing to any means thereof, and use of your body for said purpose.  I want you to pick them up and read them now.“

Despite what she had been through, and what she wanted, she was still terrified of reading the papers.  Would they contain things that she couldn’t handle or be able to do.  Would the contract bind her to him forever, or to do horrible things.  Slowly she started to reach for the documents, but stopped at the noisy clearing of his throat.

“You should acknowledge it, when given any command or instruction.  Your ‘Yes Sir’ tells me that you understand and agree to perform said command.”  He said 

“Yes Sir, Sorry Sir, I will remember that in the future.”  When he said nothing further, she picked up the first document.  I was the contract.  She read it over slowly.  The first part covered her agreeing to the training as a sexual submissive; the payment for training, and her purchasing agreement.  As it continued with a statement agreeing to full sexual use (three orifaces specified) and the acceptance of corporal and other punishments and bondage.  She started to sweat, and breathe more slowly, and deeply.    She pretty much figured that, but seeing it in black and white, and knowing she would have to initial and sign, made it more terrifyingly real.  Next, it gave the trainer, him, the right to present her to others during her training.  That stopped her, and she reread it twice.  She looked up at him and swallowed the thick lump in her throat.  Slowly, she returned to the contract.

There was a clause, agreeing not to prosecute the trainer or any of his designees.  And another forbidding her to talk to anyone about any aspect of her training, or the identity of any of those she was trained by.  There was another about being given temp jobs, for which she would turn over all of the income.  That seemed unfair, and also a little frightening.  Obviously, the job would somehow be linked to the being given to others part.  She slowly rationalized that a real slaves would work for nothing anyway.  Finally, there was an attachment, her questionnaire, listing her experience, and level of desires for all of the activities available.  She skimmed it, wondering if she had listed too few limits, and let out too many of her fantasies.

His signature was already on the left.  But she was curious as to why there were two signature lines on the right with her name typed below both?.   And why were there three copies? 

She lay down the document, and picked up the rules. 

The first few rules had been covered. 

Strip and present immediately upon arrival.  

Address him and all males as Sir, and to use it in each response. 

And to limit her ability to talk, except in response, or after begging for permission first.

Then the new ones, 

She was forbidden slacks.  Only skirts or dresses, regardless of when or where.  She could wear short shorts for yard work, if they were approved, and could get permission for jeans on an individual basis, like an outing with her daughter.  She would never wear bra and panties, when coming to see him, and that on certain days at any time.  No bra on Mondays, and Fridays.  No panties on Wednesday.  And neither on Sunday, or upon any day he so decreed.

She would  report 3 days a week to the apartment for her training.  The time of arrival, and departure would be discussed and set, to not interfere with her home duties.  (she hoped that meant she could be home by the time her daughter got home on the bus)   But other time would be required at the command of her trainer.  She would keep him apprised of her availability.

She would always thank her trainer for any attention he gave her.  Be it sexual use, punishment or what ever. 

She would be given assignments, some reading, some written, some of other types.  She would complete them honestly, completely and on time.

That she would be given a safeword.  But if she used it, some other sort of type of punishment might occur as a replacement.  And if she used it frivolously, it might be denied for an appropriate period.  She looked up.

He gave her a few minutes to digest what she had read.  Then he addressed her

“Are you prepared to sign the contract, and live up to all of the conditions.”  He said.  Slowly, she nodded her head.  He waited.  It took long seconds before she got the point.

“Yes, Sir.”  She said.  He gently took her chin, and lifted it slowly till she met his eyes.

“I will not allow you to disappoint me.”  He said. 

“Move to the end of the table and kneel up to it, then, bend over the table and place the contract in front of you with the pen beside it.”  He waited while she complied.

“You are to read the contract out loud.”  He continued.  “You will then ask for permission to sign it.  When accepted, you will initial all the places indicated and sign all three copies on the top line only.  Once you have signed, the contract will be consummated.  Since you failed in you first attempt to visit, instead of priming your cunt, I will be lubing your ass, as you read.”

Her head snapped up, and a small cry escaped her lips.  He just stared back at her with out emotion and continued.  “When you have finished signing, you will beg for your use.  You will ask in as many various ways as you can think of, using the most graphic terms.  I will not consummate the agreement, until I am satisfied with your sincerity, and terminology.  Then during the act, you will continue, by telling me how much you want it, how much you want it fully or harder, how glad you are to receive it, and how it feels, again, using graphic terms.  Do you understand?

She was still staring back into his eyes.  But now her mouth was opened, and her eyes, again, like saucers.

“Or you may go out the door, dress and never return.”  He said.

Her mouth snapped closed.  He knew that by the time his trainees got to this point, he was sure that not getting the training, was worse than the fears they all got at this point.  He had never had one not sign.  He screened them too well beforehand. They were reaching their sexual peaks. They were mostly divorced or partner less.  They had not been getting any, or not getting enough, and mostly had only experienced the most basic sexual techniques.  And they had fantasies.  He watched her mind struggle with the decision, and slowly, like always, she realized there was only one choice, a choice she had already made.  He saw the standard tear form.  They all did that.  The feeling of knowing they were trapped by their desires and needs.  He knew it wasn’t easy, because it was always discussed at the end of this first session.  He would help them talk through it, so it wouldn’t spring up tomorrow, and make them miss a session, and the punishment that went with that.  He learned the hard way on the first few.  The early ones missed a session or even two, but they always ended up coming back.  So he tried to help them past that now.   She turned back, and started to read the contract out loud.  Her voice was timid at first, and she had to rub the tears away before she started the second paragraph.

“I, Jane Wilson, here do enter into an agreement for the purpose of sexual submissive training.  I hereby enroll in such a training course offered by Robert Young, and his associates.  I agree to any and all activities, listed on the attached questionnaire, and not listed as a limit.  I agree to penetration of any of my orifices, either by Mr. Young, or any of his designees……..

He picked up the bottle of lube, and placed a generous amount on his finger.  Then he started to apply it to the rosebud of her butt.  She gave a gasp, but soon continued her recitation.  He worked more of the lube into her ass. 

“Signed on……”  She finished.  Slowly, she picked up the pen.  She gave one last hesitation, then filled in the date, and signed the first copy.  As she did, he placed his cock, at the entrance to her rectum.  He felt a shudder run thru the connection.  He watched as she signed the other two copies and initialed all the pages.  Then she looked over her shoulder.

“You may beg for your sodomy.”  Was all he said, as he stared back into her eyes as if daring her.  Oh god, she hadn’t thought of it in those terms

“Please, will you use my butt.”  She said in a small voice.  “Please take me…..Stick it in me…….” Looking back and seeing she wasn’t making an impression, she said.  “Fuck me….Fuck my ass…..Split my cheeks…..”  Swas getting desperate to get it over with.  “Fuck my ass hard…. Ream out my hole…Please give it to me….Fuck it hard.”  The words were beginning to have an effect. Her breathing deepened and she started to sound like she meant the words.  “Fuck me…..Put it in my ass….Please, don’t make me wait like this…..Just do it…..Pleeaassee….Take my anal virginity…...”

He thrust forward slightly.  She gave a cry.  When nothing else happened, she had to resume her triad. 

“Oh, Oh this is going to hurt……Just do it……Get it over with….Take my ass….Fuck it…..Shove it in….Give me that cock…Fuck me hard…. SODOMIZE MEEEeee”

He push in more firmly,  not rapidly, but not too slowly either. 

Oh, god…..Hurts……Shit…..So big…..your in my ass…..Ohhhh…..so full….Please.”

He was fully in now, he gave her a few seconds to fully experience her penetration.

“Oh, god….So big…..So full….Please take it out…..”

So he did, he slowly withdrew.  But not all the way, then he pushed back in. 

“Nnnnhhh…..Oh god…..Eeehhh….your in my ass…..your going to fuck it…..So, just do it….Fuck my ass….Get it over with…..Fuck this slut……”

So he did.   He started a slow back and forth pace.  When she didn’t speak for several seconds, he slapped her ass, and told her.  “Speak up slut.  Tell me you want it.  Tell me how it fells to have your first slut fuck, up your ass.”

“Oh god…..it still hurts…..fuck my ass……I’m so full of cock…..It feels so huge back there…..Please fuck it…….It’s so depraved……Fuck it harder…….Fill me with your cock…..Please…..give me your cum…..Bugger your bitch.”

The effect of having to beg, of having to provide commentary, was having it’s effect.  Her pussy was dripping, she realized.  She was getting turned on.  That made it worse, and better, when she realized this.

“Oh, so humiliating……but fuck my ass…….I’m being assfucked……… cornholed…… so humiliating……”

She realized she had just committed to several months of this kind of treatment.  This and more.  That, along with thrusting in her ass, being forced to verbalize, was bringing her lust to a boil.  She could feel it now.  Her nipples like rocks on her squashed breast, threatening to lift her off the table.  Her clit hard and throbbing, like she during her best masturbations, but more so.  And her mind.  All these things, and the sensations from her ass, were convincing her that this was what she had wanted all along.   

“Yes…… ass fuck this slut……Ream my ass hard……Slam it……Fuck it……Sodomize me…….Make..me...your....whorrreeeee.

He had been ready.  With these the words He reached and stroked her clit.  The words ceased.  But not the voice.  Moans, stopped.  They became soft shrieks, that soon were involuntarily cut off.

She came.  A huge, consuming orgasm.  Her back arched, and her body went rigid.  As her ass clenched him.  He added his offering into her body. 

Incredible, she thought.  She was having one of her best ever orgasms.  FROM BEING ASS FUCKED.   As the orgasm dwindled, the humiliation of this thought, sent her into an additional tremor of lust. 

While still in her, he leaned down, and whispered in her ear.   “Well done pet.  I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”  He slipped from her, as she rested, and used a cloth to clean them both. 

Oh my god, she thought, his words echoing in her head.  I am a slut.  I did ask for it.  And I did like it.  Tears filled her eyes.  She didn’t know they were tears of emotional release.  She thought they were tears of shame, which only caused her more shame.  More tears.

Her tears had ceased, yet she still lay over the coffee table in her humiliation.  But, suddenly, there was a pair of legs before her.  His legs.  He knelt on one knee, and gently lifted her till her eyes met his. 

“Do not mistake the tears.  You have opened the door to your sexuality.  It is a dramatic, but not daunting thing.”  He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She couldn’t believe the varied emotions that simple kiss stirred in her. 

Taking her arm, she helped her from the table.  Then got her a glass of water.  She drained it, and he gave her another. 

When she was refreshed and had calmed he said.  “It’s time to start your training.”

He commenced to teach her various position. 

Kneel, she already knew, but it’s Lifestyle name Nadu she didn’t.  But he made her improve the previously held position, her head held high, eyes downcast, knees spread wide open, shoulders back keeping her back arched slightly, breasts thrust outward. Her hands on her thighs, palms facing upward.

He made her say the position, assume it, the repeat the name.  Then he described another.

Bracelets: Placing hands behind the back, shoulders pushed back and breasts thrust outward, hands clasped tightly behind back, ready to be bound or chained.  He made her say it, then take it, and say it again.  Then he commanded “Kneel”.  She repeated it, then positioned herself and repeated.  “Bracelets.”  Again, say, do, say again.

Crawl: Down on all fours, palms to elbows flat on floor, ass in the air with the forehead close but not touching the floor.

‘crawl’ she said, and did, repeating the name as she crawled in a small circle.  “Nadu”  ‘kneel’, she rose up and displayed, and repeated “Nadu”.  “Bracelets….Crawl….”

Table:  Down on all fours, locking her elbows, making back smooth and level, holding her head level as well.  She might be used thus as a foot rest or to hold drinks or other items.  Again, she repeated the process, and then all the commands learned.

Karta or Slaver’s Kiss: Kneel on the floor, thighs spread widely which allows chest to touch the floor. Lean forward to place breasts and forehead against the floor. Reach out with arms fully extended, palms against floor.  Expose hindquarters fully in preparation for the caress of the leather or penetration.   She stated and took the position with a shudder as she felt the potential of this position.  Then, thru the full list.

SULA-Ki or Slut Position: Lying on the back, hands at sides, palms facing upward. Legs are spread wide open, hips up off the floor, as if beckoning with the body, encouraging inspection or sexual use by the Master.  Again, she trembled in this position, whether in fear or anticipation, she wasn’t sure.

He took her thru the list three times, then started mixing them up.  She practiced for nearly 30 minutes, he constantly correcting and improving her display.   Near the end she was tired, struggling into the positions.

Finally, he let her sit and rest, refreshing her water glass. 

Next he took two heavy “medical” copper bracelets.  He asked for her right hand, and affixed one to her wrist.  Then he asked for her left and repeated the process.   Then,  he used 4 large paper clips in a chain to attach them together.  Then holding the links, he lifted her hands, encouraging her to her feet, then, leading her to the kitchen.  It was a typical bachelor kitchen.  Dishes in the sink, the stove and counter untidy and littered with items and crumbs. 

“Get to work, slave.”  He said, and then left.  She started in putting things away, and gathering the dishes by the sink.  She washed and dried the dishes, and with a little hunting put them away in the proper places.  She had to take care, as the restriction of her hands made things difficult and precarious.  Then she cleaned the surfaces, aware that it took all of her body now, because she had to move both hands together, making her lean and twist to do things she usually didn’t think about.   Finally, she found a small dustpan and brush under the sink.  Sweeping the floor was interesting.  She had to move on her already tender knees, and coordinate both hands in a sweeping motion, and then with the snubbing of her wrist, manage to sweep things into the dustpan.  All in all it was a very humiliating and submissive experience.  Also she had a building distraction.  Ever since running the water for the dishes, she had a growing sensation in her bladder.  By the time she finished, her need was strong. 

She returned to the living room where he was reading.  He didn’t even look up, so she stood before him, then realizing it was required, slowly spread her legs wide.  She stood for long minutes, and soon found it hard to stay still.  Her toes turned inward.  Then she found she was clenching her thighs, and then undulating slowly as she stood.  Finally, she could stand it no more, and a small moan escaped her lips.

He’d been watching her discreetly.  What was there about a woman in great need of the toilet that was so erotic.  He watched her openedly for a minute, she was practically dancing now.

Finally, he rose, and grabbing her hands before she got to the point of clutching herself, pulled her to the bathroom.  He stood in the doorway.  She hesitated and he merely nodded his head.   She hesitated only a second longer and rushed to the commode.  As she sat, she turned to face him for a instant, hoping he would go.  Then she blushed and turned away, and as the stream started, it seemed to be linked to her blush.  The longer the stream went on, the deeper her blush got.  She felt humiliated, exposed, vulnerable.  Never had anyone been in the room with her, and even with the door closed, she always had made sure she stopped if she heard anyone outside the door.  Now not only could she be heard, she could be seen.  She stared at the floor, her blush full, and deep.  She finished, blotted herself dry, then stood.  She saw him enter, and push her to her knees beside the commode.  Then he stepped before it. 

“You may assist me now.”  He said. 

Assist him?  How……Oh shit.  He wanted her toooo….  To take out his cock… and hold it….while he peed.  She hadn’t yet seen it.  Hadn’t touched it.  And the first time would, it would be for such a base purpose.  Slowly she lifted her hands, trying to maneuver them to his fly.  Slowly she lowered the zip, and reached inside.  She grabbed his cock.  She had known it was large (it had stretched her ass so), but she still made a shape intake of breath as she brought it out into view.  She handled it as she tried to find a way to point it with both hands.  Within seconds, he started a long stream only inches from her face.  She watched fascinated in a way with how it jumped at first, and the feel of the flow thru the thinner flesh of the underside.  Then it was jumping in her hands again, as he worked the last cc’s from his bladder.  After a few seconds she remembered overhearing male conversation to the effect, and she gave it a shake to loose the last hanging drop.  She grabbed a bit of paper and wiped the tip.  Then she started to return it to its home, but he stopped her. 

“Take it in your mouth, slut.”  He said.

Her eyes sprang all the way open.  Yes she did want it in her mouth.  She wanted to please it.  Taste it.  But here in the bathroom.  Kneeling on the hard tile.  With the smell of both their urine in the bowl.  This wasn’t how she wanted it to be. 

But slowly she leaned forward, and opened her mouth.  She knew she had to do what he wanted.  What she wanted too.  She licked the tip, and then licked it a little farther.  Then she took it into her mouth.  As she worked it slowly into her mouth she soon forgot her surroundings, and tried to do her best, as it slowly grew in her mouth.  When she got it fully erect, she slipped it out and caressed it with her tongue, the slipped it back in.  She had never liked doing this, but now she tried to push that to the back of her mind.  She tried to take as much of it as she could, but it was just so foreign.  She gagged before it even was half way in.  Still she tried, trying to make up in suction, what she couldn’t in depth.  She tried to caress his balls, but it was so hard to do with her hands bound.  But them just dangling before her sex, didn’t work either.  

She tried her best, but knew her talent for this was lacking.  It took a while before she was rewarded with his orgasm.  But she struggled with her reward, she knew what was expected, but it took a tremendous effort to swallow the bitter stuff.  When he didn’t move she figured it out and returned his organ to her mouth, cleaning it.

Shortly, he backed out, and lifting her by her bound wrists, lead her back to the living room and commanded “Nadu”.  Then they talked about what had transpired, and how she felt.  Finally, he removed the paperclip links but not the bracelets, and led her to the door.  She blushed furiously again as she stepped out and dressed.  Then with a quick kiss on her cheek, he closed the door.