This cunt is called mandy. Mandy's Lord Husband has instructed her to share the story of her training. The cunt mandy is grateful to be allowed to write from her point of view.
My name was Amanda Stevens. I met my husband Richard during college. I studied History, and my area of special interest was the Medieval Period. My friends joked that I was working on my ready-for-marriage degree. There was some justice in their jokes, because I was more attractive than intelligent, and my studies had no practical use in the world. I could have gone on to become a scholar, I suppose, but I wasn't especially interested in burying myself in books, papers, and old archives written in ancient foreign languages. My husband, four years my senior, graduated from Law School at the same time I was graduating with a Bachelor of Arts.
We were married the summer after graduation. We honeymooned in the Caribbean and he settled into work at a big Firm that expected him to clock eighty hours a week. I settled in as a fairly idle home maker. We even had a real white picket fence. Without children, the hours and days dragged on. I kept up a fairly intense regimen of aerobics to keep my figure trim. I am honey blonde with big brown eyes. My bust and rear are on the voluptuous side of generous, but it takes a real effort to keep my waist and thighs slender. I gladly put in that effort, as I had little else to do. I kept house well and fixed gourmet meals at any hour my man came home. This left plenty of time for shopping. Money was never an issue. But my main interest was in keeping my husband interested in me.
I was not what you would call a lifestyle submissive, although I certainly am now, but when I discovered Richard's interest in whips and chains I certainly encouraged him. A few welts and bruises were a small price to pay to keep him interested in my ass. I enjoyed the intensity of the nipple clamps and I especially liked to hear my husband talk dirty to me, something he was very willing to do when he knew that he was in charge. I didn't mind a bit calling him 'Master' or 'Daddy' or whatever else he wanted to hear. I furnished our finished basement with a St. Andrew's cross, a spanking bench, and a whole rack of toys. It was our playroom several nights a week. So when Richard suggested that it might be good for both of us if I went to intensive submissive training, I didn't argue much. In fact, after an initial shock, I was rather excited at the prospect.
The institution was very blandly named The Training Facility, and their public offices were small, very elegant, and tastefully furnished. I sat in a comfortable chair across the desk from the Director, a snowy-haired old man who reminded me very much of a kindly grandfather. Richard was on my right. I hardly remember the conversation. I signed a number of papers that I didn't bother to read, trusting my husband to have done that. Then we all sipped on some excellent spiced tea and chatted about something. I was about to bring up some practical matters relating to luggage and moving details, when I began to get very sleepy.
I woke up in total darkness, completely nude. The first thing I noticed was that the bed I was lying on was extremely hard and uncomfortable. In fact, it felt like cement with a lot of big stones in the mix. That is what it turned out to be. There were no pillows, sheets, or blankets. The second thing I noticed was that I had been shaved completely bald, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and everywhere in between. After recovering from these initial shocks, and shaking off the aftereffects of whatever drug they had certainly given me, I looked around and tried to make sense of my situation. It was so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, so visual exploration was impossible. I tried to find a comfortable position and did some thinking. Obviously this was the beginning of my training. There would be nothing to do but wait for it to be explained. I had expected something a whole lot more amateurish, perhaps a mock-up dungeon sex club. This already seemed to be a more total experience. I resigned myself and just lay back looking at where I imagined the ceiling was.
Suddenly, the lights came on from high overhead. They were bright and white and I was blinded for a moment. Looking around, I saw I was in one large but very plain rectangular room. The walls were brick, painted white and the floor was a plain white linoleum tile. At the far end of the room there was a shower, sink, and toilet. Other than the shower door, which was glass, there was no privacy at all to this bathroom. What I was lying on was indeed intended as a bed. It projected from the wall and was raised off the floor by two steel legs. The only other furniture in the room was a single straight backed chair sitting in the middle of the room. The entire wall opposite the toilet was taken up by a row of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I wondered immediately if they were one way glass. Opposite my bed was a large steel security door, also painted white. A hinged door about a foot high at the bottom could pass things in and out. To the right of the door was an electrical panel with a single large red button. It was labeled 'emergency'. I had just begun a second examination of the room, when a speaker I couldn't see crackled to life. It was a cheerful, male baritone voice.
"Good morning, cunt!" I felt an immediate surge of indignation and anger at being addressed in that way. But I thought I had better let it go until I understood my situation a little better. "Welcome to the training facility!" Well, he did sound welcoming at least. "Stand and face the mirror." I stood up and faced the mirror, feeling very conscious of my nudity and the fact that I had been shaved completely bald. I didn't try to cover myself with my hands, though. There didn't seem to be any point. "I am a trainer here. In fact, I am your trainer. If you follow all instructions today and show no sign of rebellion, we will meet tomorrow. You will address me simply as 'trainer' and every sentence you speak to me will end with the word 'trainer'. I am behind this glass right now, and you will never know when I am watching you. Try to remember that as your training progresses. Do you understand everything I have told you so far?"
Rebellion didn't seem to be very useful at that moment, so I just answered: "Yes, Trainer."
