"Let's start with the basics. Take your clothes off and fold them neatly on the floor in front of you." I watched his face while he processed my instructions. Slight confusion, some hesitation, but compliance with a woman giving him orders quickly won out. He was trained, after all. The clothes came off. He stood naked, unsure of what was expected of him, but already erect and vulnerable, waiting for direction. Perfect.
"Over the next several days I will correct your posture. You will breath deeper, and your heart will pump more efficiently. That means your circulation will improve significantly." I sat back expectantly, waiting for him to grasp the obvious. Surely they briefed him on precisely what he would be doing here for the next two weeks.
He looked perplexed.
"I said your blood flow will increase to parts of you that need to get big quickly and stay that way." Clearly he was not the sharpest tool in the box. But apparently a willing tool all the same. He looked pretty good. About six-two, close-cropped dark hair, nice pecs, good abs, great ass! No tummy-ponch at all, and the biggest cock I might ever have the pleasure of handling. I found myself looking forward to making him squat and bend. But still no clue about why his wife and her friend had left him with me.
"Your cock will get harder faster and I'll be able to use it for hours, ... slut," I explained. Ah, the sudden dawn of comprehension spread across his handsome face. I was ok with him not being too bright. He wasn't here for stimulating conversation. He was here for obedience training.
Lisa and I had become colleagues through our mutual interest in refining the male tendency toward submission. We realized that although a lot of men acted dominant, what they really craved was a firm female hand on their cock. We could help them understand that fact.
The girls had dropped him off on their way to the islands for a couple of weeks. They assured me that he had agreed to this special training and that he was anxious to begin. He didn't look too clued-in though. Maybe he thought he was here for some sort of special yoga instruction. Surprise. Time to raise the expectation level.
"Sit." It was a simple, effective way to establish a subs baseline. If he asked for clarification, if he hesitated, if he did pretty much anything else but sit, it meant extra work for me. It would indicate that his owner had not made basic obedience a priority. Big mistake.
He sat, like the well-trained slut I knew he would be, coming from Lisa's training. He didn't think about shit. He was told to sit, so he did what he had been trained to do, he obeyed the woman.
"Straighten your back. Imagine you have a cable through the crown of your head that's pulling you to the ceiling. Good. Now place your hands on the chair arms and spread your knees to either side of the seat. Good boy. Hold that posture."
"It's important that you remain comfortable but attentive. You will need to remember a few things while you are studying with me. Yes, I said studying. You are a student of the art of submission now," I smiled meaningfully and I hoped, reassuringly. It was always better to establish the line of authority quickly, and rewards for correct behavior worked faster when the slut wanted to please his handler. So did punishment for mistakes.
"Consider this situation a transfer of ownership. For the next two weeks you will belong to me."
I always liked to pause for effect at this point. Almost invariably, something registers on the sluts' face. This slut's bland stare told me two things. First, they had not explained to him what was going to be happening, and second, that he was ready to follow orders. That glazed-over look means a male slut is waiting to be made useful. He is receptive to instruction.
A hard cock also means he is waiting to be used, if it gets that way from being compliant to female authority. This dick was erect, rigid even, jutting out at a forty-five degree angle between the slut's wide open legs. The novelty of being subjugated by a new woman will often do that to a real slut.
"So my name is none of your business right now. You will address me as Miss for the duration of our interactions." He stared back expectantly. Again, not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.
"Say yes Miss," I prompted.
"Yes Miss," he parroted.
"Here are a few things you need to know. First, you are my property. For two weeks you will do what you are told, whenever you are told and for as long as I tell you." I waited for a reaction. Zero. Lisa must have fucked this slut into submission pretty good.
I stood between his open legs and tangled my hand in his hair. He smelled good, like leather and wood shavings. I nestled my face in his hair and enjoyed the scent of a submissive slut. He belonged to me for two weeks. When I was done with him he would not only obey any woman without question, he would anticipate his owner's desire and do his best to facilitate her choice of sexual expression.
"Good boy. You may stand and follow me." I turned without a second look at him and walked away. First assumption; expect compliance. Lisa and her friend expected their slut to sharpen his ability to respond to female authority. It was my job to embed that desire in his psyche.
A strategically placed hall mirror allowed me to see that he was padding after me. Naked, semi-erect, he made no attempt to cover himself. I knew by his complacency that he was at my disposal. Time to find the limits of what he was able to give, as well as the start of where our lessons would begin.
I stopped and waited for him to catch up. Without glancing back I snapped my fingers and pointed to the floor behind me.
"Crawl." I said. I heard him lower himself to the carpet almost immediately. I walked ahead, leaving the sub to catch up on his hands and knees.
He crawled after me down the hallway into the living room. The dynamics of our relationship had changed considerably now. He would do whatever I told him to do. He would do what any woman in authority told him to do. Lisa and her friend Julia had established the basics and broken him in. I just had to reinforce their training and couch his slave reactions in civility.
"You're obviously a sub-slut," I observed. It was always good to verbally reinforce the obvious with a male who was not too bright. He was squatting beside me with his knees spread and his erection on display. It would be difficult to imagine a more willing participant. This was going to be fun.
"Stand." His boner bounced as he straightened. I sat and contemplated the stiff cock and full balls on display for me. He shuddered a little when I touched his cock for the first time; a typical response to being fondled by a stranger. It was also the excited response of a male slut that needed to be used.
"Keep your hands behind your back and spread your legs a little wider." Of course he complied.
I estimated his length at about eight inches. His balls weighed heavily in my hand and he grunted when they were fondled. I slapped his ass.
"SMACK!" The slut grunted again.
