They sat in his kitchen and made small talk. It seemed incongruous to her that after what they had both experienced, they were able to behave as though nothing had happened. Beforehand she hadn't know quite what to expect from the experience, other than the prospect of sex. She had wondered if he would keep her chained her up in a cage, and feed her from a dog bowl? Instead they ate a simple meal, drank an excellent bottle of wine, and discussed current affairs.
There was no doubt of his dominant position though. He had removed his suit jacket, but his tie was still in place, while she was still wearing her slutty clothes. She looked down and noticed that her nipples were standing proudly erect above her half cup bra, even though the room was warm, and that there was dried semen on the upper slope of her right breast. She wriggled on her chair and felt her shamefully wet thong slide over her vulva and spark a tremor of arousal in her clitoris. The humiliation of her current situation and her appearance made her catch her breath, and she felt herself blush as she realised that she was leaving a wet patch on his leather chair.
'A penny for your thoughts?' He asked.
She looked up at him and realised that he was studying her intently.
She was about to try to make something up. When he said.
'I would advise you not to try lying to me, slut.'
The word
slut
triggered something in her, and she realised that the next session had begun.
He stood up and walked around the table to stand behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.
'For the final time, slut. What were you thinking?'
'Nothing, sir.'
They both knew she was lying. He grabbed hold of her hair and tugged her head back so that she was looking up at him. One hand pulled her hair, and the other reached down grabbed hold of her right nipple and twisted it.
She squealed, and he laughed.
'I can see this little slut needs a lesson in obedience.'
She groaned and felt a trickle of juice escape from her vagina.
He pulled her to her feet by her hair and pushed her over the pine kitchen table. Then he noticed the wet patch on the chair, and laughed again.
'Is that what you were worried about? Me discovering how desperate you are to be fucked?'
He slapped her bottom hard, twice.
'Answer me!'
'Yes...sir.'
He placed his left hand in the small of her back and pushed her flat against the table top. Then he used his foot to push her feet apart. His other hand tugged the wet thong to one side and she felt the cool air on her most private parts. He reached down and parted her labia with his fingers.
'Is this what you want, slut?'
She had often fantasised about being humiliated and used like a slut. But the feeling of his fingers touching her was overwhelming. She could feel her juices running down her inner thigh, and her pelvic floor muscle contracting rhythmically. He withdrew his fingers offered them to her mouth.
'Clean up your mess, slut.'
She sobbed with frustration, but obediently licked his fingers. Then when instructed she knelt and licked the seat of her chair while he stood with his arms folded. When he was satisfied she knelt on the floor at his feet.
'I think we need to start your training immediately. We'll begin with basic positions. When I give you command "
One
", you will kneel with your legs spread. Then cross your hands behind your back. Arch your back and push out your breasts. Your head should be tilted back, your mouth open and your tongue sitting over your lower lip.'
'One!'
She shuffled into position. He walked over to one of the kitchen cupboards and returned with a plastic spatula. He reached down and tapped her inner thigh with the spatula.
'Wider.'
She shuffled her knees further apart, but he tapped again, and again until she was painfully stretched. She could feel the muscles of her inner thighs straining, and the cold air on her inner folds confirmed her suspicion that her vagina was gaping open.
He turned his attention to her breasts, he tapped the underside of her breasts with the spatula and ordered her to arch her back further. She hesitated and was rewarded with a swipe across her nipple. She squealed and bent forward, then quickly regained her position.
He pulled up a chair, sat down and leaned close to her face. She was conscious how dry her mouth had become, and how that contrasted with her vagina, which she was certain was dripping on his wooden floor.
He tapped her tongue gently with the spatula.
'Further out. Offer me your mouth to use, like a good slut.'
She pushed out her tongue, her lips felt parched after holding her mouth open for so long and her tongue ached. She imagined how she must look, displaying herself like an object to be used. Imagining what her colleague with think if they could see her now only made her humiliation and arousal all the more intense.
He stood up and walked slowly around her, using the spatula to gently correct her position until he was satisfied.
'Not bad...for a slut in training. I think I should give you a reward for your efforts.'
