Slam! The front door crashed impenetrably behind her. When would Katie get used to this? She stood feeling the heat in her cheeks and the tight clenching of her fists. She was angry with all this. More and more of her things were being usurped by Carl's stuff. The sitting room was unrecognizable. All her nice things had been stowed away in cupboards and replaced by Carl's books or his photographs or sporting memorabilia. She never said he could move in, yet her flat looked increasingly like his home than hers. How long before she would get her keys back and restore some normality?
As always, Katie was in a rush. She had to get to work on time today. She realised that she was losing the battle to show she was immune to the sow lessons. The more she went over and over them, the more she fell under their spell. She loved the way she was being regulated in the evenings through the intake of water. Carl had insisted she needed his agreement before she could relieve herself. She felt so out of control and it excited her mercilessly as she stood watching the water cascading and coiling inside the glass as she poured her next intake. How could she hold on to the old Kate? She was slavishly sinking into the hypnotic temptation to immerse herself into this new life. The only way she could cling to her old self was victory in the battle to prove she was a capable and a valuable member of staff; and that meant getting to work on time – something she had yet to manage since she had been forced to use public transport.
Katie sat on the bus and stared blankly into the street as the shops flitted by. Her mind settled on her favourite obsession, her life together with Carl. This life, while touching her work really revolved around the evenings and was bound in ritual. At the office she would have to wait until Carl was ready to take her home and he would let her into the flat. Even that was a ritual that forced her to wait docile for Carl to search for and produce the key – her key! Once inside Carl would just stand looking at her, waiting until she had removed her coat, top and bra. These she handed over to him and he would hang them in the wardrobe while she stood with her udders, as Carl always called them, free. Next came the short skirt which she duly handed over. He made her wait between each item of clothing while he put them away, disappearing them inside the wardrobe which she was not allowed to open, she had no keys. Carl had put locks upon all the cupboards, and in particular, her clothes drawers and wardrobes. Slowly everything of hers was being stowed away out of her reach. Carl would put out the clothes she was to wear the next day and she had no choice. Her dependence upon Carl was being deliberately reinforced in all matters.
While Carl was hanging her clothes, Katie was left standing in just her shoes and stockings and the very tight hot pants that curved smoothly over her mound and pressed constantly into her slit. Carl loved to slide his finger over the contour of her mound and taunt her over the sow juices she had produced that were staining the front. Well it was true, she did make herself very wet during the day. The hot pants tormented her cunt so badly she couldn't really stop herself. Her was constantly being reminded of her nether regions throughout the day. Even sitting in her chair at the office, if she sat back she could suddenly find the material squeezed and pinching at her lips as they bulged out upon either side of the seam. She knew it was wrong to allow herself to get into this state when she should be diligently working. She knew she should be stronger, that she was slip sliding into sowhood. But since meeting her trainer she couldn't stop thinking of her delicious sweet surrender to him, her resolve seemed to evaporate as she became a creature of sensuality, stripping away her independence along with her clothes.
Being treated with such care, the centre of the ritual, yet at the same time inferior, incapable, in need of her master, being controlled fuelled an incessant buzz in her loins. She craved it. Yes she did! Why pretend otherwise? She had no idea where this was headed, and that too was part of the deliciousness of her surrender. She did not need to think about that, she could just revel in the unfolding story that so bewitched her.
Katie shuddered. These thoughts carried with them uncomfortable feelings and she felt a rising panic inside her that she must put an end to this. As if to deflect her discomfort she thought about the way Carl looked after her. He drove her home, he made her dinner and he cooked so well. She never cared for herself in the way he looked after her. She didn't have to think about anything, leaving Carl to take care of it all: the way he put out the clothes she was to wear, how he tucked her in bed and arranged the mp3 player to lull her into sleep – even though she didn't think it worked. It was the care and attention he lavished upon her. She loved the deep sense of relaxation she felt knowing that when she got home she would just enjoy herself.
Carl would lead her by the hand into the bedroom and there he would unzip her hot pants, his hands snaking over her mound, pulling at the zipper, the thrill as it ran round, tugged by her trainer's hands. No Carl's hands, she blushed. The feel of his fingers so close made her ooze and she had to use what little control was left her to stop her thighs from rocking on the seat in the bus. His hands around her hips, pulling, pinching, tugging at the material which clung tight, would not yield and she would giggle at his efforts. The material was so thin, she could feel his fumbling as though she were standing naked before him. It was so funny watching him struggle impatiently with her clothes, knowing he chose them. Yet so much of that laughter was sheer delight, of excitement, of being so alive that her heart thudded within her.
Slowly the material would descend, stretching over her ass cheeks and squeezing her before reaching the point where the pressure releases, then sliding reluctantly slowly down, the tug against her cunt, the wetness and the odour intoxicating them both. Katie fought the urge to slip her fingers under her skirt and press the hard nub that throbbed between her thighs. Her mind wandered into Carl fucking her. Every night ended the same with her need having built up from the lessons, a slow unremitting tension, the pulling at her clit that grew became engorged, made it throb, made her legs desire to open and her secret inner self plead to be mauled by her lover, her trainer, by Carl. He fucked her each night, his seed swamping her, staining her, stamping his ownership inside her. It was a ritual that bound her to him. He was no longer some external person but came inside her in deep and mysterious ways that made him an integral part of her own psyche.
Katie looked up as the bus shot past her stop; her stomach groaned as she thought of the time she would waste having to walk back from the next stop. She had to concentrate!
She arrived at the office in a rush and panic. She felt her abdomen constricted by the tight hot pants Carl insisted she wear. It was all very well having a skirt over them so she wasn't lewdly displayed in front of her colleagues, but it still pressed tightly into her belly and made her need to pee more often. She dumped her bag on the chair and was about to totter off to the bathroom when she saw the tall jug of water and glass sitting patiently on her desk. An electric arc buzzed around her bladder and down to the very tip of her clitoris. She clenched her muscles as tight as she could but could not stop a trickle of her pee escaping between the gripping, twisting squeeze of her lips. It brought a tingle of sheer pleasure radiating across her belly.
Up until now Katie's adventures with her water training had been confined to the evenings after work. She had looked forward to the surrender all day and rushed to drink her first glass of water as soon as she had been allowed into her flat and disrobed. Now she understood that Carl was taking her to a new level, and bringing this game into the office. Was this a good idea; certainly not if she wanted to get lots of work done. Yet she was so drippingly excited at the sight of the clear cool water patiently waiting for her on the desk. She felt consumed by the cloying dampness in her panty, the bursting need for the bathroom which were held transfixed by the charm and allure of the clear liquid taunting her on her desk. She quickly poured herself a glass and wriggling as she leaned over and drank, she then rushed off to find relief.
Before she could reach the safety of the women's bathroom, Carl called her to his office. She looked at him pleadingly and wanted to say I will be with you in a moment. Anyone else would have said so, but somehow she knew this was not an option allowed her. She followed behind him to his office, and she was skipping a little to keep herself from flooding her panties right in front of him.
"From today it is time to bring your training into the office. You will practice your lessons here. I can see how much you enjoy them, so why wait till the evenings."
