Training Ch 08 1

The night passed restlessly.

Eileen lay awake for a long time, chained to the bed, with scattered images lingering in her mind and her body. She could still feel the cold stone balustrade pressing against her breasts, the unseen man's cock thrusting into her. She fidgeted and squirmed, too horny to sleep. Several times, she slid her hands down her body toward her dripping pussy, only to be stopped short by the chains.

She rolled over onto her back. Beside her, Anthony slept deeply, curled up on his side. Eileen's hands glided over her breasts, squeezing and caressing, while the way she had been taken on the balcony replayed again and again in her mind. Her fingers pressed into the bruise where Anthony had bitten her, hard, until she shuddered.

When sleep finally did come, it was filled with vivid dreams, crackling with sexual energy. A hooded man, strong and powerfully built, held her down in the middle of a banquet table. All around, men and women in fancy clothes and strange, ornate masks watched while he raped her. She fought uselessly against him. He overpowered her easily. His rigid cock thrust hard into her, so fast it made her scream. It hurt at first, but as he continued, it began to feel better and better. Soon, pleasure overwhelmed her resistance. What had started as rape became something else; her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, and she kissed him as she came. When he was finished, he spread her open to display her to the masked people seated around the table. She slid her fingers between her legs and masturbated openly for them, relishing the wet of his come dripping from her, savoring the eyes on her.

When Anthony woke her that morning, she was dripping wet. As soon as he had uncuffed her, she placed the pillows in their appointed positions and offered herself to him, back arched, arms stretched languidly along the bed. He slid slowly into her ass. She moved at a leisurely pace, working her hips unhurriedly to that place where they both cried out and his come flooded into her.

After she had bathed him, she dried him with a soft fluffy towel and helped him dress. The soft lazy smile never left her face. She felt warm and vibrant, her body awash in erotic energy. Her fingers brushed playfully across his skin every time he came near.

"My goodness, you are in quite the mood this morning, my darling little whore," Anthony said. He grinned his boyish grin. His fingers caressed her bare breast. "What has you in such a good mood?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Perhaps. Whatever it is, I like it. Did being raped in a public place put you in this wonderful mood? Was that what did it?"

She blushed and ducked her head. Her cheeks colored. "Maybe," she said. She pressed her body against his. One hand ran down his body to follow the contours of his cock through his pants. The other slid up the back of his neck to draw him in close for a long kiss. "Or maybe you just turn me on."

He grinned. "Or maybe knowing that you're almost done with your training and you'll soon be a full-fledged sex slave turns you on."

Wild, reckless excitement filled her. "Did it excite you to watch me being raped last night?" Her voice was challenging. Her fingers traced the outline of his cock, over and over. "Did you like seeing another man hold your wife down and shove his cock into her? Did it turn you on when I told you how it felt?" Some part of her deep inside was astonished at her boldness.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, it did." He put his hand between her breasts and shoved her back against the wall, so hard she let out a squeak of surprise. His other hand slipped between her legs. When he touched wetness, he pushed his fingers inside her. "Almost as much as it excited you. You know what else excites me?"

"Oh!" She quivered at the touch, eyes closed.

"It excites me to see how much you love being a sex slave." He released her suddenly "And I have plans for you this weekend, yes I do. But before those, breakfast!"

She let out a little mewling sound of disappointment when he turned away toward the kitchen.

After breakfast, moved to get dressed. He grabbed her by the arm. "Stay just as you are. Wait here. There's something I want to do."

She watched him disappear up the stairs. Now that the heat of sexual excitement was wearing off, she found herself filled with doubts. Talking so openly about what had happened last night, being so bold about how she felt...these were things that men didn't like, weren't they? What if Anthony thought she was too slutty? What if she seemed too easy? Would he find her repulsive? Would he want to be rid of her?

The doubt resonated in her mind.

Is Anthony right about what kind of person I am?

she asked herself.

Do I like being raped in public?

The thought horrified her. It seemed unlikely, even laughable, that any man might enjoy watching another man have sex with his wife. Yet Anthony kept arranging situations where other people used her for sex. What happened when he grew tired of that? Surely he would realize how defiled she was, and want to be rid of her.

Lying in the dark, chained to the bed, secretly touching herself, the things that had happened seemed alluring and sexy. But now, in the light of day, the way she had asked him so directly if he liked watching what had happened to her, the way she had been so openly, wantonly sexual in the limo on the ride home...those things suddenly felt dirty and wrong. Her arousal drained away like water, leaving her feeling cold and a little unsure.

From upstairs, she heard a muffled thump, followed by the sound of something metal crashing to the floor. There was a pause, then a scraping sound. Another thud sounded. Her heart raced.

A few moments later, Anthony came down the stairs carrying the device he'd called a Sybian, the power cord dragging along behind him. He had removed the T-shaped metal bar that he had cuffed her wrists to. The sight of it brought back those memories, as sharp as if he had bound her to the machine just yesterday. A rush of arousal, strong and intoxicating, surged through her. She shuddered and looked away.

"Anthony, when I said those things about you being excited by...you know, by last night, I didn't mean..." Her voice trailed off.

"Yes?" He raised one eyebrow.

"It's wrong! I'm not the kind of person who...you know, when that man was holding me down, I couldn't...I didn't really, you know, like it, but..." Her face grew hot. She stopped, flustered. "It would be unfaithful! And saying those things is..."She stopped again. He watched her placidly. All the confidence she'd felt earlier seemed to evaporate. "What I mean is, that isn't it. It's not the things that man did! That doesn't put me in a good mood."

"Oh?" Anthony said. "Well, I think I can help put your mind at rest."

"Really?"

"Yes. There's something very important you might have forgotten about." He smiled. "Your body is my property. I can do whatever I like to it, and that includes loaning it out to others if I choose. You have no choice whatsoever in this. So you see, you don't need to worry about it; you can't control it anyway. Though in all honesty..." His grin grew wider. "I know you like it."

She opened her mouth to reply. He lifted a finger. "Don't even try to deny it. I saw how hard you came last night, and I saw how you were after."

"But--"

"Hush." He set the Sybian down next to the couch. She watched him plug it in. A strange mix of emotions roiled in her.

"Anthony--"

"Hush. Not a word. Today we are going to start working on changing your attitude about some things." He grinned wolfishly. "Come here," he said, pointing to the Sybian. "Sit."

She approached it warily. Her body remembered it well. Wetness began forming between her legs.

Self-conscious under Anthony's watchful eyes, Eileen lowered herself gingerly onto the machine. The dildo projecting up was stubby but quite thick, and she felt awkward as she worked herself down onto it.

"Buckle the straps. Strap your legs down."

She complied, feeling even more self-conscious. The act of strapping herself to the Sybian made her feel vulnerable and submissive. Her body responded strongly to the restraint, twitching around the dildo pressed up inside her. Her breath quickened.

Anthony sat on the couch, one leg on each side of her. "Unzip my pants," he said. Eileen quivered, partly in anticipation, partly in fear. He picked up a newspaper. "Put my cock in your mouth."

Her hands moved to caress his pants. He paid no notice, instead opening the paper. She unzipped him and drew out his penis. He was quite soft, apparently unaroused.

Her tongue swirled around the head. She sucked his soft cock into her mouth. Her lips closed around his shaft. Her head began to bob.

"No," Anthony said. His hand held the back of her head, keeping her from moving. "Stay still. Concentrate on the way it feels in your mouth. I want you to focus all of your attention on it. Just stay right there."

Eileen expected him to turn on the machine. Instead, he started to read his paper. Eileen sat there, the dildo quiet inside her, and tried to focus. His soft penis, clean and warm, filled her mouth. She could feel its texture on her tongue, the small ridge along its underside, the bulbous head pressing lightly against the roof of her mouth. Having it there made her mouth water uncontrollably, and before long a small thin line of drool leaked from the corner of her lips and started to run down toward her chin...

"Focus," Anthony said. His fingers pressed against the back of her head. "Your concentration is slipping. Focus on how it feels to have my cock in your mouth."

Her attention shifted back. She concentrated on the way his shaft curled slightly to nestle against his tongue. The small motions of her breathing caused it to shift, ever so slightly, in her mouth. Even in stillness, it felt alive, in a way that a dildo couldn't.

She thought about the way it felt when the blunt round head pressed against the back of her throat. Her body responded to the thought; Eileen felt herself tighten around the hard shaft impaling her cunt. Her clit throbbed against the ridge that ran along the front of the Sybian. She heard the rustle of the pages turning as Anthony read, felt the leather straps buckled tightly around her thighs to hold her down.

Anthony's fingers curled in her hair. "Focus! When you have a cock in you, that is the only thing you should be paying attention to."

Eileen flushed. She felt a tinge of humiliation at being forced to pay such close attention to Anthony when he was clearly not paying attention to her. She felt like an object, here only to service him. The feeling sent butterflies swirling in her stomach.

She wrestled her attention back to his cock. Very slowly, so subtly that she didn't notice it at first, it started to harden in her mouth. She felt it become slightly thicker against her tongue. The head crept deeper, toward her throat. She did nothing to encourage it, but merely remained still and allowed it to grow.

Finally, after more than half an hour had passed, Anthony put down the paper. His penis was by this time semi-erect in her mouth, still somewhat soft and pliable. He looked down at her. "Now," he said, "you may suck me off. When I come, you will hold it in your mouth. Do you understand?"

Her stomach did flip-flops. The thought of keeping his semen in her mouth sickened her. Even after all the times he had made her suck him, the taste and feel of his semen still filled her with disgust, and her first impulse was always to spit it out or choke it down as quickly as she could.

Reluctantly, she began to suck. Habit and experience quickly took over, and soon she was bobbing her head up and down expertly over his shaft. It grew to full hardness in her mouth. Her feelings quickened; her body, conditioned by months of practice, flushed with the hot tingle of arousal.

Anthony moaned. The sound made Eileen's heart beat faster. His cock swelled. She sucked faster, encouraging him. He threw back his head and roared with pleasure as he came. Thick fluid gushed into her mouth, filling it with the salty taste of semen.

When he had finished spurting, he pressed her back. "Tilt your head back. Hold it. Focus on what's in your mouth. Think about how it tastes. Feel how warm and thick it is. Concentrate on the texture."

Eileen gagged. Deliberately turning her awareness to the mouthful of semen caused her throat to close. She struggled to hold it in. She coughed wetly. A droplet ran from the corner of her mouth. Her stomach churned.

Anthony knelt behind her. "The thing about a Sybian," he said conversationally, "is that it's about as subtle as a truck. It doesn't care what mood you're in. It will make you come whether you're horny or not. Even if you're totally turned off." He twisted a knob. Eileen felt the dildo start to squirm inside her. The ridge buzzed with a loud, raspy noise against her clit.

"We are going to train you to respond to having your mouth filled with come," he said. "From now until you're properly trained, you will be permitted to have an orgasm only when your mouth is filled with semen. You will be required to swallow at the exact instant you come."

She whimpered. Her stomach lurched at his words. He slid his hands over her breasts. "Shh. Don't fight it," he said. "It won't do any good."

Eileen thrashed in sudden dread. She knew, from past experience, that he could do it. Her body could be programmed to respond with sexual arousal to the feel and taste of his come, just as it responded to having his erect cock pushed down her throat. She could see herself being conditioned to the point where she craved his come in her mouth, where the anticipation of it would light her up, where she would yearn for that first gush of hot salty goo spurting across her tongue...

...and at the same time she would still hate it, still loathe the taste and feel of the disgusting stuff. The machine could tear an orgasm from her whether she wanted it or not. It could force her body to associate sexual pleasure with whatever he wanted it to. But another part of her, something not in her body, would still hate it. She would crave it and be repulsed by it at the same time, and being forced to take it would make her come...

He can make me do anything,

she thought.

It doesn't matter what I like. It only matters what he wants me to like. He can program my body to want anything.

The realization electrified her. The fact that he could not only use her in any way he wanted, but that he could make her want it, no matter how much it repelled her, sent powerful shockwaves of arousal right down into her core.

Oh, my God!

Anthony wrapped one arm around her body from behind, pinning her against his chest. His hand squeezed her breast until she could feel his fingers digging in. The flash of pain snapped her back to her senses, to the feel of the Sybian and the taste still filling her mouth. Her eyes grew glassy, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. "Guk!" she said.

"Focus." He twisted a knob, and the machine leaped into full gear. Intense, unstoppable pleasure blasted through her. She tried to shriek, but it came out as a wet gurgle. More white fluid ran from the corner of her mouth.

The orgasm hit, hard. The world went gray. Fierce, toe-curling ecstasy devoured her, the pleasure so intense it almost bordered on pain. Anthony clamped his free hand tightly over her mouth. "Swallow!" he commanded. His fingers twisted her nipple savagely. "Now!"

She obeyed instantly. Warm goo slid down her throat. Her body convulsed in rapture. The orgasm went on and on, waves of raw, overpowering physical pleasure coursing through her without stopping. The entire time, Anthony's voice murmured in her ear. "That's right. You want it. You need my come in your mouth. It tastes so good, doesn't it? You love being a filthy come-slut." She barely even recognized the words, so lost in the ecstasy she could hardly think.

It was over all at once. In an instant, the machine's stimulation went from blissful to excruciating, as if someone had flipped a switch inside her. The squirming, the vibration on her clit, suddenly became too much. Eileen shrieked.

Anthony released her and turned it off. She sat there trembling for a long time, the powerful sensations still ringing through her body. Occasionally, an especially strong aftershock caused her to shudder. Her mind raced.

This is wrong!

she thought.

He can train me any way he wants to, and he doesn't even care if I like it or not!

From somewhere in some deep recess of her mind rose a challenging thought.

You like how he treats you. Look how hard it makes you come.

That's not true!

she protested to herself.

I only come because he forces me to!

Isn't that the point?

came that arguing thought.

You like to be forced. It's the only thing that excites you. You must have wanted him to know that about you. Why else would you tell him about your secret thoughts of pirates and rape?

Eileen flushed. She remembered that night when, giddy from too much wine, she had made her confession. They were in her apartment, just the two of them, curled up beneath a blanket on the floor, drinking wine and talking while a gentle rain pattered on the windows. He had asked about the things that turned her on. She remembered how she had giggled and blushed, how she had stammered as she told him her fantasy about being kidnapped by pirates. She thought about the wild impulse had caused her to reveal her deepest secret to him, to tell him how she had never had an orgasm without thinking about being raped.

That doesn't give him the right to do these things to me!

she thought.

He is just doing this for himself! He thinks he can just put himself in my mouth and in...

Her body shuddered.

In my ass, like I'm some dirty slut, and he can get away with it!

That annoying inner voice responded.

And it excites you when he does those things. You like being forced. It's what you've always fantasized about.

He makes me do things I don't want to do!

she protested to herself.

Of course he does,

came that deep inner voice. That's what makes it exciting. Do you remember what that nurse told you? He does a lot of work to make a life that you find sexually satisfying. Being forced is what you find sexually satisfying.

It's indecent!

she told that calm inner voice.

And you like it,

that inner voice replied.

He says I'm a sex slave! He calls me filthy names!

Eileen said to herself.

You like it. You like hearing that you have a talented ass. When he says that you're the best cocksucker in the city, you are proud of it. When he says he will turn you into the best lay on the Eastern seaboard, it thrills you. You like all of it.

"I don't!" Eileen protested.

"You don't what?" Anthony asked.

Eileen looked at him, startled. She was suddenly aware that she had been sitting motionless on the Sybian, blushing, for several minutes. Without intending to, she had said the last part out loud. "Nothing," she mumbled.

"Oh. Well, in that case, never mind." Anthony grinned. He scooped up the semen that had dripped from the corner of her mouth and pushed his fingers between her lips. She wrapped her lips around them automatically. Her tongue found the large glob of come. He flicked on the Sybian, just for a quick second, turning her gagging noise into a moan.

"That's right," he said. "Soon your body will associate that taste with pleasure. Won't that be fun?" She did not reply.

The routine changed. Each morning, when Anthony woke her and removed her chains, Eileen positioned herself at the foot of the bed and presented her ass for his use, just as she had before. But now he carefully regulated her, telling her to slow down if she became too aroused. His fingertips on her hips guided her, showing her how to move to bring him to orgasm, without letting her come as well.