Thank you to all my readers for your continued inspiration and enthusiasm. I hope you like this one.
All characters are over the age of 18. This chapter, like most of this series, features graphic scenes of men having sex with their own daughters, so if that's not something you'd like (which I understand), just be warned. There are also scenes of reluctance and authoritarianism/domination.
I love to hear from my readers. Write me anytime, and remember to include your email address in the PM if you want a reply.
Enjoy,
Robert
****************************
I awoke a bit earlier than usual on Thursday morning, and since I couldn't get back to sleep, I kissed my beautiful slumbering wife, Morgan Lynn, eased out from under the covers, pulled on my comfortable grey sweatpants and a favorite, well-worn Nirvana t-shirt, and crept downstairs to start my day in a leisurely fashion.
Making my way softly down the hall on the way to the kitchen so as not to awaken the twins, Serena and Selena; and passing my daughter Jennifer's door off of the landing as I descended the staircase, I realized I needed to call my handyman to come back and improve the sound-proofing of her room.
We had celebrated Jennifer's Festival a few weeks ago. After years of careful preparation and agonizing waiting, her virginity had been ceremonially taken, along with that of the other local girls in her cohort, on stage in front of a packed and appreciative house at the ornate old Paramount Theatre downtown, and broadcast on live television. She had won first place, which was a great honor, and had been released with the other debutantes to the public as a fresh, new, sexually available girl.
She was now a trainee, which meant that until she was married she was for all intents and purposes considered community property.
All eligible men—having at least one daughter of their own who'd successfully completed her Festival—now shared both the considerable responsibility of teaching her everything they could about every aspect of her new sexual duties, at nearly any time or place the urge or need struck them; and in return enjoyed the right to use her for whatever sexual pleasure they might imagine, since in the final analysis this was the only proper and fundamental purpose of all beautiful young female bodies.
Jennifer was gorgeous, accomplished, intelligent, and a willing trainee, and she had won top marks in the Festival judging for the perfection of her vagina, among other accolades, and her training schedule had been brisk since her big day; it seemed as if every eligible man in town, feeling the weight of both their educational responsibilities and of their testicles, had rushed to reserve her and to enjoy her exquisite beauty as they taught her their most vigorous, penetrating lessons.
As I tiptoed past her door now in the dawn light, even the good work my usually trusty handyman had already done in preparation for her new life was insufficient to fully mute what sounded like a particularly vigorous and probing early morning training session she was receiving from some enthusiastic male; and the muffled thumps and squeaks of her white, canopied princess bed, and her labored, plaintive cries as she absorbed what were evidently powerfully moving and deeply stimulating lessons from her trainer—whose heavy breathing and curt, guttural instructions to spread her legs wider and give herself to him hinted at the great effort and focus he was bringing to his teaching duties—still made their way, much intact, through her bedroom door.
I shook my head with a little smile and continued to the kitchen, making a note to call my guy later and have him reinforce his previous work; it would probably be best for him to live-test it on her when he was finished this time, to make sure the rest of the household wasn't unnecessarily disrupted by the sounds of our eldest daughter's frequent and often noisy education.
In the kitchen I made some coffee, and took to the big sectional in the living room to comfortably peruse the latest issue of American Girl Trainer Monthly, which had arrived yesterday along with one of my other favorite periodicals, Modern Girl Handling.
As I took my seat in the early sunbeams pouring through the window, I heard the sound of the private trainer's door to Jennifer's bedroom, which opened directly to the side walkway of the house; and a minute later the diesel engine of a big pickup truck rumbled to life as it drove away at the same time as the hiss of the shower filtered from the bathroom across the hall.
American Girl Trainer Monthly was a respected magazine known for its insightful analysis, interviews with top-level girl handlers, and rigorous, effective instructional features on all aspects of teaching and training eligible girls, and I dug into this month's features on the 5 Tips for Helping Shy Girls Feel Sexy Once They're Naked; a pictorial entitled Louisiana Spotlight: Southern Charmers' Southern Charms, profusely illustrated in its efforts to demonstrate the uniquely lush pleasures of well-bred New Orleans girls' pedigreed vaginas (widely considered to be paragons of the form); and Not Our First Rodeo—But Maybe Hers, a think piece on the new and fast-growing sport of competitive girl handling.
Originating in the bars and backlots of more rural areas of the country, then exploding in popularity as a result of a hit show on a scrappy underdog cable network, competitive girl handling comprised a varied and rapidly expanding collection of timed contests.
Typically variations on a theme, the competitions saw trainers, assigned a girl by random drawing, racing the clock to stimulate her successfully to the greatest number and highest intensity of orgasms their skills could elicit in front of an enthusiastic audience.
Points were given for the creativity and craftsmanship a handler showed in his work; the rapidity with which a girl achieved her first climax; and the emotional and physical spectacularity of her orgasms at the trainer's hand, along with their duration.
The classes of competition were ever-expanding as well, and included various age categories for both handler and girl, different combinations of numbers of handlers and girls (one of the most popular new classes, favored for its inherent drama and the sheer volume of stimulation to which it subjected the girl, was 3M1G); bound and pain-based competitions (typically using girls found guilty of severe misbehavior, as a sentence of punishment and as an opportunity for them to signify their contrition and willingness to reform); and variations in the type and amount of equipment available to the handler, from minimalist, purist-oriented contests in which only his hands and penis were allowed to be used on the girl, to a range of competitions spanning the spectrum of paddles, vibrators, dildoes, and machines.
An essential attraction of the sport was that the
girls were understood to be experiencing authentic, pleasurable climaxes, which could only be achieved by a highly skilled combination of rapport-building with a random, unfamiliar young girl under immense time and pressure constraints, requiring the possession of an almost preternatural sense for how and where to touch and caress her in the most pleasurable and disarming manner possible, as well as a solid understanding of young female anatomy and psychology.
Eliciting an intense, aesthetically pleasing orgasm in a girl was considered a craft, and the final result was a work of art as a successful round ended in a shuddering, moaning creature making a delicious mess all over the competition table as her handler fucked her into incoherence and orgasmic bliss before the applauding crowd.
Girls were generally supplied for competitions by local magistrates, who would often commute light sentences in exchange for the miscreant's participation; beautiful and naturally orgasmic girls could become minor celebrities on the competition circuit, however, and the excitement and adventure had begun to attract some regular, otherwise well-behaved girls to submit themselves for the purpose, and to spend a few months as the objects of masterly attention at the hands of top-level handlers.
There was still a vigorous debate concerning the ethics of the sport; a vocal and growing fringe movement was calling for society to progress beyond the Festival process as it now existed, and for all girls to undergo a mandatory period of sexual indentureship during which they would truly be considered property, and could be traded and sold among eligible men, and kept in private stables and collected, trained, and shared at will by the handlers that owned them for the first three years after their Festival.