Training Ch. 03

They left the restaurant and walked out into the city street under a sky less sunny and brooding with the promise of rain. Eileen's body felt electric, alive with need; as she stepped onto the sidewalk, a vivid memory flashed through her of the feel of hard metal sliding into her ass, so powerful she stumbled and nearly fell. Anthony's strong hand steadied her, and he watched her neutrally as she regained her composure. "Please," she whispered hoarsely.

"Please what? Please take you back to the hotel room and fuck you hard?" Dark eyes watched her with amusement.

She shook her head. "No..."

"I think you need to learn to ask for what you want a little better." His voice sounded calm and serious, in contrast to the mischief that danced behind his eyes. "Very well. We'll head back now."

They had made it nearly to the tube station when the weather changed. The sky darkened as clouds slid over the sun; then, with no warning, the light, cold rain fell. The rain soaked through Eileen's sundress almost instantly; wet fabric, made nearly transparent, clung to her like a second skin. Her lack of undergarments was immediately obvious to all who looked in her direction; dark nipples erect and prominent on the heavy curve of her breasts, a triangle of pubic hair just visible between her legs.

Horrified, she covered herself with her hands and raced for the station. She had not yet mastered the art of running gracefully with legs wide, and her awkwardness only increased her embarrassment. Eyes followed her down the stairs and into the London underground.

The damage had been done; her clothing was already drenched, and the retreat into the sterile tile-lined sanctuary of the station offered no comfort. If anything, it made things worse; the station was filled with people, and there was no way she could cover herself from all of them. The platform was a sea of faces-some hostile, some curious, some downright hungry, all looking at her.

To make things worse still, her embarrassment did nothing to distract her from her need. If anything, it only made her arousal greater. Visions passed through her head of hands pushing her against the tiled wall, lifting her skirt, strange men forcing themselves into her, giving her what she needed to soothe the desperate itch inside her. Her face reddened with shame at the thoughts.

Anthony followed her down the stairs at a more leisurely pace. She fled to him and wrapped her arms around him, shielding herself from the stares with his body. They stayed that way, with Anthony stroking her hair, until a rush of air announced the arrival of the train.

"Get in." He turned her toward the train. She felt exposed again; eyes followed while she walked across the platform in the wet white dress. He held her by one arm, simultaneously protecting and exposing her, preventing her from covering herself.

The train was packed with passengers, and her heart sank when she realized she would not be able to sit down. They moved quickly toward the back of the car, where Anthony casually reached up and took hold of one of the straps overhead. Eileen wrapped her arms around him from behind and buried her face in his shoulder to hide herself from the people crowded around them.

The train lurched into motion. Eileen felt the stranger next to her stumble and fall against her. The train picked up speed, but the man remained pressed against her, sandwiching her between himself and Anthony. She squirmed uncomfortably and buried her face deeper in her husband's shoulder, reluctant to look at the stranger pressing tightly against her.

They rocketed into the dark tunnel. The lights in the car flickered erratically as the train sped down the tracks. Anthony seemed indifferent to her plight; he stood casually, relaxed, his back to her, one hand holding the strap, legs slightly angled against the motion of the train. She felt trapped, unable to move without exposing herself, while the arousal and need gnawed at her.

Quietly, bit by bit, Anthony's other hand crept down and backward. He slid it surreptitiously between their bodies. His face betrayed no sign as his hand slipped over her mound, and his fingers pressed against her clit through wet fabric. She shuddered and moaned softly. "Stop it," she breathed.

That moan, and the tiny motion of her hips she could not prevent, were lost to the people on the crowded car...but not to the man behind her. He leaned into her, hard enough that she could feel the bulge straining in his pants. His hand brushed the side of her breast lightly. Anthony's fingers pressed hard against her clit, causing a wash of pleasure and need so powerful her knees buckled and she would have fallen had she not been pinned tightly between them.

The stranger behind her leaned forward. Teeth grazed the side of her neck. She froze, unwilling to move or cry out for fear of attracting attention. Her breathing came in rapid gasps, warm against Anthony's shoulder while his fingers pressed into her in a subtle, secret molestation. The stranger kissed and nipped her neck, and she moaned again, nipples painfully hard against her husband's back. Soon her hips were grinding into him, and the hard erection beneath the stranger's pants awoke an even deeper hunger within her.

The train screeched and shuddered to a halt. Eileen scarcely noticed, lost in her own uncontrollable arousal, until Anthony took his fingers away and stepped forward. "Our stop," he said, and took her by the hand.

She risked a quick glance backward as they left the train. A man stared at her out the window-her mystery assailant? She couldn't be entirely sure. She had a brief impression of a young face, heavy eyebrows over wide, startled eyes, before the train moved off.

Outside, the steady drizzle continued. The crowd on the sidewalk was sparse, perhaps because people of good sense had already escaped the rain. She tried to walk quickly back toward the hotel, but he held her hand firmly and prevented her from getting ahead of him. She brought her arm up across her breasts to hide them; he glared at her, lips pursed, and pulled her hand away from her body. "No."

They walked that way back to the hotel, his hand holding hers tightly, while passers by gaped at her body, exposed through the transparent dress. Water dripped from her hair, streamed down her body, made the dress stick tightly to her. Every step reminded her of the burning itch inside her. More than anything, she wanted to run, to flee to the hotel room, though she could not quite tell if it was to escape the people staring at her, or to feel the blessed relief of having something buried within her tingling sex.

At long last, they were crossing the threshold into the hotel. Anthony released her hand, and she ran to the safety of the elevator, not even caring that the spikes strapped to her thighs raked her as she went.

Neither of them spoke on the ride up to the room. When they reached their floor, her heart was thudding so wildly it threatened to burst from her chest. She needed relief badly, ached desperately to feel his hard cock fill her up, and hated how much she needed it. Everything she had ever been taught about how a woman should be was being stripped from her, and she felt helpless to control even her own responses.

As the door closed behind them, she expected him to come for her, force himself on her, give her what she both needed and feared. Instead, he went to the closet and dragged out the large trunk. "Strip," he commanded, without even looking at her.

"What?" Confusion mixed with her arousal. She'd expected him to take her by force the moment they walked in the door; a part of her had even counted on it. But instead he was fiddling with something in the trunk. Apprehension rose. "What are you doing? Aren't you going to-to, you know..."

"Aren't I going to what?" He sounded amused.

"Aren't you going-I mean, I thought..." Her voice quavered. "Aren't you going to make me have sex with you?" The last part came out scarcely in a whisper.

He laughed. "Is that what you want?"

"No!" she cried automatically.

"Well, in that case, no. I'm not going to make you have sex with me."

She squirmed and wailed in frustration. Her hands pressed between her legs, fingers working against her swollen clit through wet cloth. "Please!"

"Why so fidgety?" he teased. "Do you need a cock in you, you filthy sex-starved little whore?" He grinned and chuckled. "I have something else in mind, actually. Don't worry, you'll like it. Now strip!"

Something in his tone made her hesitate for a second before she pulled the dress off over her head. Her hair fell in a wet tangle over shoulders beaded with water. She stood naked save for the spikes strapped and locked around her thighs.

"Come over here." He pointed to a contraption he had assembled. A short, black, vaguely saddle-like seat, roughly the same shape as a round-topped mailbox, sat on the floor. A thick dildo jutted up from its center. Clearly, and horrifyingly, he meant for her to sit on it, so that the dildo went inside her. Worse yet were the leather straps affixed to its sides, obviously intended to be strapped around her legs, to keep her from being able to get up off of it. The part that made her heart beat fastest, though, was the metal bar bolted to the end of the saddle-shaped device. It ended in a T-shaped crossbar, also metal. A pair of cuffs dangled from the ends of the "T," and a large red button was mounted in the center of the "T," where the upright part met the crossbar. Overall, the thing looked intimidating, like some sort of Rube Goldberg torture device, and she backed away, shaking her head.

He closed the distance between them in two quick strides. "Perhaps I didn't make myself as clear as I should have," he said mildly. "That was not a request." He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. "Come here." With one hand on her elbow and one hand gripping her hair, he pulled her over to the machine and forced her to stand straddling it. "Sit."

She screamed. "No! I don't want to!" Fear of what he was going to do to her knotted in her stomach, where it combined with the embarrassment from the trip back to the hotel and the wild, burning need between her legs, and she realized, in some small corner of her mind, that shedid want to, more than anything else in the world. Her pussy clenched at the thought of the thick, smooth dildo penetrating her, and she felt herself grow wet. The one thing she could not bring herself to do, despite all her need, was admit it.

He watched her calmly, saw the realization dawn in her eyes. "Sit," he said, "or I will force you down on it, and believe me, I won't be gentle."

A tear slid down her cheek. She turned her head away from him and knelt slowly over the saddle. Slowly, bit by bit, she lowered herself until the dildo just touched her glistening wetness. Her stomach did flip-flops and her nerve failed. "I can't!"

He stood over her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Strong fingers worked into her muscles, massaging her. "Sit. You need something inside you. I know how badly you want it; I felt you grinding against that man on the train."

"No!" Her face turned scarlet; that same tiny corner of herself knew it was true.

"Sit." His muscles flexed, and he pushed her down hard on the saddle. The dildo thrust up inside her with such force that it sucked her breath away, and left her unable to scream. She clawed wildly at him; it hurt, and it felt good, and she didn't know whether to cry or moan.

"Now, then," he said as he knelt beside her. "The device you're sitting on is called a Sybian. It's probably the best invention yet created for making women come, as you'll soon find out." He unlocked the spikes around her thighs. "I've made a few modifications to it myself, one of which is these straps." She yelped as he buckled the leather straps tightly around her legs, so that they held her firmly on the saddle.

"The other modification I've made is this part." He grabbed her wrists and buckled them into the cuffs attached to the arms of the "T." They held her arms stretched out on each side of her body and forced her to lean forward.

"Now, before I go any further, it's time for a demonstration. You will notice that there is a large red button right in front of you. When this button is pushed..." He chuckled. "You will like it a lot." He pressed the button, and the dildo came to life with a deep, loud, raspy buzz. It didn't vibrate, exactly, and it didn't move up and down; instead, itsquirmed within her, with a strange motion that somehow managed to hit every single pleasure center inside her grasping pussy all at once. At the same time, the base of the dildo vibrated powerfully against her clit.

The world disappeared. Wave after wave of pleasure hammered her body. She threw back her head and screamed in ecstasy unlike anything she had ever imagined possible. Her body sang with it, her nipples tightened, and she ground herself down against the saddle. "Oh, God," she moaned, "oh God, oh God yes!"

And it was gone.

She gasped raggedly and opened her eyes. Anthony had taken his finger from the button, and just as simple as that, the machine stopped.

"Did that feel good, little whore? I told you that you'd like it." He grinned. "I'm going to leave you tied to the Sybian until you make yourself come. All you have to do is press the button to turn it on again. Of course, with your hands bound, you'll need to press it with your nose, but that shouldn't be too hard to do, right? It's right there, right in front of you."

She leaned forward to press the button, and he chuckled and pulled her head back by the hair. "Not so fast. See, there's a hole in the bar just below the button. Do you know what's for? Let me show you." He took a long, thin dildo made of bright green rubber from the trunk. "This goes through the hole like so." He fed the dildo through the hole, so that it jutted out toward her face. "There's a clamp to hold it here. In order to press the button with your nose, you'll have to take the dildo in your mouth."

She looked away from him as he continued. "To be honest, I didn't know if we would get to this part of your training or not. But I figured that if you were half the slut I thought you were, your training would go far more quickly than anyone else realized. We will do this every afternoon. Now, this part of your training will have two effects. First, it will teach your body to associate pleasure and sexual relief with having something in your mouth. By the time our honeymoon is over, you will become aroused any time anything is shoved into your mouth. You may even find that you will come just from having your mouth fucked."

She twisted in the saddle, impaled on the Sybian, and felt helpless. Tears of powerlessness and shame filled her eyes while he went on.

"Second, each day I will move the dildo one quarter of an inch farther through the hole. That means that every day you will have to take it that much farther down your throat in order to reach the button. So in addition to learning to associate pleasure with having your mouth filled, you will also teach yourself how to deep throat. The only way you'll be able to get pleasure from the machine is by taking this big rubber cock down your throat."

She began crying softly. "Why?"

"Why? Because I like making you give me head, and I'm going to train you to like it too."

"No, why everything? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you forcing me to do these things? It's not right! It's not fair! You-" She choked, and the tears flowed harder. "You're degrading me!"

He crouched next to her and stroked her cheek gently. "Because you want it."

"No!" she sobbed. "No, I don't! I don't want to be a sex slave! Please, stop! Don't do this to me!"

"No? You don't like it?" The amused tone was back. He pulled her head back and gripped one breast tightly. "You don't like when I do things like this?"

Her nipple hardened again under his hand and she sighed. The sound made him chuckle. "That's what I thought. When I first met you, I thought you were a prude trapped in the body of a sex-crazed whore. It just took the right kind of prodding to bring it out in you, that's all. It turned out to be pretty easy, too, I might add."

"No!" she protested, even as she pressed forward trembling into his hand,

"Oh, no? How many orgasms have you had since we got here, hmm? Why do you think all your fantasies are about force and rape? How come being made to do things gets you off?" He laughed again and stood. "The way I see it, this arrangement gives us both what we want. I get to fuck you any time I want to in any way I want to, and you get a very comfortable living as a stay-at-home housewife. I'll leave you to it now." With that, he turned and walked into the other room. Eileen heard him settle into the couch and turn on the television. She slumped in the saddle for a while, arms outstretched, feeling helpless and sorry for herself. The things he had said weren't true, she told herself. They couldn't be! She was not some kind of slut, who just wanted sex all the time...

After a time, her tears stopped. She became aware of the dildo inside her, and the tingling that still lingered there. She tugged at the cuffs around her wrist, but they were too tight for her to slip out of. With her arms held out to her sides, she could not reach them with her teeth; there was no way she could free herself.

The dildo was mounted just below the button; she could not press it by moving her head around the long rubber phallus. The thought of taking it in her mouth sickened her, yet in spite of that the itch inside her grew, and all she could think about was how good it had felt when the machine was running.

She leaned forward and closed her lips around the head of the dildo. It felt dirty and degrading, like something only a bad girl would do-the kind of girl her mother had given her such dire warnings about. Her body trembled and her pussy tightened.

She moved her head forward a little bit more. The button was still just out of reach. The rubber dildo slid deeper into her mouth. A bit more, and it hit the back of her throat, just as her nose grazed the button.

She took a deep breath and pressed forward. The bulbous end of the dildo filled the back of her throat, and she choked just as the machine came to life. A jolt of pleasure shot up through her, causing her to throw back her head and cry out. "Gnnnngh!"

Instantly, it switched off again. She howled with frustration.

"You have to keep pushing the button if you want it to keep running," Anthony called from the other room.

She jerked and yanked on the cuffs that bound her. "It's not fair!" she said petulantly. No answer came.

With great reluctance, she took the dildo in her mouth again. She paused for a moment, took several deep breaths, then closed her eyes tightly and moved her head forward. It slid down to the back of her throat as her nose touched the button. The Sybian buzzed to life again. She held it down and struggled not to gag as a wave of intense, toe-curling pleasure slammed through her. It mounted quickly until it was almost unbearable, so overpowering that her hands curled into fists and a cry of ecstasy was ripped from her throat. She coughed and choked and fought to hold still as her orgasm raced up on her, closer and closer. The choking sensation grew faster, though, and with her orgasm only seconds away, she could take no more and pulled her head away. The machine stopped, leaving echoes of pleasure throbbing through her. She sat gasping for long enough to take a few quick breaths, then took the dildo in her mouth and pressed the button again.

The machine buzzed. Sexual pleasure slammed through her. She clenched hard around the thrumming shaft and screamed. The scream turned to a choke, and she sat back again, coughing, frustrated. Her body dripped with sweat.