Training Ch. 04

For the second time since the wedding, he bathed her. This time, though, it felt much different than it ad in the hotel in London. There, she had felt like an object, like a possession he was cleaning to prepare it for use; this time, he was gentle, even sensual, as he washed the filth from her body with a soapy sponge. His eyes were filled with such tenderness that she almost couldn't meet his gaze. She had been certain that when he saw how she had been defiled, he would never want to touch her again, so the kind, tranquil way he washed her clean surprised and confused her.

He used the sponge to soap her thoroughly. His touch felt sensual rather than sexual. She neither helped nor hindered him, instead hanging inertly in the water while he worked. When he had finished, he settled on the edge of the tub and washed her hair. His hands massaged her scalp.

When at last he was satisfied, he rinsed her and wrapped her in a warm, fluffy towel. After he had dried her, he picked her up again and carried her back to the bed. His hands caressed her cheek. "What did you think of the party?"

The tears welled up again. Great shuddering sobs wracked her body. "How can you stand to touch me after what those men did to me?"

He massaged her shoulders gently. "I wanted those men to do that to you. You are a sex slave. Part of what that means is I can give you to other people if I choose."

She flailed and beat her hands on his shoulders. "Why? Why would you do that? No man would want someone who has been spoiled like that! You've ruined me!"

He caught her hands easily. "Ruined you? How?"

"Because!" she sobbed. "Because I am your wife! And now I've...I've been...I've had sex with other men! You must think I'm disgusting!"

"Why would I think that?" He held her wrists in one hand and smoothed the hair away from her face with the other. "I am the one who made it all happen. I spent quite a bit of time arranging this evening for you. It takes more work to put together a gang rape than you might think! I chose each one of the people very carefully to make sure you would enjoy it."

"Anthony! They raped me!"

"Mmm. Yes, they did. I heard it! I was outside the door listening. How many times did you come?"

"That...I don't know!" Fresh tears flowed.

"It sounded like about half a dozen or so to me, but I'm guessing there were probably more. I'm sure there must have been times when your mouth was occupied and I couldn't hear you screaming."

More sobs shook her body. "How could you do this to me?"

"This evening in specific, or making you into a sex slave in general?"

"All of it!"

"Well, now." He undressed slowly and methodically. "Do you remember when we first started seeing each other, how we talked about having sex?"

She nodded. "I told you I wanted to wait."

"And do you remember what else you told me? About your sexual fantasies? About how you would imagine being kidnapped by pirates? Or how you would picture yourself as a princess dragged off to the evil warlord's castle? Do you remember the way you said all of your fantasies were about being taken against your will?"

"That doesn't mean I want it for real! That doesn't give you the right to do those things to me!"

"Eileen, look at me." He gently turned her face toward his. "Tell me the truth. Have you ever, in your entire life, even once had an orgasm when you weren't thinking about being raped? Have you ever been able to come from regular ordinary sex?"

"What difference does that make?" she wailed.

"Do you remember how you told me, when you said that you wanted to wait, how you found sex boring? That you didn't see the point in it?"

She nodded. "So?"

He smiled. His fingers traced a lazy path around her breast and down her body. "Would you prefer a normal, ordinary marriage? Maybe one with boring, pointless sex that never pleased you? A life where you never had an orgasm, never felt sexual at all, until you woke up one day five years down the road and realized that your sexual self felt completely empty?"

She turned away from him silently. "How many orgasms have you had in the time we've been married?" he continued. "How many of the things we have done together make your heart beat faster and your body sing? Would you go back to a sexless relationship if you could?"

He lay down on his side behind her and wrapped an arm around her. His hand cupped her breast. "What happened to you this evening was something you have fantasized about for years. I made your fantasy come true. And the reality was even better than the fantasy, wasn't it?"

She still did not reply. Her sobbing subsided, and she nestled back against him.

"The fact is that you can only orgasm if you feel like you're being coerced. Who knows why that is? It's the way you are, and that's why I do these things to you." His fingers stroked her nipple. "Being a sex slave is what makes sex enjoyable for you."

"No! It's not! That's not true!"

"It is. When you told me that you couldn't go back out dressed in what I made you wear, and I told you that what was about to happen to you could just as easily be done in here, you had some idea of what I had in mind, didn't you? You knew that I was going to let a bunch of men rape you. And that excited you, didn't it? Your nipples got hard and your cunt got all lubed up. You didn't even try to get away, not really. And when they forced themselves on you, it made you come over and over again." He kissed the back of her neck tenderly. "Do you know what the best part about being a sex slave is?"

She shook her head. He rolled her over on her back and pulled her legs apart. "It's always rape. Even if you want it, it's still rape, because you can't say no." He climbed on top of her, pressing her down with his weight.

She struggled. "No! Anthony, no!"

"See?" he grinned. "You can't say no." His hands found her wrists and pinned them above her head. With one shove, he was deep inside her. She screamed and convulsed.

He held her wrists tightly and leaned over her to kiss her gently. Her scream gently subsided into a moan. Her lips parted for his tongue.

He took her that way, thrusting slowly but hard, his lips on hers, until her back arched and she writhed into orgasm. His own orgasm answered hers a few seconds later, and with a shudder he spurted deep into her.

When he was finished, he slipped out of her and curled on the bed next to her panting. His lips kissed her ear softly. "Do you still think I don't want you?"

"No," she whispered, voice tinged with doubt.

"Good." He kissed the center of her forehead. It's time for bed, little whore." He leaned over to reach under the bed and drew out the same set of cuffs on the same long chains he had used on her in London. Her heart beat faster, but she made no outward sign as he locked her, wrist and ankle, into the cuffs, chaining her to the bed. "Sleep well. Tomorrow is a very exciting day. Very exciting indeed!" He drew the covers up over both of them, and she soon drifted to sleep, embraced in chains and his arms.

She woke the next morning to the feel of hands caressing her skin. She opened her eyes slowly to see Anthony, showered and dressed in his bathrobe, leaning over her. He had already freed her from the cuffs and was massaging her shoulders gently with warm oil. As she stirred, he poured a thin stream of oil down over her breasts and her belly. His hands continued to work, sliding down her sides, across her hips, then back up over her breasts to her shoulders, again and again. It felt marvelously relaxing, and she sighed and closed her eyes again.

The memories of the night before came pouring in. Her pussy clenched and moistened. Her eyes flew open. "Anthony!"

"Hush. Relax. You'll undo all my work!" His soothing hands slid over her body. "Turn over. I'll massage your back."

He oiled her back liberally. Strong, practiced hands worked her body. She wanted to let go and simply relax into the massage, but memories of the night before kept intruding. She remembered hard cocks shoving themselves into every part of her body, but even more clearly than that she remembered her own humiliating eagerness, how quickly rape had turned to willingness, how enthusiastically she had given herself to a room full of men she couldn't even see.

Was Anthony right? Was being made to take deviant, vulgar sexual acts the only way she could enjoy sex? Did that make her a sex slave? She could no longer tell herself that she had no choice but to let him do these things to her because she was far from home in a strange country; now, back in her own city, she had many places she could go, yet she still remained, still accepted the shameful and degrading acts he forced on her.

Her body still remembered, too. Even more vividly than her mind, her body still retained the sensation of being taken by many men at once. Anthony's hands worked down the small of her back, slid up over her butt. The touch spawned a sudden aching flash of sensation; she remembered how it had felt to be penetrated twice, the full tightness of two erect shafts pushing inside her, and she arched to press herself against his fingers.

Anthony took his hands away, laughing. "No, little whore. I know you want it, but I'm not going to use you this morning. Doctor's orders!"

"What?"

"Did you forget? You have an appointment with Dr. Moreland today."

"What? Why? I don't need to see him again!"

"Oh, but you do," Anthony said. "Today is going to be an interesting day for you. We'll be starting two new parts of your training! Now get up and get ready. He charges a pretty hefty fee for cancellations."

Eileen rose from the bed resentfully. "What new parts of my training?" The word "training" felt awkward and heavy in her mouth.

"Well, first, we're going to make you want it. At least physically. By this time next month, you'll be constantly craving sex, all the time." He grinned. "I mean even more than you already do. Your body will crave sex all the time, day and night, rain or shine. That part is Dr. Moreland's job." He slipped off his bathrobe and started dressing. "The other part, which is my job, is training you to be the best lay in Boston. Did you ever see that movie The Karate Kid?"

She shook her head, surprised at the sudden change in direction. "No. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Really? You've never seen that movie? Pity. We should rent it. Anyway, there's a scene in there where this karate master makes this kid do a bunch of chores. You know, like painting the house and waxing the car and stuff. Finally the kid gets pissed off, right? And then the karate master shows him that by doing all these chores, he has trained his body in how to move to block punches, so that he doesn't even have to think about it—he just automatically does it." He buttoned his shirt as he spoke. "Same idea. I'm going to train you so that you will automatically do what I want you to do without even thinking about it. Like, as soon as you feel my cock touch your ass, you'll automatically arch your back and push yourself onto me. Even if you're struggling and trying to get away. Or when my cock touches your lips you'll open right up and take it in, even if I'm grabbing you by the hair and forcing you down. It will take," he grinned wider, "a lot of practice. Now get showered and get ready to go. Your appointment is in less than an hour!"