Cross Training

"Trish, Trish," Carter called to her, "Your master has come. It's time to come for your master." He pushed his left thumb between her thick, rubbery lips. "Suck this. Suck. Sweetly, gently, suck and come." he cooed to his pet, feeling a soft vacuum tugging his pollex while her cunt grabbed and squeezed his forefinger. Trish's hips slid on the sheet as Carter introduced his middle finger, beside his index finger. into her slick, sticky channel. "Ohhh... unnn... mmm..." she moaned around his thumb, drawing it tighter between her pursed lips. When Carter thought she was at the edge, he pushed his right hand hard into her twat and flattened his right thumb pad against her swollen clit. "Come, Toots!" He commanded. "Come! Come! Come for me!"

"Aaargghh!" Trish cried, biting Carter's thumb. She came, in her dream, under the unseen master's influence, consumed by the his wonderful voice and her ecstatic sexual agony.

Carter felt his cock get hard again as she thrashed and bit. He pulled his hand away from her pussy and replaced it with his stiffening dick. Risking the possibility that remnant seeds, from his recent intercourse with Peri, may yet be hovering, gathering for another quick foray, he plunged his rod into Trish until his balls slapped her ass cheeks. He stayed, but a moment, then pulled back, covered with her goo. Laying on top of her, he trapped his cock between their fat stomachs and scraped his thumb past her teeth, out of her hungry, chewing mouth. Kissing her passionately he rubbed against her until at last, SPLOOT! a solitary squad of left-behind jism shot from his mushroom onto Trish's torso, landing in a streak reaching to the small pimple on her breast bone.

"Very good, Trish!" Carter praised his thrall, as he rolled off of her and propped himself on his left arm. "Now, listen to me carefully. I have news and instructions. Are you listening?" he asked, noticing she was again laying

quiet and immobile.

"Yes, Master," Trish said in a familiar hollow voice.

"Good." Carter began the re-programming. "First and foremost, I am still the master of your box with its only key and you will always listen for my voice to tell you whether your box is open or closed. That does not change. Next, from now on you will always address me as either 'Dr. Carter' or 'Dr. C," no matter where you are, who you are with, or whether your box is open, closed or on my shelf." Carter put his right hand idly on Trish's chest and lightly rubbed his grease into the blemish on her sternum. "Tell me you understand these instructions, please," he directed.

"Yes, Dr. Carter," Trish answered in a monotone, "You are my master at all times and I am only to address you as Dr. C or Dr. Carter."

"Thank you, Trish," Carter replied, "That's correct. Although I may call you 'Toots' or 'Trish' or any other name I choose and you will be happy because you love me and the sound of my voice and want always to listen and obey. Is this understood?" he asked, moving his hand to massage her left, mounded, breast.

"Yes, Dr. C."

"Excellent," he praised. "Peri is your best friend, your tutor and my personal assistant. You must always pay attention to any instruction she gives you and obey her, as you would me. In the unlikely event one of Peri's instructions is contrary to my own, you will simply say, 'Dr. Carter prefers not,' and you will not follow that instruction from Peri." He pulled at Trish's nipple and listened to her low guttural "hhhnnn" as he released it and then tugged it again. "Will you obey Peri as you would me?" he asked.

"Yes, Dr. C.," Trish answered, "uhhnn... uhnless she asks me to disobey yoooo...uhhn."

Carter switched to Trish's right breast and massaged the tissue, before pulling on her areola and nipple as he had been doing to her left side. "That's right, Toots," Carter said softly, "Listen to your master. Feel my touch. Love my touch. Live for my voice and touch. Are you feeling me? Will you come again, for me?" he asked.

"Uuhnn... yesss," Trish gasped, "Yyyeesss, pleee...zzze!" she begged, whimpering as Carter tormented her tits.

"Very well, then," Carter answered, "Let's see." He positioned himself between Trish's trunk-like, milk-white thighs and slipped his hands under her broad ass cheeks. Pushing his face into her pink cunt, as if in a pie-eating contest, he slurped and lapped her oozing juices. Reflexively, Trish grabbed Carter's hair and held his face tight against her pussy, squirming and moaning. Carter swiftly brought her to the peak and beyond, digging his fingers into her fleshy bottom as he sucked her throbbing clit and drank deeply from her flooding fount.

When Trish was, again, quiet and her orgasm had ebbed, Carter resumed his instructions. "Trish, you soon will return you to your natural, virgin state. You will be happy, with no barriers or inhibitions when you are with me or with Peri. When I lock and put away your box with my special word, you will only remember your instructions. You will continue your daily pimple inspections. You will continue to wear dresses and skirts unless specifically instructed otherwise by me or by Peri. You may wear panties and tights if you choose, unless I, or Peri, say differently. When you waken from your trance you will not remember any activity you participated in while your box was open. All those experiences are vague pleasant dreams, inaccessible to your conscious mind. Do you understand? Tell me you understand."

"I will remember my instructions and follow them. I am a virgin and you are my master. Peri also gives me instructions. I have sweet dreams and do not remember them. I am happy and uninhibited when I am with you or with Peri," Trish recited.

"Excellent!" reinforced Carter, with a warm kiss to Trish's mouth. His tongue darted between her lips and played with hers briefly. "There is one more instruction, Toots," he added as he broke the kiss. "Everything you do with, or for, me or Peri, is a secret from anyone else. If anyone does not have first-hand direct knowledge of what we do, then you must not share information with them. You will know if they have that knowledge because you will have personally been there with them. If anyone asks about our project or what we do, your safe answer is always 'You may ask Dr. Carter or Peri about that.' Tell me you understand this instruction and what you must do when outsiders ask questions."

"Yes, Dr. Carter," Trish said, "I understand our project is our secret and I may safely refer any questions to you or to Peri," she summarized.

"Outstanding, Trish!" Carter said, getting off the bed. He went into the closet and found a flowing, beige negligee and peignoir set from Ruth's old wardrobe. Returning, he said, "PRESTO. Hey, Toots, good morning!" Tossing the sleepwear to the teenager he added, "Put that on and come out to the kitchen. I think Peri has coffee and juice for us."

"Yay, Dr. C!" she clapped, getting out of bed and giving him a big naked hug, still holding the nightie in her hands behind his back. "For some reason I am famished... I hope there's toast or something solid to nibble." She laughed and dropped her hand to fondle Carter's overworked cock. It twitched slightly, to his surprise, but did not thicken. "Oh oh," she said, "Too early for you?"

"I have a lot on my mind this morning, Toots," he answered evasively. Backing out of her embrace, he stepped into the bathroom. Carter pulled on his shorts and robe, then walked past Trish as she was slipping the negligee over her head. "That looks nice on you," he complimented.

Just then Peri poked her head in at the bedroom door. "Hey! aren't you coming? The toast and bagels will be cold soon," she admonished, turning and retreating toward the kitchen.

"On our way, Sweetheart," Carter assured her and walked down the hall behind her, followed closely by Trish.

The girls sat at the breakfast nook table spreading jams and marmalade on slices of toasted bread and bagels. Carter standing at the counter nearby, gulped down his orange juice and sipped his mug of coffee. He stared lovingly and lustily at the co-eds' combined and individual pulchritude. Interrupting their chatter, he said, "Listen, you two, I have to grab a shower, shave and get ready to go in to the office." He swallowed some coffee and continued, "I think I can get Ms. Cohen to take you along to her Thursday yoga class. If the instructor admits you, it will be a great extracurricular activity. Would you like me to try that?" he asked.

"Heck yes!" Peri exclaimed immediately, thinking about the opportunity to get closer to Ruth. "Let's do it, Trish!"

"Yeah, sure," Trish agreed, dubious but compliant, "If you think it's a good idea, then I do, too."

"Great," Carter finalized, "I'll work the logistics, while you girls go shopping for leotards and sweatpants." He said to Peri, "You know what to get and where... Take Trish and get outfitted."

"Cool, Uncle Bill! Will do!" Peri assured him, winking at Trish.

"Yeah, thanks, Dr. C!" Trish echoed, finishing her toast. She stood and gave Carter a big smooch on the cheek, leaving behind a blob of strawberry jam. "Oops! Sorry about that!" she giggled, wiping it off with her finger and sticking it in his mouth before he could turn away.

"It's alright," Carter answered them both. "My pleasure. Drop by the office before 3 p.m. though. Ruth leaves early to get to the class." He moved between the girls and left the kitchen.

At 7 o'clock Carter appeared in his customary slacks, sport coat and tie, ready for the Counseling Center. The teens had cleared the dishes and made the kitchen spick and span and were finishing the last of the coffee, making girl-talk.

Carter came over and gave each an attentive rub and a warm kiss. Tossing a credit card on the table, he headed for the garage. "Lock up when you leave, Peri," he said over his shoulder at the door, "See you later!"

"You want the shower first or second, Trish?" Peri asked as she heard the garage door closing.

"Well, I don't know how much water Dr. Carter left us. Maybe we should jump in together?" Trish offered, hesitantly.

"Great idea!" Peri declared, standing up and taking their empty mugs to the dishwasher. "Let's go and then find some exercise clothes!"

**THURSDAY 8 A.M.**

Carter walked into the main Counseling Center office and checked his mailbox. Leafing through the usual accumulation of bureaucratic nonsense, he eyed Ruth Cohen at her desk. She was on the phone and turned three-quarters around away from him, facing her computer terminal and the large window looking out to the campus commons. Her medium length brunette hair, usually curving in a helmet-cut to the base of her neck, was pulled back into a knot. She had on the horn rimmed glasses she often used when she had a lot of data entry facing her. This morning she wore a pale blue silk blouse with three buttons down the back ending just above her visible bras strap lines. The blouse had a ruffled bow tied and draped over her rising bust and was tucked into a light, gray, worsted wool skirt.

As she hung up the receiver Carter stepped around her desk and greeted her. "Good Morning, Ruth." He smiled and continued, "That's a pretty outfit you have on today."

"Good Morning, Dr. Carter," she answered, "Thanks, the blouse is new." She was pleased by his compliment, but suspicious of his motives. "What does the old coot want now, I wonder" Ruth said to herself, maintaining a pleasant demeanor.

Carter looked at his watch. "Give me 10 minutes to sort these messages out, then come to my office, please, would you?" he asked in an even voice.

"Sure thing," said Cohen. "Uh-huh... I knew he wanted something..." she mused. At 35, Ruth had a well developed sense about men and bosses. She appreciated she needed to work, being single with no particular interest in marriage or kids, and for all the hoopla about equality, academia was still very much a 'man's world.' At least, it was, if the woman was an administrative assistant, secretary, or some other functionary.

Carter was alright by her estimation. He did not demand too much, was generally courteous, and had helped her when she came into the department, new, with some personal self-esteem and weight-related issues. Still, she was not about to let her defenses down with any man, and certainly not with her supervisor.

At 8:15 she forwarded the phones to the office voice-mail system. walked down the hall and knocked on Carter's door. As she entered she heard Wagner playing on the CD and saw Carter, standing behind his desk, facing the drawn, heavy olive drapes, with his back to her. The office was dimly lit and when she heard Carter say "PRALINE" an electric bolt shot through her body from throat to twat. "Close the door and lock it, please, Ruth." he commanded, firmly in a neutral tone.

"Yes, Bill," she replied, turning the bolt and waiting for his next instruction. She could listen to his voice, his masterful voice, endlessly.

"Thank you," Carter said, "Now please step forward to the desk, I want to look more closely at your face." As Ruth stepped to the front edge of the desk, Carter turned around and focused the harsh light of his Sinatra lamp directly into Ruth's eyes. She blinked and squinted at the brightness.

"It's just as I thought," Carter said, sadly, as he snapped off the lamp, leaving the room lit only by the side light on his small credenza and a Tiffany shaded hanging lamp by his stereo. "Ruth, why are you wearing that platinum lip gloss?" Carter demanded sternly. "We discussed this once. It makes you look trashy. Do you want the young college boys to think you are a MILF Slut?"

"Um, I d-don't know, Dr. Carter," Ruth stammered, "I don't re-remember that. I-I-I-'m SORRY!" Tears welled up and she sniffed. She knew she was in trouble. Carter walked around the desk. He wore leather driving gloves and carried a box of Kleenex. Standing beside his distraught secretary, he reached over and wiped away the tears. Using the wet tissue he smeared the gloss roughly over Cohen's mouth and chin. "How do you think those horny little shits think of you when you are using that slutty lipstick?" He pursued, picking up a small hand mirror from his desk and holding it in front of Ruth.

"I-I-I don't know," she blubbered, "I did-didn't think about it like that." Ruth hung her head, feeling ashamed and sad that Carter was upset with her.

"I know you didn't THINK about it, Ruth," Carter went on, quietly upbraiding his pet, "If you had THOUGHT about it, you would not have forgotten I have asked you to wear simple, professional, make-up at the office." He wiped the shredding tissue across her lips, spreading the gloss past the corners of her mouth, out onto her cheeks. "Do I love you? Do I think you are sexy? Do I fuck you and make you come every time?" He asked, keeping his voice low and his tone steady.

"Yes, Master," Ruth answered. Even though she knew she had permission to call Carter 'Bill', in private, she hoped returning to 'Master' would save her from punishment greater than a talking-to. Eying the gloves, warily, she added, "I love you and how you fuck me and make me come every time. I have no interest in the boys or in other men. You are my master and my reason for being." She whimpered and sniveled some more. "I am sorry. Please, forgive me, Master," she pleaded.

"Well, of course I forgive you, Baby," Carter said with an easy smile, taking another tissue and dabbing it in a jar of cold cream near the mirror he had just laid down. "I am not a beast, or even a mean master, now, am I?" He queried as he cleaned away the lipstick mess he had made on her face.

"N-no," Ruth agreed with heartfelt sincerity, "No, you are good to me and I love you totally and forever," she said, as her sobs stopped. She smiled weakly at Carter, hoping her chastisement was concluded.

"That's right and that's good," Carter declared, "And I need to know you will not forget again," he added, placing his gloved left hand on her bottom. "Please bend over the desk and place your hands on the edge on the other side. You will notice there is space for you."

Ruth looked at her master and knew she must comply. Bending at the waist, she stretched her stomach and chest across the vacant area in front of her, reached her arms forward and clutched the far rim. Her face, left cheek down, turned toward the stereo wall as 'Ride of the Valkyries' commenced. A tear rolled from her eye, along her nose and lip, stopping at the corner of her mouth.

Carter unhooked her waistband and slowly pulled the zipper tab over her mounded ass. The skirt slid easily on Ruth's silk half slip and fell to the floor around her black high heels. He carefully raised Cohen's new blouse above her bra and tucked it gently into her strap, baring her mid-back. Then he lifted the hem of the half-slip and pushed it, with gentle downward pressure, over her white nylon panties until her bra strap was covered with a 4-inch collar of silk, neatly laid and out of the way.

Ruth whimpered softly, anticipating her doom, feeling sorry, for herself and for her actions which brought on her predicament. Carter studied her wide bottom, pressed against the tight, thin, nylon briefs. Ruth's thick, dark bush poked its hairs at the edges of the panties' leg seams and shadowed the plump crease, in their cotton crotch panel, as it disappeared between her muscular thighs. He unsnapped her rear garters and flipped her suspenders up, giving himself a clear field.

SMACK! He brought his gloved left hand down hard on Ruth's left glute. It quivered at the impact and his palm print remained in the material as he raised his hand again. SMACK! Ruth, no longer anticipating, yelped, sobbing in earnest. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Each spank was measured in time and force to land precisely. Carter did not want the effect of one blow to lessen the effect of the next, nor did he want a sensory recovery period. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! With the eighth blow he quickly stepped to Ruth's other side and switched hands. Repeating the cadence, he delivered eight more solid, resounding spanks to her right globe. Ruth wept, clutched the desk for support, bit her lip and burbled how sorry she was and how she would never forget anything her master told her again.

After the sixteenth slap, Carter stopped. He peeled his gloves from his reddened, warm hands and tossed them onto the desk top beside Ruth's tear-streaked, trembling face. "There, there, baby," he said in a low, soothing voice, as he rubbed his palms lightly over Ruth's bottom, still twitching beneath her nearly sheer underwear. "You were a brave, good girl and accepted your punishment properly. I am so sorry we had to have this reinforcement, however I am very, very pleased to hear you apologize and swear not to make me paddle you again." Ruth found his calm voice made her feel everything was alright once again. She was glad and gave a shuddering sigh. Her sobbing stopped.

Carter continued to massage his prior targets. He stepped behind Ruth, between her legs, and slid his hands over their mass, still pink beneath the white panties. Hooking his fingers at the waistband he pulled the panties down, over her bottom, below her thighs, until they fell, from gravity, to the floor, and bunched around her skirt. He noted, not with surprise, Ruth's pussy was wet and having left its mark on her panties, it now made dark spots on his desk blotter where it was visible between her legs. "What is this?" he asked his thrall, "Ruth, your cunt is contradicting your words...It looks like you like being spanked." He slipped his first and second fingers into her soaked twat and they disappeared with ease to the webbing of his hand. "Do you want me to do this more often? Did you deliberately disobey, hoping I would punish you like this? he asked, semi-facetiously.