My Only Talent Ch. 15


"Learn what she wants, trainee, and do it without hesitation! We will continue to repeat this until you know and can anticipate her every preference."

Erminia still sent no sexual signals, but she was showing full attention and concentration. She began to alternate between humming, blowing and sucking on Millie's little snatch, and moving her head even more vigorously. Millie spread her legs even wider and pushed her pussy up towards Erminia's face. Both women were now breathing rapidly and deeply: Millie through her mouth and Erminia through her nose while her mouth was sealed to Millie. Millie put one hand behind Erminia's head and pulled her face into her even more strongly, so strongly that I could see the muscles in Millie's forearm working with the effort.

Millie pushed down with her legs and lifted her hips off of the red chaise lounge, still pushing herself into Erminia's face. Millie's cries expanded, sounding almost desperate. She now grabbed Erminia's hair strongly, and in an almost Suzanne like move, began to effectively fuck Erminia's face with her pussy. Erminia responded with even stronger suction and motion, and soon Millie was crying "Oh, oh, oh!" and then arched her back and threw her head back and screamed loudly, her hips shaking.

Erminia's motions were now so strong that she made loud, wet noises, like a junior high kid making simulated fart noises surreptitiously in the back of class. Millie's Suzie signal began beeping and her orgasm swept through her. Her nipples pulsed, and goose pumps propagated from her neck down to her arms and waist. She froze for just a moment, and then had another crushing climax, gasping for breath. Then she clamped Erminia's head in her hands and held it completely motionless for about ten seconds, then relaxed slightly and her pelvis rolled forward, then back. Erminia broke the seal between her mouth and Millie with a raspy popping noise, and looked almost smug with her success.

"Do it again, trainee, and with more feeling!" I said.

Erminia stuck her tongue out again and used her legs to push her shoulders closer to Millie's snatch, keeping her tongue extended and sliding it in and out of her vagina. I could see the muscles in Erminia's back working to shift her around, and Millie's nipples got even harder and redder. She began to use her thigh muscles to match Erminia's to and fro motions. Millie returned her hands to her nipples and twisted them savagely. Erminia then seemed determined to thrust her tongue deep inside of Millie and roll it around in every direction. After a few moments, she drew her face back and began to lick Millie with little individual tongue motions, then plunged back in again. Erminia's Suzie signaled not arousal but comfort, as if she was beginning to like making Millie feel good.

Millie pushed up again almost to full seated position and began to verbally direct Erminia's actions. "Harder, make me come. Deeper, make me come!" All of her muscles tensed again and she shook in an almost seizure like dance, grabbing the back of Erminia's neck again and pulling it into her. "I'm coming!" She lifted her hips up again and Erminia pushed them up with her hands thrusting them up off the couch, and Millie grabbed Erminia's wrists and locked that position in. Her face froze in a grimace, her eyes closed, her breathing frantic. The she grunted and then relaxed her legs, her butt hitting the couch with a 'woofing' sound as the air escaped her lungs.

I was now connected to both of him with complete signal clarity. Erminia was still not sexually excited. She was alternately either frustrated that she was not doing a task well, or happy that she was succeeding, yet always afraid that she was about to be scolded. I realized it was connected to her guilt, and I used that. "Make her come again, and quickly. If you can't bring her off twice in the next few minutes, I will write you off as hopeless and terminate your training immediately!" Erminia drew a deep breath and concentrated on Millie. I tuned in to her too, and offered Erminia some advice. When Millie's Suzie began to wax, I murmured encouragement to Erminia, and when it waned, I scolded her. I was so connected to Millie now, I could almost say "right there" for her. I was amazed at how subtle their signals were and how well I could read them: I felt truly part of their little tableau. I still sensed Ermie concentrating hard on Millie, and silently hoping to make her come, but still with no real sexual excitement of her own. Millie was relaxing and getting into the rhythm, forgetting about the strange surroundings and unfamiliar situation, and beginning to trust Erminia.

Soon Millie grabbed Ermie's head and shook like she was standing up in the stirrups of a horse, and her Suzie blossomed to signal the best orgasm of the session, accompanied by a wafting burst of aroma from her beautiful and furry little air freshener. Millie had a funky, expanding overtone to her Suzie when an orgasm was especially strong. It was not as unique as Suzanne's quirky sneeze when she really came hard, but it was a signature for her pleasure. Erminia must have memorized the correct sequence, because she did it again and Millie came quickly again, reaching up not to grab Ermie's head, but to gently caress it and smile. Erminia smiled back up at her, like I used to smile up from between Mrs. Douglass's legs, and kissed the inside of Millie's things softly, all the while licking up Millie's juices.

I smiled very briefly at Erminia, careful to wipe it off my face as soon as she saw it. "You may be trainable. You may not be. We shall see. Before next week's session, I expect you to spend at least two hours each day researching more and better techniques for cunnilingus, studying female anatomy and response, and visualizing how you could better please Millie. Next week, if you cannot achieve at least twice as many orgasms in the same amount of time, I will be forced to suspend your training! Now lean over on the couch and present yourself for a spanking!"

Erminia's face betrayed her surprise and confusion, but she turned and dropped her waist on the red chaise lounge, reaching up to grab the opposite side of it with her arms and tensing her legs against the floor, raising her lovely buttocks to the most vulnerable possible position. Suddenly there was a hint of sexual tension in her Suzie signal, then a wave of guilt. I realized that they had been somehow pathologically tied together, and that each time she felt excitement, her guilt welled up to suppress it. Asa Weltschmerz told me she would never feel she had punished herself enough. Someone else would have to punish her until she felt it was enough, but the trouble was figuring out how much was really enough. He said that was always the problem. But I had my Suzie receiver, a big advantage that he did not know about. I figured that somehow her Suzie would tell me when she had really been punished enough, and I was determined to take her to that point. Beyond that point, perhaps she could begin to enjoy herself a little bit, and then Sapiento could to.

I took a position behind Ermie, where she could not see me, and paused to let her anticipate what would happen next. Millie was getting into it now, and she took Ermie's head in her hands and made eye contact with her. This kind of spanking would likely make Millie come, but I hoped she realized that Erminia would not react that way. Millie said "Keep your eyes on mine, trainee! Do not close them."

Sometimes improvisation is just the right thing. Erminia shivered, and I delivered a rousing blow to her left buttock. She made a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a cough, then emitted a low moan. I counted to three between smacks, and gave her five on each buttock, then listened carefully to her Suzie signal. No excitement, no anger, just resignation. Her punishment phase may take a while, but I didn't see any alternative but to go through with it, all the way to the end. I narrated my strokes, popping her even harder: "You must be punished severely, you selfish, unthinking worm!"

She sobbed, but her Suzie said she agreed with my evaluation. I would have to punish her until she felt it was enough. I was risking everything on being able to tell when that point had been reached. Millie watched me warily as I continued to spank Erminia. For the first few strokes, it excited her, and she wanted those strokes herself. But after the first dozen or so, she seemed to realize the depth of the sorrow that had been visited upon Erminia, and she watched frozen, cushioning her head as if trying to help absorb the aftershock of each of my strokes. For the next dozen, she looked askance at me, wondering if I had lost control. When I finally stopped, she gasped when she stopped holding her breath, and Erminia for her part sobbed loudly.

"I will need to bring some instruments of discipline for your next session, trainee! You have not yet been properly punished, but I promise that you will be!" Erminia curled into the fetal position, and Millie looked daggers at me as she slipped her dress back on. "Remember to complete your assignments for next week!" With that, I took Millie by the arm and we went into the hallway. I used the card reader to call the elevator, and the door opened and took us back into the parking garage. The driver opened the limo doors for use and we got in, without a word passing between us.

As Millie and I rode back toward the Phi Phi house, I realized how much the training session had affected me. I was only now realizing how horny I was, as I had been ignoring myself while concentrating fully on doing the right thing for Erminia. I was just about to drop off the only possible outlet for my lust, and I had hours of schoolwork to do before I could sleep. Just as we pulled up at the Phi Phi porch, Millie grabbed my shoulder and whispered wetly in my ear, "Saturday night! Anything you want! Anything at all!" Apparently she had regained her erotic equilibrium. I suppose there might be some virtue in waiting and anticipating the weekend.

When I returned to the dorm around 10 PM, Kevin was nowhere to be found. As I sat down at my little study desk, I heard an alarming noise. It was my stomach growling, as I had eaten nothing at all since lunch. Even though most of my exertion during the training session was mental, save for a little vigorous spanking, I was still famished. I grabbed some change from my backpack, and headed for the vending machines in the basement.

A huge college dorm complex filled with roughly ten thousand 'fresh persons' can sometimes be a living and breathing theatre of the absurd. Evenings and late nights seem to be the most poignant, as people return from a variety of good or bad experiences and are often confronted with what they should have done, but have not. Or what they did, and should not have. These feelings are often acted out accompanied by booze, drugs, screaming histrionics, self flagellation, cutting and other even more creative forms of self abuse. Every semester there were several suicide attempts, and the occasional success. Almost every time I did my laundry or ventured down to the vending machine area, I witnessed some of these scenes. Tonight was no exception.

The football team had its own dining hall nearby, and a separate residence floor in the complex, and especially first year players were under a lot of stress. Pressure to keep their grades up was very real, and so were the opportunities to spend time doing everything but academics. There was good natured hazing by some of the upperclassmen athletes, plus some frankly psychotic abuse masquerading as hazing. As soon as they were allowed to, those athletes that survived their freshman year and could afford it fled the dorms for apartments or rental houses wherever they could find them. Dana Duke had told me a few stories about her relatively mild adventures as a freshman female golfer on scholarship, but also some very dark tales of those most worshipped and also most abused athletes on the ESU campus, the newly recruited football players.

One of my high school buddies was a walk on player working on the practice squad, simulating the opposing team's offense in weekly practices. He and most of his family were long term multi-generational alums and fans, but he couldn't get a whiff of a scholarship offer to play football at ESU. He was by far the most talented player on our high school football team, and he did have scholarship offers from some of the 'directional schools' in neighboring states, but nothing from any of the other major conference schools in Texas, either. He actually consulted my Mom about his choice of schools, not because she knew anything about football, but because his long term goal was to be an accountant. They concluded that since his long term plan was to live in Texas, an ESU accounting degree and networking opportunities would be far superior, from a 'client development' perspective (which was apparently what accountants called marketing) to any of the out of state schools. Even if he just ended up in an ESU team picture with 150 other walk-ons to put on his office wall, it would serve him much better than being a starter anywhere else. As a result of staying in touch with him, I had some insight into the inner workings of the ESU football program, and some of the characters involved.

That was why I recognized the guy standing in front of the drink vending machine at the other end of the row from where I was. He was a highly touted freshman offensive lineman from a small town less than a hundred miles from campus, and considered a real prospect for the NFL a few years hence. He was six foot six inches, 295 pounds, and still a growing just turned 18 year old, yet to fill out his dainty frame with muscle. After a few years with the ESU nutritionist and the strength and conditioning staff, he was expected to show up at the scouting combine at 6' 7" and 325 lbs, with the same very low body fat he had now.

I had been victimized by the same vending machine he now stood in front of before, and always avoided it. Although the light brown colored metal refrigerator substitute was Bluetooth equipped and supposedly offered multiple payment options, including bills, coins, credit cards, Paypal, NetSpend, and even BevoBucks, the only thing that seemed to offer any hope of actually getting a drink was dollar bills, and after you deposited two of them and the little roller sucked them up, nothing happened. No drink, no change, not even any blinking lights. When it happened to me, I simply concluded that I should avoid that machine in the future. Oh, there was a sign detailing a web page you could log into and submit a claim for a refund, but I had heard that all you got was an email saying your claim was being investigated, with no further action.

Freddie the Freshman Footballer chose a different course of action. He laughed and bitch slapped the machine dramatically about where its face would have been, if it had one, and said "How much do you squat, man?" and bent down and grabbed the machine down low and grunted. The thing had to weigh at least 350 pounds. He slowly lifted it up until it was about three feet off the ground. Then he tilted the machine about thirty degrees, and dropped it, so that it landed right on the front left corner. I got the feeling he had done this before, and it was a well developed technique. There was a keening noise and the sheet metal skin split up that corner, opening a gash about two feet long. He grabbed one side, and opened the split further like peeling a banana skin. He then reached in, got his Dr. Pepper, and then spun and delivered a thundering karate kick right into the front of the machine, smashing the bill roller, keypad, and LCD screen. He noticed me and smiled, flashed me a Hook 'em sign, and headed for the stairs with his prize. I got two packages of cheese crackers and a Coke from other machines, and headed up stairs for several hours of devotion to school.

Friday morning I awoke with a pounding erection, I guess from all the Thursday night stimulation without any action or release. I was, of course, ravenously hungry, too, the cheese crackers having not truly been sufficient to tide me over last night. I tanked up even more thoroughly than Wednesday morning, in anticipation of starting another noon run with Suzanne. I looked around for Nora, but did not see her, but spotted Ralph as he sat down with me at the table, his plate just as loaded as mine was.

"Hey, Robbie! Guess who just got moved into this dorm." He laughed. "The food seems better here, so far, and so many people flunked out that I actually have a room all to myself! Both of the former occupants are heading home for a local yokel future, I guess. It's a much better place for me than a bunk bed in the lounge of the old dorm. Actually, it hasn't been that bad, since I almost never sleep there. It's usually at Liz's or Marilyn's place. I have to eat a lot more calories to keep up with those two. But I'm not complaining! In fact, I should thank you more often for recognizing the opportunity and pointing it out to me."

I laughed with him. "From what I hear, the girls aren't complaining either! Sounds like a good deal to me."

He looked funny. "I don't see how you keep up with three of them. I can barely handle two, and if they couldn't get each other off, I would have big trouble. I guess it sort of balances out."

Now I was puzzled. "What to you mean by balances out?"

"Well, having the two girls there at once gets me more excited, but the fact that there are two of them also means I have to get excited more often!"

Now I understood. "That's what they call a very high quality problem, Ralphie boy." He guffawed, wearing his version of my shit eating grin. We walked out together toward the South Mall.

Rhetoric and Composition served up the first exam of the pre-Thanksgiving gauntlet, a combination of multiple choice questions that proved you at least knew the titles and characters of the books on the reading list, and a few essay questions to find out whether or not you had actually read any of them and formed any opinions. I had read them all, and I was pretty sure Ms. Wyrickie would give me break even if she disagreed with my opinions. Engineering 101 was a pre-test review, and I had learned Lillehammer's pattern, thanks to having access to the UDP test files for the last several years. The practice test was twice as long as the real exam would be, and the questions on the even pages were very similar to what would end up on the exam, so I had a good study plan for the test next Monday.

I began my run at the now comfortable faster pace, and Suzanne soon joined in right on time, one minute before noon. "Mornin', Animal!" she exclaimed, always precise. "Let's talk about the Formula One after Race Party at Spear's place!" Actually, she talked, and I listened. She and Millie and Lara had taken to the task enthusiastically, having set up elaborate shared planning documents on Google Drive and brainstorming all the options. Their goal was to make sure the invitees never forgot the last party of their first trip to Austin, and to instill in them a burning desire to get invited back for next year's bash. Lara said her dad insisted on contributing to the budget, as long as he could submit some of his younger networking targets for attendance, and they had agreed. Lara had been consulting with the event planner I met at the UDP port with Cisco, and she was promising a bang up job at minimum price, since it could be her entre' to doing much more business with the Gran Prix crowd next year. Suzanne had a few ideas for how to spice things up considerably, and she was working on her soccer girls and the Phi Phi pledges to develop some very special entertainment for the party. I could even detect her Suzie signal sparking about as the anticipated it. What did she have in mind?

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