My Training Begins

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Cheating wife is sent to training.
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I stood nervously at the door to her apartment wondering whether I should go through with it or not. In reality I had no choice. At least, not if I wanted to save my marriage! For the hundredth time I wondered why I had been so stupid as to have an affair. True, it had been very exciting and the sex had been out of this world, but my husband was bound to find out. There were only so many times that he would believe that I was working late. I was at the office every time, but I was never working! Finally, he got suspicious, turned up at the office and found me on the Board Room table, legs akimbo, being fucked senseless by my boss who received a bloody nose for his trouble.

As I stood outside her door I had very mixed feelings about my husband, Steve. I definitely didn't want to lose him, I loved him, but I was angry with him for making me do this. I had always been a strong minded woman, I had gone out of my way to ensure that my whole life was not wrapped up with Steve. I had always been career minded, maintained a separate set of friends and had days shopping and nights out with the girls whenever I wanted. When Steve found out about my affair he had immediately left and gone to live with a friend, leaving me an angry note in which he repeatedly referred to me as a slut. He didn't contact me for over a month and I really thought I'd lost him. And then finally he called.

Deep despair turned to hope, hope that he would be coming home. Hope turned to horror, horror at what he was proposing. Calmly and without any emotion Steve told me that he would be willing to come home on two conditions. First, I had to change jobs to get away from the man with whom I'd had the affair. Second, he had to be sure that I would not stray again. The first condition was no problem, the affair had ended and I was keen to move on.

As a vivacious, attractive female lawyer I had no problem in standing out in job interviews among the grey suited, boring male candidates. The second condition was a bit of a shocker. Steve told me that he had arranged for me to receive some training at the hands of a lady called Helen Carmichael. He told me having a slut for a wife was not entirely unattractive to him provided that he could be sure that I would be his slut, submissive and faithful. He had found Helen Carmichael on the internet, though I had no idea what search term he might have used. I had thought about his proposition for a sleepless week as his deadline for a decision raced up on me. In the end I decided to agree, after all, how bad could it possibly be?

So there I stood, hesitant about knocking on the door, delaying the moment when I was to be at the mercy of Helen Carmichael. I adjusted my tight pencil skirt, pulling it further down so that it finished just above the knee and then I buttoned up one more button, making sure my cleavage couldn't be seen. Of course, I knew that these were only temporary measures, that in all likelihood I would not be wearing my skirt or blouse within the hour. At my feet sat my red suitcase containing everything I would need for my stay with Helen, or so I thought. Steve had booked me in for two weeks, I would still go to work as normal but instead of going home each day I would be going back for my training with Helen.

Finally, I knocked timidly on the door. After what seemed like an age, the door opened and Helen Carmichael appeared. In my mind's eye I had built an image of a severe looking woman. I couldn't have been more wrong. Helen was tall, but slightly built, very elegant and extremely beautiful. Black hair, green eyes, long shapely legs and, as I now know, a 36D bra size. I was speechless, mainly because of my nerves, so it was Helen who broke the silence.

"Samantha I presume?"

That was the first surprise, no-one called me Samantha, I was just plain Sam. She gave me no time to answer.

"Come in and go through to my study at the end of the corridor," not so much a suggestion as a direct order. I picked up my bag and walked through to the study followed by Helen who went behind her desk and sat down. I began to pull up a chair when she barked, "you will not sit down and you will keep your mouth shut unless given permission to speak". "Do you understand?"

My head was in a spin as Helen looked me up and down with her piercing green eyes. I nodded yes.

Over the next half hour, whilst I stood in front of her desk, Helen subjected me to an inquisition about my affair, about my relationship with Steve and about my motives for agreeing to Steve's plan. She explained that she needed to become confident that I was motivated enough to stay the course before she committed to the assignment. But a lot of her questions seemed to have another purpose. Her eyes burned brightly and she crossed and un-crossed her legs as I answered detailed questions about the evenings spent in the office with my boss. She teased out every last detail from what I used to wear, what we did together and how accomplished he was at pleasuring me. She was definitely enjoying hearing my answers. Finally, she moved the conversation on and began to explain the rules of my stay.

Helen's task she bluntly explained was to prepare a new wife for Steve, to mould me into a compliant wife who would never stray again and who would do anything he demanded - Helen emphasised the word, "anything". She sought confirmation that I was willing to become that person but as I said yes I was really thinking the complete opposite. How naïve I was! Looking back now I realise that I knew so little about how conditioned a human being can become under the right circumstances. As of now I am a totally submissive slut, the very kind of person she had said I would become.

Helen made me agree to four rules and made me repeat them until I was fluent:

1.To dress as she required at all times;

2.To do everything she demanded without hesitation or complaint;

3.To address Helen as "mistress" every time I spoke;

4.Not to make any contact with Steve during my stay.

Helen made it clear that if I broke any of the rules that I would be harshly punished.

She picked up the phone and dialled a number. "I'm sending over a new assignment," she said into the telephone, "please sort out the usual wardrobe for her." Then Helen gave me an address and told me to go there immediately where I would be fitted for a new wardrobe. She added," you won't need any money."

I arrived by taxi at the small lingerie shop in the backstreets of Soho. It had no window display and blackened windows. I entered the shop to be greeting by a middle aged woman who announced herself to be Max. She was very smartly dressed and whilst a little over-weight she was very attractive for her age. After exchanging pleasantries, she put up the closed sign on the door and locked it. She then suggested (quite forcefully) that I undress so that she could, "assess my size and figure." Slowly I took off my jacket, skirt and blouse leaving me in tights, knickers and bra. Max sighed and said, "take those tights off, this will be the last time you ever wear tights if I know Helen." She also had me take off my remaining clothes until I was totally naked. Max looked me up and down and as she did so her tongue peeked from her mouth licking her lips from one side to the other. She approached me with a tape measure and measured by hips, waist and breasts. As she did so, she brushed my nipples with her hand without uttering an apology.

Max left the room for ten minutes whilst I stood nervously waiting her return. She finally came back laden with clothes, a big selection of lingerie, skirts, dresses and tops. She handed me the first set of lingerie, a lacy black basque with skimpy knickers and told me to try it on. That began an hour long session of trying on different sets, with Max having total say over which I would be taking home and which not. The outfits were characterised by being very revealing and very tight and I must admit that she chose the ones that showed off my figure for the best. We were approaching the bottom of the pile of clothes and there was just one last set of lingerie to try, a white suspender set with white seamed stockings and a cupless bra which pushed my breasts up and my exposed nipples outward. Max looked intently at me and commented on what a fine figure I had. She approached and her hand reached up to my right nipple, caressing it gently. My reaction was instinctive, I covered my breasts with my arm and protested verbally. A wave of anger came across Max's face and without a word left the room only to return a few minutes later phone in hand. She handed it to me, it was Helen.

"Max tells me that you've been impertinent. Before you get yourself into more hot water, you will remember what I told you, you will behave yourself and you will do whatever Max requires. Is that understood."

"Yes Mistress," I mumbled. Stunned, I dropped the phone. Max walked over again and once again raised her hand to my right nipple. This time, I did not protest or try to stop her. I had never been touched by another woman. At first she caressed my nipples gently and, to my horror, they began to respond, tingling and swelling to the touch of another woman. Then she moved her lips down to my nipples, gently licking, sucking and nibbling each one in turn. My nipples were rock hard by now and I began to feel a tingling excitement through my body, especially between my legs. Max moved her mouth up to mine and gently kissed me slowly pushing her tongue between my lips. To my amazement I was beginning to enjoy the experience. My mouth opened, our tongues tangled and I moaned slightly at the sensation of being kissed by a woman.

Then Max got serious. Turning her back on me, she ordered me to un-zip her dress which she then pulled down, letting it drop to the floor. For a middle aged woman she had a well-toned body, fuller curves than once they were no doubt, but curves nonetheless. Max was wearing a classic black suspender belt which help up tan stockings, she wore no bra or knickers. My eyes were drawn to the v between her legs which was completely shaven. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to touch her swollen pussy or even to taste it and I yearned for her to touch mine. I couldn't help myself, my body's feelings had taken over from my head, being so out of control merely heightened my desire. Max led me over to a leather sofa and we sat next to each other. Once again she kissed me whilst fondling my breasts. My own hands began to wonder to her own breasts and nipples which were as hard as bullets.

"It's time you paid for your clothes," she said with a smile on her face as she lay back on the couch, spreading her stocking clad legs wide apart. "Lick my pussy slut."

I never thought I would receive such an invitation from another woman, let alone carry out her wishes. I knelt on the floor and bent my head between her legs and for the first time the scent of her hot vagina hit my nose. I took one last look at her pussy lips before reaching out with my tongue and tasting her salty juices. I had never felt this horny ever. All I wanted to do was to get Max to orgasm as quickly as possible, then hopefully she would take care of me. I licked and licked her pussy lips pushing my tongue between them and then sought out her clit, it was swollen and hard. I flicked my tongue around it as Max's moans became more and more urgent and as she held my head in place determined that I should finish the job. Her legs were even wider apart as she approached orgasm.

"I'm so close, I'm going to cum, don't stop." Then she did, she went over the top, her legs shook, she screamed in ecstasy,

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh." Then, quite unexpectedly, she ejaculated, squirting her juices all over my face and mouth. Her orgasm seemed to last for a minute before she finally flopped down, totally spent.

I was covered in pussy juice and absolutely desperate to cum myself. What would Max do, would she lick me too?

"Get dressed," she barked at me, throwing one of my new mini-skirts at me. I couldn't have been more distressed, surely she would take care of me. "Make sure the seams on your stockings are straight, I want Helen to be impressed with your new wardrobe." I had no choice, I got dressed, my new skirt barely covering my stocking tops, my blouse revealing my deep cleavage.

"Now, go back to Helen, and by the way, you will not play with yourself on the way back, is that understood?" And that was it, my first experience as a compliant slut. It was fantastic and yet deeply frustrating. It made me anxious to get back to Helen to see if she would take care of my aching clitoris. And so I left. But that wasn't to be the last time that I saw Max!

  • COMMENTS
3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
If anyone knows about brain dead it's you dear annony. Your whole family

both the men are brain dead and there are no women , they all left. That includes your wife. I gave this story a 5

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
just bad worthless porn.

She is a worthless brain dead slut, who cares and story is stupid, not belivable.

betrayedbylovebetrayedbyloveover 8 years ago
?????

What's the matter. You didn't like chytown's comment? He calls it like he sees it. Don't continue this tale. It serves no purpose in life.

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