Training Ch. 04

"No! No, you're making a mistake!" she said. The men dragged her onto the stage, their grips like iron. Somewhere far overhead, a spotlight came to life and shined down brightly on her. A sea of faces looked up at her, expectant.

"Gentlemen, the next lot in our sale is a very beautiful item indeed. This is a filthy whore who loves to be fucked. There is nothing she won't do! Take a look at this dirty tramp who wants to perform vile and unspeakable acts for you."

The two men grabbed her dress on either side and yanked. The dress tore away, leaving Eileen naked under the spotlight. Hundreds of eyes looked at her.

"Yes, this little whore is so dirty, there is no depraved delight she will not provide for you. Come on up and take a look! Inspect the merchandise."

Someone Eileen couldn't see brought a chair from behind her. The men pushed her down onto it. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but one of the men took her by the wrists and pulled her arms up over her head.

The men in the audience started pouring onto the stage. They crowded all around her, jostling at each other. Eyes glittering with avarice looked down at her. Rough, indifferent hands squeezed her breasts.

"That's right, step right up. Check out this fine whore." Someone grabbed her ankles and lifted them up to the chair. More hands pulled her knees apart, spreading her wide. Men in expensive suits groped and fondled her, shoved questing fingers inside her. More fingers tickled her clit. She moaned.

"See how this whore accepts whatever you do to her. Watch her get off from any violation. What am I bid for this fine sex slave?"

Fingers prodded and stroked. Something pressed into her breast, and she felt her nipple harden. Her breath came in short gasps. She struggled to move, but invisible bonds held her still, helpless.

"See how hard she comes!" the auctioneer crowed. His voice was Anthony's. "Come for me, little whore! Come for me!"

She woke in the throes of a hard, long orgasm. Anthony was somewhere below her, encouraging her; "That's right, little whore, come for me!" Something moved around her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. She gasped and screamed in ecstasy.

"Good. That's lovely. I like seeing you come," he said.

The feelings subsided slowly. Eileen tried to move, but something stopped her. She was lying on her back in a strange, awkward position; one leg was straight, the other bent, with her knee pulled up almost to her breast Both her wrists were together, resting on one of her shoulders, her arms pressed tight against her body.

She opened her eyes and saw Anthony leaning over her smiling. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, little whore! It's time to wake up!"

"What--why can't I--?"

Wakefulness seeped in to her body, and Eileen gradually became aware that she was bound in place. One ankle was tied with a length of rope that snaked tautly under the corner of the bed. Another rope bound her other leg in a bent position, heel touching her ass. Her wrists were tied together, and a long piece of rope, slightly rough on her smooth skin, wrapped around her body and between her breasts, pinning her wrists to her shoulder. Yet more rope bound her bent knee to the side of the bed, preventing her from turning.

"What did you do to me?"

"I tied you up while you were sleeping!" Anthony said brightly, with the pleased tone of a boy who had just won first prize at the fair. "It took about forty-five minutes. I had to be careful not to wake you up. Had to tie you in the position you were already in, because I was afraid that moving you around too much might wake you. Then I ran my finger over your clit until you came."

Eileen tried to turn over, but the ropes held her in place. "Anthony, can—"

"Hold that thought." He disappeared from her view. A second later, she felt something wet touch her clit.

"Anthony!"

He pressed his face further between her legs. His tongue danced lightly over her most sensitive spot; the feeling made her gasp. Butterflies danced in her stomach. "Anthony! Stop!"

His tongue—that magnificent, skilled tongue—moved faster. Heat and tension grew in her belly. "Anthony!" she cried desperately. "Anthony, no! Stop! Please stop! ANTHONY!!"

The second orgasm hit her with the force of a tornado. She screamed and shook while uncontrollable pleasure tore through her. "ANTHONY!" she shrieked. "ANTHONY!!!" Her body spasmed and her back arched. "Oh, God, ANTHONY!!!"

And then, as fast as it had hit, it was gone. She lay panting, drenched in sweat.

He crawled up on the bed to kneel beside her. Softly, sweetly, he stroked her hair. "I love seeing you like that. Watching you when you're in ecstasy excites me." He drew closer, kneeling beside her head. "Can you feel how much I like it?" He closed her bound hands around his cock, throbbing and hard.

She made a soft whimper but said nothing. Her hands squeezed, drawing a quiver from Anthony's body.

"Wait." He reached over to the nightstand and picked up a tube of lubricant. "Here." He uncapped it and squeezed it over her hands, sending a generous quantity of thick slippery jelly over her fingers and down across her palms. She made a noise of distaste, but the ropes prevented her from moving her hands away.

Anthony slid his erection back between her hands. "Squeeze," he said. "The head and underside are most sensitive. Close your fingers more tightly."

His hips began thrusting. Eileen felt his slippery shaft moving through her hands. Her heart beat faster. "Anthony, please!"

"Giving a good handjob is part of a sex slave's skill," he said. "Don't be afraid to squeeze; you're not going to break it." His fingers closed over hers. "There. Like that. Good!" He moved faster. "Hold it just like that. Move your fingers over the head." He breathed faster, and his cock seemed to swell in her hand. "Oh! Just like that...oh!"

She turned her face away just as he came. A thick stream of come jetted across her cheek and splattered on her neck. She closed her eyes and recoiled in disgust. He kept thrusting. More come gushed across her cheek, splashed the side of her neck, and ran down into her hair. Another thrust, and come spurted across her chin and her face. "Anthony, no!" Lube and come dripped from her fingers.

When he was finished, he straightened up with a pleased expression. Eileen felt wetness dripping down her cheek and squirmed in distaste. "Anthony, that's disgusting! Untie me!"

He kissed her forehead again. "A sex slave can't be squeamish about having come all over her. Stay here, little whore. You need to get used to it." He left her there, bound to the bed, and ran the shower in the bathroom.

She heard him whistling to himself while the wetness dripped down her cheek and leaked into her hair. The come on her chin itched as it dried, but she couldn't quite reach to scratch it. Sticky slime dripped from her fingertips onto her shoulder. A large drop of the gooey liquid rolled down her wrist. Her entire body shuddered in repugnance.

Long minutes went by. When he was finished with his shower, he came out toweling his hair. She struggled against the ropes. "Anthony, that's enough. Let me go!"

He leaned over the bed with a grin. "This really grosses you out, doesn't it? We have to work on that." He scooped up some of the come from her cheek and ran his fingertips over her lips, leaving a wet trail smeared across them. Her face twisted in revulsion. "You can't be a good sex slave if you don't love come!" he said.

Straightening, still whistling to himself, he pulled on his bathrobe left the bedroom. The come cooled and dried on her skin. From far away, she heard the front door open, then close. A new kind of fear trilled through her. Where was he going? Why had he abandoned her like this, tied to the bed? Was he leaving on some errand, dressed only in a robe? That made no sense to her. How long would he be gone?

The minutes stretched out. The wet goo on her face and hands started to dry, and itch, and she couldn't move to wipe it away. She opened her mouth to call for him, and tasted semen. Her body shuddered. She struggled hard against the cords binding her, but succeeded only in splattering little flecks of slippery goo from her hands across her neck and shoulder. Come dripped down and spread through her hair.

Used and defiled, Eileen sobbed softly. Her tears made salty tracks through the stuff dried on her face. More minutes ticked by. She could not understand why Anthony was doing these things to her, and understood even less why her body responded the way it did. How could it be possible that these things that so sickened her also made her come?

She thought about the things he had done to her in London. Her mind wandered to the way he had raped her in that alley; she thought of damp brick at her back, the cold bright hardness of the knife on her breast. More tears rolled down her cheek. A familiar tightness curled up inside her. Her nipples hardened against her arm.

A sudden loud hammering sound from somewhere near the front door jolted her out of the thoughts. Was someone knocking? Where was Anthony? Her mind raced. What if someone came in and saw her here like this?

Panic seized hold. What if it was someone she knew? Could people be showing up for the party he had talked about? Had he invited her friends? What if they tried the door when nobody answered? What if they walked in on her this way, bound naked and splattered with semen? She fought against the rope and called out for Anthony.

The rapping came again, longer, more insistent. She held her breath, heart hammering.

There was a long pause, then more hammering. The tension uncoiled fractionally inside her. It didn't sound like someone knocking on the door, and nobody seemed to be coming into the house. From the bedroom she still couldn't tell what was happening, but for the moment, at least, she didn't seem to be in any danger of being discovered.

A minute of silence went by before the hammering resumed. She shifted uncomfortably and tested the ropes, which still held her fast. They felt tight and slightly coarse on her skin, and they had been tied with a cleverness that confounded her attempts to escape.

She heard the front door open. Her heartbeat picked up. Footsteps sounded in the living room, coming closer. Her breath caught, and she squirmed, desperately wishing she could pull the sheets up to cover herself.

The bedroom door opened, and Anthony's head appeared. "Hello, little whore! Would you like me to unite you now?"

Eileen jumped, startled. "Anthony! Where were you? Was that you making all that noise? What were you doing?"

"Oh, you'll see." He grinned conspiratorially. "But first, let's get you untied, shall we?"

Eileen glowered resentfully at him while he worked on the knots. So complicated were the bindings that it took him several minutes to unfasten them. The ropes around her body left deep marks in her sides. He moved down to free her legs, then finally turned his attention to the ones binding her arms. Finally, after several minutes, she was free of all save a single long rope binding her wrists together at one end. She moved to stand. Anthony placed a hand on her arm. "Oh, no you don't. Where do you think you're going?"

"Anthony, finish untying me! I have to clean up!"

"Not just yet, little whore. I'm not done with you. You still don't quite seem to understand your place."

She pulled away and tugged at the rope with her teeth. "Let me go this minute!"

"No. Besides, I want to show you what a beautiful day it is outside. And you asked what I was doing." His voice was calm but carried a hint of sharpness. With one quick move, he scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She felt the muscles ripple in his back as he carried her naked through the living room.

Anthony brought her to the front door and opened it wide. She gasped in shock, then began struggling with all of her strength as he carried her out onto the porch. Her hands beat ineffectively at his back. "Anthony! What are you doing? Bring me inside!"

"No." He set her down near one of the massive white columns that lined the front porch. She felt warm concrete under her bare feet. Eileen shrunk away from him and moved toward the door, but Anthony held tightly to the length of rope that bound her wrists. "Stay here."

"But I'm naked! People will see me!"

"They might, unless you behave and stay behind this column." He half-led, half dragged her over to it. "Right here."

Anthony pushed her forward against the column. With one hand, he lifted her wrists over her head. Eileen looked up, and saw that he had nailed a bright metal ring to the column, just above her reach. He stood on his tiptoes to loop the rope through it and tied it off, binding her against the pillar with her arms stretched above her. The morning sun shone warmly on her bare skin.

"Anthony!" she screamed. "What are you doing?"

"Hush. You might want to keep your voice down a bit. You're out of view of the road, mostly, but if you make too much ruckus our neighbors might wonder what all the fuss is about. Now, the Faulkner family over that way"—he waved to his left—"usually keep to themselves and probably won't care if you fuss. And Mr. Thompsons over that way"—his chin jutted to the right—"is a bit hard of hearing. But he has a son who's in his thirties or so, who might want to come over and see what the noise is all about. Who knows what he might do if he finds you all tied up and naked! So you probably want to keep quiet."

"Anthony—"

"Hush." He knelt in his bathrobe next to the column. Eileen cried out in surprise when he grabbed her ankle and lashed it to another ring he had nailed to the base of the column. He repeated the same procedure on the other side, and when he was finished, she was securely bound with her legs spread. The warm, roughly textured stucco surface pressed against her breasts.

"Anthony! What do you think you're doing?"

His hands caressed her sides, followed the curve of her body. "Enjoying the beautiful morning. Getting some fresh air." He reached into the pocket of his bathrobe and took out a tube of lubricating jelly. She felt something cool and wet roll down the cleft of her ass. His fingers worked the slippery stuff into her. "And raping you anally, of course," he said. "Just because we're home doesn't mean your training program is over!"

He parted his robe. His hands gripped her hips firmly. With a hard, slow thrust, he buried his erect shaft deep in her ass. She let out a long wail of helplessness as he started to thrust. She felt her ass stretch to accommodate him, and with each push, he pressed her body hard against the column. She struggled to move, but the ropes held her tightly in place.

He raped her slowly and methodically, without hurrying. Eileen screamed helplessly. He took his time, thrusting slowly but deeply, impaling her on his erection. His hands were tight on her hips, pressing her against the pillar. Her screams slowly subsided, and gradually became moans.

Finally, his cock thickened. Eileen shuddered, knowing what was about to happen. One more thrust, and with a groan he unloaded a torrent of hot wet come into her. She shuddered in distaste. He continued to thrust, spurting hot wetness deep inside her, for what seemed like a very long time. She cried out, repulsed by the feel of the gooey slickness being forced into her.

When he was finally done, Anthony withdrew from her and closed his robe. "Mmm, that felt nice.," he said. "I think I really like that ass of yours." With that, he turned and walked back into the house.

"Anthony!" she called. "Anthony, don't leave me here like this!"

The front door closed behind him.

"Anthony!" She tugged at the rope binding her arms until her wrists were sore. "Anthony!" Something wet dripped down from between her widely spread legs and splattered on the concrete. She squirmed, not wanting to think about what it was.

The midmorning breeze played over her skin. Her hair felt stiff and crusty. Each car that drove past on the street caused her to shrink against the post and wish that it were wider. The warm sun and gentle breeze might have felt pleasant on her skin, in any other circumstance, but stripped and bound like this, she scarcely noticed.

The breeze picked up, stirring eddies in the yard and blowing through Eileen's hair. She trembled, and tightness curled through her body. She felt vulnerable, exposed; with every sound, she was desperately afraid someone would walk up the driveway and see her there. She closed her eyes and remembered the people watching from the street while she was tied up in the window in London. The tension curled tighter. More wetness dripped from between her legs, but this time, it was not just from Anthony's come in her ass. Slowly, gradually, her struggles changed, became long undulations of her hips. Need and tension rose. In her mind, she could imagine those men seeing her here naked in front of the house, could picture them discreetly reaching down to touch themselves while they watched her...

"Now there's a lovely sight!" Anthony's voice came from behind her. "A tied-up sex slave humping a pillar."

Eileen realized she'd been so lost in the fantasy that she hadn't even heard the door open; the knowledge made her turn bright red in embarrassment. "I—I don't...I didn't..."

"Of course you did." He walked up behind her and cupped her ass with one hand. "Slut." His fingers probed her pussy, and the sensation took her breath away. She moaned, pressing back against his hand.

His fingers probed deeper, found wetness. She moaned again as they slid between her folds and stroked her clit. Her eyes closed, visions of strangers watching her growing more vivid behind her lids. The breeze caressed her bare skin and raising goose bumps. Her moans grew louder, more urgent; then, all at once, the tension released and she came hard against his fingers.

He took his hand away; her hips moved backward, following it. He laughed. "Later! I've made breakfast, and I don't want it to get cold." Nimble fingers untied her bonds. "Besides, tomorrow starts an important new phase in your training, and I won't be able to feed you breakfast the way I did on our honeymoon any more. So I wanted to be able to have one last time lingering over breakfast with you, you know? For old time's sake." He chuckled. "If 'old time' can mean a few days ago."

"What are you talking about? Anthony! Let me go!"

He bent to untie her ankles. She stepped away from the pillar, trailing rope, and felt suddenly, acutely self-conscious. The low rumble of a passing truck on the road startled her, making her hide behind the pillar again. Anthony laughed. "In the house, little whore!"

He took the rope still bound to her wrists and led her through the door. She followed sheepishly, feeling like a pet on a leash.

Like a pet on a leash... The thought echoed in her head. Her heart thudded. He's leading me around like I'm his pet! Her body quivered in sudden excitement. She felt her nipples harden. Between her legs, she twitched and grew wet. Something stirred inside her, some deep inner part of her that seemed fascinated by the notion.

He led her through the living room and into the kitchen. Coppery light from the high windows reflected from the row of pots and pans that hung over the stove and flooded the space. Sunbeams fell on the small wood table where he had laid out breakfast. He'd placed two chairs at the table, low-backed wood without arms, and one of them had a familiar dildo jutting upward from the seat.

She shrank back away from him as far as the rope would let her. "Anthony, no!"

"Yes. After today, things will change, and I won't have the opportunity to do this to you any more. A different part of your training will take precedence. I enjoy feeding you breakfast, though. Besides, it will be a nice way to bridge your honeymoon training with your at-home training, don't you think?"