Training Rebecca Ch. 10

"Do you want me to undress?"

"It is much more sensual with you partially clothed. Just your coat and blouse off for now."

He had her pose sitting on the arm of the leather couch with skirt pulled all the way up, bent over with her skirt around her waist showing her butt plug, and with her foot up on the coffee table. He appreciated the way her breasts swayed as he posed her. "Now put your blouse back on and sit on the couch. There in the right corner." She sat, pulling up her skirt and he adjusted her blouse to the sides of her breasts framing their perfection. "Mess up your hair a little and raise your right knee." Ah, that opened her up nicely, he thought. Then as he looked at the padlocks, he suddenly remembered the envelope. Retrieving it from his gear, he tore it open. There was a miniature key and a note.

"I appreciate you helping with Rebecca's training. Only you may take out the padlocks for her pictures. Make sure you take some in the outer office. When you finish the shoot, put the locks back in and bring the key to 329 Elmwood Place and I will give you $500 extra for your inconvenience."

The outer office, "Come with me," he said moving to the door.

"No, I can't," her voice went up an octave, panic setting in.

"It's in the note."

"Oh my God," terror masking her usual beauty.

"Maybe we don't have to," concern in his voice.

She hesitated, that thought appealing. "No we have to, but let's shoot fast." She pulled the door open a crack and was relieved to find Mrs. Davis had gone for the day. "Where do you want me?"

"Start in your secretary's chair." Rebecca pulled up her skirt and sat down, thankful she at least had her skirt and blouse on. "Nice. Stand with your fit on the chair." She had to pull her skirt up to comply. "Push the chair a little away from you and pull your skirt up to your waist to show your locks and, and the other. Good, now to the front of the desk." She glanced furtively at the windows either side of the door as she moved. "Sit on the corner with your legs open. Grab your blouse and hold it wide open. Good. Turn and pull up your skirt to the waist. Legs apart. Lean on the desk. Now look back at me and smile. Great. Blouse off."

"Is that really necessary?"

But he continued as though she hadn't interrupted him, "Lean over the desk so your diddys are hanging down."

We need to be finished and out of here, her mind shouted as she did as directed.

"Now to the file cabinet. Open the top drawer and rest your hand on it." Rebecca moved quickly, still nude from the waist up, wanting to be out of the office. She kept looking at the windows. "Smile. Almost done. Put your blouse back on and sit in the guest chair there," he pointed. "Left leg on the arm." Yes, that opened her up nicely to reveal the locks and the plug. "That's enough here." Rebecca almost fell as she launched herself out of the chair, heading for the security of her office.

"Sit back down as before, Lass, and I'll remove the locks." He knelt, took the tiny key and removed one after the other, needing to pinch her outer lips so he could slide each through the fettered flesh. He had detected her female odor before, but now it filled his nostrils. Here was one HOT woman. He marveled at the smoothness of her flesh, the sticky moisture covering the locks, her lips, and even the tops of her thighs. Feeling the heat rising from her he didn't ever want this moment to end. He set the locks on the coffee table and moved it out of the way. She could feel her lips slick apart, her wetness glistening in the light. A shiver ran down her body, knowing that HE would soon see these pictures of her.

"Now about the plug..."

"That stays in." He nodded.

Ian MacGregor, of MacGregor Studios, moved the tripods again and then took pictures from every angle. "That about wraps it up, I think," he said hoping there would be more. "I'll put the locks back in."

"No. There are a few other shots my friend would like, "she said reaching down and pulling her cunt lips farther apart. FLASH. FLASH.

"Very lovely," he was in awe. FLASH.

She took a deep breath and extended her right middle finger and touched her clit. It sent a shockwave through her. She hadn't realized how close to orgasm she had been. He adjusted one video camera and took another off its tripod. This action was too good to miss.

Rebecca began to stroke herself slowly, gritting her teeth to keep from cumming. So close. So close. "Are you ready for me to cum now?" she blushed at having to ask the question.

"Not yet, Lass." He wanted to make the most erotic moment of his life last. She was right on the edge and stopped rubbing to keep from cumming "No, don't stop," he told her.

She moaned as she again began to rub circles around her engorged clit, although a little slower. She reached with her left hand for the closest nipple and squeezed it as hard as she could. The pain both raised her level of excitement and kept her from cumming for the time being. The leg on the floor moved farther apart of its own accord and her knee pushed into the back of the couch. He could see the muscles of her thighs, framed by the garter and stocking tops, contract as she rubbed. The entire bottom of her butt plug was in full view.

"Keep your hand over to the side so I have a nice, clear view."

"Please," Rebecca moaned, no longer caring about her dignity.

"Huh?"

"Please, May I cum?"

"In a minute," he said, suddenly enjoying her agony and his control. "Rise up off the couch with your arse and stroke faster."

She did as he commanded, gasping for air. She grabbed her sore breast and squeezed hard, counting on the pain to help her hold back. The camera looked right into her.

"Please, Sir," she gasped. "Pleeease."

"Faster."

A growl came from her lips, her face distorted, trying to hold back until given permission. "Please, please, please, I'm begging you."

"Aye," was all he said.

"I can cum?" she gasped.

"Aye, Lass. Do the deed."

She muffled a cry and came against her finger, the other hand clawing at her nipples, one, then the other. Her cunt already raised off the couch, shuddered again and again with the force of the orgasm and jumped at the camera as though to impale itself on an imaginary cock. A bright blush ran down her body. Second after second went by as Ian watched the spectacle in his viewfinder. Sweat gathered about his temples and a rivulet ran down his sideburns. Rebecca felt her head swim and let go of the breath she was holding with a gasp. Her finger had finally slowed down and her legs were shaking when she felt a second one coming on. Her clit had gone hypersensitive from the first orgasm, but she knew she had to cum again for her Master. She pulled her finger off and cried in desperation, "Please, Sir, may I cum again."

"Aye, coom, Lass," she rubbed furiously with three fingers. "Raise yerself up high and coom for Ian."

She shook her head from side to side. "Noooooo," she lifted her pelvis even higher than before off the couch, stretching her taut legs to the max and holding herself there as her contractions shook her cunt. The camera caught the flutters of a vagina trying to milk a nonexistent cock. Her fingers were a blur on her clit. She couldn't hold back the shrieks that came from deep in her throat. He moved the camera up to catch the fingers trying to pull the nipples off from her mottled breasts. Then to her face, contorted in the throes of her much needed orgasms.

Finally, when she thought she was going to die from the sensation, she collapsed on the couch, eyes squeezed closed, gasping, "thank you, thank you, thank you," over and over. Her whole body was covered with a sheen of moisture. Ian looked down and saw a spreading wet spot on the front of his trousers. He picked up his Nikon, and shot her laying there in post-orgasmic bliss. Her color was indeed rosy and her features had relaxed into softness.

Rebecca opened her eyes, realizing where she was and said shyly, "Sorry, I sometimes get carried away."

"Sorry, Lassie? You are the most amazing woman I hae e'er laid eyes on, ye are. I envy your lover," he said with conviction. "Now are we done?"

"Yes, thank you."

He fed the ends of the padlocks gently back into the holes in her cunt lips and closed each with a click. He ran his finger over the bottom of the butt plug. Then he went to put his gear into the cases, taking out the tapes and memory stick she had paid for. "I should get something fer me before giving you the tapes," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "But a deal's a deal." He gave her one last look, set them on the coffee table, and turned to leave.

"Come here, Ian," the low voice just reached his ears.

He turned to see her running her tongue around her lips suggestively.

"Ye don't hae to Lass, I were jus maakin' sport," his deep voice resounded through the still room.

"But I WANT to," she quietly but firmly. Her smile broadened as she sat up.

He wasn't so sure he could get it up so soon after cumming in his pants, but he needn't have worried. He was almost hard again when she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled him deep into a wet, warm throat. She tightened her lips and massaged his balls through his pants. Her head moved up and down on him. It was only a minute before she felt the first burst of cum hit the back of her throat as she was pulling back. She swallowed when she could, her cheeks hollowed as she stroked the length of his cock with her mouth, sucking every drop out of him. When he had plopped free, she licked her cum-coated tongue around her lips again. "Mmmm. Thank you, Sir," and was shocked at herself when she realized she meant it.

She looked at the clock and saw it was twenty to six. He had been there a little over an hour. "I have to go," she said pulling out a checkbook and quickly writing him his check.

"There's nae need o' payment, Lassie," he said uncharacteristically.

"Ah, but a deal's a deal," she smiled impishly before grabbing for her clothes and dropping her tip less bra in a drawer.

They walked hurriedly to the elevator, then out. "If yer e'er in need o' anithin', Ian MacGregor will be at yer service.

"Thank you, Ian." She raced to her car, and sped to Kyle's, hoping she wouldn't be late again. For once traffic was with her. She pulled into his drive a couple of minutes to six, grabbed the evidence and sprinted up the sidewalk, unbuttoning her blouse. She tore off her blazer and blouse. When the button on her skirt caught, she ripped it off and piled the skirt with her other items of clothing. She was just pushing the buzzer when she heard the clock inside chiming the hour.

She stood in garter belt and stockings, catching her breath, waiting to be admitted. She knew it was a part of the game that she be forced to wait but it always rankled nonetheless. There was more traffic this time of day and she was sure passing motorists could see her there. A car pulled into the driveway and she saw Ian MacGregor behind the wheel.

"Shit." She reached for the bell again, then pulled her hand back like she had burned it when she remembered the last time she had been impatient.

Ian walked up the sidewalk eying her almost nude body appreciatively. "We're waitin' fer someone Lassie?"

She tried to look nonchalant and straightened her shoulders under his gaze. "It will be answered momentarily." Her nipples were still red from their recent trauma, but he noted that her skin was flawless.

"Ye maad it in time?" he seemed to understand her predicament.

"Yes, thank you." Time—that reminded her that she hadn't removed her watch. It was flung on top of her other clothing.

"I tae it that yer friend lives here?" She nodded. "Luky maan, that."

Just then the door opened by Joanna, nude that is except for her collar. "Come in," she said holding the door as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Rebecca handed her tapes to Joanna, gave Ian one look, then went to the center of the room and assumed her position as he watched in astonishment.

"You are the photographer, I take it," it wasn't a question.

"Aye, Lassie. You be requirin' the key," he held it out.

"Thank you," she handed him 5 one hundred dollar bills. "Did Rebecca provide you with any sort of a tip for your consideration in providing your services on such short notice?"

He looked uneasily at Rebecca, who nodded slightly without looking up. "That she dae, Lass, and a right good job she dae o' it too."

"Good. You'll be wanting to go," she opened the door.

"'Twer nae trouble atall," he bowed ceremoniously and left.

Joanna left the room with the evidence that Rebecca had completed her required task. She knelt alone and thought about the fact that she hadn't washed up after the photo shoot. Her heart was finally slowing down. She was pleased with herself for meeting accomplishing HIS task. And her clit jumped unexpectedly when she thought back over the past hour. What more could he ask, she wondered? And was it possible for the intense orgasms of the past few weeks to continue? She knew that Kyle would know the answer to that as he knew everything else about her sexually. That had been scary at first, but now there was some solace in knowing that while she was flying blind, he knew exactly what he was doing. She thought of John back at the house and wondered if she could ever be satisfied with the "normal" sex life she had grown to despise.

She sensed, rather than heard Kyle enter the room. "Well done," his baritone voice startled her. Damn, why did she feel good that she had been an obedient submissive. "Position 2." Rebecca scrambled and turned gracefully, laid her head on the floor with her butt in the air, and pulled her ass cheeks wide apart in a fluid motion. He pulled her butt plug out and pushed it home. "Position 3." She stood, hands on the curve of her buttocks, elbows touching, breasts thrust out, and spun facing him.

"Joanna," he hardly raised his voice but she appeared. "Illustrate position 4 to my slut." Joanna bent over backward, her skin stretched taut until her hands reached the ground. Then she moved her left foot out until her cunt gaped open.

"I...I don't think I can bend backwards like that, Master. But I can do it from the ground," she remembered vividly the details of her last back bend.

"Do it," and he motioned Joanna up.

Rebecca lay on her back and inched herself up until her stomach was high in the air. She shifted her left foot outward as far as it would go. Kyle stepped between her legs and unlocked the padlocks and removed them. Then parting her lips he spoke as though recording the data for a scientific experiment, "her clit is still engorged. Must have been a decent orgasm." He smiled to himself noting the drool still being produced and stepped to the side.

Rebecca hated his inspections. He noticed everything and he was so, so RIGHT about everything. She shivered as he slowly ran his fingers from her knee to her thigh, then up over her tickle spot to the side of her crotch to the flat of her stomach. He toyed with her navel at the top before going down the other side over a be-studded breast, down over her throat, down farther to stroke her face before tangling his fingers in her hair, hanging about the floor.

"Nice," he mused. "So soft. So open. So vulnerable."

"Turn over and kneel," he told her. "Joanna position 5." She lay down in a smooth motion on her back, legs spread, and held open her pussy lips. "Notice that her cunt is facing me. The outside edges of her feet are on the floor pointing at me, almost touching her ass. Her feet are together."

"Yes, Master." How could a word carry so much meaning, she wondered. "Master?"

"Yes, Rebecca."

"I...I'm...," how could she say it? "Don't ever send me away, Master."

He looked into the depths of her eyes. "Your wish is to serve me?"

"Yes, Master," the words must have been coming from the mouth of someone she couldn't see.

He nodded. "Now you try the position." He motioned for Joanna to rise and leave. Rebecca took the required position, memorizing every detail. "You just have the top of your cunt lips open with one finger. Joanna had three fingers spread on each side to open up the entire cunt." She let go and pulled them back open with six fingers and her two thumbs so he could see everything. Kyle reached down and inserted his forefinger. He rubbed the top of her vagina in circles, noting its rough, bumpy texture—a sure sign of her arousal. A moan escaped from her lips, her eyes closed. Kyle smiled to himself. She was coming alone just fine.

"Get your collar."

"It's outside, Master." He nodded and she went to get it from her purse on the porch. Damn, she had left her purse in the car. Halfway down the walk, she looked to find three boys on the sidewalk staring at her. One nudged his friend without looking away and she heard him ask, "I thought women were supposed to be hairy down there." His friend nodded, "So did I." She never broke stride though as a wave of shame rushed over her and she continued on, retrieving her purse. Taking it with her, she ignored them and pulled out the collar she needed. The door had been left ajar and she soon reached the sanctuary of the living room and knelt. She knew the three boys would never again walk past this house without pausing to look and remember.

"Position 3," she handed him the collar, stepped wide as she brought her hands back. "Part your cunt lips. You know how I like it. Keep them wide apart." She used 3 fingers from each hand, but the wetness oozing out made them hard to hang onto. Kyle fingered her. "The boys seeing you turned you on, I see."

She didn't want to say anything, but knew better than to keep quiet when she was spoken to, or to try and lie. "Yes, I guess so, Master." Her fingers kept sliding off and she gripped them tighter each time she had to reposition her fingers. He put his fingers to her mouth and she licked them until they were clean, tasting the evidence of her arousal.

"Position 6 is simply kneeling on all fours. I think you can manage that without Joanna, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," she knelt down. The collar was buckled into place, snug, but didn't restrict her breathing. Her hair hung down around her head, and he tied it up so she could see.

"Joanna," he never raised his voice, but she appeared. He attached the leash to her collar and began to walk. She was right with him all the way. He stopped; she stopped. He turned left and right, and she was beside him. Rebecca watched from position 6, and was amazed at Joanna's ability to keep with him. He led her up until Joanna's head almost touched that of Rebecca. "You see how it's done. At no time was the leash ever tight. The proper distance from me is 8 inches." He unclipped the leash from Joanna and she was dismissed with a wave of his hand. "There is 18 inches from my hand to your collar. The leash is 30 inches long. You are to keep it slack at all times. Your head is to be straight in front of you looking down. That will give you the ability to watch my feet, or the feet of anyone I give you to, from the corner of your eye."

"Maria." To her astonishment the shoes of her maid appeared in front of her. Kyle handed her the leash. "Give her about 15 minutes of practice, not too difficult. This is her first time." They spoke of her as thought she wasn't even there.

"She will need some correction, unless I miss my guess." Rebecca could see a black rubber pointer digging into the carpet at the end of a round stick.

"Undoubtedly. Rebecca, you will obey her as you would me."

"Yes, Master." Damnation, she said to herself.

Maria took a step forward and Rebecca followed after a short delay. Maria stepped backward a step. Rebecca had started going forward when Maria had lifted her foot and the leash tugged at her neck before she could get back beside her. Swish! Crack! The teacher's pointer came down smartly on her left buttock. The pain left her gasping. Maria said nothing, but the lesson was clear. She stepped forward again and her trainee jumped to follow. Then back a step, forward a step, back a step, forward two steps. Rebecca was jerky in following along, unlike the practiced smoothness of Joanna. She thought she was getting the hang of it when Maria took a step to the right. She cringed when she felt the leash snap taut and Maria met her expectations as another Swish! Crack! Echoed in the room. Her knees were getting sore now, even though the carpet was soft. There was no help from the nylons that graced her legs. I'm not a dog, I'm not a dog, she repeated over and over to herself, but she kept a watchful eye on Maria's shoes.