Untraining Yourself Ch. 04

As Emily's summer ended and she prepared to move into a dorm room and begin her sophomore year at her new college, she had determined to complete the projects she'd started before classes began. One of those projects was her nascent research into the United States and her upbringing there. As an American girl, she'd been taught that her body was communal property of the men who had raised girls to adulthood, and that they were not just entitled to but obligated to train her sexually. While there were training experiences she looked back on fondly - and would even touch herself to, remembering her own nervousness and shame at how men would examine her and open her up and enjoy everything they saw - she now rejected this premise, and was starting to think about all the other strange things about her culture.

She was also practicing telling people where she was from, and both of these projects now intersected in the main university library. It was a Tuesday morning, the last week before classes would begin. The library was huge, with tall metal bookshelves and glass walls, and it was through these that Emily could see, from the outside, that it was nearly empty of patrons. She entered and approached the desk. The woman sitting behind it looked to be in her 30s, with tan skin and glasses with red plastic frames. Emily swallowed hard, and said, with more confidence than she was feeling. "I have a research project. Can you help?"

The woman looked at her quizzically. "Already? Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"It's a personal project," Emily responded, and when the woman said that she would do her best to point her in the right direction, Emily continued explaining. "I want to learn more about the United States. About what happened there when everything changed. When they started training girls."

Emily had learned from looking into this earlier as best she could that when the United States began their regime of girl-training, some other things had changed as well. They'd become a much more closed country, with limited information flowing out. Additionally, the focus on girl-training was part of a larger shift toward promoting marriage and fertility, against abortion and homosexuality, and toward a practically state-sponsored version of Evangelical Christianity which promoted the new girl-training ideology.

Finally, although she hadn't read about this anywhere yet, Emily had searched her own memories and had some realizations about the social dynamics of the United States -- particularly about who had daughters, and thus was eligible to train girls, and who did not. She was hoping that, with the guidance of the librarian, she could learn more about all of these things and put her own experience in a greater context.

The librarian seemed to think this was a normal-enough topic to inquire about. "Sure, I can help you with that. There were a few books written right after the sexual slavery of young women began that might help." Emily flinched a little at the term, and the librarian noticed but continued. "And since then there have been some research efforts, although we don't hear a lot directly. Are there any particular topics you're looking for?"

Emily screwed up her courage, and as normally as she could, replied. "I recently - I escaped, I guess you could say. I came here. So it's my story, too, and I'd just like to know more."

The librarian didn't react with shock or disgust the way Emily was afraid of, she just nodded and said "of course, absolutely. Well, we're happy to have you here, and if you wait here for a minute, I'll write down the call numbers of a few books I recommend looking at."

Emily felt just a little lighter, happy that she had shared this part of herself and that it had been alright. After the librarian handed her the slip of paper. Emily went to the stacks and checked a few of them out, opting to take them to the cafe and try another hard thing -- reading them in public, even if someone might notice and wonder why she was interested. She slipped them into her backpack and started on the way.

An hour into sitting in her favorite armchair and reading the first book - a memoir of a woman who had fled the United States to Mexico several years after girl-training had been adopted, bringing her young daughter but leaving her husband and son - Emily looked up and saw Benjamin smiling at her. Ever-dapper, her fellow expatriate was dressed today in light gray slacks, a white tee-shirt, and a cream-colored blazer. He sat down on the couch adjacent to her and she put her book down.

"Do you mind if I interrupt you?", he asked.

"It was just time for me to take a break," Emily responded, thinking about the time they'd spent in bed -- less than three weeks ago, but it seemed like much longer.

"I see you're doing some... research, is it?" He reached out and rested his arm on her shoulder for a moment.

"It is! The librarian helped me find it. It's funny, you spend your whole life in a place and so you just think it's normal, right?"

"Yeah. I know that feeling."

"How about that other...project we talked about? Any progress on that?" It took Emily a moment to realize he was talking about intercourse. Last time they'd gotten together, Emily had been trying hard to find a man to fuck her, and had been running into what felt to her like rejection after rejection, and she had been feeling pretty demoralized about it.

Benjamin had been as close as she'd gotten -- he told her he wasn't ready to penetrate her yet with his cock, but he used a clear glass toy that she easily opened up for, her wetness coating it as he fucked her until she cried out in orgasm. Since then, she'd also had another set of adventures with Ariel, who had met on an app. She had gone home with and he had been to one to strip for her pleasure and do as she asked, but she was the one to penetrate him - with a red toy in his ass - instead of the other way around.

"It's funny, I haven't thought about that as much lately. Not that I don't miss it, but it'll happen when it happens, right?" She paused. "Maybe it's because...well, all that stuff they told us about how girls need regular insemination? I know that's not true now. Even if it did feel really good."

The gynecologist Emily had visited for her first Canadian doctor's appointment had told Emily that semen did not have the almost magical properties that she had been taught it did. The doctor also given Emily her first STD tests (which Emily had since gotten negative results back for), and offered her an IUD (which Emily had initially demurred, but had since come back for, still not sure if the birth control shot she'd been given at puberty and told would not be reversed until marriage was actually effective.)

She'd also introduced Emily to condoms, a concept that very much went against what she'd been taught about the importance of getting all of her trainer's semen inside of her, but that she was told were normal here. And, thinking about that, something occurred to her that hadn't previously.

"Benjamin? Why didn't you and your wife ever have kids?"

Benjamin looked wistfully at her. "Well, we didn't want to right away. And then when we tried, we couldn't."

"The...the birth control shot they give girls? They couldn't reverse it?"

"No, it wasn't that. We went to the doctor, and it was me."

"It was you?" Emily was surprised.

"We don't really understand the technical processes behind it, but... in the United States, there's a lot of control about who reproduces and how. Because there's a lot at stake, right? If you father girls, then you get...you get access to have sex with all the young women. It's a privilege. I guess the government doesn't want that going to just anyone, so they have to do a lot to control procreation in general."

"That's awful!"

"It took us a long time to come to terms with it. My students are my kids in some ways, but of course it isn't the same."

"Was there anything else you...you figured out? Can you tell me anything?"

"Not really. Just that they won't come after you or anything like that. We were worried about that initially, but it doesn't happen. They might try to reach you, to persuade you to come back, but they're not going to kidnap you or anything. Everything is working pretty well down there -- you know, more or less. Occasionally someone runs away, but really not that often, and they get occasional right-wing nutjob immigrants to replace them, too. I mean, how crazy do you have to be to live outside the United States - to be raised without that propaganda and to still think, 'that's a really good idea'?" He shook his head.

It hadn't occurred to Emily that she might be grabbed and taken back to the United States, but she was still glad to hear it.

"How did you tell people where you were from? The responses I've gotten have been..mixed, I guess."

"People mostly take their cues from you. If you're confident about it, you give them permission to treat you normally. Well, mostly. As I get older -- well, people don't automatically know if I left when I was younger, or if I 'trained' girls. I make sure to tell them that my wife and I came here as teenagers."

Emily decided there was another conversation she needed to have, another project of sorts to wrap up. She asked Benjamin if she could come over again to his house, to explore together and maybe try some of his other toys, and he smiled a wide smile at her and they made a date for the following night. After she gathered up her books and was getting ready to leave, she whispered a request to him. He nodded, looked around to see if anyone was looking, and then gave her a quick kiss on her lips.

-----------------

David was the first man Emily had hooked up with in Canada, the first sexual experience she'd had with another person, ever, that she would have been able to say no to, and therefore also the first one where she had truly said yes. He'd brought her to orgasm with his fingers and tongue, but when he brought out a condom and she didn't know what it was and wouldn't explain how this was the case, he left. He'd promised her coffee the next morning and he had come through -- but the coffee was left at her door with his phone number and a note about how she should get in touch when she was ready to tell him what her deal was.

At the time, Emily had not been ready to tell him what her deal was.

She entered his number into her phone and tried to go for casual and upbeat. "Hi! It's Emily, from last week. Come over! I'll make you iced coffee." Her phone immediately showed that her message had been read, but for what felt like minutes, she saw only the dots that indicated that something was being typed. Finally, a response. "Hey Emily. Sure, I can come over."

She wanted to prepare -- to brush her hair, to put on something sexy. She even for a moment thought about disrobing completely and meeting him at her door like that, but she dismissed it. Although it would be easier in some ways to offer herself to him, to act out trainer and trainee, Emily knew that whatever they were to do needed to start with a conversation, and that as comfortable as she was feeling in her own naked body, this was a conversation she should be wearing clothes for.

So Emily remained in her shorts and tee-shirt, put some coffee on, and waited, and it wasn't long before she heard a knock at her door. She opened it to see David, and she was reminded of how much taller he was than her. He wore a light blue spandex outfit that made his quads look even bigger than she'd remembered them being and she wondered whether he'd just been biking or at the gym. She stood on her toes to give him a hug, and he seemed happy to see her, although his expression didn't give much away beyond that.

She welcomed him in and poured them both iced coffee, and she motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs next to her coffee table. She took the other and looked around her studio apartment, thinking about how small it was and how it was awkward to be having this conversation so close to her bed. Back in the United States, Emily realized, every space -- even in public -- was potentially one where a trainer might decide to strip you down and have you, but here, there was supposed to be more separation.

David didn't say much and seemed to be waiting for her to tell him why he was here.

She began. "So that was...that was fun a few weeks ago. But weird, right?"

He nodded. "It seemed like you had a lot going on in your head."

"I did...I still do, I guess." There was silence, and she knew he was waiting for her to say more. "So I told you I'd just moved here, right?" He agreed. "I actually...I sort of fled. From the United States. I couldn't stay there anymore."

"Oh fuck!" He put his glass down suddenly. She didn't think that David was someone who was thrown off with any degree of frequency, but this seemed to be having that effect.

"Oh fuck, right?" She tried to smile. "I'm ok. Or...maybe I'm not ok yet, but I think I'm going to be."

As she watched David, she could see him putting the pieces together of their experience in bed, adding in this new information. "So that's why...that blow job you gave me? That was a...a training thing they did to you?" He seemed like he might be hurt by this, although she didn't know why.

"Yeah, I mean. I learned that in training, sure. But I always liked using my mouth. Seeing how I could make a man respond. Feeling...powerful, almost. And skilled."

"Did you want to be doing that for me? Did you want to be doing any of that? Or did you just feel like you had to?" He was crossing his arms, folding into himself.

"Of course! David! It was incredible!" And Emily tried to explain what it had been like to flirt with him, to ask for what she wanted, to offer herself solely because she wanted to and not because he was eligible and she was obligated. To get to think about what she was attracted to, and to sleep with a man her own age and not one old enough to be her father. By the end, she felt overwhelmed, almost close to tears, but she didn't think they were sad ones. "Do you...do you understand now?"

"I think so. Sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm glad that it was a good experience for you. I had no idea that was where you were going through." He still seemed flustered but no longer like he might be angry at her. "I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have left like that. If I'd known."

"You couldn't have known because I didn't tell you," Emily responded, and they both seemed in agreement about that. She remembered something related that she needed to tell him. "I went to the doctor at the student health center and she told me about condoms. And she gave me some."

He smiled a little and congratulated her, but he seemed unsure about what to say next. "Did you invite me over for...did you want to do that?" And she couldn't tell whether he was into that idea or not.

"Oh. Um. No? I don't know. I just wanted to tell you, mainly? I thought I owed you that, and when I move into a dorm next week and... try to make friends, I guess, I want to be able to talk about this and not have it be weird."

As she spoke, she looked over his body again, remembering why she was so drawn to him initially and trying to decide if maybe she did want to have sex with him. She liked the blue of the spandex against the dark brown of his legs and thought of the contrast her fair skin made against his, the contrast of their bodies in general. The way she could curl up on his chest and feel enveloped in him. She thought of hopping onto his lap and grabbing his face and kissing him hard and seeing where it went. "Or maybe not..not sex, exactly, but we could just see where things go?"

He finally gave her the big smile she realized she'd been waiting to see. "No pressure, ok?"

He rose and she followed, and she couldn't have told you exactly how it happened, but a moment later he was shirtless and laying down on her bed and her body was on top of his, her lips pressing hard against his lips and the tip of her tongue in his mouth. She fumbled for his cock and, still kissing him, pulled it out of his shorts. He moaned a little as she started to jerk him off, her thumb pressed against the base as she lightly pulled up and down. When he was fully hard, she stopped kissing him and got to her knees on the bed.

David was already breathing heavy, and he looked at her wide eyes, waiting to see what would come next. She took the head of his cock in her mouth, her tongue pressed against it, and then took a long, slow suck from the base to the head, and then another.

And then she stopped and looked at him and told him that she wanted him to play with her pussy. He made a little sound in the back of his throat but agreed, and soon she was on her back and he was kneeling between her legs, a finger inside of her and another making circles on her clitoris. She liked the urgency with which he was fucking her that way and the sound of her wetness, her need for this. She spread her legs even further, as if this would help him get deeper, and she begged him for more. He added another finger and continued pounding her like that, and she felt totally present, thinking about how they were in bed together simply because they both wanted to be.

"You are so hot, David." she managed to get out, and he responded with a wet kiss over her clit, and she could feel her thighs tense up in response.

"You're almost there?", he asked, although it was as much a statement as a question. She said that he was, and she realized that there was something else she wanted. She pulled him toward her until she could take his cock in her mouth again. While he continued fucking her with his fingers, she enjoyed the sensation of being full in both places. She tried to focus on the blowjob, but her pussy was so close to orgasm that it was all she could do to just keep him in her mouth as she sucked.

And then, with his cock still in her mouth, Emily's wet little pussy began to squeeze the two fingers inside of her. David kept fucking her like that, and then she was past the point of return. She cried out, muffled by his cock. Her whole body went rigid, the muscles in her thighs and her stomach visible.

When she was done, she lay with her head on his chest and played with his cock, still hard, and thought about what had just happened. It hadn't felt like a training session and she hadn't really wanted it to, although she loved the way he knew exactly how to touch her, and she liked feeling like she'd done a good job. She asked him if he wanted to come and he replied enthusiastically, and soon she was on her hands and knees and he was jerking off, his cock touching her ass.

Emily liked being in that position. She liked the idea that he had a view of her thighs and her butt, two parts of her body she was rightly proud of, and she liked the idea that she was sharing these parts of herself willingly out of need and attraction. She could hear from his sounds that he was getting closer, and she heard her voice cry out, "come for me, please, please, please, I need this" and as she begged, she felt him explode onto her ass, the warmth of his cum dripping down onto her legs.

She stayed in that position until he cleaned her off with a wet washcloth and then toweled her dry, and then she all-of-a-sudden felt very naked and pulled on a tank top and panties. They cuddled in bed like that for awhile, talking about how the semester was about to start and how they felt about that. Emily had just found out what dorm she'd be living in, and it was across campus from David's.

During her first year of college, Emily had her own dorm room-- all the girls in their training period in the United States, in order to make it more convenient for their trainers - and she was nervous about the idea of sharing a room with another girl. She'd realized that she didn't know what parts of girl-culture in the United States were entwined with how they were all sexual trainees. Like, was it normal to walk around practically naked, or to help each other shave your pubic hair? Did girls even shave here, or was that atypical? David's contribution to this last question was, "uhh...I think it varies," and he was completely unsure whether it was normal for girls to walk around naked in their dorm rooms, although he noted that he certainly hoped this was a typical thing.