Training Ch. 03

The aftershocks from the orgasm still rippled through Eileen's body as she sat quietly on the edge of the bed. She made no move and offered no resistance as her husband locked the wide, padded, polished metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles. She could still taste the bitter dregs of his semen in her mouth, and her ass throbbed from the smooth metal probe she had so recently pushed up inside herself. It had been bad enough when he had tied her down helpless and violated her; but today, she had done it herself. She had thrust the thick, veined rubber dildo into herself while the bellhop watched; her hands had driven the probe into her ass while her husband used her mouth. And both times, even while shame and disgust poured through her, she had climbed to heights of ecstatic pleasure she scarcely even knew were possible.

All her life, her mother had warned her against this. From the earliest days she could remember, her mother had told her about women who became too attached to sex. Eileen could vividly recall one day, many years ago, when her mother had gathered her up on the rocking chair she used to sit in near the big bay window and explained the rules of sex to her. "Now, child," she had said, as she smoothed her powder blue dress to make room on her lap, "there are some things you must know so that you grow up to be a proper lady."

Eileen had climbed into her lap to listen, wide-eyed. "The world is filled with corrupt and evil men, and the only thing they want is to do is to use you for disgusting things. You must hold on to your virtue, and hold on tight. Otherwise they will ruin and spoil you."

She clutched her mother's dress, confused and frightened. "How will they do that, mommy?"

"They will want to touch you, the same way that a mommy and a daddy do to make babies. They will tell you that it will feel good. But you mustn't let them! Girls who like the way it feels will turn into dirty tramps. You mustn't let that happen to you. Only when you are married should you do these things, and only to have babies. Remember that!"

Anthony's voice jerked her back to the present. "Lie down." He put his hand between her breasts and pressed her back on the bed. She whimpered and lay still. He bustled around the bed, and in moments the cuffs she wore were locked to the chains attached to the corners of the bed. As he had done the night before, he left the chains slack enough for her to change position and roll over, but short enough that she could not leave the bed or touch herself.

When he'd finished, he sat on the bed and smiled down at her. "When we first met, you thought the idea of oral sex was disgusting, remember? You said you'd never done anything except in the missionary position. With the lights off." He chuckled. "We're only two days into our honeymoon, and here you are screwing in dark alleyways, fucking yourself in the ass, and jilling off in front of the hotel staff." He brushed her hair away from her face and caressed her cheek. "And for someone who doesn't like giving head, you suck cock like a pro."

She flushed and recoiled at his words. "Why are you saying these things to me? Why are you doing these things to me? You have no right!"

"Why? Because you want me to." He traced one of her nipples idly with his finger. She jerked away and tried to cover herself with her arms. The chains brought her up short.

"No! I don't want you to! You are r-r-raping me!"

He placed both hands on her shoulders and pressed her firmly down onto the bed. She struggled and tried to twist away. He leaned over her and held her pinned under his weight until her struggles subsided. "Raping you?" he asked. "Hmm. Yes. Yes, I suppose I am. Several times, as I recall." His hands glided over her smooth, soft skin, down over the swelling mounds of her breasts. He squeezed and fondled roughly; his thumbs pressed into her nipples. "And I've only just begun. I have lots more in store for you!"

Tears slid silently from her eyes. "Why are you doing this? It's wrong!"

"The real question is, why does it get you off? You come every time I do these things to you. Your body must like it."

She shuddered and tried to turn away from him. He gripped her breasts tightly and pushed her flat on her back. She shuddered and wept harder. "Don't touch me! You have no right! Let go of me!"

His hands squeezed and relaxed rhythmically on her breasts. "Have you wondered why it is you get so wet when I force myself on you? Have you thought to ask yourself why you're so turned on when I chain you down and shove things up your ass, or why your nipples get hard when I expose you to people?" He squeezed harder, and she gasped. "For that matter, have you wondered why you acquiesced to all this so easily? You've scarcely put up a struggle at all. You haven't tried to leave or fly back home or anything." He leaned close and grazed her lips lightly with his. She turned her face away from him, and he chuckled. "It's because, deep down inside, this is what you want. You want to be a sex slave." His warm breath touched her ear. "You like this," he murmured softly. "This is what gets you hot."

"No! No!" she cried. The chains clanked as she thrashed under him. "You're wrong! You're making me do this! You-you bastard!"

"Don't try to pretend this doesn't get you off, you dirty little slut." He shoved his hand roughly between her legs, forced her knees apart. "Do you remember the story you told me when we first started dating, about how you discovered masturbation? Do you remember describing the only way you could make yourself come?"

She writhed on the bed, sobbing. "I...I told you..."

"You told me that the only fantasy that worked for you was about being kidnapped by pirates. You would lie in your bed, when everyone else was asleep, and imagine that they had taken you captive. You told me how the pirates stripped you and paraded you naked on the deck of the ship, remember? Then they took some rope and tied you to the mast, and they all took turns raping you. When they were finished-"

"When they were finished," she said quietly, "they locked me in a cell deep below deck and kept me there. Sometimes, one of them would come into my cell and force himself on me. They would make me do things, dirty things, with my hands and my mouth and my body. They would push me down on the floor and have sex with me through the bars." Her face turned crimson.

"Mmm, yes." Anthony caressed her gently. His fingers brushed back a dark curl of hair that had fallen in her face. "And sometimes, there would be more than one of them, wouldn't there? Two or three of the pirates would go into your cell at the same time. They would all take you at the same time, and you couldn't get away. Your family tried to ransom you, but in your fantasy the pirate captain took a special fancy to you, didn't he? He decided he would rather keep you for himself. So he locked you in his cabin, and he used you whenever he liked. Isn't that right?"

His hand probed deeper between her legs. Long, agile fingers parted her lips, coaxed out her clit. She shuddered and wept harder. "That doesn't make it okay for you to do this to me! You have no right! You can't do this!"

He chuckled. "Oh, yes, I'm sure it is wrong. I don't care. I enjoy raping you. And if you want to fight and scream and try to convince me that you don't like it, well..." He grinned. His thumb pressed hard against her clit. She shuddered and cried out, half in pleasure, half in pain. "All the better. I like when you struggle." Abruptly, he pulled his hands away. "Go to sleep, little whore. Things are about to get a lot more intense."

She rolled away from him and curled up as much as the chains would allow. Her shoulders shook with her sobs. He slid into the bed behind her and pulled up the covers. Her body flinched when he touched her, but he pressed his body to her nonetheless and took her in his arms. Eventually her sobs subsided and her breathing slowed, and she dreamed of pirates and small, dark cells.

When morning came, Anthony rose before Eileen. He slipped on a robe and padded to the closet where he had stashed his enormous trunk, filled with equipment he'd suspected he might need. The lid was secured with a small combination lock, which opened quickly under his fingers. He withdrew several objects from within the trunk and hummed softly to himself as he set up for the morning.

When he was satisfied that all was ready, Anthony turned to the bed where his wife lay sleeping. The robe slipped easily from his shoulders and fell with a whisper to the floor.

He knelt and tightened the chains binding Eileen's wrists. She moaned and stirred restlessly in her sleep. A few quick adjustments later, the chains on her ankles were tight as well.

Eileen roused slowly from a heavy slumber. Sleep dragged at her, sucking her back down into its warm, comfortable embrace. She stirred blearily on the edge of wakefulness, not quite sure where she was. Her arms were stretched out taught to the corners of the bed; a dim realization came to her that she could not move them. As awareness rose, she became conscious that her legs were spread uncomfortably wide, and she could not close them. The tattered edges of sleep clung to her like a blanket, clouding her mind. "Wha--?"

She opened her eyes blearily. At first, she could not make sense of what she saw; blurred shapes moved close to her. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows, blindingly bright. Her vision cleared very slowly.

As the world came into focus, the first thing she saw was Anthony's massive erection, jutting hard only inches from her face. She stared at it groggily without comprehension. His face resolved itself above her, dark eyes regarding her. She shook her head, trying to clear the sleep from her mind.

"Good morning, sleepyhead! Time to wake up. We have a lot to do!"

She blinked fuzzily. "What?" Somewhere, in some distant, sleep-addled corner of her mind, alarm bells were ringing dimly. Why couldn't she move?

"Oh, yes," he said cheerfully. "I've decided to completely rearrange your training program. I've been up all morning working on your new regimen. In fact, thinking about it has got me so horny, I want to use you now."

She blinked, saw motion. Her eyes returned to his erection. He was stroking himself slowly, hands moving up and down his rigid cock.

She squirmed and tried to move away. Chains bound her tightly, stretching her arms out to her sides, holding her legs wide. She was lying on her back in the center of the bed, spread-eagle, unable to move even the smallest amount.

He watched the realization dawn in her eyes and smiled. "Yes."

A jagged spike of panic shot through her. She struggled wildly against the chains, sleep evaporating. "No! No!"

He moved to lie on top of her; the weight of his body pressed into her, bare skin on bare skin. She struggled harder still, helpless. "No!" The head of his cock touched her, where wetness was already flowing.

With a grunt, he thrust himself hard into her. She screamed as he impaled her. She was throbbing and sore, still bruised deep inside from what he had done to her yesterday. The pounding started immediately; he offered her no chance to adjust to the shock of his erection within her, no opportunity to acclimate at all. He fucked her fast, hard, his hips slamming against her at every stroke, while she screamed and flailed powerlessly at the cuffs on her wrists and ankles. His eyes were unfocused, looking through her rather than at her, and she knew in an instant that he wasn't even paying attention to her. He was merely masturbating with her body, using her like he would use a sex toy, a thing.

She screamed and struggled impotently until his cock swelled inside her. With a grunt, he came, erupting within her. She felt the wet slap of his semen, and her face burned with shame. Her screams subsided to whimpers. He pulled out of her and stood. Sweat covered her body, and already she could feel his gooey wetness flowing out of her gaping sex and dripping onto the bed. She shuddered, trapped, unable to turn away and hide herself from him.

"Mmm, that felt nice," he said. "I should do that every morning." A few quick motions and the chains fell away from her wrists and ankles. She turned on her side away from him and curled up to hide her nakedness with her hands.

"Nope! Get up!" he said. "Your old training program was based on the idea that you would be much more difficult to train than you are. Everyone else thought that it'd take a long time to get you to where you are now. Good thing I knew better, and planned ahead." He reached out and grabbed her wrists tightly. Strong arms pulled her hands away from her breasts, rolled her over to face him. He lifted straight up, dragging her from the bed with her arms above her head. She pulled and tugged feebly; he ignored her and half-carried her over to the window.

When they reached the window, her eyes opened wide. Midmorning sun bathed her, streamed down on people scurrying along the sidewalk below. She began to struggle more fiercely. His grip tightened on her wrists, and he dragged her onto the platform he'd set up the day before. Chains hung from the corners of the curtain rod, where it was anchored firmly to the wall. It took him only a moment to lock the cuffs around her wrists to the chains, despite her resistance. Chaining her ankles to the edges of the platform required more work; she screamed and fought him like a wildcat, even with her wrists bound, and he was panting with exertion by the time she was standing bound and stretched spread-eagle in front of the window.

He stood behind her and reached around to touch her body. His hands glided over her, fondling her breasts, caressing her sides, stroking her arms. She jerked and shuddered, helpless to move away. The London streets spread out below her, and she felt vulnerable and very, very exposed.

Lips grazed the back of her neck, raising goose bumps. He kissed her neck softly as his hands closed around her breasts. "We will still be doing your regular daily anal training and forced oral sex," he said, "so you needn't worry about that." He drew her tight against his body, and the tip of his tongue flicked against her ear. "But I'll be adding two more daily sessions to your training." A hand slid lower, down the front of her body, over her mound. "This is one of them."

"What...what are you doing?"

"The purpose of this part of the training," he said, stepping back, "is to teach your lovely cunt to contract very hard when you come. This will make your orgasm more pleasurable for me when I'm fucking you." He walked around to the nightstand, picked up an object, and held it up for her to see. Dull metal gleamed in the light from the window. It was a round, silvery-gray metal ball, about the size of a golf ball, connected to a short metal rod with a small, blunt hook on the end. He stood beside her and ran the smooth metal sphere down over her breast. It was cool to the touch, and she shivered.

"This," he said as he knelt beside her, "goes in your cunt." With a swift movement, he shoved it deep into her dripping wetness. She arched and screamed in surprise and shock.

"Hold it!" he said. "Clamp down on it!" He took his hand away; the ball stayed inside her, with the hook hanging down humiliatingly out of her. It felt hard and heavy within her, and she felt soreness as she clamped down on it.

"Good," he said. "Now, I'm going to make you come, and you're going to keep clamping down on it and hold it inside you when you come. When you get to the point where you can hold it in you every time you orgasm, I'll start hanging weights from it to make it heavier. Before you know it, your body will clamp down automatically whenever you come."

He turned away again. She stood helpless and stretched in front of the window, feeling the cool hard weight inside her. Tears began sliding silently down her cheeks. "No," she whispered softly, "you can't do this to me..."

"Oh, but I can!" He was there at her side again, not quite touching her. Something buzzed in his hand. Without warning, he pressed the egg-shaped vibrator against her clit.

She shrieked in surprise. The metal ball slid from her with a wet slurp and thudded to the floor.

He knelt and picked it up. "I know this won't be easy at first. Don't worry, though. We still have more than a week and a half of honeymoon left. By he time we get back home, you'll grab onto anything that's shoved in you without even thinking about it." He placed one hand on her thigh to steady her and pushed the metal ball up into her again. "Hold it!"

She screamed and clenched as tightly as she could. Hard metal pressed against her G-spot, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Tears leaked from her tightly-closed eyes and she fought against her own arousalNo, no, no, I don't like this, I don't want to be turned on...

He brought the buzzing vibrator back to her clit. She threw her head back and moaned. Waves of pleasure crashed through her. Warm wetness as his tongue slid over her nipple; she shuddered and pressed her breast to his face unconsciously. "Oh, God, please, no," she said, "please, please, no...oh!"

The orgasm took her hard. She spasmed and shook with ecstasy. The metal ball shifted as she came, and she realized what was about to happen just a split second before it slipped and fell. Anthony took the vibrator away, just moments before the peak of orgasm, and she shuddered and clenched on nothing. Arousal was swamped by frustration. "No! Please!"

He picked up the device and looked at it. "Not quite good enough. We'll have to keep doing this until you get it right."

She hung limply from the chains, panting. Below her, on the street, she could see somebody looking up at her. Fire colored her cheeks. "No, please, no more. Please..."

There was no gentleness in him when he shoved the ball into her once more. He forced it deep, until it bottomed against her cervix and took her breath away. "Hold onto it."

The small, powerful vibrator touched her again. Her clit screamed in response; following so closely on her orgasm, it was too much, and she cried out and jerked her hips away. Tears flowed anew. "No! Please, I'm too sensitive!"

"Well, perhaps you'll like this better, then." He set the egg down and knelt directly in front of her. Lightly, gently, he touched her clit with just he tip of his tongue. Even that was almost unbearable, and she moved her hips backward again to escape. His hands moved immediately to her ass, and he drew her forward to his waiting tongue. She quivered and pulled uselessly against the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. "No! No, Anthony, you'll hurt me! I-I can't, not again, it's too much, please!"

His tongue circled her clit with skill and precision. She shuddered and tried to pull away. Arousal and revulsion both swept through her. "Anthony, stop! It's dirty! I have come in me! Don't...oh, God!"

He seemed to have an almost telepathic sense of how to move, how much she could bear. His tongue pressed and swirled, always right on the edge of being unbearable, prompting her body to respond. She stared down at his broad muscular shoulders and felt the familiar stirring inside her. The sobs turned to sighs, then to moans. She stopped struggling and pressed herself to him. "Oh, God, it feels so good, I'm going to-"

He flicked his tongue rapidly over her. She shuddered and cried out in pleasure. The orgasm built rapidly, and as she shook and moaned, the metal ball slid out. He stopped licking her instantly. Her hands curled into fists and she let out a long, anguished wail of frustration and disappointment. For a timeless instant, she stayed there, balanced on the edge of ecstasy; then, amazingly, she came, without touch or penetration. It was a weak, confused orgasm, a brief flash of pleasure without relief, and it left her even more frustrated than if she had not come at all.