How to Train Your Daughter Ch. 14

She already loved the rare opportunities she'd had to ride in Dave's rig while clothed, but the soft, warm leather and the gentle vibrations felt even better against her naked skin, and she visibly loosened up and relaxed as she melted into the safety of the big vehicle's darkly-tinted windows.

I rode in the back seat, and got to know the sweet girl better as we drove. She was studying physics at university, and it happened that I had just returned from a brief trip to London, where I'd been fortunate enough to visit the Greenwich Royal Observatory.

It was one of my favorite places I'd ever been, and I told her how I'd gotten to see the little cottage where Astronomer Royal Neville Maskelyne had lived with his family and his telescopes, and had taught his daughter, Margaret, the science of the heavens. She had helped him map the stars and measure, for the first time, the mass of the earth, and Emily and I chatted pleasantly about scientific history, and the place she hoped one day to hold in it.

Dave interrupted our diverting conversation by asking Emily her favorite coffee shop and, caught off guard, the naked girl blurted out the truth.

Too late, she realized her mistake and tried to change her answer, but Dave just smiled and said we'd go to the first place she'd named as her eyes grew wide and she pouted.

I chuckled to myself. He'd timed his question to get an authentic response, and he knew that she was regretting accidentally giving him the power to take her to a place where she was a regular, and was more likely to be seen by people she knew and saw often; but that was precisely the situation he knew would challenge her obedience and trust, and which would yield the best results from his meticulous training methods.

We pulled up shortly to the coffee shop, which bustled on this agreeable Saturday morning, and Dave looked over at his trainee.

'Now, Emily, I want you to imagine you're dressed in your favorite outfit—that sundress you were wearing earlier, for example, was very flattering, and you looked beautiful—and to act exactly as if you are fully clothed, and behave like a perfect lady while we're in there, do you understand? Be polite, look people in the eye, and don't touch your breasts or your cunny.'

Emily nodded, visibly steeling herself for her first nude walk in public.

'Yes, Mr. Kendrick, I'll be good, I promise.'

'Excellent. I know I can trust you—all of your training has led to this. Are you ready?'

'Yes, sir,' she nodded again, 'I'm ready.'

I got out and opened Emily's door, offering my hand to help her alight, and I was enchanted.

The timid, uncertain girl of just a little while ago was gone, and a confident, strong, beautiful trainee was in her place.

Emily's heels stepped to the pavement and she stood tall, her chin high, her pearl choker seeming to magically clothe her more completely and elegantly than any dress; and she appeared to draw power from the elegant strand of iridescent white ocean gems, cloaking her naked body in their ephemeral, stately aura and carrying herself like a princess who was sure of her duty, and of herself.

Girls were generally expected to wear as little clothing as possible in any circumstances, and their outfits were chosen to enhance and showcase their physical charms, rather than to conceal them; but while it was not unheard of for a girl to be seen in public completely naked, it was the exception rather than the rule, and usually meant a girl was either undergoing severe punishment, or was an exceptionally well-trained girl receiving highly advanced lessons, and Emily's fetching nude form drew pleased and appreciative, though respectful, looks from the tables outside the coffee shop as we walked to the door and I opened it for the birthday girl.

Her admirable poise seemed to take a blow as she entered the shop, however, and she suddenly turned back and tried to make an exit, running headlong into Dave's broad chest.

'Oh my gosh, please, Mr. Kendrick,' she pleaded, 'Please, can we go somewhere else?'

Dave took her by the shoulders and calmed her.

'I'm sorry Emily, but no; we'll get coffee here. Tell me what is bothering you, sweet thing.'

Looking like she was about to die, the poor girl pointed to the boy behind the counter, a tall, lanky young man with a dark, curly shock of hair and a relaxed, intelligent smile that competed for one's attention with the surprisingly sculpted biceps filling the sleeves of his polo shirt behind his apron.

We listened as she explained that he was a senior at the university, a teacher's assistant a couple years older than her, and facilitated a few of her differential equations study groups; and it turned out she had a pretty major crush on him.

'...He's clever and funny and real smart...and really...good-looking...and he's always nice to me,' she whispered in growing horror at her current situation. 'I get the craziest butterflies in my tummy every time we pass in the halls or I see him anywhere, Mr. Kendrick, or when he sends me notes about how I can improve my contributions to our group projects. I thought he was off work today, and I can't believe he's here—please, please can we go somewhere else?'

Dave smiled understandingly, and shook his head.

It wasn't unusual, of course, for a girl to have crushes on boys, but while a young man like Emily's cerebral heartthrob might ask a girl like her out on an occasional, harmless date, he was never permitted to have sex with her unless they married; the unparalleled pleasures of young girls' bodies were reserved exclusively for the discerning, rightful enjoyment of eligible men, like Dave and myself.

I could see that Dave, like me, was a little touched by Emily's earnest and understandable desire not to let the object of her puppy love see her while she was naked and clearly in training by two men; but he patiently explained that her objections had no relation to the intent of her lesson, and were ultimately irrelevant anyway, pointing out gently but firmly that a young girl's fleeting feelings for boys were far too trivial a matter to take seriously in light of the important responsibility he and I had to the essential work of guiding her sexual development.

Emily knew he was right, of course, and she apologized for her moment of weakness, thanking Dave for his patience and assuring us that she would be good from now on; then she pushed her glasses up her nose, squared her shoulders, and set her chin with a smile as she turned around and walked to the counter as if she were wearing a sweeping gown, her breasts proudly leading the way, her nipples resolutely erect.

She greeted him politely, and as we ordered our drinks the poor fellow could hardly speak a word, he was so overcome by the unexpected sight of his classmate appearing at his counter in nothing but a pearl choker, and while he clearly tried to remain circumspect in his glances at her naked body, his blushing brow and his stammering replies betrayed how affected he was by her nude radiance, and how dearly he wished to stare in adoration, rather than merely glance, at her most intimate parts.

We were pleased to see Emily attempt to carry on a conversation with the boy as he made our order, despite his sudden tongue-tied state, and when she asked him if he was going to the student picnic next weekend, he said he was and managed, with great effort, to ask her if she'd like to go together.

She played it surprisingly cool, and said she'd think about it and let him know on Monday, and we were about to leave with our drinks when I stopped to get the barista's name and phone number; I knew he was Morgan Lynn's type, and my wife would probably enjoy training him.

'She's very good,' I told him, as Emily silently watched, the crestfallen look on her face plainly wishing, with all her heart, that I was speaking about her and not my wife. 'Very confident, very skilled. I think she'll like handling you.'

Back in the car, Emily gave a huge sigh and burst into giddy laughter, relief and adrenaline flooding her naked little body as she completed the first item on her special day's training agenda, and we praised her and told her she'd been a very good girl in the coffee shop.

'Oh my gosh, that was such a crazy rush!' She said, squirming a little. 'Oh man, Mr. Kendrick, I'm so wet right now—I'm going to make a mess on your seat...'

Dave laughed and reminded her not to try to clean up either the seat nor her leaking nethers; we wanted to continue to build on her budding associations between her public nudity and her arousal; and if she was obedient, the slick, warm flow between her legs would be a constant and undeniable reminder of her body's sacred purpose that would stoke its own fire, and she would be far more of a mess before we were done today.

'Let's discuss what you experienced in there,' he said as we drove to the art museum. 'Were you constantly getting wet the whole time, or were there moments that pushed your body into arousal?'

Emily thought for a moment. Often one of the more difficult skills for girls to learn was to be comfortable clearly, frankly communicating to men about every aspect of their young bodies and minds.

It was essential for a girl to understand that every part of her person was a possible source of pleasure for a man, and that she must always be a beautiful, open book for her handlers; and being able to accurately and explicitly describe her body's responses and proclivities, and to communicate clearly to a trainer the best ways he might choose enjoy her body, was an important thing for a girl to be able to do.

This sort of open communication about even the most intimate elements of herself was especially essential in the relationship between a trainee and her mentor, and Emily had clearly been working on this with Dave; it was heartwarming to hear the sweet girl thoughtfully articulate how her naked little body had responded to her exposure.

'Well, I actually got really wet when we talked and I decided I could do it, and walked to the counter,' she said, remembering with a giggle. 'I was so alert and sensitive to everything, cause I was kind of scared, honestly, and I could actually feel my inner lips slipping and sliding together a little with my juices as I walked, which I've never felt before. And then it was kinda like a dream—I don't remember much until—well, I don't know why, Mr. Kendrick, but when Mr. Stevenson was talking to him at the end, I felt...a lot...of moisture...'

'That makes sense,' Dave nodded thoughtfully. 'Sometimes not getting something we want, and seeing it go to someone else, makes us want it even more.'

He listed the factors that may have contributed to the puzzling state of Emily's hungry young vagina.

'You really like that boy in there, and you're never permitted to have sex with him, and we forced you to let him see you naked and look at your whole body; and then Mr. Stevenson made you watch while he reserved him for a training session with his wife, which caused you imagine the beautiful thing you want so badly being enjoyed by someone else—someone more skilled and knowledgeable than you, who has the right to enjoy the thing you want, but aren't allowed to have.'

Emily's eyes grew wide in astonishment as her mentor described exactly the emotions that had coursed through her, and the intricate chain reaction of small emotional and physical relationships that had culminated now in her drenched and needy cunny, and she sat quietly for a few minutes, contemplating the vast, complex interplay of the innumerable points of meaning that comprised her, and grateful for Dave's attentive, thorough guidance and insight in all matters of her sexual development.

'I'm glad I was there to witness that,' he continued. 'It is useful for me to know how your body responds to withheld pleasure, and it will add more depth to your training program now that I have observed just how strongly it affects you, sweet girl.'

Emily blushed a little and smiled out of the window, clearly awash in the feelings of trust and care that marked a good relationship between a trainee and her mentor, confident that Dave had her best interests in mind, and her sexual education—and her adorable naked body—in hand.

After a moment of quiet, she looked over at Dave, her voice soft.

'Thank you for being my mentor, Mr. Kendrick.'

I smiled to myself as he replied by simply reaching over and brushing her cheek softly with his hand, and giving her white breast a gentle, affectionate squeeze.

The Stonewall Museum of Art was a dynamic, contemporary structure, and as we pulled up Emily gave a cry of excitement.

'The special exhibition! Oh, Mr. Kendrick, I wanted to see this so badly—I'm so happy I get to visit before it ends!'

She was far more comfortable in her nudity now, and we walked together into the museum and purchased three tickets for the special exhibit, her splendid little figure and clean lines earning appreciative looks and nods from all directions, then entered the main gallery through a short hallway decorated in baroque style and into a high, skylit gallery beneath an ornate banner that read, 'Odalisque and Courtesan: Visions of Pleasure.'

Emily was beside herself, and seemed almost to forget her nakedness in her excitement as she wandered, transfixed, from canvas to canvas of sensual, opium-hazed orientalist harem scenes and erotic portraits of carelessly nude seraglio girls adorned with exotic and priceless jewelry lounging on beds and couches, whose serene countenance and languorous, open poses made it clear they knew their bodies were objects of exquisite pleasure and beauty, reserved only for the most powerful of men to enjoy, but that they still welcomed the humble viewer's adoring, hungry, and forbidden gaze as a fulfillment of their very purpose for existence.

The museum made a lovely interlude during a warm day, and several fathers and their daughters meandered through the gallery, avidly conversing in low tones about the ways in which the artists and the girls in the paintings explored the essence of the erotic, and discussing how the daughters could apply that knowledge in their training after their Festivals; this exhibition was excellent lesson material for any young girl, and I made a note to bring the twins here next week.

Dave and I followed along behind her, discussing the atmosphere and emotional resonance of the pieces with Emily, who, despite her passion for the paintings, was by far the most compelling work of art in the place.

A placard explained the history of the odalisque, and how in the old, less civilized days, only certain young girls were selected to fulfill their natural purpose and be trained in the secret arts of pleasing men, and that they were considered highly-prized possessions.

Now, happily, in our more enlightened times, all girls received a thorough sexual education after their Festival, and were taught to be excellent envoys of their sex for the enjoyment of all eligible males; the old paintings were still excellent sources of inspiration and education for today's young girls, however, in their heritage of girlhood and their copulatory responsibilities. Emily giggled as she read a historical passage from the placard.

'"...If anyone possesses a pretty-looking slave, the fact soon gets known. The gentlemen who wish to buy an odalisque, make their offers. Many men, indeed, prefer to take a slave as a wife, as, in such case, there is no need to dread fathers, mothers, or brothers-in-law, and other undesirable relations..."'

She turned to us, her teasing eyes dancing.

'Mr. Kendrick, I could be your odalisque, and Mr. Stevenson's...would you buy me and make me your wife?'

I was amused as both Dave and I chuckled and raised our left hands in unison, displaying our gold wedding bands as her lower lip pouted playfully.

'I would absolutely buy you and make you my wife if I could, dear girl, but unfortunately I'm already taken, and I love Mrs. Kendrick very much, as you know. It is my pleasure, however, to have a hand in training and molding you to be the best little odalisque you can be for every man who chooses to enjoy your precious body.'

I shook my head as she blushed and laughed again and I watched her full, plump bottom tick-tock on her strappy white heels to the next picture, her toned back musculature rippling softly beneath her skin, and I remarked quietly to Dave how beautiful her body was from behind.

She turned a lovely shade of rose as she heard me, but like a well-mannered girl, she played as if she hadn't, studiously examining a splendid piece by François Boucher, bending low at the waist as she pretended to read the signature and playfully wagging her bottom at us, her full, glistening labia catching our eyes where they spilled delightfully from about her opening.

'I know, right?' Dave murmured, and I knew Emily could just pick up his voice as well. 'She's actually quite strong despite her small size—I've seen her do thirteen pull-ups in a row. So sexy. You should see her when she needs to be restrained during a training session, whether by hand or with ropes—she's so cute when she struggles and bucks.'

'She's such a sweetheart, too,' I mused. 'Clearly she's developing really under you. You should be proud—good job.''

Dave nodded and thanked me.

'She really is—she's naturally so eager to please and willing to work hard; there's not much more a mentor could ask for in a trainee.

'She had a lot of trouble in the beginning, right after her Festival, with accepting and embracing the fact that the pleasures of her body now belonged to any and every eligible male who took an interest in her. You know how girls can sometimes struggle with this at first; but it does seem to be the more intelligent ones like her that have the hardest time with it.

'She's come such a long way. Having an orgasm was initially impossible. She had trouble relaxing and giving herself over and trusting; it happens a lot more now, but she knows she'd be a lot more desirable if she were better at it. Especially with a quick session, or being fucked anywhere that isn't a bed, she still definitely struggles with it.

'And she still feels very self conscious when men lick her vulva, or even just want to look at it; she seems to be doing really well right now, but I won't be surprised if we still have to overcome some trepidation on her part when we take her to the hotel and it's time for you to enjoy her.'

I nodded understandingly; it was normal for new girls to feel protective of their genitals, and to balk when instructed to allow strange men to root pleasantly about in their tender girl-bits, but it was not something to be indulged, and should be dealt with immediately.

I knew that even if Emily had second thoughts about giving herself to me, Dave and I had sufficient skill and strength to ensure her misgivings didn't prevent us from fully enjoying her delightful little body to our hearts' content, as was only right and proper.

'She's so small,' I remarked quietly, recalling the considerable size of Dave's cock. 'Can she even take a full-size piece?'

Dave chuckled, and a rosy glow crept across Emily's body as she eavesdropped.

'She used to have considerable difficulty taking larger penises inside her, but we've been working on that, and she can take all of me now, though it's still a bit of a challenge at first—I'll be interested to see how she handles you, since you're even a little bigger than I am.

'I think it only helps that she really honestly loves cocks, and she loves the feeling of semen inside her or on her body—she adores the taste; so much so that I've actually seen her bring herself to orgasm without any vaginal contact, simply by holding fresh cum in her mouth. She's a little treasure, really.'