The Dissatisfied Wife Pt. 02

Some people commented that I left out most of the training I experienced in my story "The Dissatisfied Wife". So, in order to correct that omission, here is my description of what I went through during my six week training period with Dr. Pradle.

I remained secured across the sawhorse for about a half hour. My sobs of pain and humiliation gradually wound down, as did the burning pain in my ass from the whipping I'd received from Master. I felt the sperm of the two men who'd had me - my husband Bill's oozing from my pussy and Master's from my asshole - running down my inner thighs.

Master finally returned, fresh from his shower. "Let's get you loose from there," he said in a reassuring tone.

He knelt down, and I felt something around my neck. I heard a click as he locked a collar around my neck. He unclipped my wrists from the eyebolts at the bottom of the sawhorse, pulled them up and back, and clipped them together behind my back.

Master pulled me up and undid my ankles. I instinctively moved my feet closer together and stood naked, collared, hands secured behind my back.

He took a step back and I blushed bright red as he looked me up and down, much as a man might inspect a horse. "Yes, you are a beautiful young lady, and you will make a fine slavewife. I will help you become happy, happier than you've ever been."

My breath caught as I heard him refer to me as 'fine slavewife'. That's not what I wanted, what in the world was this man thinking!

Before I had a chance to protest he snapped a shiny chain leash to my collar. Turning, he said, "Come!" and began to walk away, pulling the leash and me along with it.

I didn't have any choice but to follow obediently. He led me down a hall into another room. The room was almost empty.

In the center of the room was a padded chair, cocked slightly back. Master indicated I was to sit. The chair seat was well padded and very comfortable. Other than a strange hole in the middle it felt more or less like any other chair.

Reaching behind me I heard a couple of clicks and felt the back of the seat being removed. Master moved it down and then up, this time with my arms behind it. He clipped it back in place.

Moving down, he attached Velcro cuffs to my thighs just above each of my knees. Using binders, he clipped them to rings set in the chair. My legs would be spread, not uncomfortably so, but a bit awkward. He clipped my ankle cuffs to rings so they were back.

I was held in a riding position. Master then undid the leash and replaced it with a similar one, except this one was attached to the wall in front of the chair.

When he'd finished, I was held in a riding position in the chair. I wasn't uncomfortable; I could move around a bit but not much. The leash on my collar kept me from leaning back while my arms behind the chair back kept me from leaning forward.

I saw him open a drawer in a small cabinet and remove something. Smiling, he showed me the object: a Hitachi vibrator. He threaded the power cord through the hole in the chair and seated the vibrator in the hole. Kneeling down, he hooked the vibrator plug to something under the front of the chair.

The bulb of the Hitachi rested on my pussy. I could move back slightly, but in any position it was touching me, I couldn't move so much as to eliminate all contact with it.

The only other thing in the room was a large television screen mounted on the wall in front of me. It was currently off.

"You will learn to enjoy this in time," he said, "although probably not at first. This is a classic brainwashing technique which I've found to be very effective with unruly females."

He walked to the door and smiled. "Enjoy yourself; I'll be back in a bit." With that, he flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness, left, and closed the door behind him.

The room was completely dark, no light at all. There was no sound other than my breathing. I was not uncomfortable; I could wiggle a bit even though I could not move much.

I wondered how long this would go on, when he would return. I had no sense of time; the darkness and lack of sound gave no clue about seconds, minutes, or hours.

Sensory deprivation. I'd read this was a brainwashing technique, which I was experiencing first hand.

I don't know how long I sat in total darkness, minutes, hours, maybe. Suddenly, the television came on filling the room with its light. An image of a naked woman, kneeling in front of a man, filled the screen.

The man was only visible from his chest down. As I watched, he grabbed the woman's hair and pulled her down onto his erection. She resisted a bit as he forced himself into her mouth, moaning as the man forced her back and forth on his erection.

Words came on across the screen. "Women exist to serve men", followed by "Women serve men's pleasure", "Your mouth is made to suck men", and similar misogynistic slogans.

At this point in my life, I'd never given a man a blowjob, never even taken a man's cock into my mouth. Bill begged for that all the time, but to me it was just so icky, right there where he peed! I just refused to do it.

But sometimes at night I would wonder what it would be like, what I would feel, what he would taste like in my mouth.

Still, fellatio was something I never imagined myself doing. Now I was being shown a woman doing that, complete with dancing slogans across the screen.

After a few minutes, the man moaned and pulled the woman's head hard against him. She made choking noises as he forced himself down her throat, ejaculating into her. In a few seconds, he released her; she choked as some of his cum drooled out of her mouth.

Now the message was, "Good girl! You want to be a good girl like her, don't you?"

The couple was replaced with a scene of a man and woman in what appeared to be a nightclub bathroom. Loud music boomed in the background as he pushed her to his knees. She unzipped his pants, pulled his cock out, and took him in her mouth.

Various scenes played out, all with the same theme: Women sucking men, men cumming in their mouths, the constant banners declaring this to be expected behavior by females.

This went on for a long time, an hour probably. In spite of my initial revulsion, I'd begun to accept the scenes of women giving men head, men forcing women to do it. I still didn't like it, but it seemed a little less unnatural.

Suddenly I jerked as the Hitachi came to life. The intense vibrations were directly on my clit, and I could wiggle around a little, but I couldn't escape them. I fought to remain in control, but there was no escaping the evil tool!

My first orgasm came in less than a minute, and was hard. All the frustration of being tied, whipped, fucked, and now forced to watch porn came out. My body jerked as I screamed and moaned.

Panting, I strained to move back from the vibrator as my orgasm ended. The last thing I wanted after that violent climax was more stimulation! I could almost make it, but the vib still touched my clit lightly, and the vibrations continued.

Soon I couldn't hold myself back, and I relaxed a bit, causing my hips to move forward slightly. I began to respond to the vibrations, and as yet another female took a load in her mouth, I came a second time, not quite as violently as the first.

This repeated itself, over and over. The Hitachi never tired or slowed down, and I was only human. My orgasms began to come closer together, and I began to lose focus until my world became one long continuous female orgasm.

I was dimly aware that someone had entered the room and was standing next to me as my body jerked and I panted. Felt him rub my head, holding my hair gently. He turned my head a bit toward him and put his rigid dick between my lips.

I obediently opened my mouth and took him in it. I didn't feel revulsion, excitement, or anything much at all; this just seemed uneventful, normal. It was Friday, the weather was hot, and I had a man's cock in my mouth.

He gently moved my head back and forth; I obediently licked and sucked him. He tasted nice, nothing I could identify, just manly. I remember thinking he wasn't pulling my hair hard like the men in the videos did, just guiding me.

He turned my head a bit back toward the screen on the wall, so I was looking at it a little sideways. Now there was a girl in a chair like mine, sucking a man's cock as he stood next to her. The girl looked so happy, and I realized I was happy too. I felt fulfilled, glad to be bringing a man pleasure.

I don't know when I realized that the image on the screen was from a camera in the room and the girl happily giving a man head was me. I later learned that Master was streaming the video to hundreds of men and women online. I didn't care; I was doing what I wanted to do.

He pulled my head back and forth faster, and suddenly I felt warmth in my mouth. Somewhere in the back of my consciousness, I realized he'd just filled my mouth with his ejaculation, but I didn't care. It was just another cock to suck, the same as women had sucked men's dicks for thousands of years. No big deal.

The camera zoomed in to show my face, smiling now, licking the last of his cum from my lips, body jerking in helpless orgasm as the Hitachi continued its assault on my vagina. Smiling, happy, at peace.

At some point, Master must have taken me off the chair and moved me to another room. I was having a strange dream; I was sucking and licking a man's dick as he pulled my head up and down, and he came in my mouth, and I smiled and was happy.

I woke, stretched, my muscles a little sore. Opening my eyes, I saw I was in a different room, this one with a bed - although I was not on the bed, I was on the floor beside it.

Looking down, I saw I was still naked. I tried to make sense of what had happened the night before, but I couldn't seem to concentrate. My brain was woozy from the multiple orgasms I'd had the night before. I remembered the dream, and wondered if it had really happened. Had I actually sucked a man's cock and smiled after he came in my mouth? Had it really been streamed to hundreds, maybe thousands, of people all over the world?

My leg caught on something as I moved. I saw that my ankle, thigh, and leg cuffs had been removed and in their place was a single silver metal cuff locked around my left ankle. It had a silver chain attached to it, the other end attached to the wall.

I felt my neck. The collar was still locked on.

Turning, I saw a button on the wall and a sign next to it that said, "Push for Service". Well, I could really use some service! I pushed the button several times.

The door opened, and Master entered. "Ah, good morning Bitch, I see you are ready for service."

Smiling, he walked over to me and dropped his pants. His erection was impressive, larger than an average man.

Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head toward his engorged cock. I instinctively raised my hands to push him off.

He shook his head and stepped back. "Still a lot to learn."

He walked to a dresser and pulled out a shiny object. He roughly pushed me sideways and pulled my hands behind my back. I felt cold metal and realized he'd handcuffed my arms behind my back.

"Now let's try that again," he said. He took my hair in his hand and again pulled me toward him. "Do not resist; this is happening. Fight it, and you will earn the riding crop."

Mention of the riding crop brought back the memory of the whipping I'd endured yesterday. "No... no please..." I stammered as he pulled my head down.

This time I didn't resist. I felt the head of his cock against my lips, tasted his pre-cum on them. I parted my lips and allowed him to put himself into my mouth. He began to pull my head down, forcing himself further in, then pulling back slowly.

I knew he would ejaculate in my mouth, and while I still didn't want that, I knew there was no use fighting it. I didn't want to anger him; I remembered the whip biting into my ass; and besides, I'd sucked this same dick the night before. On camera, no less!

I wanted him to hurry and finish, and so I began to lick and suck the head of his cock as he pulled in and out of my mouth. I started bobbing my head up and down to the rhythm he'd set up.

After a few minutes, I could tell he was close. I can't explain it; he just felt and tasted different. I sped up my bobbing, short strokes, as I licked the head of his cock. I was soon rewarded; he groaned and spurted a huge load inside my mouth. He pulled my head down so I had no choice but to swallow his ejaculation.

Finally, his hips jerked, and he gave one final spurt and was finished. He held my head for a while as I felt him soften in my mouth.

Finished, he pulled himself out. "Not bad for a beginner," he said. "We'll continue to work on that. In case you haven't figured it out, 'Push for Service' means you are ready to service a man. Usually me, sometimes others."

I shivered as I heard him say "sometimes others." I knew the contract specified I may be used by other people. I wondered who and how many others would use me.

When Bill and I had first visited Master, he'd written me a prescription - Dr Praddle was a real MD. "Some hormones," he explained. "Estrogen and progesterone. She should begin taking them as soon as possible; they won't hurt her, only amp up her sex drive a bit."

Well, the little pills certainly amped things up! I took one each morning, and after a couple of days I began to dream about sex, even daydream about sex. Master took the pill bottle from his pants pocket and gave me one. I swallowed it obediently.

He would give me one pill every morning, always after my service.

During my first week of training, I became acclimated to the daily rhythm. Sleep on the floor, wake up, push the button, suck Master off. Then breakfast - HIS breakfast; I ate no breakfast. I knelt in Nadu position next to his chair as he ate.

Master allowed me a glass of milk at breakfast, and all the water I wanted during the day. This was difficult for me because I was used to coffee in the morning and a couple more cups during the day. Master explained that I had to "stop poisoning my body".

After breakfast came instruction. The first two weeks were devoted to learning the various slave poses. For the first three sessions, Master put them up on the large TV along the wall.

Each position had a number and a name, and an accompanying picture of a girl in that position. At first, we did them in order, 1, 2, 3. During each practice, Master held a riding crop and some chicken nuggets or popcorn in the other hand. When I did a position correctly, he would reward me with a nugget, and if I messed up on one, he'd slap my ass with the crop.

He hit my ass hard enough that it stung a bit, but not too hard. He had instilled a fear of the whip in me at the beginning of my first day, and he knew that didn't need to hurt me excessively again. The crop was for correcting mistakes and encouraging a good performance.

Training sessions usually lasted about an hour. After a session ended, it was time to be used. Sometimes this would be on the floor; other times I would be led by a leash into the bedroom, and he would take me on the bed.

Master was an amazing man. I guessed him to be about fifty-five years old, but he had the stamina of an eighteen-year-old. We had sex four or five times a day; he never seemed to tire of it.

After sex, he would lead me to the darkened room and put me back on the chair, secure my ankles and legs, and leave. The videos changed somewhat, but the room would always be dark for a half hour or so, then the TV would come on followed by the Hitachi.

I came more than I thought humanly possible! By Thursday, I would often cum before the vibrator even came on, just watching images of women in all sorts of humiliating, degrading positions and doing all sorts of sex acts. Although the specifics changed, the theme was always the same: Women are inferior, women serve men, women are submissive.

Sometimes Master would enter the room and pull my head onto his cock, and I would suck him until he came in my mouth. I can barely remember this happening; I was always engrossed in the porn and woozy from multiple orgasms.

After an hour of almost constant orgasm, he would come and turn everything off and get me off of the chair. I was never able to walk; he would carry me into my room and attach the chain to my ankle. He allowed me to sleep for a couple of hours.

In the evening, Master would fetch me for dinner, again kneeling beside his chair. Occasionally he would feed me a bite of food. After dinner it was time for sex again, then back on the chair and another brainwashing session. When that was over, he would carry me to my room, chain my ankle to the wall again, and I would sleep.

From time to time I would wonder why I was accepting this treatment. I knew I could leave at any time. Sometimes at night I'd resolve to leave the next morning, tell Master I'd had enough. Then I'd wake up and stretch, and he wouldn't be here. I'd push the button and ring the bell, and he'd come in naked with a huge erection. And without even thinking about what I was doing, I'd open up and take him in my mouth and lick and suck him until he came, and I'd swallow it without thinking about that either.

Then he'd unlock me, and I'd shower, and again I'd think that I'd tell him, and I'd go into the kitchen, and he'd be there eating breakfast, and he'd ignore me, and I'd just kneel beside him, head down. And the whole time I was there, I'd think, I'm gonna tell him; I will! But I didn't, and then it was training time, and I was hungry, and I wanted to show him how good I'd gotten with the poses, and besides, I needed some treats; I was really hungry.

Then before I knew it it was time for sex, and he was inside me, pumping me hard and it felt so good I just couldn't do anything but moan, and he was so good I'd just cum and cum and cum and finally I'd feel him get all stiff and moan and he'd fill me with his hot cum, and I'd be so proud that I'd made him do that.

Then in the brainwashing room, I couldn't think of anything much. Watching BDSM porn and being forced to climax over and over really blanked out my mind, and I couldn't think of anything; I even had trouble remembering my name. And Master would come in and put his cock in my mouth, and I'd suck him, and that just felt natural, ordinary.

And so my days slipped away, and even though I thought about leaving, I just never got around to telling Master that I wanted to leave.

Friday of the first week, the end of my first week, Master announced at breakfast, "Today you will get a special treat." He didn't explain further, and I knew not to ask, but I worked extra hard on my poses. I'm pretty smart; normally, I could have learned them all in a day or two tops, but having several dozen orgasms every day tends to mess with the female brain. I tried my best, but it was difficult to concentrate.

After poses, Master led me into the bedroom. Not the room where he slept, a separate room he called the 'fuck room'. A small double bed, a couple of chairs, and a nightstand.

As I walked in on my leash, I saw a shiny object on the bed. "A spreader bar," Master informed me. "You are just gonna love it, but whether or not you do, I know I will!"

He indicated I was to climb up onto the bed. "Lie down on your stomach," he commanded.

I did as he ordered, I felt something cool as he attached a cuff of some kind to my left ankle. He pulled my legs wide apart and cuffed my right ankle. Reaching under me, he pulled my wrists together, then pulled them back and cuffed them together around the center of the bar. I was forced to slide back so my ass was high off the mattress, and I was on my knees, my face down on the bed.

In this position, I was totally helpless. My legs were spread obscenely wide, exposing my pussy and ass. I began to shake as I realized he could do anything he wanted with my helpless body, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Master patted my ass, then turned and left, closing the door behind him as I lay helpless on the bed. I began to imagine all sorts of things: was I going to be whipped, ass fucked, what would he do, could I take it?

He left me alone for a few minutes, a half hour or so, I think, then came back. "Ah, what a tempting little piece of ass!" I jerked as he ran his hand across my pussy. "And so very wet, you really want your fucking don't you, little Bitch?"

I gave a yip as he slapped my ass. "I SAID, you want your fucking don't you?"

"Y.. yes, Master," I stammered. "Yes, I want it. Please fuck me." I knew this was a forced response, and yet it was totally true; I DID want him to take me, to fuck my helpless pussy!

I felt his hands on my ass, steadying me. I moaned as he put the tip of his cock against my sopping wet pussy, squirming, trying to take him into me.

I moaned louder as I felt him ease himself inside my body. He was larger than average, but I was so wet and turned on that he felt just right. He pushed slowly in until I felt his balls against me. He hesitated a few seconds, then slowly withdrew.

In and out slowly as I moaned and enjoyed the rhythm he was setting up. He reached under my stomach and flicked my clit; I responded by immediately cumming, a long, moaning, jerking climax. He held himself totally inside me as I thrashed and moaned in a helpless female orgasm.

Finally, it ended, and he let me rest for a few seconds, panting and sweating. Then he again began his slow in-and-out movement. It felt so good, incredible to have this man doing this, using my body to please himself! From time to time he'd rub my clit and each time I had a violent orgasm, panting and shaking.

He continued to fuck me for a long time, longer than I'd ever had a man do this. I came obediently each time he touched my clit. After a while, I became an animal in heat, thinking of nothing other than the male cock inside me and the man who was driving me wild!

Finally, his thrusts became shorter and faster, and I knew he was about to finish. I thrashed against him, squeezing and releasing him with my muscles as he'd taught me. I wanted it, I wanted his cum deep inside me! I wanted him to put a baby in me, to impregnate me!

He moaned and pulled my hips back hard, pushing in a final millimeter. I felt him begin to cum, to pump it deep into my grateful pussy. I came one more time, totally in sync with him now.

He remained inside me as we panted in time with each other. I felt him begin to go soft, and he finally pulled out as I panted and sweated.

He patted my ass. "Good girl, you are learning well," he told me. "So well that I've decided to reward you. I have a friend coming over to see how good you've become."

I felt sudden panic as his words sank in. I was tied to the spreader bar with his cum oozing out of my pussy, completely helpless, unable to prevent any other man from using me!

"Noooo... please, no!" I begged, but he just smiled and said, "It's fine, don't worry, you'll be fine, just remember to thank the man for fucking you when he finishes."

He left as I shivered and cried. A few minutes later he returned. As I lay face down on the mattress, I strained to turn my head as far backward as possible. I saw another man enter the room behind Master.

"Meet my friend Chet," Master introduced him. "He's gonna be fucking you today."

I moaned as I heard this, fucking me, like I was some kind of prostitute! In fact, I didn't know whether this man had paid for the privilege of sinking his cock inside me, or if this was a freebie.

He stood at the foot of the bed; now I could see him clearly. He wore a COVID mask, but I could see his full beard, brown eyes, and unruly hair. Not too long; he just looked like he needed a haircut. His body was toned, strong. He was a large man, over six feet tall, I guessed, and probably around two hundred pounds.

He removed his shirt, exposing a nicely muscled chest and stomach. He quickly stepped out of his pants and underwear, and I gasped in shock as I saw his cock. It was huge, larger than I thought possible, ten inches at least and very big around. I began shivering again; there was no way I could possibly take that large thing inside my body!

"Noooo... noooo please noooo!" I moaned. Master patted my ass.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," he reassured me. "This WILL change you, though; you won't be the same after this."

Turning to Chet, he said, "Go ahead, rearrange her guts."

I thought that was a strange thing to say; what was he gonna rearrange? I was about to find out as Chet smiled and stepped behind me. I felt his hand on my ass and the tip of his huge member rubbing up and down on my slit.

Thankfully, I still had Master's cum oozing out of me. It turns out that male ejaculate is a very good lubricant. I was gonna need a lot of lubricant in order to take Chet's massive cock.

As Chet slowly began to push himself into my pussy I moaned and tried to pull away. This was, of course, futile; I was secured and couldn't escape what was about to happen. I felt myself open, stretched beyond what I thought possible as he worked up and down, pushing the tip of his dick into my tiny opening.

I moaned louder as I felt him work himself into me. I was stretched, opened beyond belief! It began to hurt as he began to enter my vagina.

"That's it, girl, take that cock," Chet urged me as I moaned. "You can do it, take it; that's a good girl."

Finally he had about an inch of himself inside me. He began rocking, little short thrusts which gradually eased him into me. He grunted with each little thrust; I began to grunt in response, and we went on, grunt-grunt-grunt as he slowly pushed himself into me.

It took a while, five minutes I think, but then he slowly began to pull out. I thought he'd buried all of his magnificent cock into my pussy, but as I looked back I could see that he was only about halfway in! How was I ever gonna take all of him, I wondered!

Now he began to slowly push back in. This time it went a little better; he had stretched me enough to somewhat accommodate him. Then he began to do the little quick thrusts, grunting with each as I grunted in time with him. He continued to urge me to take it, take his cock. It was uncomfortable, but the pain was almost gone. Finally, I looked back and saw he was all the way inside me.

I began to pant; his huge cock was now feeling really good inside me! I experimented with a small wiggle; it felt ok and didn't hurt so I did another.

"Good girl, you like that big dick, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes... yes, yes..." I moaned. "Fuck me with it, fuck me!"

He slapped my ass playfully, and I had an orgasm, moaning and thrashing on the massive cock inside me. He began to pull out and back in, still slowly, as I lay panting, begging him to fuck me harder, to split me in two!

I came twice more as he gradually increased his pace until he was thrusting hard against my ass. Finally he groaned and pushed all the way in, and I felt him cuming inside me. This went on for a while; apparently, a large ejaculation went with a large cock. I felt it ooze out while he was still inside me, pumping a gallon of his sperm into my body.

Finally he was done. He pulled out as I panted and sweated.

"Good girl," Master said. "Isn't there something you want to tell Chet?"

I was confused for a minute, then I remembered. "Thank you, Sir, for fucking me. Thank you!"

Chet chuckled as he dressed and left. Still secured to the spreader, I felt his cum gush out of my pussy and run down my thigh.

Master left me like that for a few minutes, then returned and undid me. He told me to clean up. I showered for a long time, Chat's cum still oozing out of my pussy for several minutes.

Master was right; being fucked by a man with a massive penis changed me. My brain was swimming around, trying to make sense of what I'd just been through.

At dinner, I knelt obediently beside Master as he fed me by hand. Then it was time for the brainwashing room. This time the videos were of women being fucked by men with enormous cocks. For the first time, I came before the vibrator was turned on.

Then it came on, and my mind went blank as I was pushed into a state of perpetual orgasm.

On Sunday at the beginning of the fourth week, Master told me at breakfast that he was having some friends over to watch football and that I was expected to serve them beer and snacks. He laid out an outfit for me, a tight sleeveless T-shirt and shiny shorts that barely covered my ass.

No panties. I should explain this. The constant stimulation from the vibrator combined with the progesterone pills I'd been taking had made my clitoris become swollen and very sensitive. Whenever my pussy was even partially open - which was all the time - it protruded like a tiny cock. Wearing panties or anything that rubbed against it when I walked became almost unbearable.

When I wore panties and walked, my clit would rub on them, and I would cum every few steps. Of course, that made walking almost impossible, and so I begged Master to allow me to go panty-less on the rare occasions he had me wear clothes.

Master allowed this, but he said I would be trained to control my orgasms during the week coming up.

So I wore my little slutty looking outfit as the men arrived. Four in all, they sat on the couch, and one sat on a chair. I'd prepared crackers with cheese, nachos, and chips, which I served the men along with beer.

Master introduced me to the men as "Bitch", which was the name he'd chosen for me while I was in training. They leered at me; my nipples were hard and showed through the skimpy shirt. It was turning me on; I could tell they each wanted to fuck me.

Finally, halftime came. "Now the halftime entertainment," Master announced. "Bitch, stand right here and take off your shirt."

I was embarrassed, but I knew I'd get the riding crop if I refused. Blushing, I pulled the shirt over my head. The men all stared at my tits as I blushed and my nipples got hard.

"Nice isn't she?" Master asked the men. "And she is skilled too. Bitch, go give Sam a blowjob."

He waved to the first man on the couch. I went over and knelt, unzipping his pants. His cock popped out; he was rigid, throbbing as I took him into my mouth. As I sucked and licked, I saw his eyes close, and his head move back as he enjoyed the feeling of being in a girl's mouth.

Of course it didn't take long before the inevitable happened. I felt a sudden rush of warmth as he came, moaning and jerking.

Master laughed. "Well, that didn't take long. That's one down and three to go, gentlemen if you could hold out a little longer, I'm sure that Bitch would enjoy having your cocks in her pussy."

I moved to the next man on the couch, unzipped him, and began to suck and lick his cock. I could tell he was enjoying it, but after a couple of minutes, he pulled my head back. "Turn around," he ordered me in a gruff voice.

I stood and turned, and he pulled my shorts down. I barely had time to step out of them before he was pulling me down, guiding his cock to my pussy. Thankfully he wasn't too large; he pulled me down and plunged all the way in.

His hands found my tits; he massaged them as I sat in his lap and rocked on his rigid dick. He felt so good; I was moaning and thrashing on him.

"Tell her to cum, see what happens," Master told him.

"All right Bitch... cum for me!" the man said, and my pussy obediently began to spasm as I was engulfed in the throes of orgasm.

As I moaned I felt him go stiff as he emptied himself into my hungry pussy. I was panting now, as I felt a hand grab my hair.

The third man on the couch pulled me off and onto the floor. He already had his cock out, and he forced my head down onto it, pulling me down then up as he fucked my mouth.

I felt hands on my hips, and I was pulled up onto my feet, my head still held down by the third man. I felt a man kick my feet apart, then he was inside me, taking me from behind.

I later learned that this was called 'spit roasting', taking one man in my pussy and another in my mouth at the same time. Whatever it was called, I was loving the hell out of it! In a few minutes the first guy pulled my head down hard, and I choked as he thrust himself deep into my throat, spurting his semen directly into my stomach.

This must have made my pussy tighten because I felt the man behind me spurting his own orgasm deep inside my body.

We stayed like that for a few seconds, then the man holding my hair released me, and I pulled back, gasping for air. This made the other man fall out of my pussy.

"Well, a good halftime show, don't you think, guys?" Master asked. Turning to me, he said, "Is there anything you'd like to say to these gentlemen?"

I smiled. "Thank you, gentlemen, for fucking me and allowing me to suck you."

After three weeks of daily training I'd finally gotten all the poses down. Master would check this; from time to time he'd say, "Number twelve," and I'd get into the number twelve pose. The rule was I had five seconds; if I took longer than that, I'd get one swat on my ass with the riding crop for every second past five that I needed, or ten if I didn't remember it at all.

I got so good that Master would try to trip me up by yelling "Number five!" when I'd just gotten out of the shower or while I was walking back and forth. I didn't often get swats.

He also assigned me some housework; during the times I was doing housework, I was allowed off of my leash, although the collar remained on. Simple things: washing, folding clothes, vacuuming.

The Monday after the football party he introduced me to a new task. He produced a dress and had me put it on. It was a black jersey, soft, sleeveless. It zipped up in the front all the way from bottom to top. When fully zipped, it came up to my chin, and the skirt was ankle-length on me.

So I would put it on, and he'd yell, "Down!" and I then had five seconds to unzip and discard the dress, get on my knees in a "submissive" pose - arms out in front of me, wrists together, face on the floor, ass high, legs spread. Any time longer than five seconds would earn me swats.

Once in this position, I had to remain silent and motionless, holding the pose until Master released me. Sometimes he would release me in a few seconds, but occasionally he would leave me face down, ass up for hours. He would ignore me as though I was a piece of furniture.

Sometimes he would take me while I was like this, pumping my pussy. When he was inside me, the rule about silence was waived; I was not allowed to speak, but grunts and moans were allowed.

I was becoming very compliant. From time to time Master would pat my ass and say, "Good girl." When he did this, I would feel a rush of pride because I'd pleased him.

I still had the brainwashing sessions every evening. My clit continued to swell; it was almost impossible for me to walk wearing panties. This is when Master decided that I needed to learn to control my orgasms.

"Female orgasms are wonderful for both male and female," he explained. Men will go to great lengths to make girls reach climax. You should be proud that you are now able to cum so easily." He paused for a minute, then continued, "However, you must learn to control your orgasms, to the extent that you do not orgasm unless a man allows it, and that you cum immediately when he tells you to do that."

So he began to take me places outside of the house. He would have me dress like a slut, tight shorts and a top, no bra, stiletto heels. Other times, very short skirts, revealing tops with no bra or cami. He always made me wear panties, which had the effect of keeping me on edge, constantly ready to cum.

At first, I could barely make it to the car; I'd be jerking and grunting. Then Master would drive me to some restaurant, and I'd have to stop every few steps. "Concentrate!" he'd tell me, and I really tried hard to concentrate, not to cum.

Finally, I was able to make it from the car to the restaurant without embarrassing myself. Master seemed pleased; he decided to take me dancing that night.

He had me put on the black dress, unzipped enough to show some boob. Panties, heels, no bra. We went to a local "meat market" where single girls hung out to get picked up by horny men.

We sat at the bar. He bought me a flowery drink and half turned away. "Pretend you don't know me", he said.

Soon men began to notice me. One guy asked me to dance; a slow song was playing. I knew what was going to happen, but I didn't want to disobey Master, and so I let him lead me onto the dance floor.

He held me tightly as the music played a slow ballad about a lost love. I felt him through his pants; he was hard. As he held me, it only took a few seconds, then BAM, I went. I tried not to moan too much; I just leaned on him as I went semi-limp.

He held me up and smiled. "That was nice," he said. "Glad you're enjoying yourself."

I blushed and looked down as he pulled me to him again. Again I felt his erection through his pants; again my panties rubbed against my clit and in a minute BAM I came again, hips humping against him as he smiled.

When the dance ended, he whispered in my ear, "I think you need my help." I didn't resist as he took my hand and led me out of the bar, across the parking lot to his truck. He clicked the remote, opened the back door, and lifted me inside.

Once in his truck, he kissed me hard and began to run his hand down my dress, cupping my left breast. I moaned as he massaged my hard nipple. He found the zipper and pulled it down enough so my breasts were exposed.

I moaned and kissed him back, hard. "Fuck me," I said, and he responded by unzipping my dress all the way. Then his hand was on my panties, and I came again as he pulled them down. Then he was on top of me, one hand holding my wrists together over my head as he guided himself into my sopping pussy.

As I felt him enter me, I moaned and came again. This excited him; he thrust all the way in hard. Then he began thrusting in and out, fast and hard, as I came again and again, helpless as he used my pussy.

Finally he went stiff, and I felt him empty himself inside me. I groaned and came one last time. He lay on top of me, slowly softening, then pulled out and sat up.

"That was nice," he said. "You were really horny."

I didn't tell him that thanks to Master's training I was really horny 24/7. Better to leave him with the illusion that he'd woken something in me.

"Thank you for fucking me," I told him. "I guess I really needed it."

I found my panties and slid back into them. Zipped the dress, and I was ready to go. I hadn't removed my shoes while he was using me. He got out of the truck and helped me down, escorted me back to the club like a gentleman. I could feel his cum oozing out into my panties, which helped cut down the friction somewhat, and so I made it back in without humiliating myself more than I already had.

I sat back down on the barstool. "Have fun?" Master asked, smiling. I nodded, afraid to speak, afraid I'd cry. Yes, it was good, very, very good! I was enjoying being a tramp, a slut, a whore. I wondered if this had always been what I was and the training was just awakening this part of myself.

We drove home. I thought there'd not be brainwashing tonight, but I was wrong. I came over and over to women being used by men, fucked hard by them.

Finally, the sixth week arrived, and my husband Jim was coming to see how my training was going. Monday evening at seven, there was a knock on the door. I hurried over to answer it.

Jim's eyes went wide as I opened the door. I was wearing a short white half slip and nothing else. I looked down quickly and motioned him to enter.

"Come in, come in!" Master called from the living room. "Come in, have a seat, let me show you the excellent progress we've made."

As Jim walked over to the couch and sat, I hurried off to get coffee. I set the tray down carefully and poured each man a cup, then retreated to the wall where I knelt in nadu pose, on my knees, sitting on my heels, legs spread, hands on my thighs palm up. I kept my eyes down as I'd been taught and was silent as the men talked.

"Wow," Jim said as he looked at me. "I can't believe that's the same girl I left with you."

Master smiled. "Yes, she's learned her poses well; we will see in a few minutes."

"Does she talk?"

"She will speak when spoken to; otherwise, she knows to be silent," Master informed him. As the man continued to talk about me as though I was just a piece of furniture, I began to blush. I also felt a familiar stirring and realized I was getting excited.

After a few minutes, Master called me over. "Come here Bitch, show your husband the way you've been shown to greet a man."

I hustled over and knelt at Bill's feet. "May I suck and lick your cock, please? I asked him.

Somewhat startled, Bill nodded. I unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. Not as large as Master's, but impressive anyway. He was hard, and as I took him into my mouth, I heard him sigh. He put one hand on the side of my head as I bobbed up and down, sucking and licking his manhood.

After a few minutes, Bill moaned and I felt him cum in my mouth. I swallowed it, then pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "Thank you, Sir, I am happy that I pleased you," I told my husband. Then I returned to my place against the wall.

"So you see," Master told Bill, "she has been trained to please men, all men, any man, orally or with her pussy. She can cum on command, and will normally reach orgasm in only a few seconds. She will continue to climax during the entire sexual use, regardless of how long it lasts."

Master looked over at me. "Bitch, here!" he said sharply. I walked over and knelt before Master.

He smiled at Bill. "Watch this," he told him.

"Bitch!" he exclaimed. "Show your husband what a slut you've become. Shine my shoe. No cumming without permission!"

Master had his legs crossed, one foot dangling. I quickly turned and straddled that shoe, and began humping it.

"You will notice my shoe gets slimy from her discharge," Master said as I humped his shoe. "It is an excellent shoe polish."

Well, I was ready to cum from the beginning, but I knew Master wanted me to hold out as long as I could, and so, as my husband watched in amazement, I rolled my hips and panted, eyes half closed, humping Master's shoe.

Master was correct; in a couple of minutes, his shoe was covered in my girl slime. I was fast losing control; it took every ounce of concentration that I could manage to keep from cumming. I began to beg, "Please, Master, I can't hold out much longer, please let me cum!"

He smiled and nodded to Bill. "What do you think, let the cunt cum or make her suffer?"

Bill smiled. "Suffer!"

"You heard him Bitch, no cumming!" Now I began begging Bill, "Please, oh please, Master Bill, please don't make me suffer, please let me cum!"

"I know," Master told Bill, "Let's make her earn it." He looked down at me, now nearly frantic. "If you want to cum Bitch, you have to earn it. You've gotten your girl slime all over my shoe; I'll let you cum if you agree to lick it all off."

"Yes, yes, yes, thank you, Master, I will lick your shoe clean!"

"Very well then, you may cum."

And I did cum immediately, a hard orgasm, moaning and jerking. When I'd finished, I was panting. I scooted back a bit, bent down, and began to lick Master's shoe, tasting myself on it. I licked it until Master told me to stop and return to my seat at the wall.

The last week of training was for training Bill also. My routine remained the same, except when my husband was present, I served him also. He arrived each morning on his way to work and after work in the evenings.

My morning service now included Bill. He would sometimes watch as I sucked Master, nodding as I swallowed his ejaculation before grabbing my hair and pulling me down onto his own erect dick. Bill became a little rough with this; I realized that he had some pent-up anger toward me and my previous behavior. He worked this anger out with the morning BJ.

Master instructed Bill on using the riding crop. "Not too hard," Master would tell Bill. "Enough so she feels it, she will let out a little yip, but not so hard as to break her skin." He emphasized that the riding crop was to be used only to correct errors or behavior.

"Harsher punishments are usually not needed," Master told Bill. "We will have a demonstration later. She must be made to fear the whip. She does fear it with me, for you, you will have to instill that fear yourself."

I shivered as I heard this, knowing a painful whipping was in my future. The men talked as though I wasn't even there! It was humiliating, humbling. I was not allowed to speak. If I did, I quickly earned a slap from the ever-present riding crop.

Bill didn't seem to mind sharing me with Master. "Plenty pussy to go around," he once laughed. Each man would fuck me every evening and afternoon, sometimes tied in the spreader, other times bent over the couch or on the fuck bed.

The brainwashing sessions continued. In one session, I heard Master explaining this to Bill as the Hitachi ripped one orgasm after the other from my body. Master made some recommendations, said these sessions should be continued because they tended to empty the female brain, making me compliant. I remember registering these words without really understanding their meaning.

"Your best bet is to buy a Sybian," I dimly heard Master advising Bill. "A couple thousand bucks, but you can strap her to it and take her to orgasm overload in ten minutes. A Hitachi belt is good also, although not as effective. In either case, be certain to restrain her securely."

The week passed rapidly. Bill seemed pleased with my semi-mindless state.

Saturday would be my last day of training. Bill agreed to arrive early and take me home when the day's session ended. It began as usual, two loads down my throat, pills, shower, toilet. Master had put out the short half-slip I'd worn before. I slipped it on and came into the living room, kneeling against the wall.

Bill was sitting on the couch, Master in the armchair. Master handed Bill a thick binder. "Logs of daily activity. Acts performed, purpose, Bitch's reaction, my comments. I logged every interaction with her for the last six weeks.

I remained silent but my mind was racing - at least as much as it could race in my orgasm induced fog. I hadn't realized that Master would write everything down!

But there was more. "I've also made videos of every interaction," Master said. "Quite long and mostly boring, but I've chosen a few highlights to show you."

He picked up a remote, and the TV came alive. There I was spread across the sawhorse, the first day. I saw Bill mount me from behind, heard my pleas and screams as Master whipped me with the riding crop. I heard myself beg, saw Master put the ball gag in.

I saw Bill mount me; I sobbed, heard his moans as he sank his cock into my pussy and fucked me. I saw him jerk and cum, saw him pull out as his ejaculation began to ooze out of my pussy. I saw him leave, heard myself beg and cry as Master gave me my first ass-fucking.

"She still resists anal," he told Bill. "I don't have enough time to make that totally accepted. You should do her anally about once a week until she adjusts to it."

I saw myself in the brainwashing chair, saw Master turn my head and put his cock in my mouth. I saw the empty look in my eyes as I came over and over, automatically sucking him to completion.

I saw my morning routine, at first tentative, later enthusiastic. I saw myself taking Chet with the giant cock, sucking and fucking four men at halftime in the football party. Master had even recorded me at the club, zooming in with his cell as I was helped into the back seat of the truck.

I saw myself with the girl from the tack store, saw myself moaning as I licked her, climaxing over and over as she found my clit.

It took over an hour. By the end, I was panting, blushing, ashamed of my behavior. Bill sat quietly.

Master stood up. "Bitch!" he exclaimed. "To the sawhorse."

I shook visibly as I hurried to comply; I knew what was about to happen. As he'd done the first day, Master secured my wrists and ankles so I was bent over the board, legs spread.

I strained to turn my head back. I saw Master hand Bill the riding crop. "Make her fear it," he said.

And Bill did just that.