Louise's Training Ch. 04

Literotic asexstories – Louise's Training Ch. 04 by laver1812,laver1812
I woke up to find the young woman wrapped in arms, still asleep, with her head nestled against my breast. I lay there gently stroking her hair and thinking about the weekend so far. Since my lover Emma and my husband had dropped me off on Friday, I had been brutally gang banged that evening, before being given to a disgusting fat slob, forced to sleep with him and made available for him throughout the night. Saturday had brought fresh deprivation, ending with repeated fucking while I was helpless and unable to move with the ropes that held me spreadeagled in a door way. The same woman who now lay in my arms had roughly fucked me with dildos and a butt plug while I was tied to a bed, and the trainer had subjected me to his massive cock, far bigger than I had ever taken before.

I had willingly submitted to all this, despite the pain and humiliation, and never used the safe word that I had been provided with. The training had had an effect, as I had found myself willing surrendering to all the abuse that had been heaped on me, standing docile and deferential before my abusers.

This was the final day. I knew that Emma and my husband would return to collect me later in the afternoon, and I wondered what the remaining hours would bring. I would have loved to have spent them lying in bed with this lovely woman, but I suspected that the trainer had other plans for me. While I lay there, feeling her soft warm body wrapped in my arms, I wondered what Emma and my husband were up too. I had no doubt that they would also be in bed together. Emma was going to stay for the weekend while I was being trained, and I knew that she would not be able to keep out of his bed. Although she preferred women, she was also happy to be fucked by a man from time to time, and I knew that my husband would not pass up the opportunity if it was presented. It was hard to feel jealous though, given the almost constant sex that I had enjoyed since I had been left here.

The woman stirred in my arms, and looked up at me dreamily, lifting her head to kiss me gently on the lips. Her hand slipped between my legs, and I felt a finger slide inside me. Her tongue flickered in my open mouth and I started to return it, sliding my hands over her and exploring her body. Although she had been a constant presence during the weekend, I had never seen her naked up to now, and I realised how similar she was to Emma, the same slight form, the small but perfectly rounded breasts and lovely silky short hair.

Her hand started to slip in and out of me as we kissed and stroked, and her thumb found my clit, with the expertise that only another woman can have. I started to lose myself, imagining Emma making love to me, as I slipped my own hand down and into the woman. We were frantically fucking each other with our hands now, pushing several fingers at a time in and out, panting in each others arms. My hand was soaked as she came, seconds before I reached my own orgasm, clamping her hand tight between my legs as it washed over me.

We lay next to each other, both of us panting slightly. She smiled at me, and stroked my face.

“That was lovely. I’m afraid it will be back to training now, but I’m glad we had this time together.”

She left me in bed as she dressed and went back down stairs. I stayed there wondering what was going to happen next. I had been fucked so much since I arrived that I was quite sore, and I was glad she had only used her fingers on me. Although I had resolved not to use the safe word, I was dreading being subjected to more abuse.

I jumped as the trainer strode into the room, and when he clicked his fingers, sprung out of bed and assumed the position in front of him, hands behind my back, legs slightly spread, and my head downcast.

“This is your last day, slut. Overall you have done quite well, but its not a 100% success I’m afraid. My assistant will be up in a moment to take you for your final session, so take this opportunity to shower and make yourself ready. You have ten minutes.”

As he left the room, I hurried into the en-quite to shower, and use the bathroom. I had just finished and was back in the room when the young woman came in, carrying some clothes, which she flung on the bed, and then told me to put them on.

I realised that this was what I had been wearing when I arrived. At Emma’s instruction, I had worn a knee length skirt, a white blouse, and plain underwear., and this was all laid out for me now. I slipped on the white panties, and did up the bra. It was strange to be wearing normal underwear after a weekend of almost total nakedness, and when I had put on the skirt and blouse, I looked like any suburban woman, ready to go to work.

I was led downstairs into the sitting room, where the master was waiting, sitting in one of the chairs. There as a strange contraption in the centre, which looked like a workman’s trestle, but with the top bar padded in leather. She positioned me in front of it, and I assumed the position as the trainer looked at us.

“Once aspect of your training that we have not discussed is clothing. What you are wearing now is totally unsuitable. The rules are quite simple. Take off that skirt and blouse!”

Of course, no one had told me what the rules were, so it was inevitable that what I had arrived in was wrong. I suspected that Emma knew this, and had deliberately sent me in unsuitable clothing. I slipped off the skirt and blouse, handing them to the woman who was standing with her arm out.

“Sluts never wear a bra!”

The young woman produce a pair of scissors, and stepped forward to snip my bra in two at the front, the cups falling free to expose my breast. Two more cuts severed the straps, and she pulled the ruined bra off and threw it on the floor.

“Panties, when permitted, must be thongs. The strap must be as thin as possible, and should always disappear between your buttocks.”

She produced the scissors again, and cut through both sides of my panties, pulling the cotton from between my legs, and discarding it on the floor. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a scrap of material, which she threw at my feet. The trainer motioned with his hand and I bent to pick it up. It was a tiny thong, nothing more than a small triangle of black cotton, with strings leading off. I pulled it up my legs. The triangle hugged my slit, and the thin string disappeared between my buttocks, to meet the matching waist strap at the back. I may as well have been naked, for all the good it did, and realised that I would be available for anyone wearing it, as the slightest tug would reveal which ever of my holes they wanted to use.

My blouse was handing to me and I put it on, doing up the buttons, before resuming my position. The trainer shook his head.

“Sluts do not cover them selves up, they make sure everything is on show.”

He motioned to the woman who came over and snipped the top two buttons off my blouse, exposing my cleavage, before looking back at the trainer. He shook his head and held up a finger, so she snipped a third button. The blouse now gaped dangerously. Any one looking could see the side of my breasts and my aureole were barely covered, the slightest movement would reveal them and my hardening nipples underneath. He nodded his approval this time, and then waved his hand for her to continue.

Standing in front of me, she grasped the hem of my blouse, and then with the scissors hacked away the bottom six inches. It now fell to just below my breasts, my stomach and navel exposed. He nodded his approval, commenting, “There should always be at least a hand span between the bottom of your top and what ever you are wearing on the bottom. Speaking of which..:

The woman handed me my skirt, and after I had put it on, attacked the hem with her scissors. After she had finished, it barely came half way down my upper thigh. At least it covered my buttocks and was large then the ultra mini skirt that I had been forced to wear the night before but that was little more than a wide belt. My skirt was now so short to be just about acceptable in public, but I would have to very careful as I walked, and sitting down would risk exposing me.

They both studied me, in my ruined and hacked clothing.

“So much better, definitely a slut now,” remarked the trainer. The woman nodded in agreement. “You can see that she is just asking to be fucked, and will give herself to anyone.” She whispered in the trainer’s ear, and he nodded in agreement.

“We have to discuss your transgressions now over the weekend. Not only did you turn up in totally inappropriate apparel, but on several occasions, you disobeyed your orders. You did not always ays ‘Yes Sir’ or ‘Yes Miss’, and you sometimes tried to resist sex with whoever was trying to fuck you. My assistant has been keeping tally, and noticed 34 times that you did something wrong.”

My heart was hammering. I had tried so hard to comply, and now I was going to be punished. I realised that the trestle had legs had steel rings attached to them. The woman grabbed my hair, and used it as a lead to pull me over to the trestle and then, with me standing next to the bar, yanked it down so that I was bent over, with my stomach against the padded bar. There were some leather cuffs clipped to her belt, and she used these to attach my hands to the rings, before going found the other side and doing the same to my legs.

I was trapped now, bent over with my bottom sticking out, and I felt her pull the short skirt up, feeling the cold air on my exposed cheeks. The thong gave no protection, the thin string disappearing between my buttocks, and I felt a sting as she slapped me. Was I about to be spanked by her?

The trainer’s feet appeared in my vision, and he pulled on my head, forcing it back painfully so that I could see him starting down at me. I noticed with dread that he had a riding crop in his hand. I had only been whipped once before, many months ago in a dungeon at a party, and I had hated it. I really wasn’t into pain and now realised that I was about to beaten.

“34 mistakes, so 34 strokes. You will count each one out loud. If you miss one, or get out of step then I will start again, do you understand?”

I whispered, “Yes Sir,” as he dropped my head and moved behind me.

I heard the swish of the cane just before my bottom exploded in pain when he swiped it. Screaming out loud, I felt the tears spring into my eyes. I could see the boots of the woman standing in front of me, and my cheeks stung as she smacked my face with her palm.

“I can’t hear you counting, bitch!” she screamed, her face only inches from mine.

“One.”

The cane fell again, and it was just as bad as before. I screamed out, “Two!” The cane continued to rise and fall as the numbers got higher. My bottom was on fire now, and I squirmed in my bonds as it continued, tears rolling down my cheeks as I sobbed from the pain. There was a sudden pause, and I realised that I had no idea of where we had got to.

“How many left, bitch?” asked the woman.

I could barely speak, I was crying so hard. My bottom burnt from the pain as I hung there, soaked in sweat. “I don’t know Miss,” I stammered.

The trainer shouted at me. “You stupid piece of shit, can you not count? It’s 32, so you have two more to go.”

I shook as I continued to sob. I was so close but really didn’t know if I could last two more strokes. I could use the safe word, but then the whole weekend would have been for nothing, all my effort would be wasted. I took a deep breath.

“Please continue, Sir.”

The final two strokes must have almost broken the cane. I felt the trestle move as the blows landed, and I screamed even louder than before. When the woman untied my hands and feet, I just slumped on the floor, curled into a ball, tears continuing to roll down my cheeks. As the trainer left, the woman reached down and gently stroked my hair.

“You did very well darling. I’ve never seen him hit anyone as hard before, your poor bottom is really bruised. Stay here, and I’m going to get something to make it better.”

When she came back, I was still curled up on the floor, so she lifted me to lay face down on the couch. I felt the delicious coolness as she rubbed some cream over my buttocks, and the pain started to subside.

“It’s an antiseptic and numbing agent. You will be quite sore for a couple of days, but eventually it will stop, and the marks will fade. It looks quite bad now, but don’t worry, it won’t be permanent.”

I heard the click of a shutter, and then she showed me her phone. I couldn’t believe that I was looking at my own bottom. It was an angry purple, and the cheeks were criss-crossed with red striped where the cane had landed. Despite the pain, I saw how sexy I was in the short skirt, with the thong disappearing enticingly between my buttocks, and realised how fuckable I looked.

She sat down beside me, and lifted my head onto her lap, stroking my hair. “Your stay with us is nearly complete, and they will be picking you up shortly. I will have to make you ready for collection in a moment, but I just want to sit with you for a few minutes.”

Her voice was soft and tender as she continued, “I loved sleeping with you last night, and I loved being with you when we woke up.” I looked up at her, and was surprised to see her blushing. “I’m not supposed to get involved with the trainees, but I wanted you from the moment you came in. Thats partly why I’ve been so rough on you. I do hope you come back again?”

I lifted my head and kissed her. “I hope I do as well!”

I rolled off her lap, standing in front of her, assuming my position, with hands behind me, feet slightly apart, and my head down turned. Telling me to stay where I was, she left the room briefly, returning with a ball gag, which she slipped into my mouth before pulling it tight.

My jaws were wrenched open, and I felt the drool starting to pool in my mouth as I stood there. She reached her hand under my skirt, slipping a finger into my tiny thong and then inside me briefly, before pulling it out. I could see myself glistening on it as she put it to her mouth, and smiling at me, licked it clean.

The door bell rang and there were voices. Gripping me by the arm, she marched me into the hall and I could see Emma standing there, the surprise evident in her eyes as she saw me. The smartly dressed woman she had dropped off now looked like a total slut, breasts spilling out of a shirt that barely concealed them, and a tiny skirt just covering her. The beautifully made up face that fad arrived was now streaked with tears, and drool ran down my chin, dripping onto my breasts.

Without a word, the woman handed me to Emma, who turned, expecting me to follow. My bare feet stung as I tiptoed over the bare gravel, and I saw the shocked eyes of my husband, waiting for me in the car, his wife now transformed into a total slut.

My training was over, for now.