Bought and Trained (19 page)

The door closed behind Miss Abigail. Hannah couldn’t believe that she and Rose were
with their new owners, who seemed so cultured and nice.

“Girls,” said Mistress Grace, “you will call me Mistress, and I believe you already
know what you are to call Mr. Handelson.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hannah said, and heard Rose say the same, quietly.

“Girls,” Mistress continued, “we would like to begin by explaining a bit about why
we have decided to purchase you. Rose, you are a birthday present from me to your
master. Why don’t you go and kneel in front of him?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rose said. Hannah heard Rose shifting her position, to comply with
the command and move to where David was standing in front of an armchair.

“Rose,” Master said, in a voice that sounded a little strained. “You are going to
take me in your mouth now.” Hannah heard him unbuckling his belt, and then heard his
trousers fall to the rug. The chair creaked a bit as he sat back down.

“Yes, Master,” Rose said. Hannah could hear that she was frightened, though Master
seemed to Hannah to be quite a kind man.

“Hannah,” Mistress said, “come here and sit in my lap.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hannah said.

“Watch,” said Mistress, when Hannah had settled into her embrace. Mistress was a tall,
powerful woman who clearly exercised every day; she made Hannah feel small, the way
Hannah knew she was supposed to feel, and that feeling made Hannah snuggle into Mistress’
chest. As they watched Rose struggling to pleasure her master for the first time,
Mistress stroked Hannah’s hair and said, softly, “There, there. Don’t be scared, Hannah.
I won’t make you do that for a long while yet.”

Mistress began to stroke Hannah’s thigh a little. Then her fingers seemed to find
their way up under Hannah’s nightgown. “Rose is a wicked girl to suck her master’s
thing like that, isn’t she, Hannah?”

Hannah, exercising the freedom with her owners that, as an innocent—rather different
from a more standard concubine like Rose—she had been trained to use, said, “Oh, but
Rose is so nice! I’m sure she’s not wicked!”

“Oh, but I think she is.” Mistress’ fingers drifted under Hannah’s thigh, into secret
places that made Hannah sigh. “You are not wicked, though, are you, Hannah?”

“No, Mistress.”

“If you are not wicked, sweet Hannah, why are my fingers so very wet?”

Hannah blushed. “I don’t know, Mistress. You make me feel so funny.”

Mistress’ fingers travelled over Hannah’s thigh, now, and changed Hannah’s position
on Mistress’ lap so that Hannah was sitting with her little legs spread open. With
the other hand, Mistress swept up Hannah’s nightgown. Hannah looked at her master
in the armchair, with Rose kneeling in front of him, her head buried in his naked
lap. Hannah saw her master’s eyes come rest between her own thighs and upon her own
private part. She saw upon her master’s face how his pleasure grew, when he saw what
Mistress was doing with Hannah’s tender private part, even as he felt the even greater
pleasure of Rose’s mouth, which was giving out the little wet sounds of a girl struggling
to please her master that way.

“Sweet Hannah,” Mistress said in her ear, “I am afraid your mistress is very wicked.
Your mistress very much wants to spank Rose right now, because of that bad-girl thing
she is doing. Would you like to see Rose get a spanking?”

Truly, the answer was Yes, but Hannah said, loyally, “No, Mistress. That would hurt
Rose, and I love her.”

Hannah did love Rose—even more than she loved Nancy, who was gone now to some British
nobleman’s house, who had said he might even marry her if she was a good girl for
him. Rose always had a smile for everybody, just like Kerry had, but Rose was sweet,
too, and always asked her how class had been, and whether Hannah were getting along
with Lisa and the other innocents. Hannah could tell that Rose was very curious about
the special way Hannah was being trained, but also that Rose genuinely wanted to be
sure Hannah was alright, and happy.

Hannah thought that it was probably something that happened to the pick-ups: the idea
that their choice had been taken away when the breaking master had come to get them—that
they would be beaten until they did the things that the masters wanted and that if
they tried to run away they would be caught and the red collar would be put around
their necks—seemed to make them be nice to all the other girls, especially the ones
on their hall. It was as if the idea that Hannah had chosen to become a concubine,
that Hannah had decided, freely, to give up her right to choose, fascinated Rose,
and even made her love Hannah because Hannah had a kind of freedom that Rose dreamt
of. That freedom wasn’t a freedom not to do what her master (and now, it appeared,
her mistress) told her to do, no matter how shameful or wicked: it was a freedom to
admit to herself that she
wanted
to do those shameful, wicked things. Rose and Kerry seemed to long for that freedom.

Hannah often wondered what it was about her that had made it so easy for her to decide,
as soon as she had read about the program, that she would apply. She couldn’t remember
a time when she hadn’t felt like a concubine, hadn’t longed to live that part of her
soul. When she had seen the cryptic post on the net, soon after her eighteenth birthday,
‘Concubines trained for wealthy masters,’ she had simply emailed immediately.

Growing up in suburban New Jersey, she had always longed to be part of something bigger
than herself. When her contact at the Institute, after a long interview process that
had finally included undressing in front of her webcam to be evaluated that way, had
at last told her what it was she was applying for, she had known in an instant that
the concubine program was that thing.

One characteristic that had struck her about both Kerry and Rose was the way they
talked about their lives before their breaking masters came for them. There always
seemed to be an air of unreality about the things they said and the stories they told,
as if those things had happened to someone else. She remembered how Rose had told
her about being married: “I don’t know why I married him, really,” she had said. Kerry
had said something similar about her most serious boyfriend—“I guess I’ll never know
why we were even together; he wasn’t even nice to me.”

Hannah couldn’t imagine thinking that sort of thing about her life before the Institute,
even though it had assumed a kind of dream-like quality. Now, in her new mistress’
arms, it seemed like everything before she had volunteered had simply been a prelude:
Hannah had always known who she was, and now, with Mistress playing with Hannah’s
little private part so that her new master could see Mistress’ fingers at work, while
poor Rose had to suck his thing to make him feel the pleasure that masters are entitled
to, it all seemed to come together into a kind of wicked rightness that added contentment
to the incredible pleasure her mistress was making her feel.

Hannah watched her master’s hands descend onto Rose’s head, as he helplessly began
to make little thrusts up off the chair into Rose’s mouth.

“Are you going to come down that bad girl’s throat, David? Is that what you’re going
to do?” Hannah’s mistress said.

“Oh… God…” Master said. Mistress’ hands grew naughtier and naughtier in Hannah’s secret
places, in front and even behind.

“Do you like to see me play with my sweet Hannah’s pussy?” Mistress asked.

“Mistress!” said Hannah, shocked at the language.

“Rose,” Master said. “You are going to swallow my seed now. Get ready.” He groaned,
and held Rose’s blond head against his lap, while the girl made plaintive little sounds
around his manhood. “There you go. There you go. Drink it up, girl,” Master grunted,
as his body spasmed into his release. Then he gently raised Rose’s face, and looked
down into her eyes. It made Hannah happy to hear Rose say, “Thank you, Master,” and
to hear him say, “Thank you, Rose.”

“Let’s take them into the big bedroom,” Master said to Mistress.

David got two of the special cushions from the closet, and put them on the bed. Then
he told Rose to take her nightgown off and to get on top of the cushions, on her back,
as if they were a kind of seat. It looked very comfortable, Hannah thought, but she
could see that Rose trembled as she had to obey Master.

“Spread your legs now, Rose,” he said. With a whimper, Rose obeyed, hesitantly, and
Hannah had a beautiful view of her lovely pink pussy and anus, glistening with her
wantonness. “Hands under your thighs to offer your cunt,” Master said.

“Oh!” said Rose as she obeyed, and felt how it opened her.

“We’re going to watch, Hannah,” Mistress said, and led Hannah to a couch that had
a good view of the side of the bed where David now pulled up a desk chair, between
Rose’s spread thighs.

Master turned to Mistress. “Thank you, Grace,” he said, “for this beautiful little
cunt.”

That made Rose gasp, and Hannah blushed furiously when she saw that Rose’s pussy was
clenching at the way David spoke of her.

“You’re so welcome, David. Happy birthday.”

Master turned back to Rose. “I am going to have my first taste of you now, Rose,”
he said, “and you are going to watch me. If I see you look away from where I am tasting
you, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Rose whispered, her eyes wide with distress at the thought.

Hannah watched David’s face come closer and closer to Rose’s beautiful pussy. Rose’s
eyes were fixed on him, and Hannah saw that David’s eyes were looking right into Rose’s
gaze. David put out his tongue, and licked. Rose cried out, and, with a sob, looked
away.

She cried, “I’m sorry, Master… I’m sorry…” as David continued to lick, but then, after
a few moments, David pulled his head back and said, “Hannah, sweetie, would you go
the closet and get the paddle with Rose’s name on it?”

“No!” said Rose. “Oh, please… Master… I’m so sorry!”

But David had returned to his licking and kissing, and Rose was mewing with forced
pleasure again, while Hannah obeyed. Two small leather paddles hung there, one with
her name in calligraphy on the handle and one with Rose’s.

Mistress’ voice came from behind her, “You’d better get your own paddle too, sweetie,
and bring it to me.”

Hannah swallowed, and fetched the two paddles. When she brought Rose’s to David, he
pulled his face back, and used Hannah’s white nightgown to wipe his lips, delicately.

“Thank you, Hannah,” he said. “Now go to Mistress.”

“Over my lap, sweetheart,” Grace said.

Hannah turned and looked at her, brow furrowed. “But why, Mistress?” she asked with
a little wail.

“Because I like to spank girls,” Grace said, simply.

As Hannah began to arrange herself over Grace’s lap, with her face to the couch cushions
and her feet on the floor, she saw David turning Rose over, and rearranging the cushions
beneath her so that Rose was ready for punishment.

Every time Hannah heard Rose’s paddle spank her bottom, and heard Rose cry out, she
felt her own paddle strike her own bottom, and she cried out in sympathy.

“You will learn, girls,” David said, as the spanking and the crying continued, “that
when I ask for something, I will get it, or you will be punished. These paddles will
hang in your rooms, and Mistress and I will use them when necessary to enforce our
desires.”

* * *

A little while later they all lay together on the big bed, while Master told Hannah
and Rose about their new family.

“Girls,” he said, “you can tell already, I am sure, that Grace and I are not a traditional
sort of couple. We know that both of you come from much more conventional backgrounds
than we do, and so it’s important that we tell you about the way we were brought up,
and the way we have lived as a married couple, and what that means for you.”

David was lying behind Rose, both of them on their right sides, and Grace was lying
behind Hannah, facing them, upon their left sides. David was naked, and Grace wore
only a pair of lacy black panties. The girls were in their nightgowns, though Rose
had changed into her pink one.

“We grew up together in a very wealthy, very exclusive community on Long Island,”
David continued. “We are both descended from very old Swiss banking families. When
you grow up around people who can have anything they want, you end up different from
other people, I think. Some of that is good and some of that is bad, but now that
I’m older I think I can see that especially where sex is concerned, it simply is what
it is. Grace and I grew up thinking that if a man feels aroused when he spanks a girl,
or a woman feels aroused when she’s spanked, there’s nothing wrong with that—even
if the man is married, he can find someone who for the right price will have to let
him spank her, and have her, and the same goes for the woman.”

“And,” Grace added, “if a woman wants a girl to play with and do wicked things to,
she can find someone like you, sweet Hannah.”

“Our little enclave preserves many of the appearances of conventional family life,
partly because we need to keep up the show to get by in the world outside our community,
and partly because the traditional ideas have merit as a way to give children a rooted
existence. But in addition to fathers and mothers, most households also have servants,
and many of those servants are concubines.”

Hannah watched David take Rose’s throat, gently, in his left hand, and caress her
softly. Rose whimpered in a scared way, but Hannah could tell from the whimper that
Rose couldn’t help the arousal she also felt.

“In buying you girls,” he said, “we are following a pattern that seems to be very
common in our enclave: Grace and I married when I was twenty-five and she was twenty,
after having a great many erotic experiences both in and out of the enclave; many
of those experiences were with each other, or at least in each other’s company.”