Bought and Trained (5 page)

“We are going to fuck, now, Rose, but you will be surprised at the way we fuck. I
am going to lie on the bed, on my back, and you are going to face my phone, which
is recording all of this, and ride my cock, until you come three times.”

“Oh… no…”

“Yes, sweetheart. You need to understand how very thoroughly you belong to the Institute,
and to the master who has bought you, now.”

Leo sat on the edge of Rose’s bed, and took firm, but not forceful, hold of the base
of the punisher, where it emerged shamefully from Rose’s bottom. “The best thing about
the posture we’re going to use for our first fuck, Rose, is that I get to see you
with my punisher in your backside the whole time you’re riding my cock. You can expect
that when you’re coming, I’ll remind you that you’re being punished, like this.” He
turned the punisher just a bit, and Rose gave a whimpering cry.

He let go, and pushed himself backward, until he was lying on his back, just as he
had told Rose he would. His cock stood up eight inches from his loins. He saw Rose
looking at it with apprehension.

“Rose,” he said, gently but also with a slight mocking edge, “I’d be very surprised
if you told me that you’ve never fantasized about being filled this way. One thing
you have to understand about your new life as a concubine is that we would never have
chosen you unless we knew that you were what we call ‘trainable.’ That means that
we know that as much as you pretend you don’t want to ride my cock, looking at the
camera, with an enormous punisher in your bottom, I know that you do.”

“I don’t!” Rose wailed. “I don’t!”

In fact, Leo knew from her application that both the filling fantasy and the punishment
exhibitionist fantasy were very important ones to her. The application asked candidates
for concubine training to rank a very long series of fantasy elements in the order
they masturbated to those elements. Filling was Rose’s number one (five times a week
or more), and anal humiliation was her number two (also five times a week).

“I don’t care, Rose,” Leo said calmly. “Come get on Master Leo’s cock and show him
how good a girl you can be.”

She looked at him desperately. In her eyes he could see that she was poised between
obedience and defiance. The problem for her, as it was for every concubine who came
to the program this way, by means of what the Institute called ‘pick-up,’ would be
admitting to herself that obeying Leo was the right thing to do, above all when her
body cried out to her to obey him, but her modesty and her shame—her repression—told
her to defy him. She had applied to the program because she had been desperate to
be forced to the sexual acts she craved. The disconnect that lives within so many
people, between their desires and what they have been taught about sex—about modesty
and lewdness, about the clean and the dirty—was so powerful inside Rose that it wasn’t
possible for her to enjoy sex unless she felt someone—a master—was giving her no choice
in the matter.

Leo’s job was to set up Rose’s entry into the program so that she would feel that
he was forcing her, but also so that she began to understand that she wanted to be
forced. That was the only way to give her what she needed, which in turn would ensure
that David Handelson would get what he had paid for. The transition from real reluctance
to the show of reluctance had to be seamless, and Rose had to be guarded for as long
as possible from the realization that for example the thing she wanted most in the
world was to ride Leo’s cock, with the punisher in her backside, not just to three
orgasms, but to as many as Leo would let her have.

Unless, at the end of the process, Rose could still feel that her masters were forcing
her, her extraordinary value as a pick-up—that is, really, as the unwilling concubine
of a man wealthy enough to afford to buy and keep an unwilling concubine—would be
destroyed. It happened frequently—perhaps in as many as a third of the cases Leo handled.
The Institute still got their money, but the concubine almost always left her master
at the end of the year.

Really, the volunteers were much easier—they just commanded only a tenth of the price.

Leo looked at Rose, still hesitating, standing at the end of the bed in the awkward
posture of a girl with an enormous anal plug firmly implanted. It was going very well,
but there was a great deal of work to be done.

“That’s a lovely pussy you have, Rose,” Leo said. “Come let your master feel it on
his cock. And you should enjoy the feeling of having your hair there while you can.
Your owner wants it taken off, and we’re going to do that later tonight.”

That got the reaction he had expected: Rose moved her hand instinctively to her cunt.
He watched her feel the soft hair there, and know that her fantasy of forced depilation
would soon be realized. At the thought, he was certain, she made a low moan, and he
could see her erotic imagination exert its control over her body; she climbed onto
the bed, wincing as she felt the punisher, but wincing in the passionate way of the
submissive, whose pain transmutes itself into pleasure.

She knelt on the bed, now, looking at Leo’s enormous, hard cock, and he could read
in her expression the play of fantasy that was running through her imagination: all
the times she had fantasized about being made to take a cock that big. She put her
right hand down, and then her left, and she was on hands and knees, turning her eyes
from his cock to his face. Her countenance betrayed the kind of fear that includes
a wish to be forced to do the frightening thing.

She was on the edge, and if Leo did his job right, she would ride that edge for a
very long time. For the moment, one more, simple threat would suffice, he knew. He
said, “Rose, get that pretty little cunt on your master’s cock right now, or I’m going
to make you take the biggest part of my anal punisher with no lube, right this instant.”

Rose closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. Balanced on her left hand, she put
her right again between her legs, as if she were by herself and in a dream of lust.
Leo watched the way her fingers moved against her pussy as she came to an understanding
of what he was saying, and then, as, with her eyes still closed, she turned herself
around and got ready to swing her left knee across his abdomen to comply with his
order. The end of Leo’s anal punisher, saucily protruding from her cane-marked backside,
came into view; the sight made Leo’s cock give a little leap of anticipation.

“Rose,” Leo said quietly, “did your ex-husband ever truly fuck you?”

She stopped the movement of the knee she was about to lift off the comforter. She
opened her eyes, and looked into his.

“I mean,” Leo continued, “I know you made love, but fucking and making love are different
things. And one thing we know about you, Rose, is that you need fucking.”

“No… he… oh my… Yes, Master…” Rose sobbed, and in an awkward series of movements of
her hands and legs, turned herself, and got over Leo’s thighs, the way he had ordered
her to. The punisher was too close to his right hand to resist giving it a tiny little
shake to remind her that she was still being disciplined, and she yelped very satisfactorily
when she felt how he could command her thus so easily.

Then her knee brushed his cock, lightly, and she seemed to shudder all over at the
contact. It would not be long, Leo thought, before she knew his cock so well that
to touch it with her knee would seem to her a profanation not of her but of him.

“Oh, God… oh, God…” she kept murmuring, to herself, as she tried to put herself into
the position she thought Leo was requiring of her, crouched on hands and knees, straddling
Leo’s legs.

Leo reached out and grasped Rose’s hip in his left hand as he took his cock in his
right, and moved it to the exact angle where, when Rose was ready, she could slide
herself down upon it, in obedience to his command. With the hand upon her left hip,
he gripped just tight enough to let the girl know he could control her that way.

Still his cock had not touched her cunt, and though Rose, as Leo knew she must, fought
weakly against his left hand, instinctively, like the wanton slut she truly was, trying
to bring her pussy-lips to where the enormous cock she had seen could soothe the ardor
she could not acknowledge, Leo had a lesson to deliver before he allowed it.

“Rose,” he said quietly, “the reason you are having your first fucking in this position
is that I want you to understand that to please your masters—me, and your training
master, and then above all your owner—your submissive pleasure, the pleasure that
you do not want and cannot help, is required.”

He loved this moment, and as he spoke he was jerking himself off gently, both to keep
himself ready to fuck her and because the arousal made the speech both more enjoyable
to give and more effective, since he knew Rose would hear in his words an intimation
of the way men’s desire worked, where concubines were concerned. Then, before continuing,
Leo pulled just a little bit upon her left hip, and brought her pussy, its pink inner
lips peeping out, against the tip of his manhood at last.

Rose moaned in response. The lesson was having its effect: Leo’s words, he could tell,
were freeing her to feel the pleasure he needed from her, but also making it clear
to her that her body, and its pleasures, belonged to him. That idea in turn would
feed her submissive desire so that when something shameful was required of her by
her owner, or he administered a punishment, Rose would display the paradoxical gratitude
of the submissive concubine while at the same time believing with the utmost strength
that she had been captured, and that she did not truly consent to be used by her owner
as the instrument of his pleasure. That was what David was paying for: Rose’s belief
that she had not chosen to belong to him, to be whipped, spanked, flogged by him,
to be fucked by him along every bodily avenue where he might take pleasure, to serve
him in the most shameful ways he might imagine.

“You are going to ride my cock, Rose, until I say you may stop. You must either come
three times, or deliver three award-winning performances as a repressed girl having
an orgasm. I know you do come, Rose—” she whimpered very nicely at that—“so I’m sure
that if you find yourself unable to do as I’ve ordered, you’ll be able to muster your
finest acting skills to convince me.”

Leo tugged at her hip, peremptorily, and Rose whimpered again, to feel that the head
of his cock had entered her, so close to where the black rubber arrogantly filled
her back passage. Leo took his right hand from his shaft and rested it on Rose’s right
hip. “Time to ride your pony, sweetheart,” he said.

Daddy/little girl age-play stood third on Rose’s list of fantasies, and so Leo expected
the deep moan that she gave as she began to slide down his cock. Leo himself couldn’t
suppress a grunt of pleasure at the incredible, slick tightness of her cunt, as she
began to bounce, sobbing with each little movement, to feel how full she was of what
Leo had put, front and back, into the places where Rose Hutchison, newly captured
concubine, had been told from childhood were naughty and not to be thought about,
let alone mentioned.

“Put your hands on my thighs, little girl,” he said, “and just ride. You can take
as long as you like.” It was a kindness that was also a cruelty, for the longer she
took riding his cock with the punisher firmly placed in her rump, the sorer she would
be, after, but the point of the game was to show Rose that her masters commanded her
pleasure, and that she could not deny it; only they could do that, and that part would
be coming up very soon.

Rose obeyed him, and began really to ride, with cute little up-and-down motions that
brought her sweet cunt less than an inch up his cock. It was of course not enough
friction to get Leo even particularly close to an orgasm of his own, but he had plenty
of time to enjoy her his way, later, and he contented himself with twisting the punisher
in her bottom a bit from time to time, to make her whimper and then, eventually, scream.

Rose’s training master at the Institute would teach her to ride a cock for its owner’s
pleasure; Leo just enjoyed holding her slim hips and helping her bounce while he murmured
things like, “There you go, baby. There you go. I like to see you ride.”

Her first orgasm seemed to catch her completely by surprise: at the end of a downward
bounce she gave a strangled cry, and Leo watched her back arch in a way he knew only
very gifted feigners could do at will. When he saw it begin to happen, he took the
end of the punisher between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger, and shook
it quickly and rhythmically. As often happened with the girls Leo broke, that extended
and transformed Rose’s orgasm, until she was panting, desperate to resist the feeling
that her body craved so strongly. “No, no, no, no…” she whispered as the climax faded
from her body.

“Yes, Rose,” Leo growled. “There you go… that’s one. Good girl.”

“I can’t,” she wailed. “I’m not… I can’t…”

“You are, Rose,” Leo said. “Your ex-husband’s cock never made you come more than once,
but that doesn’t mean your lovely little body can’t be awakened by concubine training.”

Leo thought about what Rose’s first orgasm with a trainer’s cock inside her would
look like for the camera and exulted.

Rose looked into the tiny camera on the man’s—Master Leo’s—phone, and into the mirror
beyond it, and saw herself both as a reflected image and as the subject of the video
being shot of her… being taken of her… for her new owner.

Her mind recoiled at the word, but Rose’s mind was not in control of Rose, at that
moment, in the slightest degree, for Rose was riding the cock of a man she had met
(truly you couldn’t even call it ‘met’) two hours before. Master Leo, the trainer
who would give her to another trainer, who would turn Rose over to her new owner…
once Rose was a trained concubine.