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Authors: Claire Thompson

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BOOK: The Compound
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Without a trace of self consciousness, Sam stepped out of the spandex thong and kicked it aside. His cock, even semi-erect, was perhaps the largest Alexis had ever seen, hanging several inches past his plum-shaped balls. He, too, was waxed smooth as a baby.

“An important trait in a trained sub is the ability to be fully in the moment,” Master John said as he retrieved a nearby stool and placed it beside Alexis and Sam. He sat down on it. “Anticipation, while useful perhaps if you’re trying to intuit another’s needs, has no place in a service sub’s repertoire. Your sole goal is to obey what is asked of you.”

Alexis nodded, though in fact she was already anticipating what this exercise, as he’d called it, would be. He wanted to see how accomplished a cocksucker she was. She assessed Sam’s already rising cock and swallowed, hoping she was up to the task.

“Keep your hands behind your back. Make Sam hard with your mouth.”

Alexis leaned forward, wrapping her lips around the fat head of Sam’s sizable cock. She sucked as much of the long, thick shaft into her mouth as she could. As it lengthened and hardened, she stroked the underside with her tongue and glided her lips farther down the shaft, attempting to take the whole of it into her mouth and down her throat, no easy feat.

A sudden, sharp tug of
Alexis’s hair jerked her back, and Sam’s cock fell from her lips.

“You need to
listen
,” Master John hissed, his voice tight.

“But—” Alexis began defensively, before clamping her mouth closed. She hadn't been asked a direct question. But what had she done wrong? Why was he angry?

As if reading her mind, Master John said, not to her, but to Sam, “What did she do wrong, Sam?”

“She did more than you directed. You said to make me hard. She was already working to suck me off.”

“That’s correct. In a word—she
anticipated
.” He let go of Alexis’s hair. “We’ll try again. Alexis, place your mouth over the head of Sam’s cock. You may stroke just the head with your tongue.”

Embarrassed, Alexis leaned forward again, this time determined to follow his command to the letter. She caught Sam’s cock with her lips and wrapped them again around the head. She swiveled her tongue over the smooth skin and along the slit at its center. She wanted to take him more fully into her mouth. She wanted to reach for those plum balls with one hand and wrap her other around the base. She wanted to show them both how accomplished she was at
cocksucking.

She resisted, continuing only to move her lips and tongue over and around the head of Sam’s cock for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, Master John said, “Take the full length of him into your throat.”

Ah, at last. Eagerly she leaned forward, doing her best to accommodate the incredibly well-endowed man. She willed her throat muscles to relax, determined to demonstrate her skill. Sam groaned softly as she massaged his shaft with her throat muscles and tongue. She pulled back a little to increase the pressure and sensation and then bobbed forward again, this time taking a little more than she’d been able to a moment before.

Again she felt the sudden, fierce tug as Master John wrapped his fingers in her hair and jerked her, even harder than before, from her task. Unable to stop herself, Alexis gave a cry of dismay as Sam’s glistening cock fell from her lips. 

“Ego,” Master John intoned, his fingers still entwined painfully in Alexis’s hair, “has no place in a slave’s repertoire either. You seek to impress, and you continue to anticipate. Now, let’s try again. Take Sam’s cock into your throat. Do
nothing
else. Just that.” He let her hair go.

Tears pricking her eyelids, Alexis again took Sam’s cock into her mouth, moving slowly forward to take his length. She was tense but too frustrated and upset to relax. When the head of his cock moved past her soft palate and touched the back of her throat, she gagged. Instinctively she started to pull back, but stopped herself in time.

Get it right this time, damn it. Don’t fuck up. Relax. Relax

Closing her eyes, she willed her throat muscles to open and soften. She felt Master John’s hand on the back of her head and stilled, afraid he was again going to pull her hair for some infraction. But he only gently pushed her forward, which caused Sam’s cock to go even deeper. She gagged again, but Master John didn’t let go. Somehow she worked past the reflex, trying to breathe through her nose as Sam’s cock blocked her windpipe. When Master John removed his hand she almost reared back, but caught herself in time. He hadn't given her any command, other than the one to take Sam’s cock into her throat.

Do nothing else. Just that.

Her legs were hurting again, and she clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting. Sam’s cock was heavy and thick in her mouth and throat, and saliva was pooling around it, which she was unable to swallow. Her eyes began to water and she thought she was going to gag again, but she somehow managed to will away the need. She imagined wide, deep blue skies, a single bird soaring high in the heavens. She thought of a thick, soft quilt she would lie down on, and then visualized a tub of steaming, sweetly scented water.

After hours, or at least what felt like hours, Master John finally said, “Good. Pull back and let him go. Remain in position three.”

Alexis did so, sucking in a huge breath of air, relieved and thrilled she’d finally done something right. His single word of praise warmed her to her bones.

“Thank you, Sam,” Master John said. “As a token of my appreciation for your services, you may ejaculate on Alexis’s face and breasts. Then you may dress and go.”

Wait. What?

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” Sam replied, his face splitting into a smile. Grabbing his cock, he stroked himself furiously, and within seconds he began spurting ribbons of white jism. Gobbets of the gooey stuff landed in warm splatters over her face and breasts, and Alexis squeezed her eyes and mouth shut, any lingering warmth from the trainer’s praise lost in a new wave of humiliation and confusion.

Stepping back, Sam pulled on his thong, bowed respectfully in Master John’s direction, and padded out of
Alexis’s line of vision. She brought a hand to her face, trying to wipe a blob of the sticky ejaculate from her eyelid.

“What are you doing?” Master John snapped. “Did I tell you to move out of position?”

Was he kidding? Did he really expect her to leave Sam’s come dripping from her face and breasts? Apparently he did. Biting back a sigh, Alexis stopped what she was doing and put her hands again behind her back, clasping her wrists. She could feel the flame of a blush moving up her throat to her cheeks.

Master John stood, pulling her leash from his pocket. He clipped it to her collar and tugged. “Let’s go. I’ll take you back to the slave quarters. You have free time until dinner. You are to stay in the slave quarters. You can shower, nap, visit with the other
trainees—whatever suits you. Dinner is at seven o’clock, sharp. I will expect you on my cushion at six fifty, ready and waiting.”

Alexis rose, come still dripping from her face and smeared over her breasts. She followed the trainer from the room, down the two flights of stairs and out of the building. She was completely exhausted. She couldn’t wait to get away from the exacting Master John. She couldn’t wait to get into a shower and wash away this humiliation.

She had, she realized, a lot to learn.

~*~

Paul looked up from the novel he was reading at the tap on his open door. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

John entered the room and Paul waved him toward the chair opposite his. When Paul had first come to The Compound a year ago, John had lived in the main house and their bedrooms had been next to each other. They were close in age, John being thirty-two to Paul’s thirty, and they had become friends.

“I’ve got a new trainee,” John said, settling into the chair, a clipboard in his hand.

“Yes, I know. Alexis, right?” In spite of
himself, just saying her name made Paul’s heart quicken a little. Which was odd, as she wasn’t his usual physical type, with her voluptuous curves, dark hair and olive-toned skin. He’d always fallen for the willowy type, women with long, lean bodies, small breasts, pale skin and fair hair. Not to mention, he knew it wasn’t a good idea to think of the trainees in a sexual way. They were short timers, here for their own purposes, not to satisfy the lusts of their trainers. While sex was certainly an important component of any submissive training equation, it wasn’t about the trainer’s gratification, but about the sub’s goals and needs, and he tried always to remember that.

But something about that girl—the spark in her eyes when they’d first met and the questioning curve of her kissable mouth as he’d introduced
himself—had skipped right past his usual defenses and lodged itself firmly under his skin. He didn’t share this with John, of course.  John would never approve. He was a strictly by the book trainer, and would never let his heart interfere with his head. Even when it had been plain to everyone but John that he was in love with Wendy, he’d still made her petition him formally, and run a whole gauntlet of tests before accepting her as his personal slave.

“Yeah.”
  John looked down at the clipboard, which Paul knew contained the vital statistics Miriam would have compiled to give the trainer a starting point. “She’s probably one of the most inexperienced subs I’ve ever been assigned to train,” John said. “She’s fidgety, easily distracted and impatient. I actually found her with her hand buried in her cunt when she was supposed to be waiting for inspection. She was so caught up in getting herself off that she didn’t even hear me come in.”

“No way!”
Paul laughed, though his mind shifted instantly to an image of Alexis caught in the throes of masturbation, her head thrown back, her cheeks flushed, her breath rasping in her throat. He shook his head to dislodge the image. “Is that why she was on the punishment platform?”

John barked a mirthless laugh.
“Nope. That was for yet other infractions, though not quite as serious. She’s just completely untrained. A total novice, though apparently Miriam saw something worthwhile in her.” He shrugged, as if what that might be escaped him.

“Let’s see the chart.”

John handed it to him and Paul scanned the information.

 

Alexis Stewart

Physical Statistics:

Female;

Age: 29
;

Height: 5’5”
;

Weight: 1
22 pounds;

Orientati
on: Straight, some bisexual tendencies;

Disposition: Masochist
with submissive leanings;

Fears/Current Limits: Inner fears about letting go, being perceived as out of control, weak
;

Known
Strengths: Intelligent. Sincere desire to submit. Highly sexual and orgasmic;

Known
Weaknesses: Lack of experience. Limited pain tolerance. Some resistance/shame related to anal penetration;

Stated Goals: To learn to truly submit with honesty and passion. To release her stranglehold on control (her words) and find serenity;

Current Status: Unowned.

 

Initial Observations based on emails and interview: Derives intense pleasure from sensation of all kinds. Highly orgasmic. Once things cross into a territory that she does not find personally exciting, she tends to close down. She can be evasive when questioned. Despite her lack of previous training and her limited experience, I see true potential in this trainee. Beneath the trappings of ego and drive that allow her to maintain the control she thinks is necessary, there is a genuine submissive.

 

Recommendations:

Teach her the value of answering a direct question quickly and succinctly
;

Test of pain tolerance level to see how she processes pain, as well as composure during the
testing;

Work on focus;

Associate orgasm with erotic pain;

Test reactions to sensory deprivation
;

Expose her to stress-inducing situation, such as public humiliation, predicament bondage, orgasm denial;

Test reaction to severe bondage for extended periods.

 

Paul handed the clipboard back to John. “I see what you mean about inexperienced. What’s Miriam’s basis for the comments about Alexis’s potential as a true sub?”

“Look at page two.
The essay.”

Paul flipped the page. The essay was handwritten, which was unusual in itself. Paul, who produced a scrawl at the best times, was impressed with the elegant, uniform lettering. He scanned the page and then began to read in earnest, his eyes moving over the heartfelt and almost painfully honest yearnings of a young woman clearly searching for something within
herself. It was the last few paragraphs that really got his attention.

 

All my life I’ve been struggling to come to terms with what I am. I had difficulty reconciling my inherently submissive nature with my sense of self as a confident, successful woman. I was rewarded by society for the obvious academic and career successes I enjoyed, but I have come to realize I have always taken the easy route, using the shield of my outward success to hide the secret longings of my heart and soul.

BOOK: The Compound
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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