Training Carrie, chapter 7

novel by Jay West

Training Carrie by Her Master

by Jay West

Chapter 7

I woke up on a bed, in an unfamiliar bedroom. I sat up and looked
around. It was a very well-furnished bedroom, obviously someone with money
lived here. So how did I get here? I noticed that I was still dressed in
the clothes I last remembered wearing. I stood up, and determined that I
felt fine, I just had no idea how I got here, the last I remembered I was
sipping coffee and talking to some guy in a neighbourhood cafe. I noticed
two open doors at one end of the room and a closed door at the other end.
Deciding to have a look around, I went toward the open doors first. As I
approached, it became obvious that the door on the right led to a bathroom.
I stuck my head in, and saw that it was pretty fancy – shower, tub with
water jets, bidet, toilet and basin, lots of towels.

Checking the second open door, I couldn’t see any furnishings until I
entered the room. The walls were filled by an outdoor mural containing
mountains, a forest, and animals of all kinds, floor to ceiling. At the far
end of the room. was a kind of control or security panel, with lots of
switches and TV monitors. I walked closer and looked at the monitor, and
gasped. It was her, my Slave, Marlene.

I instantly flashed with anger, thinking that this was some sick scheme
the organization was behind. She was naked, in the Instructional Pose,
kneeling in a spotlighted area in a dark room. I noticed that she wore no
manacles, belt, or collar.

There was a microphone on the table beside the monitor, so I pressed
the talk switch, and said “Where are you?” I knew she heard me, because she
jumped at the first sound of my voice, then smiled. But she remained
silent. I said, “Respond, Slave!” and she said, “Master, the Slave’s room
is in the basement, Master… Master, the Master’s keys and crop, and the
Slave’s bonds, are in a drawer below the monitor table, Master… Master,
please find the door in the wall and join your Slave, press the deer’s left
eye and the door will open, Master.”

I gathered up the keys, crop, manacles, belt, and collar, and turned
off the monitor. The door was easy to find using her instructions. It
opened to a plain concrete and steel staircase leading down one flight. I
closed the door behind me and went down. A short distance from the bottom
of the stairs was another closed door. I opened it and went in. It was like
the observation room at her original room, minus the computer interface.
There were more monitors, camera switches, and light switches. I could see
into the dark room through a one-way mirror, and off to my left she was
kneeling under a spotlight. I turned on all the lights in her room, and
tried the door that obviously led to the room. It was locked, so I tried my
keys and soon found the right one to open the door.

Entering the room, I walked up to her. Her stomach was flat and
prominently displaying the slight mounds defining abdominal muscle groups,
she had lost weight and toned her muscles. She was posed perfectly, with
her hands resting on her thighs, palms up and fingers straight. But what
stood out was the extent to which she had spread open her legs. They were
almost pointing straight out to her sides. That had to hurt like hell. Her
pussy lips were spread wide open. I said, “Slave, tell your Master what is
going on. Respond.” She said, “Master, there’s a lot to tell, Master.
Master, it would go faster if we could temporarily just talk, Master.
Master, this Slave has missed wearing its bonds, and would like very much
to have them reattached, Master.”

I said, “Temporarily, Slave, no formal responses, we will just discuss
what the hell is happening here. Do your legs hurt, being that far apart?”
She said, “They did, Master, but now the Slave can’t feel anything in its
legs.” I said, “Can you stand up?” She winced as she tried to move her
legs, and said, “Master, the Slave is unable to stand right now, its legs
are asleep.” I put down the crop and bondage gear and went behind her.
Putting my arms under hers, I raised her to a standing position and held
her up. She started moving her legs around and shaking them one at a time,
and after a while said that she thought she could support herself. I slowly
released her weight, and saw that she was shaky but able to stand. After a
few minutes, I told her to try to walk. She took a few hobbling steps, and
said that she was still feeling pins and needles, but that she could walk
if the Master ordered it.

I asked her how long she had held the Instructional Pose, and she asked
me what time it was now. I told her the clock in the bedroom had read 1:15,
and she said that would make it 5 and a quarter hours she had been Posed,
waiting for her Master to wake up and find her. I asked her how long it had
been since she had eaten or slept, and she said over 24 hours, not since
her Master had been brought to the house. Finally, I asked her when was the
last time she had a drink of water or used the toilet, and she said she did
both right before assuming her Pose. She then asked me to please reattach
her bonds before we continued. I said that first she must tell me why she
had sat for over 5 hours with her legs spread so far that it caused her
pain. She said that she had wanted to please her Master and to show him
that the Slave was worthy to continue its training.

I said that from this moment on, the spread legs rule of the
Instructional Pose was being modified. I told her that she would never
again sit with her legs spread so far apart that it caused her pain. I said
that this also applied to every other aspect of her life, that unless
specifically ordered to put herself into a painful position by her Master,
she would not do so. Spreading her legs “as far as possible” meant as far
as possible without causing pain. I asked her if she understood that
modification to her rules, and she replied that she understood.

I gathered up the bonds one by one and began putting them on her. I saw
right away that they were not the same design used by the organization, but
they were close enough to be functional. There were two sets of ankle
restraints, the steel ones and the padded leather ones. I chose the padded
leather. The segmented metal belt fit her perfectly, snug but not too
tight.

As I reattached her bonds, I began assessing her body. Her weight loss
had achieved exactly the effects we had planned for when she was at the
organization. Her breasts were smaller but still substantial. Her waist was
thinner. Her upper arms and thighs had begun to look slightly bony, but our
original plan would still work there too, to put on some muscle to offset
the thinning effect of fat loss. Her pussy was still clean-shaven. She was
still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen close-up.

When she had all her bondage gear on again, she asked me to please
restrain her wrists behind her back, and she sighed when I did that. Then I
asked her if she needed water, and she said she needed a drink and a toilet
break. I took her to the toilet area, noticing right away that it was
similar, but not identical to her original training room. Most obviously,
the lowering mechanism associated with the commode was missing. She saw me
looking at what replaced it, and said she was sorry, there wasn’t enough
time to design and build a similar mechanism. The replacement simply had
unmoving padded bars that the Slave hooked its arms over, and stirrups the
Slave put its feet into. The end result was the same as the original, the
Slave was suspended over the toilet bowl, with its legs straight and
widespread.

The penis drinking fountain looked the same. She showed me a dial on
the wall above it to set the amount of water delivered during each
discharge, and said it could be set anywhere between 2 and 16 ounces. I
looked at it and saw that it was currently set to 4. I asked her if she had
any longer attachments than the 3-inch one currently installed. She said
she never knew there were longer ones, that she could have some made if the
Master wished.

I let her have 6 discharges of water, a glass and a half. Naturally she
didn’t spill a drop. Then I directed her to the commode, but she asked if I
would please give her an enema first. I had her assume the Pose and gave
her a warm-water enema. Then she expertly mounted the simpler apparatus
over the commode, and waited for permission to expel her waste. I asked her
if this would be a good time to for a long discussion about what was going
on. She smiled and said, “Whatever the Master wishes.” I walked up to her
and caressed her breasts and pussy for a few minutes. She sighed
contentedly, and her nipples hardened immediately. I said, “Is it really
you? I thought you had left me forever,” and she answered, “All of this has
been done for you, my Master. Your Slave will explain everything.”

I told her to release her waste, which she did immediately. When she
was finished I ordered her to dismount and go to the bidet. When she stood
up, she almost fell to the floor, but I caught her in time. She said that
perhaps she should eat, the hose and funnel were ready in the Master’s
enclave. I said we weren’t going to do things her way any more until I
understood what was going on. I held her while she squatted over the bidet,
then dried her off. I asked her what was upstairs, and she said it was the
Master’s house. I asked her what that meant, and she said it meant that it
was a house, and that it belonged to the Master. I asked her if there was
more to it than the bedroom, and she laughed and said yes, it’s a real
house. God, how I had missed that laugh. I asked her if the house had a
kitchen with food, and she said yes, the kitchen was fully stocked.

I led her to the exit door, unlocked it, and ordered her to go through.
She stood still, and said. “Master, the Slave belongs in its room until
training is completed.” I told her that training wasn’t even going to start
until I knew what the hell was going on, and for her to get her ass through
the door and up the stairs. I said for her to think of this as a preview of
a slave’s life after training.

We went up the stairs and into the bedroom. I found a closet and looked
to see if there was anything in there suitable for her to wear. It was all
men’s clothes, including a couple of leather outfits. Everything looked
like my size. I asked her if she had any clothes here. She said her clothes
had been moved to a closet in the guest bedroom, that she didn’t know if
she would ever need them again, but she hadn’t wanted to destroy them yet
without the Master’s permission. I had her lead me to her clothes.

I was looking for something suitable for a Slave to wear around the
house, but these were all normal women’s clothes. Most of them she could
never wear again – assuming, of course, that she really was still my Slave.
Finally I found a long colourful blouse that buttoned up the front. I
unfastened her wrists and told her to put the blouse on but not button it.
It was just long enough to cover her ass, but even unbuttoned, it came
together in front to hide her body. So I had her find a couple of safety
pins, gathered the blouse material in the back and pinned it, so that her
breasts, stomach, and pussy were exposed. I rolled her sleeves up above her
elbows. Cute as a button.

I didn’t think she was in any shape to remain standing for long or to
kneel again, so I explained one of the extensions of the “no sitting” rule,
that came into play after training was over. A slave can never sit while
its ass is naked. If the Slave is wearing an article of clothing that
covers its ass, as she now was, the Slave can sit. However, the Slave must
always move the clothing aside as it sits, so that its bare ass is resting
on whatever it is sitting on. I told her that most Slaves find that to be
the most self-contradictory, ridiculous, and annoying of all the rules
imposed upon them, and I asked her how she felt about it. She said that it
was very clever, it forced the Slave to confront the fact that it was
different from all others around it, even when it was dressed normally. She
said she assumed that this rule was enforced even in public, where it would
be most effective. I said that it was always enforced in public, and that
she was even smarter than I always thought she was.

I had her practice sitting on a chair, pulling up the tail of the
blouse as her butt contacted the chair. She said that just performing that
act with me watching was humiliating for her, she could only imagine how
she would feel doing it in front of a room of strangers. I told her that
her humiliation was the whole point, and that she would wear clothing and
develop techniques that would be subtle enough that most people wouldn’t
notice, but she would always know that some likely would notice. I pointed
out a direct consequence of this rule, that a Slave never, ever wore
panties, shorts, or pants, only skirts and dresses. Usually a Slave’s
skirts and dresses were especially designed with a slit at the rear, which
was not apparent when the Slave was standing or walking, but which allowed
the material to be pulled aside as the Slave was sitting. To see how
easily she could be shocked these days, I added that such designs were also
handy when the Master wanted to bend the Slave over a park bench or the
hood of a parked car and fuck it. She laughed, and said that had occurred
to her, too. I told her that later we would inspect all of her clothing to
determine which articles were suitable or could be modified as Slave wear,
and destroy everything else.

I found a pair of plain, 3-inch high heel shoes, and had her put them
on. Then I had her lead me to the kitchen. While she sat in a chair where I
could see her, I rummaged around in the kitchen and found the necessary
utensils and food to make a T-bone steak and a garden salad. When all was
ready, I grabbed the food and told her to lead the way to the dining area.
I put the food on the table, arranged two chairs side-by-side in front of
the food, and watched her while she sat in one of the chairs. When she was
seated with her bare ass on the chair, I fastened her wrists behind her
back, then asked her if there was any wine. She told me where it was kept,
and I shortly returned with a glass of red wine for me and a glass of water
for her.

We started eating. I would feed myself, then feed her. We didn’t talk
much during the meal. She was obviously starving, and I concentrated on
divvying up the food fairly between us. I gave her a sip of wine now and
then, but mostly kept her on the water. I’ll confess that a few times
during the meal my hand wandered over her breasts and her pussy, and she
didn’t seem to mind that at all. When we were finished eating, I carried
the dishes back to the kitchen, then came back, released her wrists, and
said, “Now we’ll talk, where’s a good place?”

She led me to the living room. I noticed that a fire had been laid in
the fireplace, and I told her to light it while I went back to the kitchen
for another glass of wine. When I returned I sat on the couch, then had her
kneel in front of me, her knees touching the front of the couch. She
immediately put her head in my lap, and said she had longed for this day
since the last time she had seen me. “When was that?” I asked, “About a
year and a half ago, by my estimate.” She looked up into my eyes, and said
“Yes, Master, I’m so sorry it took this long to get everything ready.”

“Why did you do all of this? And how did you do all of this? And where
is this place?” I caught myself starting to babble, paused, and told her to
just tell me her story in her own words.

Her story was really pretty simple. During that confrontation with the
organization, I had told her that we could trust them to keep their word on
the deal they made with us. She disagreed, she didn’t trust them at all, so
she decided to make her own arrangements. She didn’t see any reason they
should have her $300,000 when she and I could make better use of it. She
was also afraid that they would start rooting around, find out she had a
lot more that $300,000, and try to take everything.

The lawyer they sent with her was only interested that she not speak to
anyone about the organization, plus he was an idiot. It never occurred to
him that she would take off, which she did at the first opportunity.

She made a beeline to her own lawyer, a lifelong friend and business
partner with her late father, who managed her considerable fortune – money
she had been born into but had never been interested in until now. She
explained her situation to him, and told him what she needed to do, which
was disappear from the face of the earth and be reborn as another person.
And she also told him she finally had a use for some of that money. After
assuring himself that she really knew what she wanted, he effortlessly
connected her with the right people to make it all happen.

The short version was that Marlene was never heard from again, this
house was bought in another state, and extensive modifications were begun.
The basic construction was done by local contractors, but for the custom
finish work, she brought in special out of state contractors who were as
discrete as they were competent. She oversaw the detailed finish work
herself, ignoring the many sneers and snide comments she overheard daily,
trying her best to get everything as close as possible to her memories of
the original room. From what I had seen so far, she did pretty well.

The work was completed a few weeks ago the only thing she needed now
was me. All the time she was readying the house, a private detective was
working on getting me. He had paid enough money to buy inside information
about who I was and my activities within the organization. He knew that I
was persona non grata since Marlene’s disappearance – no longer trusted to
be a trainer, but too much of a risk to kick out of the organization. They
kept me close at hand for over a year, doing menial work for them for no
pay. They finally decided that I was harmless and sent me packing. I had
spent most of the time since then looking for food, shelter, and work. The
private detective had shadowed me, waiting for word that she was ready for
me. When that word was given, he drugged me and I woke up here in the
bedroom.

After thinking about all she said, I still had lots of questions. To
begin, I asked, “When you said this was my house, did you mean that the
upstairs is the Master’s quarters and the basement is the Slave’s
quarters?”

“No, Master,” she said. “I meant this is your house. You own it. You
own it all. Everything I once had, the house, the land, and all of the
money is yours now. I have nothing.”

“You can’t do that, it’s insane,” I screamed. “How do you know you can
trust me? How do you know I want it?”

She held my gaze, and said softly, “Master, I trust you with my life.
Everything I am, I give it all to you. The money means nothing if I don’t
have you as my Master, my owner, my teacher, my lover. I’m so sorry, it
never occurred to me that you might not want it. If you don’t want it, we
will work out another plan. Please Master, we will do whatever you want,
whatever you decide. Just be my Master.” Tears were forming in her eyes.

“Never fear, my Slave. That is the one thing you will never have to
worry about. I am your Master, now and forever. We will talk about the
money again, but no more for now. I can see that this Slave is exhausted
and needs to go to bed.”

“Yes, Master, she said. “I’m afraid the Slave’s bed does not meet the
standards of the original one the Slave tried to copy. But I hope is is
close enough to satisfy the Master.”

“We’ll look into that tomorrow, Slave,” I said. “Tonight, the Slave
will sleep in the bedroom with its Master, without its bonds. They will be
reattached tomorrow when we return to finish touring the Slave’s room.” She
started to object, but I added, “That is a direct order, and severe
punishment will be due if it is not obeyed.”

“Yes, Master.”

I stood up and said, “Now Slave, you will remove your Master’s
clothing, then remove your own clothing, then crawl into your Master’s lap
for some cuddling.” She stood and removed my shirt, pants and shorts. She
then knelt and kissed my cock, then took it into her mouth. Of course it
stiffened immediately. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Slave,” I said,
and sat down. I offered her my feet, and she removed the shoes and socks.
Then she stood and removed her blouse and shoes. I motioned for her to turn
around, and she slowly turned in a circle for inspection. “You were a ten
before, now you’re a twelve,” I said, “now come here.” She climbed in my
lap and curled up with her head on my chest. I was lightly kissing her and
caressing her thigh, and within seconds she was asleep.

I carried her to the bedroom and put her in the bed. After removing her
bonds and placing them on the bedside table, I covered her and went to take
a shower. Crawling into bed beside her, I went to sleep with a hand on her
pussy. The last thing I remember was looking at her face, the clock on the
table read 5:00 PM.

I woke up when I heard her crying. I looked at the clock and saw it was
2:00 AM. “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Master, this Slave is afraid,” she said. “Master, the Slave belongs in
its room, restrained. An untrained Slave should not be left unrestrained,
Master. The Slave thought it would be allowed to resume its training once
the Master arrived. Is the Master not going to train his Slave?”

Alarm bells started going off in my mind. I pulled her into my arms and
said, “You were unrestrained and alone for the last year and a half, and it
seems to me that you did pretty well on your own. You know that you are
perfectly able to function on your own, you’re a strong, intelligent woman.
What’s really wrong?”

“Oh, Master, I was so certain I was doing exactly what you wanted. I
know I should have talked to you about it first, but there was no way to do
that without them hearing. So I just did it. I didn’t think it was right
for the Master to be dependent on his Slave for anything, so I gave it all
to you. I’ve worked so hard, but now I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything,
that you’ll never be happy here with me now. If you want me to leave,
Master, I will. I don’t want you to be unhappy with me, I will go away any
time you say. Or you can put me in my bed in the training room and just
leave me there. Whatever you want, Master. Anything.”

“I told you before that I will always be your Master. That means that I
will never leave you. I thought I had lost you forever, and now you’ve come
back to me, how could I not be happy? You will never again decide on your
own whether or not I am displeased with you. When I am displeased with you
I will make sure that you know it. Nothing I have seen here displeases me.
It is all delightful and astounding, that you would do all this for me.
There will be no more talk about me leaving or sending you away. That will
never happen. I want to hear you say that you will never leave me and that
you know I will never leave you. I want to hear you say that we are a
team.” She repeated it. I told her to repeat it again, and make me know
that she believed it. She looked into my eyes and repeated it as if they
were her own words. I told her I believed her.

“Furthermore,” I said, “this money thing is going to be settled right
now, because I can see that it is eating at you. Tomorrow we are going to
take whatever steps are required through your lawyer to transfer everything
back to you, where it belongs. You and I will always know that you are my
property, that I own you. And by owning you, I own everything that you own.
So there will be no question of the Master being dependent upon the Slave
for anything. It is all mine, to take when I want and to do with as I
please, regardless of what the law thinks. Do you understand and agree to
that solution?”

She shook her head that she did, and smiled at me. I told her that I
needed to hear her say that she agreed with that solution, and she said it.
I asked her if she had had enough sleep for awhile, and she said yes, so I
told her to go and get us some food and a glass of wine, and that after I
fed her I was going to fuck her. She leaped out of bed and ran to the
kitchen.

I lost track of how many times we did it, and how many times she came.
Sometimes her orgasms ran together for minutes at a time. She sucked my
cock for the first time, I fucked her pussy for the first time, and of
course she insisted I use her ass many times. I spent about 15 minutes just
working on her clit with my tongue, and she had one orgasm after another
the whole time.

We would stop when we were both exhausted, and hold each other until
one or the other of us started up again, then we would go at it some more.
I was long past worrying that she was going to kill me with sex. Then a
little past 7 AM, it happened. She was sitting on my cock with her hands on
my chest, and I was caressing her breasts, when the bedroom door opened and
a distinguished gentleman in a suit walked in. He paused, took in the view,
and said, “Good morning, Sir. Hello, Carrie, I thought you would be
downstairs. Would either of you like some breakfast?”

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Training Carrie, chapter 7

  1. I'm pleased you like the turn of events Mona Lisa, thought you might. The feeling of skin on leather, or skin on skin, ahhh.
    It is nice.

    Tomorrow more “Master” and “Slave” stuff.
    Not a week between chapters, LOL,

    Thank you for you comment,
    Han

    Like

  2. Jape.
    Like it.
    And you are right, sitting naked is nice feeling…

    Give ne more, Han.. Now I want know more about rhese two.

    Mona Lisa

    Like

  3. Yes, in a play somebody would call “curtain” and changed decor.
    I like the story of O part in sitting naked. In public almost impossible in real life, but a powerful fantasy nonetheless.

    I'm glad you're still reading, Cat,
    Han

    Like

  4. Whoa! I agree with Abby…quite a turn of events…looking forward to see where they go now. 😉

    Hugs and blessings…Cat

    Like

  5. This was actually the first chapter I started to share with my wife. I gave her a summery of what had happened, and retold her in Dutch in my own words about what had happened, I kept on doing that for the next 100 chapters.

    From now on we started to discuss the dynamics between them, and to copy some of the things in the story in our play. For the first time there was interaction between a story and our actual lives.

    Of course the story was not published daily. Sometimes you had to wait a week or more for the next chapter.

    I'm glad you like it so far, Abby,

    Han

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s