Training Carrie, chapter 9

novel by Jay West

Training Carrie by Her Master

by Jay West

Chapter 9

As we neared the house, I noticed Philip looking out a window at us.
Once inside, I had her change shoes and put on her house blouse. Philip
walked into the room, and when she saw him she ran to him and threw her
arms around his neck. She said, “Philip, I’m going to be all right. I can
grieve for the loss of my family now, I can heal.” Philip was speechless,
he just held her in his arms. He looked at me, and I told him that he had
raised a wonderful woman.

She finally let go of Philip and kissed him on the cheek. She said that
she was exhausted and that she needed to go to bed. I told her to go ahead,
I would be there in a minute. When she had left the room, I said, “Philip,
you know my name, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir”, he replied, “I worked with the detective to have you
brought here. He gave me your name, Sir, and I gave it to Mr. Collins, her
family’s lawyer.”

“Does she know?”

“Oh, no, Sir. She forbade me or her lawyer to tell her your name. She
said that if you wanted her to know your name you would tell her. She even
made her lawyer create transparent overlays that blocked out your name on
all of the legal papers she had to read and sign, when she transferred
everything to you.”

“You’re more than just a butler, aren’t you, Philip?”

“I did many things for Carrie’s father, Sir. Butler was one of them. At
my age, Sir, this job has enough challenges to keep me occupied.”

“I’m betting you’re also a sort of bodyguard.”

“I was enjoying an early retirement, when I was contacted by Mr.
Collins, who thought that Carrie might be at risk. My wife and I moved here
immediately and took up residence in the guest house a few hundred feet
away. This property has an elaborate security system, Sir, although it
might not be apparent unless you know what to look for. I am her last line
of defence.”

“And what would cause you to take defensive measures against me?”

“Carrie made it very clear, Sir, that no matter what I saw and no
matter what I thought was happening, you were not a threat and were not to
be interfered with. She described in detail some of the more … disturbing
things I might see. I suppose I would follow her orders until it was too
late, Sir.”

“And then?”

“Then there would be a price to pay, Sir.”

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances, Philip, because I love her, and
I’m not going anywhere unless she decides this is not what she wants any
more.”

“I understand, Sir. I’m beginning to think there is no cause for
concern. Will that be all, Sir?”

I told him I would like to discuss this more with him later, but for
now would he please to bring me some kind of sandwich and an iced tea in
the bedroom. Then I went to check on her. She had collapsed face down on
the bed, still wearing her blouse and shoes. I carefully removed them, then
rolled her into position with her head on the pillow and put the covers
over her. I pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down. The clock read 12:10
PM. Some time later Philip brought my food, and I ate it. I watched her
sleep for a few hours, then finally dozed off, still sitting in the chair.

I awoke when I heard her say, “Master?” She was lying there looking up
at me. It was 7:35 PM.

I smiled at her and said, “William Edward Patterson. Bill.”

“Who’s that?” she said.

“That’s me. That’s my name. You will still call me Master, but I want
you to know my name.”

“May I use it once, please Master?”

“Once, and only once.”

She beamed a smile at me. “Bill, you have given me so many gifts today,
how can I thank you?”

“You made all of this possible, Carrie. It’s I who am in your debt.”

With a devilish grin, she said, “Come to bed, Master, let’s repay some
of our debts to one another.”

I asked her if she could cook, and she said that she was a very good
cook. I told her that I made dinner last night, tonight it was her turn,
get out of bed. She got up and I held her blouse for her to slip into. She
said she needed a bathroom break, so I sat on the edge of the tub and
talked to her while she used the toilet and bidet, and washed her hands and
face. She started to dry herself, but I took the towel and did it for her.
I walked up to the toilet to urinate, and she asked me if she could hold my
cock while I peed. I told her I wasn’t sure whether I would pee or become
erect with her holding it, but let’s try it and see. She needed to practice
her aim. but she did Ok for her first time.

When we came out of the bathroom, I reminded her to put on her heels.
She asked if she could remain barefooted. I told her no, but if she had any
lower heels she preferred wearing she could put them on. We went to the
room where her clothes were. While she found a pair of shoes, I told her
that tomorrow we would sort through her things and see what could be kept
and what would have to go. I said the items we were keeping would be moved
back to the main bedroom, because unless she was spending the night
downstairs, she would always sleep in the same bed with her Master.

While she prepared a light dinner, I opened a bottle of chilled white
wine and poured two glasses. She seemed surprised that I was letting her
have a whole glass to herself. I handed her a glass, raised mine, and said
“To Carrie and Bill, may they be together always.” She took a sip, looked
into my eyes, and said, “I believe they will, Master.”

As we ate, I told her about my plans for tomorrow. After breakfast we
would sort her clothes. Then we would go downstairs, and she would exercise
for an hour or so, including some instructions on the weights. Then I would
attach her to the rails and butt fuck her. She would then get a shower, and
we would come back up for lunch. In the afternoon we would go for a long
hike, and she would show me the property. She would bring a blanket and sun
block, and would be naked except for shoes. The real purpose of the tour
would be to find good places to stop and fuck for awhile. After a casual
dinner we would go back downstairs and she would demonstrate the learning
machine for me. Then I would put her in her bed and give her a goodnight
fuck. I would spend the night on the couch down there, and every time I
woke up she would get another fuck. I asked her if that seemed like a good
day’s activities to her. She laughed, and said unless she missed something
it sounded like she would only get fucked once all morning, what was the
problem? I told her she was ignoring what would happen before breakfast,
and asked her if she remembered this morning’s activities prior to Philip’s
arrival. She smiled, said that was more like it, and kissed me.

After dinner, I filled the wine glasses and we moved to the living
room. I plopped on the couch and told her to light the fire in the
fireplace, then sit beside me. We sat and watched the fire and talked of
trivial things for probably two hours. Then she looked at me and asked me
to please fuck her, so we engaged in some heavy petting and a couple of
good fucks on the couch, then went to bed. It was only 10:30, and we had
both slept all afternoon, but still we went to sleep before we could get
around to another fuck.

I woke up around 4:30, to find she was sucking my cock. I told her that
if she got me off when I wasn’t awake to enjoy it, she would be in trouble.
She laughed and said I was awake now, why didn’t I do something? That
started the ball rolling, and it was still rolling when Philip showed up
shortly after 7:00. This time when he made his appearance, I was butt
fucking her over the back of a chair, while reaching around to stimulate
her clit and a breast, and she was laughing at a joke I had just told her.
We had paused our activity for him yesterday, but I didn’t feel like
stopping this time. Philip’s jaw fell open, but before he could speak,
while still laughing and while I was still pounding her asshole, she said,
“Same order as yesterday, Philip, but would you please section my
grapefruit?” She also came while she was talking, but she did a good job of
covering it up. Philip closed the door again, not having said a word. She
looked around at me and we both laughed some more. I said that maybe next
time he would knock first.

Again we were cleaned up just as Philip came back with breakfast. Even
though she wasn’t manacled this time, I fed her breakfast anyway. I also
allowed her a cup of coffee, telling her it was a reward for ordering
sectioned grapefruit and for having such a cute ass. After breakfast, I
told her she would have some leeway in shoe choice in the evening, but
during the day it was my choice, and the choice was the high heels. She
immediately put them on, and I told her it was sorting time.

When we reached the guest room where she had stored her clothes, I sat
on the bed and told her to first take everything that had pant legs, and
make a pile on the floor, she would never wear them again. I then told her
to add any dress to the pile that was tight around her legs or that didn’t
allow her breasts to be fully exposed without removing the dress from her
shoulders. All but a few of her dresses were added to the pile. I then had
her take out her blouses one by one and show it to me. Some I had her put
on before deciding. She was able to keep all of them except the ones that
closed from the back. All pullovers had to go unless they looked so
stunning on her that I didn’t want to throw them out. I let her keep a few
like that, but told her that pullovers were for occasional use, special
occasions only. Next she showed me all of her skirts. About half of them
were discarded, mostly because they were too tight to pull up easily, or
because they were just plain ugly. I told her we would keep all of the
shoes for now.

I asked if she had any stockings or pantyhose. She had a few pairs of
the latter, and they were added to the pile. She showed me the stockings
one pair at a time, and I let her keep the ones I thought would look sexy
on her. I told her they, too, were for special occasions. She also had some
of those short, white socks women usually wore with sneakers, and I her
told to keep all of them. Garter belts? She only had a few, I let her keep
the two that looked sexy when she modelled them. Bras? all were added to the
pile. Slips? Keep them all except the tight ones, special use only. Finally
I told her to dump all panties on the pile. This was the first time she
raised any objection. She said that she preferred panty shields to tampons
when she had her period, and asked if she could keep a few panties for that
use only. I asked her if she was unable to use tampons, and she said no,
she sometimes used them. I told her that from now on she would use only
tampons, or nothing at all, to toss all the panties on the pile. As she was
doing that, I told her that she would never insert or remove a tampon
without asking me first, so I could decide whether to do it myself or to
watch her while she did it. She gave me a shocked look, and I told her that
there was no aspect of her life that I would not be involved in. I would
tear down all the walls between us.

Since there were no more clothes to sort, I told her to take the
keepers into our bedroom and put them in the closet next to my clothes or
in a drawer that already contained clothing articles of mine, to leave the
drawer she put her things in partially open so I wouldn’t have to search
for it, and then to assume the Waiting Pose in the mural room. I cautioned
her not to try to sneak anything from the discard pile into our closet, I
would know and she would be punished. Then I left her to her task.

I went in search of Philip, and I found him in the kitchen. I told him
that I planned to take Carrie outside every day that the weather allowed
it, and asked him to tell me the risk of the two of us wandering around on
the property. He said that the security system looks out from the property
as well as inside, and so far there have been no unidentified or suspicious
people seen. I asked him who monitors the equipment, and he said it was
subcontracted to the best industrial security firm in the country.

I said that must be expensive, and he said that he and Mr. Collins had
agreed that the costs of this level of security was high, but it was a drop
in the bucket considering Carrie’s wealth. He also said that there was no
price too high to protect Carrie, for those who loved her. I told him that
I was also in that category, and that I agreed. I asked him if she knew of
all these precautions. He said she probably suspects, but she had never
asked and they didn’t see the need to add that to her concerns. Again I
agreed, but I asked him how it was all paid for without her direct
involvement. He paused for a moment, then shrugged and told me Mr. Collins
had a wide latitude in committing her funds. I asked him if Mr. Collins was
trustworthy. He told me that Mr. Collins was not a stereotype lawyer, and
that he was certain that Mr. Collins would never betray Carrie’s trust in
him.

I said that Carrie’s wish to transfer all of her wealth to me must have
caused them some concern. He said it had, especially since Carrie demanded
that all of Mr. Collins expenditures had to be approved first by me. I said
that if he was sure that we could trust Mr. Collins, to please tell him to
restore his discretionary authority when transferring it all back to
Carrie. He stammered a bit, paused like he was conflicted about revealing
more, then finally said that the papers authorizing full control by me had
never actually been filed. He added that, had the issue arisen from either
Carrie or me, Mr. Collins would have immediately taken steps to implement
the change, but that they wanted to learn as much as possible about me
first. I laughed and told them I had suspected that, and that I would
expect no less diligence from them in the future. He actually looked
relieved.

I then told him the real reason I had come to talk to him. I told him
that I didn’t know if the organization would move against Carrie or not.
The more time passes, the less likely it seems. Surely they realize that if
she was going to try to cause problems for them, she would have done it by
now. On the other hand, they may be committed to recapturing her or worse,
but they just haven’t found her yet. I then told him that anything I asked
him to do was a request to a person who is employed by Carrie, and that he
would either do as I asked or not. That was fine with me. But what I wanted
from him now was not a request, it was a demand. If there were ever a real
threat to Carrie, I demanded to be included in her defence. I never
expected his response: “Were you planning to take her outside today, Sir?”
I said yes, today and any other day the weather was good. He asked me to
wait for a moment and he left the room.

In a minute Philip returned, and handed me a pocket pager. I asked him
what it was for, and he said that it would receive direct messages from the
security monitoring service, and that he could also send me messages while
we were out walking, should the need arise. He said that messages from the
security service would always be prefixed with INFO, CAUTION, WARNING, or
THREAT, depending upon the perceived danger level. He said that messages
from him would use the same convention, but the security prefix would
always begin with P, so I would know that it was from him. I thanked him
for trusting me, and told him I needed to know one more thing: “Where are
the weapons?” He gave me a blank stare for a moment, and then said if I was
referring to guns, Carrie hated guns and would not allow guns in the house.
I said, “Ok then, where are the weapons hidden?” He just shrugged, and said
“In every room of the house, Sir.” I told him I needed to know where every
one of them was. He just stood there looking at me for what seemed like a
long time, then he said, “If you will follow me, Sir.”

He first took me to an small office-like room, I assumed it was where
he hung out while he was at the house but not busy. He moved aside a high
bookcase that was actually on wheels, and there was a gun rack behind it.
It had four pump shotguns and two automatics, one high powered rifle with a
scope, a night vision scope, about half a dozen 30-30 lever action rifles
like the kind seen in old westerns, a drawer full of pistols, and enough
ammunition to outfit an army. He asked me if I saw anything I thought I
couldn’t handle. I said that I probably wouldn’t be competent to sight in
the scopes, but I could handle everything else. He closed the rack and
replaced the bookcase, then led me on a tour of the rest of the house. He
said that all of the other guns in the house were fully loaded pistols.

I told him we couldn’t go in our bedroom, because she was waiting in
the mural room and would hear us. He asked me if I was sure she would
remain there, and I said that was one thing I was absolutely sure of. He
looked at me as if asking why, and I said it was because I had commanded
her to go there and not to move until I arrived. I was surprised that he
asked the question, did she ever disobey my commands? I said that so far,
she hasn’t even disobeyed my requests, and that I was beginning to worry
that she would start doing things I’m only thinking of asking her to do.

He told me that the only gun in the bedroom was attached to the
underside of the table we had been using for breakfast. I told him he had
to move that one immediately, and he asked why. I told him that I had
already lost count of the number of times Carrie and I had had sex on the
floor in there, and it would only be a matter of time until she was lying
on her back, looking up at the underside of that table. I told him we would
be going to the basement for a few hours as soon as he showed me where the
other guns were, and that he should move that one right away. He said he
would, and led me on a tour the other rooms. Most of the guns were hidden
behind or under something in locations she would never look, but I
suggested relocating some of them and gave him my reasons, and in each case
he agreed that he would move them as soon as he could find a better hiding
place.

As he wrapped up the tour, he asked if he could make a request of me. I
said ask away, and he said that the guest house he shared with his wife was
down the hill from here, behind a dense stand of foliage. He asked that
when I was out with Carrie and she was undressed, or when we were engaging
in sexual activities, would we please try to stay out of sight of his
house? He said that his wife was also someone with a deep love for Carrie,
and that he didn’t think she would understand if she saw those types of
things. I told him that we would try to stay out of sight of his house, and
asked him where we should go to avoid it. He said that any place on the
property that wasn’t downhill from here would be fine. I told him we would
not go near his house unless we were both fully dressed, and he thanked me.
In turn, I thanked him for his trust and went off to meet Carrie.

Entering the bedroom, I looked under the table and verified that there
was indeed a pistol there. Then I glanced at the clock, and was surprised
to see that I had been with Philip for nearly an hour. I grabbed a pair of
her sneakers, and white socks from the partially-open drawer, and went to
the mural room. She was Posed there as I knew she would be. I asked her if
there was any more bondage equipment than what she usually wore plus the
alternate ankle manacles. She replied with perfect formality that there was
lots of it, in drawers adjacent to the Master’s enclave. I kissed her and
told her she was perfect, for me anyway. I had her strip, parked the shoes
on the table, attached her bonds, attached her wrists to the belt behind
her back, grabbed the shoes, and led her to the training room. I told her
to lead me to the drawers, which she did.

I rummaged through the gear until I found everything I wanted, then
told her to go to the ritual bars. She gave me a big smile, expecting that
sex would be forthcoming. I reattached her wrists to the side of her belt,
then told her to lean her back against the front rail, and give me one foot
at a time so I could put on the shoes and socks. Then I told her to go to
the elliptical trainer. She looked disappointed, and I said, “I gave you
today’s plan, Slave. Exercise, then sex. Don’t give me that sad sack face,
or punishment might be substituted for sex today.”

While she waited, I looked for attach points on or near the trainer.
That was something she had apparently never thought of, because she wasn’t
in training long enough the first time to be put on the exercise equipment.
Finally I found a stationary piece of structure on the trainer that would
do the job without the risk of getting her leash tangled in the mechanism.
I told her she would be on a long leash while exercising, since I had to
release her wrists for safety, in case she fell. I gave her the choice of
being leashed by the belt or the collar “like a dog.” Having added that
last phrase to my explanation for a reason, I knew which she would choose,
and sure enough she requested that I leash her by the collar. I attached
the leash to her collar with a small padlock, first making sure the key
that was with the padlock would actually unlock it. Then I attached it to
the elliptical trainer, freed her wrists, and told her to climb on.

When she got on the trainer, I told her to go ahead and do what she
normally did, so she started. While she was warming up, I asked her if she
had a heart rate monitor. She didn’t have one. So I asked her how she paced
herself, and she said that after a few minutes to warm up, she just worked
as hard as she could for an hour. Knowing her, I knew when she said “as
hard as she could,” she meant that literally. I told her she would never do
that again, I would show her how I wanted her to exercise.

I made her go slow for 5 minutes to warm up, then I told her to stop
and step off the trainer. She looked puzzled, but did as I told her. I then
showed her the leg stretching exercises she would always do after the first
5 minutes. Since the elliptical trainer also had moveable handlebars, and
she used them, I also gave her a set of arm and shoulder stretches that she
would also do. When she had performed all of the stretches to my
satisfaction, I told her to climb back on and start her exercise. As she
did that, I walked to the front of the trainer and sat on the floor with my
back against the mirrored wall, looking up at her. I told her that, since
she didn’t have a heart monitor, we would use a different technique. I told
her that from now on, the formal speech requirement did not apply while she
was on the elliptical trainer. I explained that she would now exercise for
30 minutes. During that time she would talk to me continuously. She would
not ask questions, she would talk to me, tell me what she was thinking,
tell me about her childhood, anything she wanted to say, but she would not
stop talking. I would judge from listening to her voice whether she was
working too hard, or not hard enough, and correct her accordingly. I told
her that to start she would work as hard as she normally did. She
immediately sped up, and I told her to start talking now, and not to stop.

At first, she kept running out of things to say. I would command her
again to talk, and she would start a new trivial subject. Sooner than I
expected, she started getting to the important stuff. She started talking
about how she felt when we were fucking, how she felt totally controlled by
her Master, yet powerful. She said her certainty grew every day that she
was in the right place, with the right man. She told me she didn’t worry
anymore about whether or not she would cum, she just did it as many times
as she wanted to, until she was too exhausted to cum any more. That’s what
I thought she was doing, but without the sensors and computer the
organization used, it was impossible to know for sure.

I just listened, except a few times she was getting winded and I told
her to slow her workout pace a little. It wasn’t long before she got around
to our little talk yesterday, about her denial of her grief and wanting to
feel pain to punish herself for being alive. In the short time since then,
she seemed to have fully accepted the truth of what she recognized during
our talk. That was excellent, I was afraid she would later deny it. She
said that she could feel that her healing was beginning, thanks to her
wonderful Master. I made an exception to the rule at that point, to say
that it was the Slave who pushed through the pain to get to the truth, not
the Master. Then she started talking about how it made her feel when I
commanded her, or even when I asked her to do something, which to her was
also a command. She said she longed for the day when I would take her out
in public to “strut her stuff,” to use her phrase, so she could humiliate
herself publicly for her Master’s pleasure, whenever and wherever he
commanded. Of course, all of this was exactly what I wanted to hear, not to
make me feel powerful, but to break down all of her barriers. I knew that
when she ran out of bullshit, the good stuff would follow. I meant it when
I told her that I would tear down all of the walls between us.

Soon her half hour was up. She seemed surprised that it had ended so
soon. I told her to return to the warm-up pace for 5 minutes of cool down,
and that she could stop talking if she wanted to. She didn’t want to. I
listened as before, except twice I had to tell her to slow down, she kept
trying to get back to her exercise pace. She kept talking until I
interrupted to tell her the 5 minutes had passed. I had her stop, dismount,
and repeat her stretches. While she did that I told her that she would work
her way up to 45 minutes of hard exercise in a couple of steps, and that
she would always be talking during that whole time.

I asked her how it made her feel to talk non-stop for 30 minutes, and
she answered formally that it was hard to do that, but she now felt closer
to her Master than ever, that she wanted to be totally open to her Master –
she used the word “transparent” – and that she was looking forward to doing
it again. I disconnected her leash from the trainer, then led her the
length of the room, back and forth, 3 times to further cool down.
Occasionally, I would pat her on the head or scratch behind her ear and
say, “Good girl,” or “You’re such a good dog.” I wanted to see if that
annoyed her. In fact, she gave me a big grin every time – not like a good
dog, but like she was sharing the joke. That was the response I wanted to
see.

I led her to the weight bench, and attached her long leash to the rear
of the bench, as far as possible from any moving parts. She stood by and
watched while I showed her everything I wanted her to do. One at a time, I
configured the bench for biceps curl, triceps extension, leg extension, and
leg curl. I told her the initial goal was to put some meat on her thighs
and upper arms, because both had become a little bony since when she lost
weight. She looked at herself in the mirror, and nodded her head to
indicate she agreed with my assessment. I quickly pointed out to her that
she had made herself even more beautiful than she was when we first met,
which I would not have thought possible, but now she needed a few tweaks. I
looked at her and she gave me a big grin. I didn’t want to do anything to
make her doubt her beauty, first because it was beyond denying, and second
because I didn’t want to give her any more things to fret over.

I explained to her about sets and reps, showed her how to set the
weight, and told her to start with 10 pounds for the arm exercise, and 20
pounds for the leg exercises, and do 2 sets of 10 reps each. If she felt
any pain, even the slightest, she was to stop and tell me. Then I got up
and told her to do it. I silently watched her, only offering advice or
corrections to her form a few times. When she was finished I told her to
tell me in informal speech what she thought. She said that it felt really
good, but that she felt she could have used more weight. I told her that
the most important thing about weights is to move up slowly, and never
sacrifice form to lift heavier weight. I told her that until I was sure she
knew how to judge for herself, she would do this exactly as I directed.
Finally, I told her that she would do the elliptical exercises 3 times a
week, every other day, and do the weights on the days she didn’t do the
elliptical. Sundays she wouldn’t do either.

After removing her sneakers and socks, I told her to get off the bench,
attached her wrists together behind her back, disconnected her leash,
patted her on the head again, and said, “You’re off the leash, girl, get
your pretty ass over to the bars. I need it for something.” She laughed,
and covered the short distance to the bars in a few seconds. When she got
there, she positioned herself to facilitate her attachment and then assumed
the Waiting Pose. I walked over and attached her in the position she
remembered. Then I strolled down to the punishment area and selected the
lightest flog she had. I walked back, dropped the flog on the floor by her
feet, and stood behind her, caressing her ass and the back of her thighs.
She didn’t need to be told to keep her head up, she was looking at me with
a big smile, but I felt a slight tremble in her body.

I told her, “Before we begin, I’m going to ask you to tell me whether
you would prefer to be flogged before you’re fucked, or whether you would
prefer not to be flogged. When I give you permission to answer, you will
tell me, to the best of your ability, your true preference and your reason
for having that preference. If you want to be flogged because you still
feel you need to be punished for surviving when your family died, say so.
If you don’t want to be flogged because it will interfere with the pleasure
you feel while being fucked, say so. If you think you have a preference,
but you honestly don’t know why, say so. Whatever is in your mind, I want
you to say it. I’m not promising to give you your preference, and I’m not
promising to deny you your preference. But I do promise that I will
carefully evaluate your preference and your stated reason in making my
decision. Now I’m going to go take a piss, and you will give me your answer
when I return, when I tell you to. Nod your head if you understand what I
require from you.” She nodded her head.

I went to take a leak. When I came out of the Master’s toilet, I could
see that she still had her head up and was watching me in the mirror. I
went to the refrigerator, and poured a glass of cold water. I turned around
facing her, and watched her while I drank. I said, “Would the Slave like
some water?” She nodded her head, so I refilled the glass and returned to
her. I held the glass up to her mouth, saying while she drank. “It will be
a rare event when the Slave gets to drink like this in here.” When she had
all she wanted, I took the glass away from her mouth. She tilted her head
back as far as it would go, looked up into my eyes, and silently mouthed,
“Thank you.” I remembered the last time she had done that. I put the glass
on the floor then I bent down and gave her a long, passionate kiss on the
lips, which she greedily returned.

I walked around behind her again, picked up the flog and showed it to
her in the mirror. Now she was really trembling. I said, “Slave, state your
preference and your reason, now.” Without hesitation she said, “Master,
this Slave wants its Master to flog it and then fuck its ass, and then hold
it while it cries, because the Slave wants to relive what was happening to
it when it fell in love with its Master, Master.” I expected that answer,
she would always choose the hard road for herself if I let her. But given a
thousand years, I would not have guessed her reason. After a moment I said,
“Slave, I believe you,” and struck. As I was flogging her, I reminded her
that she was to look only at her own face, not at me, until we were
finished. It didn’t take long for the tears to start flowing, but her face
remained unchanged otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to tell she was in pain
without the tears.

Soon her breathing became fast, short gasps, but her face was still
stoic. She was trying to hold it all in until she was in my arms. When I
saw the uniform blush I wanted on her ass and thighs, I put the flog down,
quickly lubricated my erect cock, and plunged it into her ass. Her mouth
opened, farther than her usual lips-apart position, and she gasped. Slowly
a smile spread over her face. As I got into the rhythm of pounding her ass,
she had a huge orgasm. Jeez, I thought, we’re just getting started, pace
yourself, woman. The short version of the story is, for over ten minutes
she had one orgasm after another. I saw no reason to take it slow, she was
getting as much as she could get from this, whether I strung it out or
finished quickly. I let myself cum, then while my cock was still in her
ass, I leaned over her, laid my head on her back, cupped her breasts in my
hands, and said, “God, I love you. You’re going to kill me with sex.” She
came again while I was still bent over her. I looked in the mirror and she
was looking into my eyes, her face again expressionless. But she was
obviously close to exhaustion, I could see it in her eyes and the softening
of her features.

I pulled out and quickly wiped us off, then removed her from the bars
and put my arms around her. This time I was smart enough to leave her
wrists free, and she put her arms around me and squeezed me hard, then the
dam burst. She cried so hard she was having trouble breathing. Whenever she
could get enough breath to do it, she would say “I love you,” over and
over. Well, screw the formal speech, this was a moment. Finally her legs
buckled, she was too tired to stand up any longer. I scooped her up in my
arms and carried her the short distance to the couch. This couch had enough
room to do it, so I laid her down at the back of the cushions and stretched
out beside her, pressing my body against her. She was still crying hard and
saying she loved me, and I just held her and caressed her, and told her I
loved her, too.

We lay there for at least a half hour. By then she had calmed down, and
the tears were almost gone. She rolled up on top of me and I scooted
farther onto the couch to make sure I didn’t fall off and take her with me.
I couldn’t believe it, but I got another erection, I reached down and
guided it into her pussy. She smiled and said something like “Ahhhhh.” We
laid there unmoving for a few minutes, and my erection remained. She
started pumping her hips, then sat up straddling me, and started seriously
fucking me. I lay there and let her take control. She rode me until I came,
then dismounted and sucked my cock until I came again, and she still wasn’t
done, she was trying to get me hard again and starting to succeed. I
finally told her to stop, I couldn’t do this anymore right now. She
grinned, I was sure she would have given me some smart ass comment about
not being able to keep up with an inexperienced older woman if we had been
upstairs.

When I felt like I could stand up, I got off the couch and pulled her
up with me. I reattached her wrists behind her back and led her to the
exit. She obviously wanted to tell me something before we left, so I
commanded her to speak. She said that she had been promised a cold shower.
I told her that she was oversexed, she needed lots of cold showers, but
she had wasted her shower time trying to give me a heart attack on the
couch. Now what she was going to get was a soak in the whirlpool bath with
her Master. She laughed, and ran through the door when I opened it. I had
to yell at her not to run up the stairs with her hands locked behind her
back. I told her if she fell and knocked out her front teeth, she would be
too ugly for me, and then I would have to find another slave.

When we were in the mural room, I removed her bonds and told her to go
fill the tub with the hottest water she could stand, then get in. Then it
occurred to me that with instructions like that, she would probably give
herself third degree burns trying to please me, so I changed the command
and told her to fill the tub with the hottest water she thought her Master,
whose dick had been rubbed raw by his nympho sex slave, would find
comfortable. That got me a big smile, and I handed her the blouse and heels
and told her to take them with her. Either she just noticed, or she had
seen it before but couldn’t speak at the time, but she wanted to know what
the pager on the side of my belt was for. I told her that Philip had given
it to me, in case he needed to contact us while we were out walking this
afternoon. She said she was glad Philip and I were on the job together now.
I saw then that she knew exactly what was going on here, she probably knew
about the weapons, too. It would always be a mistake to assume she didn’t
understand what was happening around her.

I told her to get to the bathroom, and that if she had to use the
toilet she would wait until I was present. Then I wandered off to find
Philip. I told him we would be ready for lunch in about an hour, and asked
him to lay out cold plates and iced tea in the dining room, whatever food
he chose would be fine. He said it would be there in an hour. As I was
leaving, I told him I was sure Carrie knew more than he suspected, and that
we should consider levelling with her. I then went to join her in the bath.
On the way through the bedroom, I verified that he had moved the gun.

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13 thoughts on “Training Carrie, chapter 9

  1. Glad you responded, Appy! What a pity you didn't read them all. But you collected the story and that counts for something šŸ™‚

    I'm glad you're reading it now, chapter by chapter…
    Long chapters, LOL,

    Han

    Like

  2. Hi Han, thank you for the invitation. Now I am, thanks to you, reading the story again, I must admit that, although I kept the saved the story, I now realise I only read the first few chapters at the time. In those days I was very busy for the ANBO. I think I postponed reading and later forgot. So from chapter 7 it is new for me too.
    I like the way the story is developing. The love between Master and slave, I mean.
    Thanks for posting it. Fortunately niw I have more time. šŸ™‚

    appy

    Like

  3. Yes, you are missing something I think. Quote:
    “Then she started talking about how it made her feel when I
    commanded her, or even when I asked her to do something, which to her was also a command. She said she longed for the day when I would take her out in public to “strut her stuff,” to use her phrase, so she could humiliate herself publicly for her Master's pleasure, whenever and wherever he commanded.”

    She told him about her secret fantasies, how he would take her out and show her off, so she could show off how submissive she was to her Master. So it is she who is telling him she likes the humiliation.

    Did I make it any clearer?
    Han

    Like

  4. Ok, I just must ask.
    I don't understand.
    Why would it give him pleasure to humilated her publicly?
    Humiliated her?
    I thought he loves her and wanted protect her..

    Am I missing something?

    Mona Lisa

    Like

  5. You know Cat, the talking without pause for a certain amount of time is still in our “repertoire”. It is a strange but very effective way of talking. It is more easy for Wanita to do it blindfolded or in the corner position. She talks and like the story she usually begins with everyday things, but after a few minutes she talks about the things that really bother her. I do not respond and just listen. Afterwards the release is almost always in a good cry to release all those emotions that are penned up.

    So bits and pieces of the story we actually still use today…

    Glad you like it,
    Han

    Like

  6. Hey Appy,

    Please join us if you are comfortable with it, in the discussion of the chapters. No obligations, but I would appreciate it if you would.
    You are the only one who has read it before. And kept it. I cannot believe you kept it all these years..

    Only if you are comfortable with it,
    Han

    Like

  7. Almost my exact words I wrote many years ago to the writer… LOL. After reading the story I was more at ease with formal speech. “Fuck formal speech, this is the moment”, is more important to us than to stick with rules. The no barrier things, no secrets for each other even the most intimate like using the toilet, or changing tampons, ah yes, with no shame or guilt or whatever that does bring a closeness not many couples share.

    Remember me to tell you as the story continues how we did try to imitate parts of the story.

    Glad you like it,
    Han

    Like

  8. I agree with Abby…am becoming addicted to this story. Hope Master can help her heal and keep her from harming herself in her guilt.

    Hugs and blessings…Cat

    Like

  9. This story is becoming an addiction for me….very happy there are many more chapters yet to read.
    hugs abby

    Like

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