Training Carrie, chapter 32

novel by Jay West

Training Carrie by Her Master

by Jay West

Chapter 32 

     After installing Carrie in her Slave bed and putting her ass support in
place, I stood by her headrest and looked at her breasts. Even though she
was lying on her back, the breasts were still held in a nearly spherical
shape by the constricting ropes. I knew better than to ask her if the ropes
were too tight or if they were starting to cause her pain. I watched her
face as I caressed the breasts, and judged from her reaction that she was
feeling more pleasure than pain.

    Her nipples were another story. She winced when I touched either one. I
asked if her nipples were too tender for me to stimulate while we fucked.
“They are pretty sore, Master,” she replied, “but your Slave loves to have
its nipples rubbed and squeezed while its pussy is being fucked. Please
don’t ignore your Slave’s nipples tonight.” I told her that once again I
would grant her request for pain, even though I doubted it was the best
thing for her. She apologized again for being so selfish and self-centred.
I told her I loved her, I knew she loved me, and I didn’t want to hear any
more apologies. She asked me to kiss her, which I did for a long time. Then
I told her I was going to fuck her.

    Standing between her legs, I withdrew the vibrator from her pussy and
slowly inserted it into her ass. I eased my stiff cock into her pussy and
began fucking her. Reaching up to her bound breasts with my hands, I began
caressing the breasts and stimulating her nipples with my fingers. I had
raised her headrest so I could see her face behind the twin mountains of
her bound breasts. She was smiling at me, and when our eyes met she said
she was very happy and very much in love.

    After some time I felt myself nearing orgasm. I stopped thrusting into
Carrie’s pussy, then bent over and rested my weight on her belly and
stomach. Maintaining eye contact with her, I said, “Come, Carrie, as many
times as you want to.”

    “For you, Master,” she said, while having the first of many strong
orgasms. I came with her, and kept coming past the point I would have
thought possible. Finally I was exhausted, and lowered my head to rest it
on her chest. She asked me if I was ready to stop. I told her I would pull
out of her if she wanted to continue, but I had to stop. She immediately
stopped, saying “Everything is going to be for you from now on, Master.
Your Slave has been pursuing its own pleasure and pain at the expense of
serving its Master, and tonight that stops.”

    As I reached down and switched off the vibrator in her ass, I told her,
“I need to know what you want, Carrie. Your needs and wishes will always be
considered, so don’t stop telling me what you think and what you want to
do. Just understand that you will not always get your wishes. A Slave must
not expect to have its every wish and desire fulfilled, but a Slave who is
loved and cherished as you are will not be disappointed often. But I expect
to see evidence that you are trying to regulate your desire for pain. Do
you understand that?”

    “Yes, Master,” she replied. “Please help me become more aware of these
tendencies in myself. Tell me when it seems I am asking for pain.” I agreed
that we would work together to help her become more conscious of her
motivations.

    I asked Carrie if she was ready to be removed from her slave bed. “May
your Slave sleep here tonight, Master?” she asked. I said she could, and I
would sleep on the couch. “Please, Master, you go upstairs and get a good
night’s sleep in our bed. Your Slave will be fine here for tonight.”

    “First of all, Carrie, you and I are never going to sleep in separate
rooms. Secondly, I am not going to put you in a position where you will
wake up alone and constrained. We both know what effect that will have on
you, and I won’t allow it. If you want to sleep here tonight, I will sleep
on the couch.”

    “Where would my Master prefer sleeping, on the couch or in our bed?”
she asked. I told her I preferred our bed. “Then your Slave is ready to be
removed from its slave bed and taken upstairs to our bed, Master.” I
smiled, remembering her promise that she would consider me first from now
on. A good first step.

    After removing her from the bed, I started to remove the rope from her
breasts. She asked if I would leave them on a little longer. I asked her if
this was another request for additional pain. “They are starting to hurt,
Master. But I asked you to leave my breasts tied because I want to feel you
soaping and lathering them in the shower upstairs. I think it would feel
great.” I laughed, and said she was probably right that it would feel
great. The ropes would be removed in the shower, after her breasts were
thoroughly soaped and massaged. Grinning, she kissed me.

    Upstairs, after Carrie’s bonds had been removed, I checked the time. It
was only 9:00 PM, a little early for bed. I told her we had time to give
her an enema, and she immediately knelt at the toilet to receive it. A few
minutes later she was sitting on the toilet, waiting for permission to
expel the enema, and I was kissing and caressing her tied breasts.

    Touching her nipples, I asked Carrie how sore they were. She said they
were still sore, and admitted she should not have tied the dental floss so
tightly this afternoon. I kissed her and said she was right, but I
shouldn’t have kept her in training as long as I did, knowing she was in
pain. She asked if this meant her training would have to be stopped for
awhile. I told her we would see if we could have a training session
tomorrow afternoon, using the nipple clips instead of floss. She agreed
that the pain should be less with the clips, and said she would like to
continue her training tomorrow if it was possible.

    Leaving her on the toilet, I went to the kitchen. Returning with a
bottle of wine and one glass, I filled the glass and offered Carrie the
first sip. “This seems strange, Master,” she said, “sitting on the toilet
with my breasts tied tightly, waiting for permission to expel my enema, and
sipping wine.” I told her if she felt strange sitting, she had permission
to stand. That caused her to laugh so hard she spilled a little wine on the
floor.

    Still laughing, she asked me if I wanted her to lick up her spill. I
took the glass from her, and said that was a fine idea, to please do so.
With a surprised look, she said, “I was only kidding, Master. Do you really
want me to lick up the wine from the bathroom floor? I could just as easily
wipe it up with toilet paper.” I told her she had licked up worse-tasting
things than wine, and asked her to please obey my command now.

    Carrie immediately got off the toilet and knelt by the spill. Crossing
her wrists behind her back, she bent her head to the floor and licked up
every trace of the wine. When she straightened up, I inspected her work and
told her I was pleased, and she could sit down. When she was on the toilet
again, I handed her the wine, and she took another sip. I sat on the edge
of the tub, and we chatted while sharing the wine.

    When we had emptied the glass, I got up to refill it. While I was
pouring, I told her she could expel her enema now. She thanked me as she
started releasing the fluid from her bowels. She was still at it when I
handed her back the wine. She grinned at me and took another sip. When she
had finished on the toilet, she held my cock while I urinated. Then I
watched her use the bidet. I told her it was shower time, and she grinned
and looked down at her breasts. “Lots of soap and massaging, please
Master?” she pleaded. I told her that was the idea, and had her adjust the
water to her liking.

    In the shower, I first washed her hair, then I told her she would have
to earn her breast massage by washing her Master. I expected she would wash
me as fast as she could, but she lingered over the job. When she was
finished, my dick was rock hard and aching for her body. I took the soap
and sponge from her, and started washing at her feet. Slowly progressing up
her body, I lingered for a long time on her pussy and ass. When I had
finally worked my way up to her breasts, I instead moved my attentions to
her face and neck, then thoroughly washed her arms and back. Teasing, I
told her to rinse off, we were finished. “I think Master has overlooked a
part of his Slave’s anatomy,” she said. I expressed surprise, and began
slowly soaping and rubbing her breasts. When I had finished with the actual
bathing, I threw down the sponge and let my fingers do the walking.

    Turning her away from the shower head, I temporarily bent her over at
the waist and put my cock into her ass. Then I stood her up and told her to
put her arms back, hold me by the waist, and keep us pulled tightly
together. With my hands I began deeply massaging her breasts, especially
her nipple area. She started coming immediately, and she threw her head
back on my shoulder so we could kiss. Slowly I began working my cock in and
out of her ass. I could feel the muscles around her asshole pulsating as
she came, and within a minute I began matching her with my own orgasms. We
kept that up for about ten minutes, then she broke our kisses long enough
to ask me to remove the ropes and then continue the massage.

    It took me a minute to untie the wet rope where I had knotted it at the
back of her neck. Then I carefully unwound it from her breasts. There were
some ugly red rope marks around the base of each breast, but the skin was
unbroken. I told her the marks would have largely disappeared by morning.
Soaping her breasts again, I continued the massage as we resumed fucking
and coming together. I asked her how her breasts felt, and she said it was
wonderful, and asked me to massage her even harder. I refused to do that,
because I didn’t want to leave her bruised.

    I don’t know how long we kept at it, but I was starting to feel very
tired. Finally Carrie stopped kissing me and said, “Master, I think we
should stop soon. May I please suck your cock before we leave the shower?”
I told her to go ahead, and pulled out of her ass. She turned around,
thanked me, and gave me a long, romantic kiss. Then she knelt, took my cock
in her mouth, and swallowed it. She kept my cock down her throat until I
came one last time. I don’t know how long that took, but it was at least a
minute. Then she slowly slid me out of her throat, and began gasping for
air with her mouth open around my cock. Even as she was trying to catch her
breath, she was cleaning me off with her tongue.

    When she was finished cleaning me, and my cock had finally gone limp,
she still didn’t take her mouth off of me. She put her arms around my upper
legs and hugged me tight, kissing the base of my cock while she gently used
her tongue on the shaft and head. I finally asked her to stand up, which
she immediately did. Looking me in the eyes, she simply said, “I love you.”
We hugged and kissed for another minute under the shower, then I
reluctantly turned off the water and led Carrie from the shower.

    We dried each other and I combed out Carrie’s hair, then we took the
wine into the bedroom and cuddled in a chair. We were both satiated
temporarily, so by unspoken agreement we just sipped wine and talked about
our day. There was kissing and caressing, but mostly we wanted to be
together and share our thoughts. Carrie said she was amazed that she always
wanted to be by my side, because even though she loved her husband and son,
there were times when she longed to get away from both of them for a few
hours and be by herself. She and I, on the other hand, had scarcely been
out of sight of one another for weeks. Yet every time we found ourselves in
different rooms of the house, she would wonder when I was coming back to
her. I told her I shared that feeling. I had never craved the company of
other people, yet I start to miss her as soon as I leave her presence.

    After finishing the wine and then brushing and flossing one another, we
went to bed and fell asleep immediately, snuggled together like spoons.

    I woke up to find Carrie getting out of bed. “What’s wrong?” I asked
her.

    “Nothing, Master, I need to pee,” was her answer. I got out of bed and
followed her into the bathroom. Kneeling in front of her, I took her hands
in mine and kissed her. Then I kissed her nipples, getting two happy sighs.
I asked her if they were still sore. “I haven’t touched them, Master,” she
answered, “that’s your job.” I rubbed my fingers over her nipples, then
rolled each one between a thumb and forefinger. “Very sensitive, but not
painful, Master,” she said with a smile. I examined her breasts for traces
of the rope marks, and found only one faint mark below her right breast. I
told her she was good to go. “But am I good to fuck?” she asked with a
grin.  I told her I would answer that with a demonstration, as soon as she
let me take my turn peeing.

    Later, after I had given her demonstrations in her pussy and her ass,
she was giving me an oral demonstration. I expected she would stop when
Philip opened the bedroom door, but she surprised me. Philip was startled
by what he saw, but managed a Good Morning to both of us. I answered in
kind, but Carrie merely waved her hand in his direction. She had been
holding me on the edge of orgasm for about 10 minutes, and now she stepped
up her efforts. I knew she wanted to make me moan with Philip in the room,
and that’s exactly what she did. When she got her moan, she managed a grin
with my cock in her mouth, and then reduced her stimulation. That got
another moan from me and another grin from her. “You play me like a
violin,” I told her.

    Philip was staring at us. Usually he took in stride whatever he saw
when he came into the bedroom. But this time he was entranced by what we
were doing. I wondered if he ever got a blowjob from Beverly, and concluded
it was unlikely. After a few seconds, Philip snapped out of his trance and
resumed his normal composure. He was holding a package, which he left on
the table. He said it had arrived Saturday morning, then said breakfast
would be ready at 8:00. Carrie waved at him again, and extracted another
moan from me. Philip closed the door.

    Carrie kept me on the edge for another 10 minutes, until finally I told
her to cum. When she obeyed, I came too. She continued to gently play with
my cock in her mouth for another few minutes. Finally she sat up, looked
around, and asked “Was somebody here?” At first I didn’t know she was
joking, and I gave her a questioning look. Then she laughed, and lay down
on top of me. I told her she should have looked at Philip, the expression
on his face was hilarious. With a wicked grin, she said, “I was busy tuning
my violin.”

    We got out of bed and opened the package Philip had left for us. It
contained the vibrators and skin dyes we had ordered. I looked at Carrie,
and asked her if she was still willing to let me change the colour of parts
of her body. She lowered her eyes, and said her body was the property of
her Master, to use as he pleased. I took that to mean she had reservations,
we needed to talk more about it before I used the dyes on her.

    After a quick shower with minimal groping, I blow-dried Carrie’s hair.
Then I got dressed, leaving her naked for the time being. After looking
through her clothes for a few minutes, I decided she would dress
conservatively today, at least to start with. I pulled out a short skirt
and an attractive blouse, and put them on her. She was surprised, and asked
why I put her in a blouse that wasn’t sheer, and why I wanted her breasts
covered. I repeated what I had told her before, that she looked good to me
naked or dressed, and I liked the variety of seeing her in various states
of dress and undress. I picked out a pair of medium-heeled shoes for her,
then stood her in front of the mirror. “What’s not to like?” I asked her.
She admitted that, if she wasn’t so straight, she could go for something
that looked like that.

    We walked hand in hand to the dining room, where our breakfast was
ready on the table. With a sly grin, Carrie said she wanted to say Good
Morning to Philip before we ate, so we walked into the kitchen. She walked
up to Philip and kissed him on the cheek. “I just wanted to say Good
Morning to you, Philip,” she said with a big smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t
speak to you in the bedroom, I was busy tuning my violin.” She put her arm
around me as she said that last part. I smiled at Philip, and said that
Carrie was feeling a little mischievous this morning. “Not mischievous,
Master, happy,” she said. She held up her left hand, and said, “Look
Philip, I got married this weekend. We made home movies, we’ll show them to
you sometime.”

    Philip didn’t know how to respond to that, he looked at me for an
explanation. I held up my left hand, showing him my ring, and shrugged.
Looking at Carrie, I said, “Honey, I don’t think Philip would be interested
in watching any movies we made downstairs.”

    Philip realized that Carrie was teasing him, but he didn’t mind. First
he complemented her on how nicely she was dressed. Then he told her it was
obvious that she was happy, and he was pleased to see that. She hugged him,
and said, “I am happy, Philip. I never dreamed I could be this happy. My
Master has changed my life, I’ll love and serve him forever.” With his arms
around Carrie, Philip looked at me and smiled. I told Carrie we should stop
harassing Philip and go eat breakfast. Still smiling, Philip said we could
harass him any time we pleased.

    In the dining room, I watched Carrie as she raised her skirt to sit
down. I told her I was happy she remembered to do that. “I could never
forget to do that, Master,” she said. “Each time I perform that simple
action, raising my skirt to sit, I’m reminded that I’m your submissive
Slave. I love doing it, and I love having you watch me do it. I still long
to do it for you in public.” I told her I was still trying to think of a
way for us to get out of here for awhile, to be patient.

    While we were eating, I asked her what her concerns were about the skin
dyes. She repeated what she had said earlier, that I could use her body as
I chose. “That’s my Slave’s answer,” I said, “now tell me Carrie’s answer.”
She said she was all for doing it if the result was pleasing to me, but she
was concerned that I wouldn’t like the result and there wouldn’t be
anything we could do about it. She also said she was concerned that she
might have an allergic reaction to the dyes, or they might even poison her.
I said those were all legitimate concerns, except that I if we didn’t like
the results I would in no way blame her for that. She said she knew I
wouldn’t blame her, but she couldn’t stand the idea of looking ugly or
ridiculous to me. I took her hand and told her it was not possible for me
to ever regard her as ugly or ridiculous.

    When breakfast was finished, I took Carrie to the bedroom. I opened one
of the skin dye packages and took out the instruction leaflet. I handed it
to her and told her to read it thoroughly, then I opened another package,
took out its leaflet, and began reading. I was pleased to see that the dyes
were non-allergenic and FDA approved – at least according to the
manufacturer. The instructions said that the dye should be reapplied
approximately every two weeks to maintain the desired colour, implying that
the colour would fade away in a matter of weeks. Applying it seemed easy,
just clean the area with alcohol then apply the dye paste with a cotton
swab or gauze pad. Remove the paste after 10 to 30 minutes, longer times
result in darker colour.

    When we had both finished reading the instructions, we compared notes.
We had reached the same conclusions about what we read, and Carrie said she
felt better about trying it. She asked what I wanted to do. I told her I
would like to dye her nipples and areolae dark brown. she asked about her
pussy, and I said we should limit our experiment to the breasts first. If
we agreed that we liked that, we could discuss other areas. She said she
would go and get the alcohol and cotton swabs.

    When she returned from the bathroom with the alcohol and swabs, I had
her strip and stand in front of the mirror. I told her to look at her
breasts and try to imagine how she would look with her pink areolae and
nipples being dark brown. Then I reminded her what I had said previously,
that this was nothing but an experiment with make-up. It was not a sign that
I was displeased with her body or wished to make any permanent changes to
her body. I assured her that no possible outcome of this test would make me
think she was less than beautiful, but she had to have the last word. If
she didn’t want to do it, we wouldn’t.

    She looked at herself for several seconds, then turned and smiled at
me. She said we should do it, it would be fun to look different for awhile.
I kissed her and told her to lie down on her back. While I was swabbing her
with the alcohol, she said it was cold. Smiling, I blew on her nipples to
make them feel even colder. Then she said she was getting turned on, and I
told her she could cum if she wished. “I’ll wait until I see the final
result,” she said, “then I’ll either cum or cry.” I looked at her, and saw
she was making a joke.

    When the alcohol was dry, I opened the tube of brown dye. I looked at
Carrie and told her this was the last chance to change her mind, and that I
didn’t want her to do it if she had doubts. She said she had doubts, but
she wanted to go ahead anyway. I carefully applied the paste to each
breast, taking great care to exactly match the existing outline of her
areolae. When I had finished, I jokingly asked her if she wanted me to
write any messages on her breasts using the dye. “How about ‘property of my
Master’?” she asked with a smile. I suggested “left” and “right,” then she
suggested “1” and “2.” We both laughed.

    I told her she had to lie still and not touch her breasts for 30
minutes. I offered the services of my lips and tongue in her pussy to help
her pass the time, and she eagerly agreed. During the 30 minutes, I
realized she was serious about not coming until she saw the results.
Although she was moaning and offering encouragement to my efforts, she
never came.

    When time was up, I used gauze pads to wipe off the dye paste, being
careful to keep it off of the undyed areas of her breasts. Then I got a
damp wash cloth from the bathroom and cleaned her breasts. I was pleased to
see that there was no brown colour on the wash cloth after I cleaned her off.
I was also very pleased with the results. Where she was a very light pink
before, she was now very dark brown, even darker than I had imagined she
would be. Stunning, I thought.

    I refused to tell her how I liked her new look, instead I made her
close her eyes while I led her to the mirror. Standing behind her with my
hands on her shoulders, I told her to open her eyes and look at her new
breasts. She did, and her mouth dropped open. She came hard, and tears
formed in her eyes. “They’re beautiful,” she said.

    “You’re beautiful,” I told her, “and you’re the same person you were 30
minutes ago. You were beautiful before, and you’re beautiful now. This is
no different than trying a different shade of lipstick. Thank you for
taking a chance.”

    She tore her eyes away from her breasts in the mirror, and met my gaze.
“Thank you, Master, for thinking of this. It’s great, I love the result,
and I love you.” I asked her if I could be the first to kiss her new
breasts. She turned around and hugged me. “The first, last, and only lips
that will ever touch these babies are yours, my Master. Have your way with
them.” I kissed her lips, then thoroughly kissed each nipple and areola.

    “I’m happy to report that they taste as sweet as ever,” I told her. She
laughed, and said that’s something we hadn’t even thought of, that the dye
might change the way her skin tasted. She asked if I would like to road
test her new breasts in bed, to make sure they still work well with the
older parts of her body. “Later,” I replied with a laugh. “Right now its
time for your workout. May I lead you by your new nipples to the spare
bedroom?” She stuck her breasts out at me and told me to lead away.

    When we arrived in the spare bedroom, Carrie started putting on her
workout shoes and socks. I went to get something from the guest room, and
when I came back she was in the Waiting Pose. I told her to raise her arms.
As I slipped one of her athletic bras over her arms and head, I said, “This
might seem strange, to put a bra on you and cover up your beautiful new
brown breasts. Even though I love to watch your breasts bounce on the
elliptical trainer, I know that’s bad for you in the long run, so starting
today you will wear a sports bra during your workouts.” Once I had it on
her, I told her to adjust it while telling me what she was doing and why.
She did, and when she was finished I said, “Now take it off.” She was
confused, but did as she was told. When she handed me the bra I put it back
on her and adjusted it myself. “How does it feel?” I asked her. Smiling at
me, she said it was perfect.

    I told her to start her warm-up exercise, and sat in my usual spot at
the front of the elliptical machine. We watched each other and smiled as
she warmed up. I told her when 5 minutes had gone by, and she hopped off
and did her stretches. When she was back on the machine, I told her I
wanted to hear all she had to say about pain. I hadn’t expected to hear
anything useful from her the first time she talked about her masochism, I
just wanted us to talk about it openly, as a first step in understanding
it. She still thought her need for pain was a personal failure on her part,
because she was unable to be what her Master wanted her to be. I wanted her
to start thinking of it as a challenge we would deal with together. I also had an idea for giving her what she needed without harming her. I resolved to try it.

    When her 45 minutes were finished, she was still covering new material,
a good sign that she had a lot to talk about. I told her she had made a
good start in explaining her needs to me, and she should begin her cool down
now. She asked if she could keep talking, and I allowed it. When the
5-minute cool down was finished, I told her to take off her bra and do her
stretches. Then we went outside and walked around the house 3 times to
finish her cool down.

    When we returned to the house, I took Carrie to the bedroom. Putting a
chair in front of the mirror for her to bend over and hold on to, I spanked
her thoroughly until the first sign of tears, then fucked her in the ass. I
spent a lot of time caressing her breasts, but I also left them uncovered
for her inspection part of the time. When her areolae were visible, she
couldn’t take her eyes off of them. She kept thanking me for dyeing them a
darker shade. She said they looked a lot sexier to her, and wanted to know
my honest opinion about the change. I told her the change really turned me
on, but I didn’t want her to think she was more attractive to me now than
she was before. “I know you love me and accept my appearance as I was
before and as I am now, Master,” she told me. “But I think I look prettier
and sexier now than I did before. I want to keep them this colour, and maybe
even darken them some more.” I told her we weren’t going to make any
decisions about further dyeing until some time had passed, to make sure she
didn’t develop skin problems or get sick from today’s dyeing. She agreed
that was a smart decision.

    When we tired of fucking, Carrie said she wanted to go and show Philip
her new boobs. I refused, telling her that she shouldn’t put Philip in that
position. I reminded her that Philip was like a father to her, and assured
her that fathers don’t want to discuss such things as nipple colour with
their daughters. She reluctantly agreed.

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6 thoughts on “Training Carrie, chapter 32

  1. Mmmm, it's his fantasy slightly coloured girls, Mona Lisa. It is a nice chapter again, don't you agree? A few nice chapters coming up…

    Thank you for reading and your comment, as ever,
    Han

    Like

  2. LOL. I happened to Wanita and myself when we read it for the first time… You can just pick out the elements you like… And so we did and so do you now.

    I love it.

    Han

    Like

  3. In the whole story I think Philip is the most unbalanced one. There are many choices the writer could do with Philip from the silent watcher or even voyeur to an accomplice. To a father figure, watching over her. In the story he is all and therefore none. It's a wasted chance.

    I don't think Bill is thinking being a masochist is bad, Cat. He has been working in the syndicate for too long to think that.

    Thank you for reading and your comments, as ever,
    Han

    Like

  4. Thanks Han…..i have been finding all sorts of new ideas to discuss with Master from reading…..He now asks for a daily report…
    hugs abby

    Like

  5. I enjoy their interaction but hope he doesn't convince her that being a masochist is bad…nothing wrong with it. Thanks for sharing Han.

    Hugs and blessings…Cat

    Like

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