Cindy's Training Ch. 01

Ron did notice. He noticed the change in her from across the room and smiled inwardly. It wasn't just the blouse that caught his eye, it was the way she carried herself proudly. Progress, not perfection. That's the mantra that they had tried to instill in all the patients at the rehab he had gone to. And, even a year later, he still heard it regularly. His Domme mentor had warned him that Cindy might be a really difficult nut to crack, and he was beginning to believe her, but he was convinced that he was making progress. And Maria had cautioned them both to go slowly in exploring the lifestyle. He was willing to be patient; as patient as was required. As he watched Cindy stride confidently across the room he thought to himself, "She's certainly worth whatever effort it takes."

Cindy caught him watching her as she returned from the restroom. She let a smile spread across her face and her hips swayed just a little more than her normal walk. Nothing overtly sexual; just a hint of her interest. Her eyes lit up when she saw the tall glass of water at her place on their table. Seating herself gracefully, she nodded her thanks at his thoughtfulness before draining half the glass. Licking her lips, she puckered up and blew him a kiss. He grinned and recoiled his head as if her kiss had smacked him on the cheek. They shared a quiet laugh at their games. Holding her arms out in a dance position, she smiled broadly and tilted her head in her questioning manner. It took him a moment to understand what she was asking and then he laughed again.

"My high school basketball coach required everyone on the team to take ballroom dancing lessons. He claimed that it would improve our balance and footwork. I don't know if it was a factor or not, but we were his first team to make the state play-downs. Lost the first game, but, at least we got that far. And that got me an athletic scholarship to play roundball at State, where I destroyed my knee. Then, when I was in law school, I earned some spending money working in a local dance studio, teaching overweight, middle-aged housewives how to samba. The work wasn't difficult; the hardest part was keeping a straight face."

She chuckled at his comments and indulged herself in another tiny sip from the snifter. The taste was so strong and rich that she was certain that it had to be sinful. At least she wouldn't have to worry about her breath. Simultaneously noticing the musicians' return, they let a quick shared glance confirm their mutual desires. He reached out his hand and she was halfway out of her chair before she could reach it. They returned to the dance floor with three or four other couples as the trio got their instruments ready. This set began with a slow number and retained a mellow mood throughout. The dancers held each other close and moved easily with the music.

This is absolutely heavenly.

Cindy let her body melt into his arms. They swayed gracefully across the floor, gently moving against one another. He led her easily; she felt his rhythm in her core and responded to his every move. Her body longed for the touch of his thigh between hers. She let the romantic notes weave their spell and her legs responded to the primal urge. The seductive purr of the saxophone worked its magic inside her head. Part of her was vaguely aware that he was responding to the moment also. The bulge that had developed between their groins announced his arousal. Her temperature was creeping higher than earlier in the evening when they had been dancing to the faster tempo. A satisfied smile graced her face.

All too soon, the keyboard player announced that they would take a short break before they played the final set of the night. The dancers scattered to the bar or back to their tables and Ron and Cindy joined the flow. When they reached their table, he picked up her purse and handed it to her. Looking deep into her eyes just inches from her face, he whispered, "Pet, I want you to go into the ladies room, take off your panties and bring them back here and put them in my hand."

Cindy froze, a shocked look on her face. She had heard what he ordered her to do, but her mind wouldn't allow her to comprehend it. When he gently pushed her away from the table, she stumbled toward the restroom in a daze. Her legs carried her where she had been ordered to go while her mind struggled to come to grips with her instructions. The tears were beginning to flow as she slipped past the other women, pushed her way into the only unoccupied stall and sat down on the toilet. She fought to stay quiet so that the other women in the room wouldn't hear her distress. Looking down at the flimsy scrap of material and tiny straps draped around her ankles, she realized that he was demanding that she give up more than a mere piece of clothing. He expected her to voluntarily give up her dignity, her respect, her pride. She had never been in public without underwear in her life.

My mother never raised me to be this kind of woman. Why is he demanding this of me? How can I let him do this to me?

She struggled to let her reason control her runaway emotions. She knew all too well that to defy her Master meant she would be punished and there also was no doubt that tonight he was her Master. And, the Mexican bitch at Jack and Laura's had made it clear that if she refused to cooperate completely during her training, it could mean the end of it. She could lose him. She might be rejected and never allowed to see him again. Diana Krall's sultry voice came back to haunt her.

"All or Nothing at All." How fitting. I have no choice.

Cindy sat there, frozen, until she couldn't hear anyone else in the room. Slowly, she reached down to take off her brand new red thong. She had been so proud of herself for buying it for him, but never in her worst nightmare had she dreamt that she would have to give it up to him like this. Not that she hadn't planned on giving it up, she just never imagined doing in a public place. As she untangled the straps from around her feet, she suddenly realized that the tiny bit of material was soaking wet. Her heart stopped. She hadn't realized how aroused her body had become while they were dancing. She knew in the back of her mind that he had gotten hard, but she had been unaware of the level of her own need.

My God! If I do what he told me to do, he'll know! What will he think of me?

Desperately forcing herself to do as she was told, she wadded up the damp scrap in her hand. She wiped herself off and used another wad of toilet tissue to dry the swollen lips of her pussy. Easing open the door of the stall, she poked her head out to make sure that she was alone. At the sinks, she puzzled over what to do with her thong. She couldn't lay it out on the counter for anyone to walk in and see, so she reached for her purse, only to realize that she couldn't put it in there because of the musky smell it might leave on everything. Finally, she stuffed it between her thighs and held it there while she washed up and repaired the damage her tears had wrought on her make-up. Finally prepared as best she could, she retrieved her last shred of modesty and stepped shakily out of the door.

Ron had begun to worry. He had signed his bar chit so they wouldn't have that detail to take care of later and had chatted with one of his fellow lawyers at PH&J who had been sitting there. Frank was spending all too much of his time at the club lately. His wife had recently left him, taking their two younger children with her to another state and he couldn't stand to spend his evenings alone in their huge empty house. Fortunately, he was very careful about his drinking and actually seemed to be in fairly good spirits. He was the ideal person to help out and had readily agreed when Ron explained what he needed him to do. Frank worked in corporate and business tax law, so it was highly unlikely that Cindy had ever seen him in court and would recognize him. Now, Ron was wondering if maybe he had pushed her too far, too fast. He certainly didn't want to lose her.

He tried to conceal the relieved look on his face when she finally emerged from the ladies room. Her purse was in one hand and the other hand was balled up tightly in a fist. He smiled knowingly and offered her his arm. Hesitating momentarily, she finally accepted. They walked slowly back to the table and he held her chair for her to sit down. She tried to put on a brave face, but her smile looked forced. Sitting down across from her, he reached his hand across the table, palm up. She hesitated again before letting out a long sigh and placing her fist over his outstretched hand. Gradually uncurling her fingers, she pressed her thong into his palm and held her hand over his until he closed his fingers around her intimate offering.

Cindy hadn't given much thought as to what she expected him to do with her gift, but, even if she had, she probably would never have considered what she saw next. He opened his hand on the table in front of him and carefully arranged the tiny bit of material across his palm with the thin straps hanging down in all directions. She came perilously close to reaching across the table and snatching her dignity back only to be frozen by his sudden glance. As her heart plummeted, she dropped her balled up fists into her lap and lowered her eyes. She was praying for the floor to open up and swallow her.

While her eyes were averted, he took a careful glance around the room to make certain that no one was looking in their direction. Then he raised her thong up to his nose and made an exaggerated sniffing sound that he knew wouldn't carry much beyond their table. But, it had exactly the effect on her that he was hoping for. She looked up at him and her face dissolved into such a piteous look that his heart almost broke. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she seemed to almost shrink into her chair. Maria had warned him that being a Dom was not going to be easy. As he lowered his prize into his lap, he casually remarked, "You have the most delightful aroma, Pet."

Cindy was mortified. Never in her life had she known such humiliation. She felt so emotionally drained that she was certain she would never recover. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably. There was nothing left of her inside. When he pocketed her thong, offered her his other hand and asked, "Shall we enjoy what dancing there is left?" she took his hand and numbly rose to her feet. In a trance, she let him lead her to the dance floor and into his arms. While her mind struggled to cope with her plight, her body lost itself in his strength.

As he felt her body slowly relax against his, Ron held her close and tried to let his movements show her how much he cared. He desperately wanted to sit her down and explain what he was trying to do, but Maria had explicitly forbidden anything of the sort. Training a sub, she had insisted, was like training a small child. They had to learn by experiencing, not hearing. The little girl had to be stripped away and the submissive woman inside allowed to flower and grow. And some of the stripping would be very difficult and painful. Somehow, Ron believed what she had told him; Maria wasn't much older than he, but she certainly had more experience in the lifestyle than he did. So, he held Cindy close to him and wished her healed.

She tried to lose herself in his arms and the dance. Gradually, she calmed her nerves and regained some control of her emotions. She could clearly tell now that his cock was erect between them and she was shocked at how her body responded. Her nipples were so tight that they ached as they rubbed against his chest. Her hips tried to grind her overheated sex against his leg and she could feel the dampness on the insides of her thighs. Her mind realized that she had just been publicly humiliated and yet her body reacted completely differently. Trying desperately to reassure herself, she found herself resorting to the mantra from earlier in the evening: no doubts, no reservations. She kept repeating it silently to herself as they danced and gradually she managed to surrender to him and to the music. In her confusion, she didn't notice the subtle signal that Ron had given the man seated at the bar.

"May I cut in?"

The man's deep voice behind her froze the blood in her veins. She involuntarily clutched Ron tighter to her and tried to convince herself that she hadn't heard anything. Praying desperately that Ron wouldn't give her up to a stranger in the pitiful condition she was in, she none the less resigned herself to her fate.

No doubts, no reservations. No doubts, no reservations. God help me.

"Why, certainly," she heard her partner answer and then he whispered in her ear, "make me proud, Pet."

He gently turned her into the arms of an older, casually dressed gentleman. Her tense body was eased into the other man's arms and he stepped off to lead her into the next slow song. Her mind hesitated, but her body did not. She looked up at him as he skillfully guided her slowly across the floor. She noticed pleasant blue eyes set in the face of a man about her mother's age. She also noted that his eyes were looking directly into hers rather than down the front of her indecent blouse. His hand was on her back at her waist. But she also noted that the decent separation that he maintained between their bodies allowed the cool air to slip up under her skirt and tickle the bare lips of her sex.

My God, what does he think of me? What do I do if he asks me a question? Am I allowed to speak to him?

As her exhausted mind raced, struggling with her doubts and fears, she hardly noticed that her body gradually moved closer to his until they touched. Her aching swollen nipples found comfort against his chest and her belly found its way against his. She lowered her head onto his shoulder, her confused mind trying to reassure her that everything would be all right while her body found its way back into the rhythm of the dance. He held her to him gently, his lead firm and sure with just enough pressure to guide her along. Her mind was just beginning to relax when she felt the bulge in his pants.

Oh, no! He's becoming aroused. What do I do now? Help me, Ron! This is all your fault!

The next time her partner turned them so she could see out into the room, she looked to their table to plead with Ron for rescue. She trusted him to be there for her, but, when she looked to their table, it was empty. Cindy began to panic, or at least her mind did. Her body seemingly had given up trying to keep up with her constant mood swings and moved sensually with his. She found herself back to silently repeating, "No doubts, no reservations." Ron had told her to make him proud. She had no idea what he meant, but she knew it did mean not acting like a screaming idiot.

At the moment of her desperation, Ron was in the men's room, struggling to calm his raging erection so that he could empty his bladder. While he sat on the commode and willed the built up pressure away, he called his sponsor to check in and let Jack know where he was and what they were doing. Jack had helped Ron tremendously since he had completed rehab and moved back home to help his older sisters care for his invalid mother. In the first few months, Ron had resented having to call Jack daily, but, as he had grown in sobriety, he came to realize that their daily sharing was beneficial for both of them.

Ron now looked forward to a quick chat with his sponsor and, for the first time in his life, he felt free to discuss almost anything with another person. Jack had turned out to be a great listener, but he was hopelessly vanilla and had great difficulty understanding the lifestyle. Ron had resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't expect his AA sponsor to understand D/s any more than he could expect his non-drinking family to understand why he hadn't been able to stop getting drunk. They wrapped up their call and Ron finished his business. Pulling up his pants, he noticed that there were damp spots on the inside of his underwear in more than one location.

The trio wound up its performance and took their bows to an enthusiastic round of applause. After they finished their clapping, Cindy's partner casually took her by the elbow and guided her back across the room. She glanced up to see her Master at the table and wondered momentarily if she had imagined his absence earlier. He arose as they approached and pulled out her chair for her. Before she could sit down, he asked, "Did you thank the gentleman?"

She responded by shaking her head and turned back to the man holding her arm. "Thank you very much", she said quietly, trying to put some feeling into her words.

"My pleasure entirely. You are a very charming dancer. I hope to see you back here at the club often."

He gave her a half bow, turned on his heel and headed back toward the bar. As she sat down, Cindy struggled to discern any hidden meaning behind his comments, but her overtaxed mind was hardly up to the task. There were too many conflicting emotions raging through her psyche to comprehend what he might have insinuated. He seemed like a nice man, but his remarks could be interpreted in a number of ways. His arousal while they were dancing, on the other hand, could not. Ron sat back down and studied the confused look on her face.

"Good girl, Pet. I'm proud of you."

Cindy felt a warm flush steal up her chest and spread across her face. Somehow, praise coming from him made everything seem right in her world; she even managed a wan smile. Gradually she came to realize just how physically and emotionally exhausted she was.

"You look tired, Pet. Are you ready to go home?"

Cindy weakly nodded her head and picked up her purse. He started to get up, but stopped when she held up her hand. Slowly rising from her seat, she headed for the ladies room to freshen up for the ride home. Sitting down on the toilet reminded her of her nakedness under her skirt as well as her musky scent. After she emptied out, she wiped her swollen, sensitive pussy and then mopped up the sticky juices that had spread down the insides of both her thighs.

What is wrong with me? I haven't been this wet in ages.

Ron rose from his chair to meet her when she returned and escorted her out of the lounge on his arm. She leaned her head to rest against his shoulder and her hip brushed against his with each step as they walked out of the clubhouse into the muggy summer air. He opened the door for her when they reached the Mini and, while she fastened herself in, he started the car and put the top and the windows down. Once he had himself situated, he reached down and pressed the button to recline her seat for her.

In the back of her mind she noticed the riot of stars overhead that wove their way in and out of the leaves of the trees as he drove along the drive. But Cindy's mind was more absorbed with her predicament. When she had been growing up, her family had never had the money to even look through the gates of a club as nice as this, let alone be a member of it. Now, her Master was not only a member, but he must attend fairly regularly from the way the staff greeted him by name. She so desperately wanted to be a part of his life here, but how could she ever show her face in the club again?

Who knows how many people saw what he did? And which ones? How will I ever know whether the person I'm talking to at the club knows that I took my panties off in the lounge or not? What must they think of me?

As the star patterns overhead twisted and turned with the movements of the car, Cindy was absorbed in trying to figure out how she could handle any future situation. Would she forever be looking for a knowing smirk or remark to let her know that the other person knew of her shame? Would they even allow her back? What would she do if the nasty Maitre d' were to inform Ron the next time they went for dinner that she was not welcome? A tear formed in the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. She was still struggling with her options when they arrived back at her apartment complex. He again parked behind her cruiser and put up the top.