Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 07

Jane walked into the room and stood beside him. She was used to this from when she served Margaret. He turned to face her, looking stern. It was imperative she please him, from fear of being sent back to Margaret, or sent away without anywhere to go. Worse still, he might sell her to a stranger. She could end up anywhere, with anyone! He was a decent man, prepared to look after her, whereas another master might mistreat her.

She tried to dismiss the improbable idea, especially as it was stoking her up. She realised her arousal was the reason she was considering the preposterous idea of being sold as a slave. She just couldn't help it. It had been a favourite fantasy, and here she was living the bath-time dream. Though it wasn't quite like her daydreams, it was real.

'Have you finished your chores, slave?' he asked.

'Yes, master,' she smartly responded. He was thinking of something for her to do. Before he sent her away on some errand, she made an offer, 'May slave, dust this room, master,' she asked.

'Err, sure,' he agreed, figuring it would keep her busy.

He studiously ignored her, for a short while. He glanced up to see her stretching to reach the top shelves of a book case. Stocking tops were on view, with a glimpse of that cute ass, just the bottom quarter moons. It was a tantalising sight. She bent to pick up something, showing off everything. Again, he marvelled at the bulge between her thighs. Even before she became aroused, her lips were large and fleshy.

The white panties were nothing more than a purse between her thighs, with nothing covering her bottom. He reminded himself she needed to learn discipline, and self-control. Maybe that bare bottom needed spanking. There were other means of instilling restraint, and patience. Making her wait for what she wanted, was looking like a non-starter.

He watched her bending and stretching all over the room. Putting books back on shelves, picking up abandoned notes, putting magazines in the rack. She seemed to be very interested in straightening pictures, and the arrangement of his golf trophies.

He quickly looked down to the page he had been studying, when she approached.

'May your slave take her place at masters feet?' she casually asked.

Unsure what the she had said, he nevertheless nodded his head. He watched her get down on the floor and crawl under the desk. This was playing the slave game too far. He was worried she had been driven mad, and might be dangerous. He sat quit still.

He watched her unzip his trousers, and deftly pull out his cock. It didn't take much effort, as it sprung out, erect and eager to play. He watched as she extravagantly licked her lips, then kiss the head of his cock. Her head leaned forward, for another kiss, this time sucking on it, while handling his sack.

He didn't ward her off, or even complain. Watching her clean the room had him wanting her. The way the hem bounced up and down when she was polishing, bent over a low table, was tantalising. It was the expectation of what was there, rather than what could be seen.

She stopped with the head of his cock between her lips. Her eyes were wide with expectation. It looked as though she were waiting for permission for something. Whatever it was, she could do it, anything she liked. He intently watched her mouth engulf his hard-on. Her full moist lips unhurriedly slid down its length, inch by inch. Their eyes were locked, with her impressing upon him a single thought.

She seemed to be saying, "Slave is here for your pleasure, master." She continued the long journey down to the base of his cock, swallowing it all. He needed her to speed up, but the journey continued slowly, almost painfully slow and deliberate.

Not thinking he could possibly orgasm for a long time after last night, it was a surprise to be nearly there. She stopped, with just the head of his cock lightly poised between her lips. She looked up at him expectantly. She let go.

'Please master, slave needs master to fill her cunt,' she begged.

On hands and knees, she looked every bit the dutiful sex slave, begging to be fucked. He was annoyed from being manipulated so easily, and needed her to complete his need.

'Later, slave. Finish off your master,' he ordered.

He justified the harshness in his voice by reasoning she needed to learn patience.

Reluctantly she sucked his cock into her mouth, and began to bob her head back and forth, up and down his rod of iron. The faster piston like action, with increased suction, soon had him spurting his cum down her throat.

The first time Mark did this in her mouth, it made her retch. She became used to the taste, though with him, she could tease him back to readiness. It meant a much longer session, before he cum in her cunt. It was a strange sensation, feeling his sperm pumping directly into her belly. At least like this, she didn't taste it. It was also a satisfaction that Mark had prepared her, yet he wasn't reaping the reward.

It was frustrating knowing she would have to wait for some time, before he would be ready to satisfy her. She really did need sex, and to feel his cock inside, ramming home into her cunt. At that moment she missed Mark's youthful exuberance and stamina.

Bob sat back in the chair with eyes tightly closed. His slave had licked him clean, and put away his flaccid member. He looked at the desk, wondering how it would be to have her like this at committee meetings. He imagined her shuffling around on her knees, under the long table, moving from one member to another, sucking and licking with gusto. If he ordered it, would she obey such a demeaning act? The once proud woman had been stripped of all moral decency, so maybe she would. After all she had gone through, this despicable state was understandable. But, to become a complete tramp? That was puzzling.

She was hot. Sizzling like bacon on a griddle. She couldn't stand still, with nervous tension griping her, being driven by sexual arousal. The sexual need was winding her up like a clockwork toy, with the spring threatening to bust.

'You used a very bad word, slave,' he intoned. 'I want you to behave, and not use bad language in your master's home. Cunt is not acceptable,' he explained.

Jane stood looking bemused and other worldly. She was having a problem focusing, and listening to him. She reached for her crotch.

'Stop that, right now, slave,' he ordered.

When she didn't, he pushed her head over the desk, and held her down. He lifted the dress to reveal a bare bottom. He was sure these weren't the panties she put on, when he was in the bedroom. She had been playing with him, trying to tease him into taking her.

He slapped her bottom hard. 'You will, behave yourself, slave. You will learn patience, and to take care of your master first,' he clearly stated.

'Please, master, don't spank your slave, please,' she implored him.

He didn't realise what he was doing to her! He was adding petrol to the flames! Like a fish out of water, her vagina was gasping for a cock. Any cock would do! She remembered the vibrator tucked away in his daughter's bedroom. It was a life saver. She thought of it tucked away inside her, while imagining a man taking her. It calmed her enough to stand before him, without completely falling apart.

'Go to your room, slave, and wait until I call you,' he said.

When she left the room, he blew on his red hot hand, trying to ease the sting.

'Damn it! My hands have softened up since retiring,' he complained.

From her reaction, he considered she was used to it. Had Margaret shaped the woman's behaviour by spanking her? Surely it couldn't have been Margaret's son? A teenager spanking a mature woman would have been disgraceful. The possibility of a scandal hung over her, and also the continuous humiliations experienced at that house, all added up to keep her at heel. Was that the answer? He sighed heavily, and picked a book at random from a shelf, wanting to take his mind off these confusing ideas.

Jane lay on the bed with legs spread, teasing her vagina with the vibrator. Earlier she hid it away, without looking at it properly. Now it had her full attention. There were two small nozzles at the end, one larger than the other. She soon figured they weren't meant to be optional, rather they were designed to be used together.

One was pulsing over her clit, while the smaller phallus vibrated against her asshole. She didn't like the idea of having something enter there. The vibrations were surprisingly nice, so she angled the little one to stimulate her little puckered hole. The pulses against her clit were better. Already heated up from the spanking, she was aroused enough to penetrate her pussy.

Damn! When she tried to push it in, the little phallus pressed into her bottom, so she had to pull back. It became a vicious circle, of pushing and pulling, wanting to feel something inside, yet not wanting to penetrate her bottom. Each time she see-sawed, the penis was rubbing back and forth across her clit. Her mind was saying no, and her body was demanding satisfaction. As usual, her body won.

Her whole body stiffened, holding it very still, not daring to move. She had buggered herself with the little phallus. It felt big inside, and she had shoved it up hard, all the way. The other phallus wasn't as big as a real one, but that too felt big. Her vagina had clamped around it, so the pelvic exercises had paid off. She lay there a moment, getting her breath back, and letting the pain subside.

Pulling it slowly from inside both places, the devil instrument accidently rubbed her 'G' spot, before she could extract it. Unable to resist the intense sensation, she slid it back as far as it would go, pushing hard. As much as she hated the idea of buggering her virgin ass, it was impossible not to fill her pussy. Her vagina clamped tight around it, when at last she began to orgasm.

Her legs fell open, with arms falling to her sides. She lay back breathing heavily, at last replete from a deep orgasm. Her tummy continued to flutter, with both phalluses deep inside. It was the first time using a vibrator and it worked! The deep orgasm was wonderful. She felt as though she were floating above the bed.

Not wanting to feel empty, she left it in.

'I want a cuddle now, but you can't do that can you!' she chided the devil machine.

She chuckled to herself, amazed at this new discovery. It made her more independent, and that was good. She clenched and unclenched her muscles, feeling it sliding from inside her. She gave a final squeeze, for it to slide onto the bed. She reverentially picked it up, wiped it on the sheet, and kissed it.

'My special little man,' she whispered. 'Mark, that's your name. Maybe you can help keep my passion under control, Mark,' she said.

If that were possible, she might be able to free herself from this awful dependence on men. It was partly the uncontrollable passion that kept her submissive. One less burden might help free her.

Jane spent the rest of the weekend, more calmly, waiting for her master to use her. However often she used the vibrator, she still needed a man. At night she fell asleep in his arms. During the day she became worked up, and teased him, until sent to her room. He hadn't guessed she welcomed the banishment, so she could play with Mark, her energetic new lover.