Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 15

'These young people, writing is indecipherable these days,' he slowly replied, as though reading an application.

'It's either Stephen, or Nigel,' she said, trying to hurry him off the phone. 'Stephen is away at college, and Nigel is on a break. He's due back soon. Leave your number and I'll let them know you called,' she said.

He left his office number and thanked her. At least he had a couple of names. It was probably the one on a break, though the college kid couldn't be ruled out. Another phone call had him confirming a flight home. An enquiry at the local high school would get their ages, though little else, so that was out.

Tommy drove from the airport to the highway, stopping for a burger, sandwiches, and drink. He parked up in a highway rest area, west of the city. He figured it would take them over thirty hours to make the drive. If they hadn't stopped for the night, and drove straight through, they would be arriving soon. The coffee was finished as well as the sandwiches, and the burger was rumbling his gut. He was patient, but the past three hours was dragging him down. There was only so much talk radio he could stand. It was just a chance, but worth it.

A black sedan approached. The number matched, so he started up, counted to ten, and made a u-turn. He followed them at a discreet distance, until again they passed city limits the other side of town, where they turned off the highway. He carried on. Another u-turn and he hurried down the opposite turn-off. They passed in front of him. He counted to ten, then turned after them.

They were heading out to the lake. It looked as though they were doing his job for him, and going home back to Bob. They drove passed the old dirt track up to Bob's cabin, so he continued, letting the distance lengthen. He wasn't too bothered about being spotted, as they must be exhausted. Besides, what could they do or say?

***

Nigel was trying hard to stay awake. Driving down to Las Vegas he'd stayed at a cheap motel, but not on the way back. They'd stopped to fill up, and surprised the young attendant, when the girls went to the restroom. Elizabeth had to fit the butt plug back in to hide the hole in her outfit. The women were tired too, as they had only fitfully slept.

Turning up the dirt track toward the lake, he was pleased to get home. The cabin was dark, confirming no-one was there. The place smelt musty, laying unused for months. He was relieved to find the lights worked, and there was a stack of wood round the back for the pot bellied stove.

The women unpacked the food and bottled water.

'I'm too tired to eat. I'm going to bed, to sleep,' he groaned.

They traipsed with him to a bedroom, not caring about modesty, and anyway, there was only one bedroom. There was a bed, exactly what they wanted. They shed their clothes, feeling grimy, and slipped between stiffly starched cold sheets. They snuggled up to Nigel to keep warm.

'Very nice, slaves,' he murmured.

Jane responded automatically, 'Yes, master, thank you, master.' She snuggled closer, and wrapped a leg around his.

Elizabeth heard her words and mimicked her. 'Thank you for rescuing us, master.' Her voice sounded more sincere than she meant. Too tired to care, she gave in to the feeling of being rescued, and protected. She pressed herself closer and entwined a leg around his free leg.

He was just awake enough to appreciate their closeness, and take in their sentiments.

'Good slave girls. Your master will look after you,' he murmured, and kissed them gently on the lips.

'Mmm, nice, master,' Elizabeth murmured as she fell asleep.

Jane opened her mouth and sucked his tongue for a moment, then she too was fast asleep.

Nigel had two beautiful naked women in bed with him. He was too tired to do anything about it, but made an effort. He whispered in Elizabeth's ear, 'Your my slave now. I shall fuck you anytime I want, in any way I want.'

She murmured something in her sleep, her eyes flickered, and she was away.

He turned to Jane and whispered in her ear, hoping for a better response. 'I'll keep you safe, slave. You're my fuck slave from now on. I'll keep you sexed up all the time, and fuck you hard in all the ways you like, and don't like.'

'Mmm, yes, master,' Jane murmured, and returned to dreamland.

In her sleep, Elizabeth heard what was said and took it all in. Her eyelids began to flicker, dreaming deeper, breathing shallow and ragged.

***

Elizabeth couldn't help herself. She was becoming so sexed up, she felt out of control yet again. She didn't want to be his slave. Every time she summoned the willpower to defy him, he pulled a stunt to keep her in line.

They were walking through a mall, and she was wearing a short skirt without panties. He kept leading her to hot air vents, blowing up the skirt, flashing strangers.

They walked into an art exhibition, and unaccountably she lost the skirt and top. She was standing among the guests wearing nothing but body paint. Other painted women were wearing bikinis, but she wasn't. The crowd moved around admiring the exhibits, pressing in upon her. The paint started to rub off and she became more desperate to escape.

A tray of drinks was shoved into her hands, so she had to serve the guests. With her hands full she was unable to stop their exploring fingers. It was such an inappropriate place to be naked, she felt terrible. The men were commenting on how wet she was, and how big and hard her nipples were.

She pleaded with Nigel on heaving breaths, to look after her, and help her escape. Feeling excited from being naked among strangers, she gave in, declaring she was his slave, and could he please take her home and fuck her.

Before she could find somewhere to be alone with him, they were back in the mall, on an escalator. She felt the skirt catch in the top teeth, ripping it off, revealing a tiny pink thong. The guys behind her cheered, and she nearly cum.

It would be dark in a theatre, so she was pleased her master bought tickets. They were making their way to middle seats in a full row. As she excused her way to a middle seat, she realised her skirt was up, showing off a tiny string thong. She had to squeeze all the way to her seat, wiggling her bare bottom in strangers faces, before sitting down, and covering her shame. No sooner had she sat down, she had to pee, so desperately made her way past them, again with the skirt up. This time she was facing them, seemingly waving her sex in their faces. The comments were awful, yet exciting. She was again ready to orgasm, and it was so evident, they commented upon it. The men started to touch her, as she passed them, and she again became desperate to orgasm.

Emerging from the rest room she was surprised to be at a sophisticated supper party. Standing among important guests, she was again handed a tray of drinks. She wanted to tell someone she was a guest, not a waitress. The buttons on her blouse kept popping off unexpectedly, leaving her breasts on display. Her nipples seemed huge, revealing how excited she was. Men kept touching them, pulling on her nipples, commenting on how large they were.

He led her away, helping her escape, but not home so she could satisfy her lust. Instead they were at a football game, and she was wearing a tiny top with cut-off jeans. The shorts hardly covered her bottom, and the threads at the crotch were unravelling, until it parted. The shorts kept riding up her hips like a tube, revealing her pussy and asshole. Pushing through the crowd of men to find Nigel, she realised how badly she needed her master to take care of her. She was gasping from having hands all over her body, taking advantage of her nakedness.

At last they were at home, where she pleaded with him to fuck her. She promised to be a faithful and obedient slave, just so long as he fucked her. She quickly got off her knees as strangers filed into the room. Her master had invited friends to a party, and she was having to serve the young adolescents.

She suddenly became conscious of the outfit, which was nothing more than a tiny g-string and a push up-bra. Her nipples were on show, and just a thin triangle of cotton cupped her lips. It was already wet, and so far no-one had touched her. Nigel informed everyone that she was his sex slave, and the humiliation had her on the edge of an orgasm.

He announced they were going to play, pin the tail on the donkey. She was the donkey, and the tail was a butt plug. The tiny patch covering her pussy was soaking wet. The girls made fun of her, and the boys stroked her naked body. She was bouncing with sexual lust, ready to give in to anyone.

He kept her in a state of arousal all the time, so she couldn't think straight, and was forever needing his cock. She kept declaring she was his dutiful slave, and should be looked after, with a good, hard fucking.

***

Jane groaned as her young master took her yet again. With Mark they had to be furtive, in case his mother found out. With Nigel they were free to copulate all the time, and as he was a young randy guy, they did. Jane was humiliated from having an adolescent command her every move, with everything in her life under his control.

He went out of his way to humiliated her, and that kept the fire between her legs well stoked. She was constantly ready for him, obediently giving in to his every whim. With all inhibitions wiped away she was able to try anything he thought up, or discovered on the internet. She was nothing but a boy's sex toy. An object for him to play with. She had never been so happy in her life.

***

Elizabeth woke up, unsure where she was. She was soaking wet between the legs, and wondered if Nigel had made use of her in the night. He was her master, so of course he could use her body if he wanted to.

'What the hell?' she murmured.

She wondered where that thought came from. He was still fast asleep, and a feeling of wanting him to fuck her became stronger. She wanted to wake him, declare her servitude, and beg him for a passionate session. She wrapped her arms around her naked body, willing herself to regain control, and not wake him. If he woke now she would humiliate herself by submitting to him, just for sex.

Jane was the other side of him, quietly snoring.

Elizabeth was shivering, unsure if was from cold or passion. She put a hand between her legs and discovered how aroused she was. Jane was a rival for his cock, and she was desperate for it. He was stirring, and might wake her competitor any moment.

Jane squirmed down the bed, and pushed between his legs. His cock was already half awake, so she soon brought it to full attention. She made her way up the bed, to sit on it. This time she knew who she was doing, and what she was doing. The only worry was why. She pushed down on his cock, while his eyes were flickering open.

Not to be outdone by her rival, she breathed out heavily, 'Good morning, master.'

She didn't need a master, but needed a cock. If this was what he wanted to hear, she would sell her sole and regret it later.

She felt him thrusting up with strong leg muscles, doing her hard. Through slit eyes she saw Jane waking. She wanted to boast she had won the master away from her, but was too involved in nearing a climax. She cum, but he kept at it. Maybe it was the morning hardness that kept him going.

She was about to roll off him, not wanting to become sore, only to feel another orgasm building. This was a surprise! Soon she was yelping with every powerful thrust, feeling ripples of sensations wander out to fingers and toes. The orgasm was deeper, and longer than before.

When he spurted his load into her, she collapsed upon him completely sated. He lifted her head and kissed her lips. She looked into his clear hazel eyes and melted.

Her speech was slurred as though drunk. 'You've mastered me. I'm your slave now.'

She was unsure whether it was a dig at Jane, or could she possibly mean it?

Jane was mesmerised, unable to move away while they screwed. It wasn't the same as when they shared a stranger in the coffee shop. This was different from the frantic fucking the other night, it was a slow deliberate love making. Elizabeth was taking her master. When Elizabeth declared she was his slave, Jane was livid. He was her master, and she had never really shared a master before, never had a rival for a master's care.

'Get us some coffee, slave,' Nigel ordered.

Jane was unable to disobey her master, so reluctantly slid from the bed. Her rival was in her rightful place, cuddling her master. She would have to try hard to please her master, and outdo Elizabeth for his attention. The woman was younger, with a slender figure. However, she knew more tricks to please a master, and had a voluptuous figure. A master liked large breasts, and she had prepared her asshole, which she felt Elizabeth would never stoop to offer. She would use all her wiles on him, to win his attention.

Preparing coffee it occurred to her how wrong it was to be vying for a young man's care. As a mature woman, it was demeaning to be so dependent upon a young master. It was humiliating to be preparing herself as a compliant sex object, ready to submit to his every whim. Feeling the familiar sexual tension, she relented to the sordid idea, and revelled in the squalid degradation.

She reminded herself why it was acceptable, that she was nothing more than a sex object, something to be used by a master, no longer a person with a free will. She was trained as a slave, auctioned to the highest bidder, sold in a store, won in a game of cards, and sold to a mysterious owner to be abused in a club. For a second time, she had been stolen away in the night, to become someone's slave. Being stolen meant she was nothing more than an object. At any time she could be used then sold on.

She shrugged her shoulders. A year ago, she would never have imagined having such an exciting life. Her husband had been her only lover. She thought sex was just something to be endured, occasionally. In the last year she had numerous sexual partners, with such diverse demands, her head span thinking about it. She hadn't realised sex could be so different and exciting. During this last year it seemed as though she had been in a continuous state of arousal.

Finding a tray, she set out breakfast, and carried it to her master. She was a better trained, and more experienced slave, than Elizabeth could ever be. With patience and obedience, she would win.