J McKenna - Naughty girl

When Hank threatened to fire him, Gloria had stepped in and “suggested” he come stay with her for a while. He had accepted gratefully, not knowing that they were both embarking on a symbiotic relationship.

It had started out innocently enough. Since Gloria didn’t charge him rent, he had to work it off somehow, she told him. She began by making him sweep up, cook dinners and draw her baths. All the while, she teased him with the possibility that he’d get laid in the end, though she didn’t give in. Yes, he could’ve forced himself on her, but he never did, out of respect for her and realizing the power she had over him.

She used that power to push him further and further along toward slavery, without his even being fully aware of it. Of course, she suspected this was what he had really wanted all along. It was more of a game they played. She would exert more control over him and he would acquiesce, bobbing his head in submission.

Soon, she had him vacuuming her home dressed only in an apron, his cock pressing against the flimsy material. Something about a man doing household chores naked or nearly so really turned her on—she couldn’t explain it.

He was a highly sexual creature, so Gloria could use the carrot of her body against the stick of “punishments” for disobedience. The punishments were usually slaps on his bare bottom, but it was enough to correct this thinking. His main motivation was the promise that she might give in to him, if he behaved himself.

That’s how she got him to wear the collar and cuffs. She had explained that because he was so much bigger and stronger than she was, she needed a way to control him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t feel comfortable having him in her home. He readily agreed—anything to stay a while longer in her presence, to perhaps one day explore the pleasures of her flesh.

Gloria then attached a leash to his collar and led him around, getting him used to being under her control. He didn’t seem to mind, especially when she wore short skirts that flashed her ass at him while they walked.

Her body proved to be a powerful weapon to further his obedience. Her favorite training method was to chain him by his collar to the wall then slowly strip just out of his reach, displaying her body to him and promising the delights to come. After that, he seemed eager to learn.

The first time she let him touch her was only with his hands cuffed behind his back. He lay on the bed, squirming over his hard-on, while she teased him just out of reach, making him watch her undress. When she pulled her panties off, she knew he was ready to please her—his tongue was already out, licking his upper lip. Gloria had kept her riding crop handy as she scooted closer to his face, telling him he had to do exactly what she told him to do, or he’d feel the lash of the leather.

Within a few weeks, she had him tongue-trained to bring her to multiple orgasms. A month after that, she allowed him to fuck her for the first time—but only on her terms. He had to stroke her, caress her, encourage her and bring her to several orgasms for an hour or more before she would allow him to enter her.

What a woman wouldn’t pay for man like that! Not that she’d ever sell him. She had hoped Carl could be trained, but she was beginning to have her doubts. He seemed too wild and too much in control at the same time. Some men were just like that. Perhaps she could start his training then sell him to someone overseas. Someone with more severe training techniques. Yes, that might work.

The orgasm began to build, drawing her attention away from the problem downstairs and back onto Sven’s insistent tongue. She rode it like a surfer toward a shining goal. In seconds, she was shuddering with relief.

Next to her, Gloria could hear Abigail approaching her own orgasm, her voice rising in octaves. Ahh, this was the life , Gloria mused. Why couldn’t all women live this way?

DeeDee huddled in her cell, dried tears on her face. She had wept after Carl had been taken away, but only after she had been returned to the dungeon. She dared not show her tears to Master Turk. The one tear that had fallen while she was fellating him she had managed to wipe away before he’d noticed.

Now, hours later, she tried to sort out her thoughts. She had enjoyed her life with Master Stephen. He had awakened this need within her that, on one level, took control of her life. But somehow, it was always a game. She felt she could stop anytime just by putting on underwear. It was like their safe word. When Stephen died, she thought she had been ready to let that lifestyle die with him.

Dating Charlie, then Frank may not have been the wisest choices for boyfriends after Stephen, but at least it had given her a look at traditional male-female relationships. After all, she’d been with Stephen since college.

When Carl walked into her life, DeeDee had thought he’d be like the others. Yet he turned out to be a quiet Dom. His approach had been much like Master Stephen’s—take it slow, use it as a sexual stimulant, and above all, have fun. She had trusted Carl and would’ve gladly continued the experiment if he hadn’t gotten cold feet.

But Turk? He was entirely different. DeeDee couldn’t understand why her former master had thought she needed to be under the control of a man like Turk. She felt betrayed. Turk didn’t love her as Stephen had. She was a mere collectible. A valuable item to be trained, then sold.

At least Turk hadn’t raped her. Yet. He appeared to have no sexual interest in her, yet he wanted to make sure she’d offer herself to whomever he chose. So far, she’d endured only punishments meant to break her spirit. She knew that the time would come soon when she would be forced to satisfy a man by fucking him. She dreaded that encounter. She also knew, when the time came, she would obey without question. In a perverse way, this was exactly what she’d been trained to do. The game was becoming reality.

She wondered what had happened to Carl. She had gathered that he had been turned over to Gloria for “training”, but that could’ve been a euphemism for murder. The last she had seen of her boyfriend was when they wheeled him out in a large steamer trunk, neatly packed in. She’d noticed several breathing holes, but that meant little. They would be ideal for letting water in, for example, had they stopped at the nearest bridge to dump him over.

DeeDee tried not to think about things like that. She still had hope, however forlorn, that he might return for her. He had seemed to say otherwise, but she suspected he had been talking just for Turk’s benefit. She couldn’t imagine Carl would just abandon her—would he? No, if he can, he’ll be back , she decided. Unless he’s already dead .

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening at the top of the stairs. She looked over, waiting with expectation and dread. Master Turk came thumping down the stairs, followed, as usual, by a nude Crystal. He padded softly across the carpet to stand outside her cell. He put a large key in the lock as he spoke.

“Good afternoon, my pet. I apologize for not appearing earlier. I’ve been remiss in your training.”

He stepped back and allowed her to exit. Crystal stood to one side. DeeDee followed Turk to the center of the room. When he turned back to her, she dropped down to her knees without a word, her legs apart, eyes down.

“So well-trained. I like that. I know Master Stephen awakened the slave within you, which is why you are here today. But he wasn’t a true master. More of a dilettante, I’d say. Which was fine as far as it goes, but you need to experience the true meaning of slavery. You need to give yourself over completely to your master.”