The Trainer Ch. 01

Groping Breasts

[[ This is the first in what will hopefully be a long running series about the slave trainer, Alexander D’jann and his girls and boys. As with most stories I write, this is intended to be linked with a song. In this case you should check out Preach and Pervert by KMFDM as the companion music ]]

The Catholic

3 slept the sleep of the contented, that was the part that had always surprised her. Since she was perhaps 12 she’d suffered from trouble sleeping. Now, on the cusp of her 20th year she had found the cure to the nameless ache that had troubled her nights.

When the alarm awoke her that morning at 5am she had woken from her foetal curl on the floor and looked out from the bars of the cage. She looked over to 2, still sleeping soundly through the alarm that had blared for 30 seconds. Finally it fell into silence and 2 still slept. 3 sighed softly. Last time 2 had slept through her alarm, 3 had been beaten for not waking her. She crawled over, underneath the bars. Quietly she whispered “2, it’s morning, wake up.” and nudged 2’s shoulder.

Still 2 didn’t wake. 3 sighed. “I am not being beaten for you again!” she hissed and yanked 2’s hair, forcing her awake. Finally 2 was awake, though sobbing slightly at the strength with which her hair had been pulled. Soon 1 had come through. She was first girl, and the only one master called by her own name. She belonged to her master, but was still far above the two girls in the cage.

First girl opened the cage and told them both they would be dressing today. Both girls knew the outfits that their master wanted and immediately washed and opened the clothing cupboard. 2 was unsurprised by her outfit but 3 was taken aback as she looked over the schoolgirl clothes and the large silver cross that hung from the neck.

_____________________________________

The Escort bayan catholic didn’t know why she’d responded to the message. She hadn’t even checked the site in months. But a whim for playing had caught her again. She just couldn’t scratch that itch, and the kinkier things were the more she ended up enjoying herself.

She would always ask for forgiveness afterwards.

But she could never tell the priest just what she had been touching herself while watching.

But the message was cooly worded, a simple quiet invitation to stranger pleasures that somehow intrigued her. She’d met him once, and they’d quietly discussed what they wanted. He slowly opened her up, each of her cravings and desires, the darkest filthiest cravings she’d been unable to confess. Then they set the date when it would start. They set a safeword, but she was sure she wouldn’t use it.

Finally she’d called him the night before, with cold feet and he’d spoken to her soothingly and calmingly, until finally she decided that she still wanted to go through with it. The next day, it began. She had hopped on a train and travelled to his house. First girl met her at the door.

The catholic looked over the first girl. She was beautiful. Her legs were covered in flared jeans, and she wore a t shirt. Her hair was shoulder length and she wore glasses. She’d very peacefully taken the bags and told the catholic a few of the rules.

Only first girl and the master could walk around, others must crawl.

As a rule clothing was not worn unless specifically asked for by the master.

Slaves must always obey master.

The catholic was sent upstairs on her hands and knees to his room. The whole upper floor of the building was a dungeon. He was sitting on his bed, reading Bayan escort when she crawled in on her hands and knees.

“Hello, Sir.” she whispered softly. He stood up and she looked him over. He was just over six foot, and his long scraggly hair went down to his shoulders. He was wiry and skinny and tight black clothing covered him.

He had walked to her silently and had put his hand in his hair, giving it a hard yank as he dragged her over to a mirror. He forced her to her feet. “Look in the mirror.” he growled in her ear softly.

She obeyed him, looking over the girl she found in the mirror. Her hair was brunette, and normally shoulder length. She wasn’t fat, but she had her curves in all the right places. She’d dressed in her old school uniform, at his request when she’d confessed she’d always loved the porn she’d seen with similar outfits. Pretty white tights ran up to a short skirt. A white shirt and a black tie. Over it a cross. C cup tits beneath, no underwear.

“What do you see?” he said. “A g– girl.” she said softly, trembling. He slapped her roughly. His hand still in her hair to hold her up. “I see a slave.” he growled, stripping her of her clothes as he spoke. “Now kneel and look again.” he ordered her. She fell to her knees as he released her hair, sobbing hard now. She looked again. “I see a slave, sir.” she sobbed.

He roughly kicked her in the side. “What?” he said. She’d howled in pain softly and clutched her side.

“l see a slave, master.” she’d mewled softly. She dragged herself over to him. “Please master…” she’d sobbed, kissing his boots.

And yet, already her cunt was dripping wet. This had been exactly what she wanted. It was going perfectly.

He spat on the floor next to her and looked at her. After a few seconds Escort he’d reached down and grabbed her hair again, forcing her face to it. “Lick it up.” he growled.

She screamed from the pain in her hair. She dragged her tongue over the ground and licked up his spit and phlegm. Grinning wickedly he’d pulled her to her knees again. He was undoing his trousers. For half a second she’d panicked.

This was it. She was going to break the celibacy she’d had. She thought of the safeword, and at that exact moment, discarded it, she had come this far, she should do it.

The thick seven inch cock was taken out. He’d teased it across her lips, holding her back, slapping her when she’d tried to touch it. “Beg, slave.” came the low command, and unbidden it came from her, all the filthy cravings and desires that drove her wild. She wanted to be fucked, used then discarded for her masters pleasure.

She was rewarded with the cock in her mouth and she sucked eagerly as best as she could. Almost immediately he slapped her face for her lack of experience, and to her amazement she begged to keep trying. He guided her lips up and down the ample cock and soon had lodged himself in the back of her throat. She choked and gagged around the thick cock even as he pressed further making her deep throat him. He pulled out a twitching cock and made her beg when he came over her face.

Finally he withdrew and threw her on the ground. He ordered her to her feet and had her bend over, wrapping her arms around her ankles. He took a coat hanger, and uncoiled, making a long thing strip to whip her with. “Now girl, it’s time to confess your sins.” he grinned.

_____________________________

It had been 3 months since that night. He’d named her 3 immediately after he’d fucked. And this morning as she awoke him in that outfit, she’d known he’d picked it specially, dressing her as he’d had her the first time, as he tore her panties aside, and thrust his cock deep into her asshole.

She smiled and pressed back against him, aching to feel his cum in her tight ass.

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