novel by Jay West

Training Carrie by Her Master

by Jay West

Chapter 17

 

  We agreed on a breakfast, and I had her standing by me while I made it.
We both had to be careful while I was frying the bacon. Grease spatters
take on a new meaning when you’re naked. But everything went well, and soon
we had two plates of bacon, eggs, and hash browns, along with juice,
coffee, and toast. Not healthy, but tasty. We took everything to the dining
room. As I held her chair, she hesitated briefly, probably thinking about
the rule forbidding her to sit while naked. Then she realized she was still
with Bill, and there were no rules. She sat and I pushed in her chair.

    We chatted about this and that during the meal, occasionally hand
feeding each other bits of bacon or toast. Then, all at once, it became
obvious to both of us that breakfast was finished. There was nothing left
to eat, nothing left to drink, only time enough to say goodbye. We held
hands, leaned toward each other, and held a long, tender kiss. When we
broke the kiss, I smiled at her and said, “Time to clear the table and
clean up the kitchen, I guess.”

    “Yes, Master,” she said, returning my smile. I told her to get started,
and I went to get her heels and house wear.

    After getting dressed, I first returned her survival kit to the
location she had chosen for it during the day, then met her in the kitchen.
I had her get into her heels and house wear, then helped her finish cleaning
up. Our adventures in eating yesterday and this morning had generated
enough dirty dishes to fill her dishwasher to capacity. after we juggled
stuff around, everything fit, and we started it up. Then I took her in my
arms and gave her a long, tender kiss.

    I asked her if she would like to wear her butt plug for me today, and
she said she would be pleased to wear it. I told her we should make a trip
to the basement to give her an enema first. She said she would be pleased
to go downstairs, but if Master preferred, there was an enema bag in our
bathroom that could be used instead. I told her that now I knew she had
planned for everything, and off we went to the bathroom.

    She showed me the enema gear, stowed away in a drawer. I told her to
prepare a warm soapy enema, then we would follow it with a clear water
rinse. As she was getting it ready, I asked her if she enjoyed her time
with Bill. She talked to me as if I was unaware of anything that happened,
explaining the awkward silences, and how they were both surprised by that
at first. But then they realized that their first meeting had more of a
purpose and a structure, and they weren’t left to create their own
structure. She added that the need to avoid talking about her Slave life
with Bill was the real reason that it was awkward.

    I told her that maybe she shouldn’t try to avoid talking to Bill about
her Slave life, that maybe she could talk about aspects of her Slave life
with Bill that she would hesitate to talk about with her Master. She asked
me for an example, and I said I couldn’t give her a good example right now,
but I would think about it and we would talk about this again. I told her
that in the meantime she should think about why she felt she could talk
freely to her Master about Bill, but not to Bill about her Master, since
she clearly loved both of them.

    Then she had the enema ready, so I had her position herself as if she
was going to sit on the toilet, and then instead kneel down and touch her
forehead to the floor. She automatically crossed her wrists behind her back
when she did that. Her back was perfectly straight, and a significant part
of her torso weight rested on her forehead, a perfect Pose. I inserted the
tube, patted her on the ass, and started the flow. There was no hook for
the bag, so I stood and held it while it drained.

    When the bag was empty, I warned her and then removed the tube. I told
her that I wanted her to hold her Pose for a few minutes, and that she
should tell me if she felt any cramping. I put the enema bag, hose, and
tube in the basin, and washed off the tube under hot water. I went and sat
down on the toilet, and caressed her ass and thighs while we waited. After
nearly five minutes, she said she was starting to feel some cramps in her
belly. I moved out of the way, and had her stand and then sit. I told her
to continue holding the enema until she was told to release it. I noticed
there was some perspiration on her upper lip, and I kissed it away.

    I knelt down in front of her and gripped her thighs lightly with my
hands. She leaned forward to kiss me, I met her half way, and we shared a
long, tender kiss. When the kiss was over, I told her that, other than
asking her to suppress her orgasms yesterday, I had not been very
controlling since yesterday morning, and that I thought she would
appreciate some increased control. She nodded her head and thanked me. I
asked her if she was still having cramps, and she said they were pretty
severe now. I didn’t say anything, but I caressed her breasts for a few
minutes.

    Now I could see her wincing, although she was trying not to show the
pain. I told her to release the enema, which she did immediately. When she
had expelled everything, I told her to keep trying gently to get more out
for the next few minutes, then she could have a cool, clear water enema to
remove any leftover soap. I had taken hold of her thighs again, and was
looking steadily at her face and her eyes. She was meeting my gaze and
smiling at me, and neither of us felt we needed to speak. I thought that,
other than the fact that she was sitting naked on the commode trying to get
the last of a soapy enema out of her ass, and I was kneeling fully clothed
in front of her, this was a magic moment.

    After a few minutes, I took some toilet paper and lightly wiped her
ass. then I told her to rinse out the enema bag and tube thoroughly, then
fill the bag with cool, clear water. I cautioned her that it should just be
cool to her touch, not cold.  We repeated the whole process again, only
this time I wasn’t concerned with cramps. But I did make her wait a full
five minutes, both on the floor and on the toilet. This time she was
shivering slightly by the time she was allowed to expel the enema. I told
her that meant she had used water that was a little too cool, and she
should remember that for the next time.

    I put her house wear back on her, and took her to the bedroom. I pointed
out that I had relocated her kit back where she wanted it stored during the
day, and she thanked me. I said no thanks were required, I just wanted her
to know where it was at all times. She smiled at me. I sat her down at her
dresser and brushed her hair until it looked as good as I could make it,
but it was not as pretty as she had made it yesterday afternoon. I took her
back in the bathroom and had her lean over with her hands on the tub.
Lubing up the butt plug, I gently inserted it in her ass and positioned the
fingers to line up in the crack of her ass. I wiped off the excess
lubricant from around her ass hole, and had her stand up and walk back into
the bedroom. I asked her how it felt, and she smiled and said it was
wonderful. I told her to tell me if she felt the fingers irritating her
again.

    I told her to assume the learning position, which she immediately did.
Following our usual approach to talks, I sat in front of her and offered
her my open hands. She immediately placed her hands in mine, and looked at
me with curiosity, but with a smile. I told her I wanted to have another
talk about the training program I had asked her to agree to, to learn
control over her orgasms. I told her that I remember telling her that I
would not bring it up again, but it needed to be discussed one last time.
She said that she would agree to participate, and was curious when the
first testing session would occur. I told her she should have let me
finish, that there would be no training, no testing sessions, no punishment
for having or not having orgasms, not now, not ever. She looked surprised,
but kept silent. I think she was afraid I was somehow angry with her over
some aspect of this orgasm control issue.

    I told her I was in awe the control she had shown yesterday. The
feeling of power she had given me – even though I was fully aware the power
was in her, not in me – was a gift that I felt wholly unworthy of
receiving. And the fact that she had to explain to me why I should not
interfere with her attempt to be the best Slave she could be for her
Master, that had made me realize what an unworthy Master I truly have been.
She interrupted, and said, “Oh no, Master, you are wrong.” I put my finger
to her lips. I told her that I was not wrong, and she knew as well as I
that I had been making poor decisions.  She wouldn’t remain silent, she
interrupted again and said,  “A few bad decisions, and many, many good
decisions. Master, we’ve only been doing this a week, don’t beat yourself
up.” I silenced her again. I told her I wasn’t beating myself up, and
thanked her for agreeing with me that I had made mistakes. I said that the
message I wanted her to get is that she deserves a better Master, and since
I fully intended to be her Master forever, I was committed to becoming the
Master she deserved. I said that, as far as orgasm control training, she
was fully trained. On occasion I would require her to demonstrate her
training and control for me similar to yesterday’s very impressive and
flawless debut demonstration. I said that I would expect nothing less than
the perfection she had shown yesterday during any future demonstrations. At
any other times, she was free to have orgasms whenever and where ever she
chose. But the issue of further training was closed, she needed no
training.

    I stood up and pulled her up with me. She said she loved me, and that I
was, and would continue to be, her perfect Master. I kissed her and asked
her if she would prefer a quiet Sunday at home or a walk. We looked at the
clock, and it was 11:00. She said we could pack a picnic lunch and hike to
the furthest fucking site we had located the other day, then eat and fuck.
I said, “Or fuck, then eat?”

    “Yes Master, that’s what your Slave meant to say.”

    We found ourselves in another familiar position, standing side by side
peering into the refrigerator. There was chicken we could fry, and potato
salad. We could heat some canned baked beans and take them in a thermos.
Another thermos of iced tea. A couple of beers for each of us in an
insulated container. A picnic!

    I prepared and floured the chicken while she heated a fry pan and oil.
Since she was naked, I fried the chicken while she avoided the stove and
got everything else ready. She had a picnic hamper, a thermos for the tea,
and an insulated pack for beer. All we seemed to lack was a wide mouth
thermos for beans. I told her to just put them in a seal able plastic bowl,
and we could set them out in the sun for a while before we ate. I told her
to go find a piece of black paper or cloth and include it in the picnic
hamper. She asked what it was for, and I said that anything black would get
hot in the sun, and we would set the beans on that.

    The chicken was cooked in about 40 minutes, then I let it cool for 20
minutes while we rounded up everything else. I told her I wanted her to
wear her harness until and unless it was chafing her, that we would remove
it whenever she wanted. She asked about nipple clips and weights, and I
said not today. She didn’t like that, but she didn’t complain. She went to
get a blanket and her harness and walking shoes and socks. I asked her if
she thought we needed the canteen, and she said we had tea and beer, that
should be enough. I told her not to forget the sun block and her kit, and
she went to get them while I packed the chicken and took the picnic hamper
to the exit door. We had everything assembled shortly after noon.

    I stripped her and put on her socks and walking shoes, covered her in
sun block, then put the bottle in the hamper. After massaging in the sun
block, I put her in her harness. She walked down the hall and back, and I
asked her if there was any chafing. She said no, so I told her to grab her
kit. Putting the blanket on top of the hamper, I grasped the hamper
handles, and out we went.

    She walked in front, so I could enjoy the view of her leather-framed
cheeks swaying and jiggling along the path. When I was thoroughly turned
on, I caught up and walked beside her, peering over at her swaying breasts,
also framed in leather. She saw me eyeing her, and said she should have
never fallen in love with such a dirty old man. I said that I wasn’t that
old, and that if she didn’t want people to look at her body, she shouldn’t
walk around outside, naked or worse. She said yeah, like she had a choice.
I asked her, if she were totally free to choose, what would she be doing
right now. She smiled up at me, and said without hesitation that she would
be outside, naked or worse, walking with the man she loved, to a place
where she knew he was going to fuck her until her eyes crossed.

    We had reached the first spot where we stopped to fuck on our grand
tour. We turned and took the path headed for the second spot. The trail
narrowed here for a while. and I started walking ahead, then stopping to
watch her swaying breasts approach me. A few times I refused to go on again
or let her by until she gave me a feel and a kiss. She said she was getting
hungry, and we still had a ways to go, and she knew she she was going to
have to put out before I would let her eat, and I was wasting her time
trying to cop a feel like a high school punk. I asked her how she knew I
was a punk in high school, and we both laughed. Grinning, she poked a
breast at me and said, “Ok, feel it up all you want, punk.”

    Somehow we managed to reach our destination without stopping for a
quickie. While I spread the blanket, she opened the hamper, took out the
beans and two beers, then put the black cloth and the beans on top of the
hamper. We put her kit at one corner of the blanket and the hamper at
another corner, then she stripped me and applied sun block to my body. I
removed her harnesses and her shoes and socks, and we sprawled on the
blanket, kissing and swigging on the beers. I told her that I would be
kicked out of the macho assholes’ club for life if I was seen sprawling on
a blanket next to a naked woman who looked like her, and not instantly
trying to ravage her. She said that maybe I never belonged in the macho
asshole club to begin with. I said, “Are you kidding? I was it’s founder.”
She laughed, and said I must have undergone a conversion, did I meet a
charismatic figure on a deserted road somewhere? I said No, I had met a
wonderful, intelligent woman, who had a goddess’ body, and who happened to
wind up in the wrong place with the right guy. She kissed me again and
asked me to fuck her.

    I said that I was feeling temporarily incapacitated by the strong
alcoholic beverage I had just consumed, but if we could find a volunteer to
provide a little oral stimulation, then one who would mount up and ride me
for a few miles, I was sure it would all come back to me eventually. She
said it sounded like a fancy way of saying I was too fucking lazy to fuck.
“Isn’t that what I said? Where’s my volunteer?”

    “Right here, Master,” she said, as she took my cock in her mouth. Then
she mumbled something. I asked her to speak more clearly, so she took my
cock out of her mouth, and laughed as she said, “I said, ‘Can I use my
hands, or must I do it all al dente?'”

    “Well Mrs. Malaprop, since you’re already alfresco and inflagrante, use
your hands too. And don’t you dare test my cock to see if it’s al dente.”

    By now we were both lost in each other’s obscure references. We both
knew we were joking, but neither of us had a clue what the other was
talking about. She shrugged and went back to blowing me.

    She knew how to push my Start button, and in a few seconds I was erect.
She hopped on and began thrusting her hips, shaking her breasts
seductively, asking if I was starting to get any ideas. I told her if she
could stretch out on top of me, I believed I could demonstrate some of my
ideas to her. Before she started to move, I raised a finger. “Or,”, I said,
“we could find ourselves in a position my Slave might remember from
previous engagements, where my face is buried in her pussy and my hands are
trying to make her nipples explode. How would you like that as a first
course?”

    “Master, you know that makes me insane. But it feels so good while I’m
going insane, I can guarantee you a hotter, hornier Slave if you’ll grant
me a few minutes of that first.”

    “An offer I can’t refuse. If the lady will please dismount, we can get
to it.” She got off me and flopped on her back, legs wide.

    “Magic tongue and fingers, take me!” she said. And I did. After a few
minutes, I noticed that she wasn’t coming at her usual rapid pace, or at
all. I came up for air, and asked her what was wrong, why no orgasms? “No
problem, Master. I was just screwing around. I thought I would wait a while
and try to have one big one, to see if it would be more intense than any of
the ones I usually have close together when you subject me to this
procedure. Guess I should have said something, huh?” I told her she was
perfectly free to do anything she wanted to with her orgasms, I was just
afraid I had inadvertently said or done something wrong, or maybe she
wasn’t feeling well. I said I was going back to work now. As I was
continuing to work on her, she put both hands on my head and started
running her fingers through my hair. I kept going for about five minutes,
and she said, “I’m going to come now, Master, I don’t want you to get
hurt.”

    A second after she said that, her body spasmed and she screamed. Her
ass bucked clear off the ground, taking me with it. I looked up, and she
had her hands to her head, saying “Oh my God,” over and over. She looked at
me and saw that my entire face was drenched with her secretions, and she
pointed at me and started laughing. She was trying to say she was sorry,
but she was laughing so hard she couldn’t get it out.

    “Yeah, that was hilarious,” I said, as I dug a napkin out of the hamper
to wipe my face. Now she thought I was pissed at her, until I put the
napkin down and she saw I was laughing too. “So I guess it worked,” I said.

    “Yeah, it worked. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again soon.” I
crawled up beside her, and tried to kiss her. “Ewww,” she said, “it’s in
your hair, too.” I gave her the napkin and she wiped at my hair. She said,
“Guess I was wrong about not bringing the canteen. To hell with it, I
believe you wanted to kiss me?” I kissed her tenderly for a minute or two.
I said, not that I was out of the mood or anything, but I wanted to propose
a revised agenda: let’s eat, digest, then fuck. She agreed, and we started
setting up our picnic.

    The food turned out to be very good. Even the beans were warm. The only
problem was that we had forgotten to pack any salt, but that was a minor
thing. I thoroughly enjoyed the meal, and I think Carrie did too. We capped
it off with the remaining two beers. About half way through the beers, she
said she was getting sleepy, what with all of the sun, food, and beer. I
told her to take a nap if she wanted to, I would stay awake. She put
everything away in the hamper except the two beers we were swigging, then
stretched out on her back with her hands under her head. She was asleep in
a few seconds. I watched her beautiful body for awhile as she slept. Then I
decided I would be more comfortable if I sprawled on my side, supported on
one elbow. I finished my beer while I watched her for a few more minutes.

    I came awake with Carrie shaking my shoulder. “Wake up, Master, it’s
almost dark,” she said. It was. The sun was already down. I told her I was
sorry, I didn’t aim to go to sleep. I had her put on her own socks and
shoes while I got dressed. I crammed everything loose into the hamper,
folded the blanket and put it on the hamper, and we were starting to leave.
Then it occurred to me to take a precaution. I asked her to open her kit
and take out the pistol and give it to me. I jacked a round into the
breech, lowered the hammer, checked the safety, and stuffed it into my
belt. She zipped up her bag, and we set out. It was dark before we got
halfway home. We got lost once for a minute, but she knew her property
pretty well, and soon found the path again. When we came out into the
clearing overlooking her house, I had her wait. We stood quietly for a few
minutes listening for any unusual sounds, but heard nothing but animal and
wind noises.

    When we got to the house, I had her wait in the shadows with the hamper
and her bag, where she could see the door. I took out the gun, cocked the
hammer, and went into the house. I went through every room, looking for
anything unusual, and found nothing. I checked that every other external
door was locked, and turned on the outside lights. I went back to our door
and told her it was Ok, to come on in. She ran in carrying all of our
stuff. When the door was closed and locked, I told her that I was so sorry,
that I should never have gone to sleep and left her defenceless like that,
and that I swore it would never happen again. She hugged me and kissed me,
and said she wasn’t afraid, because she knew I knew what I was doing and I
would get her home safely. I vowed to myself that we would never again take
alcohol with us on our walks.

    I kept the gun in my belt for awhile just in case. We put all of the
picnic dishes in the sink for Philip to deal with, and put the little bit
of leftovers in the garbage. I kept Carrie with me. We took the blanket in
the laundry room, then took the harnesses to the mural room. Next stop was
the bathroom, where I had her bend over while I removed her plug. I handed
it to her and she washed it off. I had her remove her shoes and socks. She
was shivering from being outside in the cool night air. She had a bathrobe
that I had let her keep, but told her never to wear without permission. I
had her put it on, and we went back to our exit door, collected her heels,
housewear, and survival kit, and took them to the bedroom. I had her
disrobe again in the light, and checked her all over. She was a little
sunburned and had a few bug bites, and I felt a little burned too. But the
sun block had done its job, and I didn’t think either of us would notice it
tomorrow.

    With Carrie in her robe again, we went back to the kitchen to see about
dinner. We quickly settled on a garden salad and some quick sandwiches.
When we had everything, including a bottle of wine and glasses, we took it
to the bedroom, closed and locked the door, and ate on the table we had
used for breakfast a few times. We hadn’t talked much about our experience,
but after a few sips of wine I told her again how sorry I was that I had
failed to protect her. “Master, nothing happened,” she said. “I was afraid
at first, but when I saw that you were dealing with the situation, my fear
went away. You didn’t let me down. You protected me. The only thing either
of us did wrong today was drink two beers in the hot sun. We won’t do it
again, case closed.” She gave me a wry grin, and said “Besides, if anyone
had actually gotten onto the property while we were asleep, that pager you
always carry would have gone off, and one of us would probably have heard
it.” I told her I hadn’t thought of the pager, but I would have taken the
same precautions even if I had thought of it. I said that people we don’t
even know could not be our last line of defence.

    She got up and sat in my lap, and kissed me. She said she loved me, she
knew I loved her, we were together, and we were Ok. I looked at her and
shook my head. I said that she even made that old ratty robe look sexy. She
kissed me again, then returned to her chair. She said we should finish
dinner, have a second glass of wine each, then take a shower and go to bed.
That gave us all night to fuck, since we had already slept. I laughed and
poured some more wine.

    I took the pistol into the bathroom with us. We both used the toilet
and bidet first. Even though the bedroom door was locked, I also closed and
locked the bathroom door while we were in the shower. We soaped each other
and I washed her hair again. Neither of us tried any foreplay in the
shower. That’s how I knew she was scared a little, in spite of her denials.
When we had dried one another and I had combed out her hair, I opened the
bathroom door to let some of the steam out. I made her leave the robe
behind, and we went back to the bedroom. I brushed her hair, more to relax
her than anything else.

    When we were ready to get in bed, I showed her how to safe the gun
after she had prepared it to fire. I ejected the clip, then ejected the
shell in the breech, and put it back in the clip. I lowered the hammer,
double checked the safety, and reinserted the clip. I told her it was now
back to the exact configuration she had been carrying around. I said we
would leave it on the night stand tonight, and put it back in her kit
tomorrow. I handed it to her, and she put it on the night stand. Then she
walked up to me, put her arms around my waist, looked up at me, and asked
me to please take her to bed and make love to her.

    So we didn’t fuck that night. We did what she asked, we made love.
There was no attempt to see how many positions we could cycle through.
There was no orgasm count, or even concern about having orgasms, although
I’m sure both Carrie and I came plenty of times. The point is, we didn’t
care about how many we had, or if we had any. There were no hungry,
grasping kisses, although there were plenty of long, lingering, loving
kisses. We spent most of the night rediscovering one another. There were
also a lot of pauses between the action for talk, some of it about Master
and Slave, that’s what we were, but most of it about a man and a woman who
were trying to love each other in a very unusual environment. They wanted
the environment, most of it anyway, but they also wanted their love to
flourish and grow, and in a lot of ways those two wants were incompatible.
But they believed they could figure it out if they talked about it and
lived it with concern. There was sex. It was gentle.

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6 thoughts on “Training Carrie, chapter 17

  1. It is a chapter I used to place as an “in between” chapter. Nothing really happens. In Training Carrie at some places the story slows down until it almost stops moving.
    I like to think the writer did it with a purpose to make us wonder about the love between them.

    I like that thought.
    Han

    Like

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