Slave Training

Eva Monroe
5 mins read
Published over 2 years ago
Chapter 2

Slave Training (Part 2)

Pulling into the parking lot of a cozy little restaurant, you cut the engine and turn to me, unbuckling my seatbelt. I stay as I am, exposed and sitting on my hands, with my wrecked panties filling my mouth. You’re always infuriatingly good at taking your time, and I do my best to be patient while you look me over, oh so slowly… 

“Before we go in, I’m going to show you a video.” You prop your phone up on the dashboard in front of me. “This is what it looks like when a naughty little slut knows how to keep her mouth shut. I want you to keep your eyes on the screen, to study what a good, obedient girl looks like.”

I glance at you, but quickly nod and return my gaze to your phone. Before you press play, your lesson continues.

“This naughty slut sent me a text saying she missed my cock. So I instructed her to fuck herself with a dildo while telling me how badly she wished it was me. You’ll notice she does exactly as she’s told.”

Only then do you press play, revealing the absurdly sexy redhead who sometimes serves as my personal trainer. Clad in nothing but a sheer, black, lacy bra that pushed up her ample cleavage, and black stiletto heels, she sat in front of the camera with her legs spread wide. Cooing at the camera, she proceeded to do as you’d instructed, slowly shoving a sizeable dildo in and out of her wet pussy. Between her moans of pleasure, she panted, “I wish this was your cock, Sir… I miss it so much… I want so badly for it to be you fucking me…”

Watching her be so naughty for you was turning me on like crazy. By the time she finished and the video ended, I was sure the mess between my legs had dripped onto your leather seats… When you reached over for your phone, I hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“See how she didn’t improvise? She followed orders, and nothing more. That’s what I need you to do, slave. Understood?”

Meeting your gaze, I nodded obediently.

“We’re meeting some friends of mine for dinner, so I’ll allow you to speak freely. For the time being. What happens after dinner will depend on how well you behave. Is that clear?”

I nod again, silent, as I’ve not been instructed respond vocally. Reaching over, I assume you’re going to relieve me of my panties… but I should never assume anything with you.

Instead, you grab my waist and pull me towards you, attacking the base of my neck with your teeth, lips, and tongue. You know how much I love it when you bite me, and how loudly I usually cry out… I squirm with the effort to stay quiet, and you test me further by reaching up to pinch my exposed nipples, one at a time… prolonging the moment with your exquisite torture… 

When you finally release me and sit back, I’m panting and writhing in my seat. With a small chuckle, you reach over and remove my panties from my mouth, making me drool a little in the process. Shaking your head, you use my panties to wipe my mouth and chin.

“Such a sloppy little slut…”

Chastised, I hang my head and bite my lip. You take me by the chin and tilt my gaze up to meet yours.

“You may speak freely now, slave. And fix your dress. Your naughty girl panties are staying in the car.”

While you put my panties in the glovebox and get out of the car, I hurry to straighten myself out. By the time you open my door for me (looks like you’re putting all of my punishment on hold…) I’ve pulled up my dress and bra straps to cover my tits, and slipped the skirt of my dress over my naked ass. 

Climbing out of the car, I step aside, but just when I think the mess I left on the seat has escaped your notice, I hear you sigh. 

“Looks like you have a mess to clean up before dinner, slut. Come here.”

Taking me by the arm, you turn me to face the car, and I feel you hike up my skirt again to expose my pantyless bottom.

“Bend over, and lick it up.”

Christ. You always know exactly how to torture me… Following instructions, I’m extra humiliated when you stand back to observe my servility, leaving my naked half on display. With murmurs of approval, you stroke the insides of my thighs while I dutifully lick my juices off the leather seat.

When I finish and stand up, you slip your hand between my legs, inserting one… two… three fingers inside me. Gasping, I quickly bite my lip. We’re in a parking lot on a busy street, so moaning loudly isn’t a great idea… Leaning in, you nibble my ear and murmur in that crazy sexy voice of yours, thrusting your fingers in and out… so… goddamn… slowly… 

“While we’re having dinner, I want you to think about this, slave… Remember who this naughty, dripping pussy belongs to…”

Using all my willpower to stay quiet, I nod and whisper, breathless.

“Y-yes, S-sir…”

“Tell me.”

“It b-belongs to you… Sir…”

“Mmm… Good girl.”

With one last lick of my earlobe, you release me and take a step back, pulling my skirt down. Still catching my breath, I’m startled by the force of your finger shoved into my mouth.

“Clean these off for me, slave.”

Obediently, I take each of your fingers in turn, licking and sucking my wetness off of them, one by one. When I’ve finished, you wipe your hand on my cleavage, leaving a small smear of saliva. 

A satisfied smirk crosses your face as you take me by the hand and lead me inside.


Our dinner guests are a dashing friend of yours from work and his beautiful wife. It isn’t beyond you to include your/my/our friends in my discipline, but our delightful meal passes without any such incident.

The closest you come to tormenting me is when I get a little too squirmy in my seat. Having dinner without panties on is its own special form of torment, and my wetness starts to get so sloppy, I worry it’s going to trail down my thighs onto the seat… Or soak through my dress… While I’m trying to adjust myself to avoid any such embarrassment, you reach under the table and squeeze my knee until I hold still. I cross my legs, but you pull my knee until they uncross, and tug my leg towards you to spread my knees open… Sliding your hand up, you stop when you find the slick of wetness on my upper, inner thigh, and rest your fingers there to stroke and caress my sensitive skin… 

Having your hand so close to my exposed pussy makes it really hard to sit still... But I know that I’ll be punished mercilessly if I give away what you’re doing.

My hand flutters to the nape of my neck in what I hope is a casual gesture, but it draws the attention of Beautiful Wife.

“Oh my goodness, what happened to your neck?”

Confused, my fingers search for what she’s referring to… And land on the tender spot where you bit me in the car.

“Oh! I, um…” between my punishment in the car, your torment before we came inside, and your hand presently stroking my inner thigh, my brain is mush.

“She overdid it with a yoga strap. Gave herself rope burn.”

You smile at me, my savior. I smile back and shrug at Beautiful Wife.

“Sometimes I forget to relax.”

After dessert, your friend takes a phone call outside and his wife excuses herself to the powder room. Leaning into you, I tilt my head up to speak quietly in your ear.

“If I may ask, Sir… Can we please go?”

“Feeling antsy, pet?”

Hoping it won’t get me in more trouble, I risk being brazenly honest. 

“Your pussy is aching for you, Master…”

You smirk down at me and caress my cheek.

“She’s going to ache a lot more by the time I’m done with her…”