THE TRAINING OF JEANNIE AND CLAIR
by Zebulon
This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons is
intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery
and language. If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read
it.
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being
posted, and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site
where it is being posted.
Feedback is welcome. zebulon@fastmail.ca
(MF, FF, Bond)
* * * * * Start of Part 4 * * * * *
The Trainer closed the door behind him. Brenda was
still unconscious and the two recruiters were waiting
patiently. "O.K., gentlemen," he said, "now you can help
me with that little problem of mine."
The Trainer reached down and removed the butt plug,
tossing it casually aside. Brenda's anus twitched a couple of
times after it was gone. He stared down at her for a few
moments as if reflecting on the logistics involved in
delivering her to the buyer. He shrugged and said to the
recruiters, "Unstrap her please and take her into that room
over there." He walked over to the sink, dampened a small
towel, and then tossed it on Brenda's back. "Swab her
down with this." He looked at her bloody wrists. "Take
special care to clean off the blood and tape them up. You'll
find some bandage materials in that bathroom." He pointed
to an adjoining door. "Then dress her in one of the
traveling outfits in the closet. I'm sure you'll find something
in her size." He opened a drawer and pulled out some
restraints. "Use these too. I'm going to shower and change
clothes, I'll be right back."
The Trainer left the room and the recruiters went to
work on Brenda with quiet efficiency. She hung limply as
they undid the straps which held in place. Then they lifted
her body off of the frame and carried her into the next
room. They laid her on a large bed where the first recruiter
carefully went over her inert body with the damp cloth and
then tended to her wrists. The second recruiter looked into
the closet and pulled out an innocuous tan jump suit that
looked to be in her size. There were assorted
undergarments and socks in a drawer and a selection of
tennis shoes. Brenda started to regain consciousness as
they were finishing. She found herself lying on her belly on
the bed, a tight collar around her sore neck and her arms
trussed together high up on her back. She was too feeble to
put up any resistance and lay quietly as they connected her
ankles with a short restraining chain. She was wearing a
gag designed more for silence than anything else. When
they finished they sat her up and waited.
After another few minutes the Trainer returned. He
seemed quite relaxed and in good spirits. He had brought a
map.
"There is no real rush," he said to the two recruiters.
Brenda was much subdued and sobbing. "I assume that no
one saw you collect these . . .," he paused waiting for
confirmation.
The recruiters looked at each other and then the one said, "No greater chance than on any other pick-up."
"Then there is an excellent chance that no one has
noticed any of these missing yet," the Trainer
continued, "so if you move quickly. . ." he left the thought
unfinished and directed their attention to the map. "We are
here. . . . What I want you to do is to take her here as
quickly as you can without attracting attention." He handed
them a slip of paper with an address. "It's a funeral home."
The recruiters nodded. "Pull into the underground parking
lot and look for a standing next to a hearse. I doubt
there will be any chance for a mix-up, but just in case, one
of you ask him if this is the correct road to Paris. He will
tell you it's the road to Madrid. Just help fit her into the
coffin and get out."
At the sound of the word 'coffin' Brenda started to
protest as much as she could. The Trainer motioned to a
recruiter who pulled out his can of spray and gave her
another shot in the face. She quickly fell back onto the bed.
The smaller of the two recruiters lifted her up and tossed
her over his shoulder. They followed the Trainer to a back
entrance in an unused corner of the compound. He opened
a door and there was a ladder. "I'm sorry for the
inconvenience, but I don't want you going out past the other
girls."
They had no problem in maneuvering Brenda's listless
form up to their waiting vans.
Two days later the recruiters were home, sitting in a bar,
and commenting on what a swell guy the Trainer was. He
paid them for one who had to be taken unexpectedly,
covered for them completely with the Mart, and even
showed them a swell time before they left. What a prince.
They certainly owed him and would enjoy working with him
again in the future.
* * * * *
After the recruiters had gone, the Trainer returned to the
large room and glanced over at the sleeping Susan. There
was actually a smile on her face. 'Must be having pleasant
dreams,' he thought to himself. Then he turned his attention
to Jeannie and Clair. They had been awaiting his return
with dread for nearly half an hour.
"Well girls," he asked, looking from one of them to the
other, "are we ready to get started?" Jeannie watched him
with a mixture of anticipation, excitement, and a sense of
panic. Clair's reaction to his words was to begin until she had completely saturated the chair to which she
was strapped and the floor below. She was staring at him
the way a rabbit stares into the headlights of an approaching
car and, despite the situation, was mortified that she had
lost bladder control.
The Trainer waited until the waterworks had finished
and then said, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."
He walked over to Clair and took her chin between his
fingers and raised her face until she was looking up at him.
He slowly and methodically inspected her hair and face. He
his gaze continued down to her large and beautifully
proportioned breasts.
"You really are lovely. Did you know that."
When she didn't immediately respond, he raised his other
hand slowly as if he were going to swat her across the face,
whereupon, Clair immediately started to nod her head with
some vigor--the gag in her mouth making any other
response difficult if not impossible.
"You did know that you are pretty, yes?"
Again a nod of the head. Tears were running down her
cheeks.
He squatted down so that his head was on a level with
hers and smiled at her warmly. He then shifted his gaze
back to her and noticed that though the areolas were
rather large, the nipples themselves were relatively small.
Experimentally he reached out and began to rub one of the
nipples to see what it would look like when aroused. Clair
had flinched at his initial touch, but then endured what
followed without protest. It didn't take long for the nipple
to inflate. The Trainer noted the effect on her breathing.
He also glanced down and noted that her labia had begun to
swell a little with the arousal. Glancing back up the saw
that the nipple was now fully erect. 'That didn't take long at
all,' he thought, and then to her face said, "I'll bet you're a
real firecracker in the sack, aren't you?"
He watched her embarrassment and frustration at the
question. But before he might become angry for not
answering, he shook her head in the negative.
"Now don't be modest and don't be dishonest," he
warned gently. "I'll know the truth soon enough, anyway."
A brief pause while he stared intently into her eyes. "Does
sex really turn you on?"
She looked at him pleadingly, but saw nothing in his
expression of compassion and only a cold interest in
obtaining a truthful response to his question. Squeezing her
eyes shut and lowering her head, she nodded in assent.
"And you get really hot, don't you?"
Another closed eye nod.
He combed the hair back off of her forehead with his
hand and kissed her there gently. "Good girl."
Then he stood up and turned his attention to Jeannie.
Jeannie had been aroused by the Trainer's treatment of
Susan. She had mixed reactions to the rape of Brenda and
was extremely disturbed when she was murdered. But as
the recruiters dealt with Brenda's body, Jeannie kept telling
herself, 'As long as I cooperate, I'll be all right.' Having no
idea what was in store, it was the only hope she had to hang
on to. And when the Trainer returned to his less violent self
with Clair, it seemed to confirm her belief that whole-
hearted cooperation was her only salvation. Even though it
didn't last long, his gentle rubbing of Clair's had
gotten her aroused again. So when the Trainer crouched
down to look carefully at Jeannie, he was struck by the
hopeful, almost pathetically submissive, look on her face,
and the fact that her legs were again slightly separated and
her crotch slightly damp. 'Easily trained,' he thought, 'but
we've got to do something about that overly submissive
attitude.'
Looking directly into her eyes he said, loudly enough for
Clair to hear, "I am the Master." And turning to look at
Clair he froze her with his stare and said in a very stern
voice, "Do you understand that?"
Clair nodded back at him immediately.
"When the gag comes out," he said with equal sternness,
still looking at Clair, "you will call me 'Master,' yes?"
Clair again nodded.
Then turning back to look at Jeannie, he said in a much
friendlier almost collegial tone, "But you, and he emphasized
the you, can call me Master Rex, O.K.?"
Not knowing how to take this, Jeannie could only nod.
The Trainer reached out, undid, and removed the gag.
"O.K.?"
"Y. . .Yes . . ." a long pause in which the Trainer waited
expectantly but made no threatening gestures, ". . . M. . .
Master Rex."
"Excellent!" He reached down and removed her ankle
constraints. "I'm sure we are going to get along just fine."
He reached up and unhooked her neck collar from the wall,
but left the collar around her neck. "Now stand up and let
me have a good look at you." So saying and not waiting for
her to get up, he turned his back and walked across the
room. There he reached the large, overstuffed sofa, where
he turned again and sat waiting for her.
Jeannie was terribly confused. Her heart was pounding
furiously. Her hands were still cuffed behind her back and
there was the collar, otherwise she was now free to move
about. So she bent her legs under her, leaned forward, and
got to her feet. She glanced over at Clair who was
watching and then looked over at the stranger, or the
Master, or Master Rex. She'd have to remember to think of
him as Master Rex so as not to make mistakes. That was
her foremost thought, 'Do what Master Rex wants and don't
make any mistakes.' He had said he wanted to look at her
and she supposed that didn't mean from across the room.
So she walked over to where he was sitting and was
rewarded by seeing him smile and nod approvingly at her.
She found that her heart was slowing considerably, her fear
subsiding, and vague feelings of sexual attraction toward
this strange and incredibly powerful growing. She
knew she had been kidnaped and had every reason to expect
that she would be sexually abused, perhaps many times.
But there was something in his manner which suggested that
he had no intention of killing anyone else and that she might
actually be well treated, as he had promised, if she
continued to cooperate with him. But what exactly did he
want? All she could do was to wait and see.
When she reached him she didn't know what to do. She
just stood there facing him in a kind of parade rest stance as
he looked her over.
The Trainer really liked what he saw. Jeannie was even
more magnificent naked than in her skimpy Boobies outfit.
"How tall are you?" he asked.
"J. . . Just under five foot five."
He studied her face. Large brown eyes which matched
her shoulder length auburn hair wonderfully. Well defined,
shapely eyebrows. "Do you pluck your eyebrows?"
"Y. . .Yes. Th. . . That is, I used to when . . .
"Do you stutter?," he asked sharply? He knew she didn't
from when she had served him.
"N. . .No," she said meekly, and then after a pause and a
deep breath, "No." This time more strongly.
"Good. Then cut it out."
"Yes, Master Rex."
"Your brows?"
She took another deep breath. "I used to pluck them
when I was younger, but they've just grown like this ever
since."
"And how are you?"
"Twenty. I'll be twenty-one in three weeks."
If he were trying for maximum intimidation he would
have physically punished her for volunteering information
beyond his question. Instead he smiled at the way in which
she was becoming more at ease with him and with the
situation. 'Very good,' he thought to himself. Continuing
with his visual assessment he nodded approvingly at her
well formed nose, rich full lips, and strong but feminine
chin. 'Teeth,' he thought. He remembered her as having a
nice set of teeth, but her mouth was now closed. "Smile,
please."
She smiled. Excellent teeth, but a somewhat strained
smile.
"Come, come," he said, in a scolding but friendly tone,
"is that your best smile?"
Her smile changed. Much more openness and warmth,
but still a clear hint of artificiality and strain.
"Much nicer." He let his eyes roam over her body and
decided she gave the impression of being a much taller in miniature. She didn't have the somewhat stocky look
often seen in smaller women. Strong yet well-rounded
shoulders with two of the most fabulous he had ever
seen. They were a little smaller than he remembered and he
imagined that her Boobies outfit was probably designed to
give the impression of exaggerated size. Still, they were
quite large and would hardly disappoint the buyer. Her
nipples and areolas were delightful and fit her beautifully.
Her skin tones were slightly darker, giving the impression of
a rich tan and the nipples were an attractive chocolate
brown which matched ideally. They were also quite well
defined, even when relaxed. He could hardly wait to see
them in their excited state, but strategy dictated waiting. He
noticed her tight and well formed stomach, smooth feminine
hips, and relatively long and graceful legs.
He took careful notice of her pubic mound and what
showed of her labia. Beautiful. Then he noticed how well
manicured her hair seemed. "Do you trim your pubic hair?"
"N. . .No." She stopped herself and took another deep
breath. "No."
She even had attractive feet--which was rare.
"Turn sideways please."
She turned, and as she did so he noticed that Clair
seemed to be watching everything with nervous interest.
"She's beautiful, isn't she, Clair."
Clair nodded.
"Do you find her attractive, Clair."
Clair found the question confusing and it showed in her
expression. What the hell did he want to hear? After a
moment's pause she nodded again.
From the side, Jeannie looked just as good. No trace of
sagging anywhere. Her face had a nice profile, her stood up well, and there was an excellent curve to her ass.
It didn't stick out excessively, but it was well rounded and
didn't droop into her legs. "Turn again please." She started
to turn back toward him, but he indicated with a finger that
she was to turn away so she did so. She was now facing
Clair and Susan. The Trainer studied her from the back and
was quite pleased. Her hair was actually a little longer than
shoulder length so he leaned forward reached up and lifted
her hair to examine the back of her neck and shoulders.
Jeannie started only mildly at the touch. Satisfied he let the
hair fall and still leaning forward said, "Your make-up is a
little mussed, you know."
Jeannie was startled at the banality of the observation
and hadn't a clue what kind of response to make. But since
the statement didn't seem to require an answer she made
none and waited with more than a little trepidation.
The Trainer reached forward and uncuffed her wrists.
Jeannie was now completely naked with the exception of
the collar. He stood up and moved to her side. She looked
up at him. "There is a little bathroom in there," he indicated
a door. "Why don't you go in and freshen up a bit." And
then he added as she started to leave, "Try not to take too
long." And without a word Jeannie padded out through the
door.
* * * * * End of Part 4 * * * * *
THE TRAINING OF JEANNIE AND CLAIR
by Zebulon
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being
posted, and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site
where it is being posted.
* * * * *
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