Evocation (The Training of Eileen)

by William Vitelli

  He untied the cord from her hair. “Nggggayah!” she cried as the probe slid out of her ass.

  He unbound her wrists and ankles and helped her to stand. “After you!”

  She made her way slowly down the stairs. At the foot, she gathered up her clothes. He followed behind her, picking up her training device while she dressed. She shivered when she saw it.

  “No, it’s not going back in you tonight. Unless you want—”

  “No!” she exclaimed. She blushed at his grin.

  Chapter 13

  They spent the rest of the evening watching television on the couch. The normalcy of it felt jarring to Eileen. How can this be? she asked herself. How can he just sit there like nothing happened, after he made me…do that with my mouth? To a mannequin? She watched him for several long minutes. Look at him! He does these degrading things to me, and then we just sit down like any other couple! And I let him! The sheer ordinariness of it seemed strange, like she was visiting a land that should feel like home but didn’t.

  Eventually, Anthony looked up. “I think it’s time for bed, my darling little whore. Are you sleepy?”

  She nodded. He shut off the TV and stood. She followed him into the bedroom. He undressed, then picked up a pillow and placed it on the floor next to the bed. A quiver ran through her. He pointed to the pillow without speaking.

  Silently, without protest, Eileen stripped off her clothes and knelt. She knew what he intended to do, even before his cock brushed her lips. She ran her hands up his hips. He nodded. Her lips parted for him, and she began to do what she had done to the dummy in the attic.

  It did not take long for his cock to thicken and swell. He let out a long sigh, a moment before he erupted in her mouth. She gagged on the gooey, unpleasant stuff, causing some of it to spill over her bottom lip. She choked, and the rest slid in a wad down her throat.

  Anthony tucked her into bed gently. The chains went around her wrists and ankles. He slipped under the covers behind her. “Sweet dreams,” he murmured. His lips pressed against the back of her neck. “I love you, my slutty little fuck-toy.”

  Sleep reached for her quickly, gathering her into its soft darkness.

  The next morning followed the same pattern as the one before. He woke before she did; she opened her eyes when he unlocked the cuffs chaining her to the bed. When she crawled from under the covers to stand blinking in the morning sun slanting through the windows, he carefully placed a pillow at the bottom of the bed, and another on the floor at its foot.

  She knelt on the pillow on the floor. He handed her the lube. She looked up at him helplessly. “I don’t want it,” she said.

  “I know. You have no choice. You have to do it.”

  “This is rape,” she whispered.

  “Yes. It is.”

  A tremor ran through her. She squeezed a stripe of lube into her fingers. She hated touching herself there, at the entrance to her ass. She hated the feel of the cold, slippery stuff as she pushed it up inside herself. She hated the way he made her do all the work, how he was training her to rape herself anally on his cock.

  But most of all, she hated the knowledge that what was about to happen would probably make her come.

  He waited patiently for her to finish. She bent over with her face buried in the pillow at the end of the bed. He knelt behind her.

  He didn’t speak a word. He showed her what to do with nothing more than the slight pressure of his fingers on her hips. His touch urged her to slide up and down along his shaft until it stood rock hard. He maneuvered the head into the cleft of her ass. Delicately, he coaxed her backward, slowly, wriggling her hips until the end of his cock slid into her anus.

  She took herself on him, moving back against him to drive him deep, again and again, until the butterflies swirled and they both came together. Warm thick semen sprayed up inside her. She screamed into the pillow, not even sure if her muffled sounds were pleasure or disgust.

  Afterward, he led her to the bathroom. She used her body to wash him, just as she had done before. This time, she felt slightly less self-conscious under his gaze, while she ran her hands over her body to lather herself up. When she was soapy, she slid her body against his. His wet, slippery skin sliding against hers felt so good that she lost herself in it, enjoying the sensation so much that the awkwardness disappeared.

  After the shower, he locked the vibrator inside her before making breakfast. It ran at a steady low hum throughout the morning meal, just enough to be arousing without making her frantic.

  That day, after Anthony had left for work, Eileen found herself adapting to the constant stimulation. A part of her attention remained focused on her urgent sexual need, but she could still get through the day in spite of it.

  Even so, there was a limit to the amount of frustration she could endure. She was on the couch, legs spread, moaning softly when Anthony came home. The vibrator had settled into a particularly cruel pattern, buzzing very strongly for a few seconds, then stopping, then vibrating in an irregular fast-slow pattern, then stopping before repeating the strong buzz again. She didn’t open her eyes until Anthony touched her knee.

  “How are you doing, little whore?”

  “Oh.” The device started its powerful vibration. “Oh! Oh, God.”

  “Are you feeling needy? Would you like to come?”

  “Yes!”

  He nodded. With a push of a button, the vibrator stopped. Eileen gasped.

  Anthony went into the kitchen and came back dragging two chairs behind him. He placed them in the middle of the living room facing each other. “Strip,” he commanded.

  She obeyed him meekly. When she had stripped bare, he removed the training device. “Have a seat!”

  He sat in the chair facing her. “I want you to touch yourself. Put your hands on your body. Make yourself come for me.”

  Eileen sat naked and bashful in the chair. She ran her hands over her breasts. He watched color rise in her cheeks. She slipped her fingers between her legs. Eileen felt inhibited by Anthony’s gaze; her body, so close to coming just a few minutes before, felt numb, unresponsive. She looked away. “I can’t. Not with you watching me like that.”

  “No?” Anthony pulled his chair closer. “You came pretty hard in the hotel room when the bellhop was watching you.”

  “That was different!” she said. “That was humiliating.” Her ears burned red.

  “And feeling that way makes you come?”

  “That’s not what I said! I…” She trailed off. He waited.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “It does.”

  “But now?”

  “I feel…different. Self-conscious.”

  “Hmm. I see.” He leaned back. “You do realize that if you don’t come, I will punish you.”

  Eileen’s fingers worked rapidly around her clit. Her breath quickened.

  Anthony smiled slightly. “Oh, yes. Your body belongs to me. If you don’t do as I say, we are going upstairs to your room again, so I can punish that disobedient cunt of yours. Would you like to know how?”

  She moaned.

  “You haven’t seen all the ways I can punish you. If you do not come, I am going to torture your sex. I will strap your ankles to the end of a metal bar that I have waiting for you upstairs. It should hold your legs apart nice and wide. I will attach a chain to that bar, and run the other end through a pulley in the ceiling. And then, little whore, I will hang you upside-down from the ceiling with your legs open. That should put me in a good position to punish that cunt of yours, don’t you think?”

  Her breathing quickened. She watched him intently. Her fingers swirled between her legs.

  “Once I have you hanging there, I will attach a clamp to your clit, nice and tight. I imagine it will probably hurt a great deal. And then…” He smiled evilly. “And then I will introduce you to a very special punishment dildo, that I am just dying for you to meet. It has a pump on the end of it, and when I squeeze that pump, it gets bigger and bigger.” His grin turn
ed predatory. “It can get…” He paused. “Uncomfortably thick. I will fuck you with this dildo, very fast and very deep. There will be nothing you can do to stop it. You won’t be able to do anything except take it. And scream. And when I start inflating it, I’m sure it will be…what’s a good word? Intense. Very intense.”

  “Oh!” Eileen’s breath came in small gasps. Her eyes closed. Fire crept along her skin. His words flowed through her, penetrated her; she could almost see herself bound upside down, feel a thick dildo expanding inside her… “Oh! Oh! Oh, God!” Her own juices trickled around her fingers as they moved faster and faster. Her breathing became ragged. “Oh!”

  She threw back her head and screamed. Just as she came, she shoved four fingers deep inside her clenching sex. “Ooonngh!”

  After her panting slowed, Anthony leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Did that feel good?”

  “Oh. Oh, yes.”

  “Did thinking about me torturing your cunt make you come?”

  She swallowed. “Yes. I…it did.”

  He nodded. “Come with me.”

  Eileen followed him nervously into the bedroom. “Are you going to…what…” She shuddered. “What are you going to do to me?”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to punish you.” He laughed at her expression. “Don’t look so disappointed! You had your orgasm. No need to torture your cunt. At least not right now, anyway. Though I suppose the evening’s still young. Plenty of opportunity for you to misbehave, if you’d like to be punished. Right now it’s time for another lesson, that’s all.”

  “What…kind of lesson?”

  “Well, after watching you touch yourself, I would like to fuck you. Specifically, I intend to be very rough with you. I’m going to fuck you very, very hard. You can struggle, if you like; that’s just fine with me. Or you can be compliant and just lie there and let it happen. Either way, it won’t change how rough I am.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh!”

  “But first, you are going to turn me on. You’re going to get my motor revving so fast I won’t have any choice but to ravish you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. That’s part of your slave duties. There might be times I want to take you, but I’m not really turned on. As a sex slave, it’s your job to arouse me whenever I want to have you.”

  “I…Anthony, I’m not your—”

  “Slave? Oh, but you are. You are going to learn how to arouse me, and then I am going to rape you.” He kissed her forehead gently. “Or if you prefer, I can punish you for disobedience, and then teach you how to arouse me, and then rape you.”

  “No!”

  “Okay, then, it’s settled.” He grinned impishly. “I want you to touch me. The secret to touching someone is to touch with intention. Every time you touch another person, it should always be deliberate. Think about what you are touching, and how.”

  He placed both of his hands on her shoulders. “There are almost as many ways to touch as there are to kiss. A touch can be a tease. A touch can be a seduction, or an offer. A touch can be a promise.” His fingers ran, very lightly, down her arms, raising goose bumps on her skin. “Touch like you mean it. Touch with forethought. Think about how you like to be touched. Pay attention to how my body responds.” His hands caressed her shoulders, slowly, deliberately. “Does this feel good?”

  “Yes,” she said reluctantly.

  “Good.” He moved his hands very gently down over her collarbone. She expected him to fondle her breasts, but he didn’t. His fingers trailed over the sides of her breasts and passed lightly underneath them, without quite touching the most sensitive spots. He moved closer, until she could feel the warmth of his body. His hands slid up her back, tantalizing. She felt shivers along their wake.

  “Now you. Undress me. Touch me.”

  She reached for the button of his short. He intercepted her hands with his. “Your goal is to seduce, then to arouse, then to offer. Don’t go straight for the obvious. There is no rush. Take your time. Touch me!”

  She licked her lips nervously. The self-conscious feeling came back, making her feel shy. “I…” she stammered. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “The best way to be sexy is to think about sex,” he said. “Close your eyes. Imagine that a stranger is seducing you. Think about his hands on your body.”

  “But I don’t want to think about that!”

  “Hush.” He kissed her lips softly. “Close your eyes.”

  She did. Anthony’s voice slid warmly into her thoughts. “Fantasize about it. Think about how he touches you. Think about where he puts his hands. Then touch me.”

  Eileen opened her eyes. Her hands touched his arms, very gently. She trailed her fingers up and down, feeling the smooth fabric of his shirt. She drew closer, so that her breasts were nearly touching him. Her lips moved in on his, until only the tiniest distance separated them. Her hands ran up to his shoulders, still gentle, the caress as soft as silk. When she reached his shoulders, she moved her hands down, just a little, following the collar of his shirt. She traced it back and forth, her fingers casually brushing against his neck. He closed his eyes.

  Her fingers found his top button. It yielded quickly. When it was unfastened, she leaned forward slightly more, her breath warm on the small triangle of skin she had revealed. The tips of her fingers mapped large, slow circles along his chest. When one of them happened, as if by accident, to stray across another button, she laid her hand flat on his chest and tugged it open with the other. Her lips moved closer to his until they barely touched. The tip of her tongue flickered against his lips.

  “Mmm,” he said. “That’s delightful.” His hands slid up her arms. “For this lesson, use only your hands. I already know that you know how to kiss.” He smiled.

  She paused for a moment, flustered.

  Her hands returned to his shoulders. She caressed him gently. Slowly, little by little, she moved closer to him, without quite letting their bodies touch. Her nails moved slowly up his neck, until her fingers tangled in his hair.

  He sighed in pleasure. Eileen ran her hands down his chest, palms warm on his shirt. She pressed into him, just a little, her hips making the slightest bit of contact with his. Her fingers found the next button, and the one after that. Soon his shirt hung open.

  She ran her hands up and down along his chest, feeling his bare skin. He caught one of her hands and brought it up to his lips. “Don’t just think about touching me. Think about how it feels.” His fingers stroked her palm. “Hands are very intimate. Touching someone’s hand is a powerful thing. To often we think of our hands as being just tools, instead of gateways to the world.” He turned her hand over, and lightly, gently, kissed her palm. “Does that feel good?”

  “Mmm, yes. It really does.”

  “When you touch me, I am also touching you. Take pleasure from the feel of my body under your hand. Don’t think of your hand as just a tool. Use it to connect. Use it to communicate your desire.” He held up his hands, palms up. She rested hers lightly on his.

  “Every part of the body is erogenous,” he said. “Touch in places that aren’t often touched.” His fingers moved delicately along her wrists, up her inner arms. “The places where we’re not used to being touched can create powerful responses. Use that to your advantage. Find those places.” He stroked his fingertips unhurriedly across her shoulders, down her sides, underneath her breasts, down across her stomach. Goose bumps followed the course of his touch.

  She placed her hands on his chest. His body felt hard and warm. She moved them slowly down, savoring the feeling of his nipples as they brushed against her palms. When she reached his hips, she moved back up his sides, slowly, beneath his shirt. Her hands moved across his shoulders, pushing the shirt back, letting it slip down his arms and fall to the floor.

  She moved closer to him. Her nipples traced small spirals against his chest. Her hands ran lightly down his arms, circled over his wrists, and back up again. He let out a very soft,
nearly imperceptible moan.

  The sound excited Eileen. His responses made her feel powerful, sexy, seductive, confident. She let her breasts play against his skin while she ran her fingernails lightly down his back. He shivered, very slightly.

  Her fingers followed the line of his hips, just above his pants. When she reached the front, she tugged teasingly at the button, but did not unbutton it. Her hands continued a slow, lazy circuit, up across his stomach, then further up over his chest, until they reached his shoulders. She ran them back down his arms again to his hands. Carefully and deliberately, she took his hands in hers and placed them on her waist.

  He leaned forward to kiss her. She moved back, a playful smile on her lips. “No. Your rules, remember?” A small part of her, somewhere in the back of her mind, was surprised by how confident she felt.

  Her hands moved down his back again. This time, when they reached the buttons of his pants, she pulled it open. Her fingers worked the zipper. Then, without haste, they moved back up, across his chest, over his shoulders, down his arms. His own hands encircled her waist, fingers stroking her skin.

  She repeated the trek again and again, down his back, along his waistband, up his body. Each time, she slipped his pants down just a little bit more, taking his underwear with them. Soon, his semi-erect cock was free.

  She altered her path, then. Each time her hands circled toward his penis, she ran her nails along the sides of his cock, just a simple teasing brush, before she scooted his pants down another inch. Slowly, she seduced him with her hands, feeling the places that made him respond and returning to those places time and again.

  Finally, his pants lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. She knelt in front of him. Her palms slid up and down his inner thighs, avoiding his growing erection. She helped him step out of his pants. When she rose, her hands slid up his legs, along his sides, and all the way up to his neck. Her lips moved close to his. His cock, fully erect, pressed against her.