His Indecent Training 3

by Sky Corgan

  “Have you ever gotten someone pregnant before?”

  “No, but I've had a few scares, and it's never fun.”

  I made a soft noise in reply and cuddled tighter against him. What would I do if Damien Reed got me pregnant? While I was certainly too young for children, I couldn't help but think we'd make beautiful babies together. Maybe someday. Was that even allowed in a BDSM relationship? Did he want children later on? There was so much I still didn't know.

  He continued, “Have you put any thought into whether you want to continue your training or not?”

  “I have,” I replied.

  “And?”

  “I'm nervous about all the extra rules you're going to make me follow, but I think I'm ready for it.”

  “There really aren't too many more rules. For as strict as you think I am, I'm not very strict.”

  “Will the no masturbating rule be on the new contract?” I asked with a smirk, my mind drawn once more to the thought of Damien's cock throbbing painfully beneath his jeans with desire. The image was enough to make me want to climb on top of him and go for a second round, but I stifled the urge, content with being by his side.

  “It will be for you. Not for me,” he said, making me scowl.

  “That's not very fair,” I pouted.

  “Life isn't fair, my dear.”

  I supposed it wasn't. Fair was a world where Damien didn't lose his job just for being with me. It was a world where age didn't matter, only love. No, life wasn't fair.

  “Since you're going to lose your job anyway, does this mean we can start going out together now . . . like a normal couple?” I hesitated, feeling greedy.

  He took a deep breath. “It's funny you should bring that up. Tomorrow, I'd like for you to attend a munch with me.”

  “A munch?” I scrunched my nose at the word, immediately thinking about carpet munching. My clit throbbed with approval.

  “It's a public social gathering for people of the lifestyle. I thought it would be good for you to meet other Dominants and submissives.”

  “Oh,” I replied, unsure of what else to say. All I could picture was a room full of leather and vinyl clad people walking around and talking to each other. “How many people will be there?”

  “It varies. With this particular group, it can be anywhere from six to thirty people.”

  “That's a lot of people.”

  “Luckily, they're having it at a burger joint this time. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to take you. They usually have it at a bar.”

  So he is going to take me out in public. The thought was exciting, though this was far from the first date that I had pictured.

  “Am I going to have to dress up in leathers and wear my collar?” I asked, even though I didn't own any leathers to dress up in.

  “No,” he gave a short breathy laugh. “It's a very casual event. People wear their normal everyday clothing.”

  “So, it's kind of just like a luncheon then?”

  “Kind of.”

  “That doesn't sound too bad.”

  “It isn't.”

  “What time is it?”

  “One. So, it's going to be an early day tomorrow. I hope that doesn't conflict with your plans. I know this is a bit last minute, so I'll understand if you can't go. I wasn't informed of it until last night.”

  “I'll go,” I said quickly. There was no way I was going to miss a change to be out with Damien in public. Not that I had any plans anyway. At most, I might have gone to see my mother, since I knew she almost always had Sundays off. This would be a lot more fun though.

  “Good. Shall we go look over your training contract?” he asked, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving to sit up.

  “Mhm.” I nodded, standing to follow him into the living room.

  The paperwork was waiting for me on the coffee table, the same as usual. I picked it up and looked it over, noticing that a new set of vocabulary words had been placed on top of it.

  “Did you finish your definitions?” Damien inquired.

  “Yes, but I left them out in the car.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he corrected me. “You've got a lot of corner time coming for that constant slip up, if I remember correctly.”

  I groaned internally. Why did I have such a hard time calling him Sir?

  “So do you want me to get my definitions first, punish me, or have me sign this contract?”

  He thought for a moment. “You can give me your definitions before you leave. Read the contract first. If there are any changes that need to be made, then you won't sign it until tomorrow because it will have to be revised. Afterward, we'll worry about punishment.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I straightened the papers, moving the vocabulary list to the back to focus on the contract.

  At the top, it said Training Contract. Below, the verbiage was pretty much the same as what I had received in the contract of consideration, except for that this contract addressed things specific to my training instead of my consideration. Aside from that, there were only a few minor changes, mostly involving the level of discipline I'd receive, an increase in assignments, which included keeping a detailed journal of my sessions with Damien and my feelings towards my submission, and the expectations of higher standards. I was also to turn in my schedule to Damien once a week, not that he didn't already know it, and basically inform him of where I would be at all times. When I got to the last page of the contract, which listed my hard and soft limits, I didn't know if I should smirk or be angry. Damien had moved most of my hard limits to the soft limit area. Crafty bugger.

  “No,” I told him, lifting the page, so he could see and pointing directly at the list of soft limits.

  He frowned. “Chey, I really want you to try those things. Just once. If you don't like them, we'll put them back on the list of hard limits.”

  “You tried to trick me with this. You should be the one punished.”

  Damien's mouth twisted into a grin. “Alright, you got me there. Part of me did hope you wouldn't read it.”

  “That's horribly horribly wrong of you. Is it normal for a Dominant to be so deceptive?”

  “No,” he admitted. “And I know it was wrong. Is wrong. But you're really missing out if you don't try those things.”

  “I'm well aware of that. Stop being a bad Dominant. Move then where they belong, or I don't sign.”

  Though I was a bit upset, the whole flow of the conversation was playful. It was amusing to see he'd resort to such trickery to get what he wanted. Then again, he had tried to slip his cock in my butt a few times, so maybe I had given him too much credit. Damien could be a sneaky one.

  “Fine,” he said, standing up and leaving the room.

  For a moment, I thought he was actually mad that I had seen through his little scheme, but then I decided it didn't matter. He should have known better, and he would certainly get over it.

  Damien returned minutes later with several items in hand: a piece of paper, a chain collar, and a small box. He only handed me the paper and then went to sit back down. When I looked at it, I noticed it was a revised list of my hard and soft limits, with everything in the right place.

  “You anticipated I'd find out,” I muttered.

  “I did.”

  “I feel like I should read this whole thing again, just in case you slipped something else in there I don't approve of.”

  “Nothing else is out of the ordinary, I promise.”

  I gave him a suspicious glance. “If it is, can I punish you?”

  He laughed. “You really don't trust me that much?”

  “Not after this.” I flicked the contract.

  “Chey, I promise. There's nothing else sneaky.”

  “Good. Give me a pen then. I think I'm ready.”

  “Are you sure you don't want to discuss any of the stuff in there first?”

  “I'm sure. I think I can handle this.”

  “Alright.” He pulled a pen out of his pocket and handed it to me. When we had both sig
ned the contract, he offered the chain collar to me. “Take off your collar of consideration. This is going to be your new training collar.”

  I tried not to frown as I took it from him. The thing was thick and heavy in my hand, and I knew it would be nowhere near as comfortable as the leather collar. Part of me wanted to ask if I could just keep the one I had, but I knew that wasn't how this worked.

  Fastening it around my neck signified the next step in our relationship, and despite the fact I didn't particularly like the training collar, putting it on did fill me with a strange sense of accomplishment. Things were progressing as they should. Six months in training, and I would be getting my formal collar—the wedding ring collar. Damien Reed would belong to me, and I would belong to him in a very official sense. That was all that mattered.

  My heart sped up as Damien offered me the box. For a moment, I hesitated, fearing my own reaction. No matter what was inside, I could not show disappointment or seem ungrateful. As my Dominant, Damien could make me wear whatever he wanted.

  When the lid came open though, relief rushed through me. The collar inside looked more like a piece of costume jewelry. A braided strip of black leather formed a choker, bound at the back by a small padlock. Attached to the front of the collar was a silver infinity charm inlaid with white rhinestones.

  “It's . . . lovely,” I said, pulling it out of the box and then looking under the lining for a key to the padlock.

  “I have the key,” he told me.

  “Do you want me to put it on now?”

  “No. It will only be used for when we're out in public together.”

  “Like when we go to the munch?”

  “Yes.” He paused, “Do you know what that symbol is?”

  “It's the infinity symbol.”

  “That's correct. I chose it because I hope we'll be together for eternity.”

  I swooned at his words. In a fit of emotion, I crossed the space between us, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a gracious kiss. He looked genuinely shocked by my actions.

  “I love it,” I told him, feeling suddenly childish for my dramatic reaction to his words.

  Damien smiled warmly at me. “I'm glad.”

  I slipped back over to my side of the sofa and placed the collar carefully in its box, admiring it for a moment more before I closed the lid. A symbol of Damien's love, or at least his desire for us to be together. Strangely, I could hardly wait to wear it.

  “Now that the fun part is over, it's time for your punishment,” he said.

  In that moment, I was so stupidly happy I didn't even care. Nothing was going to ruin my mood.

  Damien continued, “Since I did kind of try to deceive you, I've decided to be merciful. Technically, with all of your recent slip-ups, you've earned about an hour of punishment. I'll reduce your sentence to thirty minutes though, and even give you a chance to reduce it further.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I said gratefully, setting the box down on the coffee table.

  “I'm going to ask you two questions about your previous vocabulary words. For each one you answer correctly, I'll subtract ten minutes from your punishment time. However, if you get one wrong, I'll add ten minutes, so instead of being punished for thirty minutes, it will be for forty minutes. If you get them both wrong, you'll be punished for fifty minutes. If you get them both right, you'll only have to endure ten minutes. If you get one wrong and one right, then you'll be back at thirty minutes. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I nodded. While I understood, it didn't seem like much of an improvement if I lost. What was it with Damien and all these games he liked to play?

  “Your first word is auction.”

  Maybe he was taking it easy on me. This word, I remembered.

  “An auction is a meeting where Dominants get together to auction off their slaves and submissives for a specified period of time,” I replied with confidence.

  “Very good. Ten minutes down. Now your punishment can't be more than thirty minutes. Your next term is black sheet party.”

  I took a deep breath. This one was a bit more difficult. “A black sheet party is a party for those into the BDSM lifestyle,” my answer sounded more like a question. I couldn't help but feel like I was leaving something important out.

  “No.” Damien shook his head. “A black sheet part is an orgy for people who are into BDSM.”

  Damn. Oh well, thirty minutes was still better than an hour.

  “Cheyenne, I only give you ten words at a time to memorize. Is it really that difficult?” He arched an eyebrow at me.

  Here was the degradation I had grown to expect. Damien was in full Dom mode now. I could see it in his eyes.

  “Sir, please do keep in mind that I have a full load of college work I also have to concentrate on during the week.”

  “I do keep that in mind. It's why I give you only ten words instead of fifty to memorize.”

  Holy crap. Would he actually expect me to memorize that many in a week? It wasn't impossible, but seemed a bit excessive. I hoped he wouldn't be upping the load during my holiday vacation.

  “I'm ready for my punishment, Sir,” I said, bowing my head respectfully. The sooner it was over with, the sooner with could get on to things that were more fun, like perhaps a round two in the bedroom.

  Damien pulled something from his pocket. I stared at it curiously. A tennis ball. What did he plan to do with that?

  He held it up, so I could see it. “I want you to take this over to the wall and use your nose to keep it in place against the wall. No hands. Each time you drop it, another ten minutes gets added to your time. Do you understand?”

  You've got to be fucking kidding me. There was no way I was going to be able to hold that thing in place for thirty minutes. What happened to him being lenient?

  “Sir, if you may forgive me for saying so, I don't think I'm going to be able to accomplish this task without dropping the ball several times.”

  He handed the small thing over to me. “Think of this as a lesson in your bodily discipline. You'll get better at it with time.”

  I scowled. “But what if I drop it fifty times?”

  “Then I hope you're prepared to spend the night. To the wall with you.” He waved me away dismissively.

  While I had wanted to spend the night with Damien almost since I had met him, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Grudgingly, I took the ball and headed over to the nearest wall, not even looking back to make sure the place I had picked pleased him. With a sigh, I positioned the ball against the wall, then pressed my nose to it, refusing to let go until I felt certain it wouldn't roll away.

  “Put your hands behind your back. I'll let you know when the time is up,” he told me.

  I dropped the ball for the first time five minutes in when my nose started itching. My heart sank as it landed on the carpet with a soft thud. Ten more minutes was added to my punishment time.

  Damien sat on the sofa for a while, reading something on his phone and watching me in his peripheral vision. Eventually, he left to take a shower, warning me that he'd know if I cheated. That's when the ball dropped a second time thanks to me scowling. He had to have cameras planted in the room if he was making that threat. And I didn't put it past him to watch them after I left.

  The happiness from my swooning at his loving words faded away with my continued submission to his punishment. Damien entered and left the room several times, and I could have sworn he was purposely trying to make me mess up. While the thought brought me even more discontent, I didn't dare to show it, lest the ball drop again.

  Minutes felt like hours standing as still as a statue. I tried to imagine watching a movie from start to finish while I waited, though my brain seemed to have the fast-forward button pressed. Then I repeated the words 'Yes, Sir' in my head about two dozen times. After that, I decided to count to pass the time, having nothing better to do. Every time I dropped the ball, the count started over.

  My feet ached, and I shifted
my weight. The ball fell. Damien entered the room. The ball fell. My nose got a twitch. The ball fell. A random shiver rolled down my spine. The ball fell.

  I was quickly becoming tired. How long had I stood there? How much longer would I have to stand there? How many more times would the ball fall? I was beginning to think Damien was serious about keeping me there all night. His kindness had turned into cruelty. Instead of standing against the wall for only thirty minutes, I was certain I had been there for well over an hour.

  Finally, Damien walked into the room and announced that my punishment was over. I sighed in relief, stepping back and catching the ball in my hand as it fell a final time.

  “Now what must you do?” he asked me.

  “Thank you for my punishment, Sir. I was punished because I continued to forget to call you Sir. I will do my best not to make the same mistake again.”

  “Good girl. It's late. Bring me your definitions and then you can go home. Oh, and you have a second set of definitions to write that I want turned in tomorrow afternoon. Do you remember the term you forgot?”

  “Yes, Sir. Black sheet party. It's an orgy between those within the BDSM lifestyle.”

  “Excellent. You are dismissed.”

  Exhausted, I quickly hurried to my car to retrieve my vocabulary homework. When I turned it into Damien, he looked at it with no hint of approval. It must have satisfied him well enough though, because he didn't say anything further.

  Afterward, he led me to the door. All hints of perversion that had been in my mind before my punishment had faded away. The only thing I was thinking about now was going home and relaxing for the rest of the afternoon in a less stuffy environment. For as much as I wanted to be by Damien's side, moments like this made me doubt myself. I hated his punishments, even though he made me lie and say I was thankful for them. It was all part of my training though. Hopefully, someday he wouldn't need to punish me anymore.

  Munch

  My stomach twisted nervously as I got ready for the munch the following day. Even though Damien told me I could dress casually, I still wasn't sure what to wear. Would my normal style be looked at as too conservative? I could only imagine that most of the other submissives, if not all of them, would probably be in sexy attire to please their Masters.