by Kitty Thomas
Mr. Graysen disappeared out of the room and down a long hallway. This was definitely not how she'd imagined things would go down. She'd thought he might treat her like a whore because in truth, her outfit was definitely too sexy for daytime office wear.
She'd worried he might come on to her, or ask weird questions she wouldn't know how to answer. She stood and walked over to the window to gaze down at the city. The view was pretty terrifying.
A few minutes later he returned. Shannon turned from the window. “I guess you're not afraid of heights.”
He chuckled. “I base jump. So, no. Not afraid of heights. Here's your receipt. Your account is open and ready for use. There are no daily spending limits but our security system will keep an eye on transactions, so if they start breaking whatever pattern you establish we might call Dr. Smith to confirm everything is in order. If you lose either card, just give us a call and we'll take care of it.”
Saturday was a long, lazy day at the house. Shannon had just finished lunch and planned to go lie beside the pool with Julie, Mina, and Annette, but that plan was about to die a quick death because Lindsay now crossed the cafeteria with fierce purpose in his gaze. When he reached the table, he leaned in close to her, whispering gruffly in her ear.
“Put your tray away and come with me.”
She was startled by his tone. “A-am I in trouble?” She couldn't think of what she might have done. He seemed pretty amped up about something.
He chuckled. “No, you're not in trouble. At least not yet.” he allowed the enigmatic riddle to hang in the air as he rose back to his full imposing height, towering over her. He waited expectantly for the obedience that always came.
She felt flustered but got up and took her tray back to the drop-off counter. Lindsay was immediately upon her, his hand pressing against her lower back, guiding her out of the cafeteria and down one of the long hallways.
“Where are we going?”
“To our private dungeon.”
This was a punishment. It had to be. But what had she done? She couldn't think of anything. He took her to the set of dungeons he'd told her about but had never brought her to... until now. When had he had time to set it up?
Off her confused expression he said: “Gabe set it up for me while we were at work in the city this week.” Lindsay unlocked the door of one of the cells and led her inside. “I need your help training our new trainers.”
Shannon wasn't sure what to look at first. The walls were lined with implements of pain and pleasure. Expensive sex and bondage furniture was scattered about the room in a pattern that certainly only made sense to Lindsay.
There were five strange men in the room. They were young, hot, virile, and... hungry. The looks they were giving her... she hadn't had looks like that in a long time from anyone but the doctor and Damian. Suddenly she felt very self-conscious about the scars on her back. Surely those hungry gazes would fade to disgust or disinterest the moment they saw them. Just because it didn't disgust Damian or Lindsay didn't mean these men wouldn't judge.
Only a few feet away was a fancy, comfortable-looking bed that was definitely not a feature in Brian's dungeons. She had a very strong suspicion she was about to be fucked on this bed for a hungry and rapt audience. That thought made her sex come awake and pulse with need. She could already feel the wetness flooding her panties. But even so... the scars.
“I- I can't,” she said, backing up, but she only found herself more ensnared by Lindsay as she backed further into his arms.
He leaned next to her ear. “You can, and you will. If any of these foolish punks makes you feel insecure or unwanted, he'll wish he'd never been born. I'll personally inject anyone who chooses to live so dangerously with a horse tranquilizer and send them down to Brian.”
She shuddered.
He didn't exactly say any of this quietly, and when Shannon looked up, she could see the men had heard the threat very clearly. But those hungry gazes hadn't abated. They were like wolves excited to be alone with a lost, delicious lamb—already planning how they would devour her.
“Undress,” Lindsay ordered.
She hesitated, still afraid for them to see the scars.
“Don't make me ask twice. I'm supposed to be training them, but I can just as easily punish you. They need to learn that, too.”
Shannon swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. She was suddenly aware of how she must have looked to the men in her tight low slung jeans, nearly sheer white low -cut T-shirt, black bra, her nipples protruding even with the bra. She carefully removed the jeans and peeled the T-shirt off.
“Undergarments as well,” he demanded.
She couldn't bring herself to look at the strangers as she carefully unclasped the bra and slowly slid the straps down her arms. She dropped the scrap of black silk on the pile of clothes, then bent to slide her panties down. She flung the matching piece of silk on top of the other clothes she'd discarded.
“Go lie down on the bed.”
“Yes, Master.” She knew he'd want the title—especially with an audience. It was a power and control thing. She knew him well enough to know he'd want her status with him made plain for this group of horny new trainers. Shannon avoided the men's eyes and went to lie on the bed.
She shivered as Lindsay's heated gaze seemed to become lost tracing the curves of her flesh. Then he turned his attention to his excited students.
“The first lesson. Making a woman come. I know you think you know how to do this. Trust me when I say you most likely do not. When training a woman to please you, pain should be used judiciously and only for punishment. It is so much easier and better to control her with pleasure. And unless we're dealing with pain sluts, this is our standard training protocol. If you want a woman to excitedly rush to please you, you want her to know you can deliver pain. You want her to fear that possibility, but to be drawn more strongly by the other things you can deliver. You want to be the flame your little moth can't stay away from. Even though she knows it's bad for her.”
Lindsay had slowly loosened his tie while giving this speech. He removed it and draped it over a chair. He unbuttoned his pants and without even the slightest bit of discomfort at having an audience—even a male audience—he freed his growing erection from the confines of the fabric. Who knew Lindsay was an exhibitionist? The surprises never stopped coming with this one.
He turned to Shannon, dark intent in his gaze. “Scoot to the edge of the bed and spread your legs wide so everyone can get a clear view.”
She felt the blush start in her chest then move up her neck and into her face. After everything, she didn't know why she acted like such an innocent virgin about this stuff. But it had been a long time since she'd had an audience—especially one of strangers.
Shannon scooted to the edge and did as he demanded. She chanced a glance over to the men. Large erections strained against pants as they drank her in as though they were crawling dehydrated through a desert, and she was their oasis.
Without preamble, Lindsay thrust into her. She was already wet and ready but it was still jarring. Suddenly he was pounding away at her in a way very unlike his normal style—except for that first time in the cafeteria when there had been real passion and different body angles. But he'd never taken her in this almost robotic, mindlessly pumping way before.
She felt... stunned. It took her a moment to process what was happening. Was she actually having bad sex? With Lindsay? This seemed utterly impossible. But here it was happening, and with an audience. She tried to look interested, engaged, like this wasn't the worst sexual experience of her entire life.
A few minutes of this worthless fucking passed and then he looked at her and said “Come. Now.”
Was he kidding? What the fuck? Maybe he didn't perform well in front of others, and no one had told him. She couldn't bring herself to be the first. She couldn't embarrass him or... hurt his feelings? It seemed laughable the idea that she could hurt his feelings... but the male ego was... well, it wa
s something.
“NOW! Shannon,” he growled.
She did the only thing she knew to do. She started to writhe and moan. She threw her head back in abandon. She grinded helplessly against him even though nothing he was doing was in any way bringing her even the remotest pleasure. In fact, she was starting to dry out a little, and so the faster she faked her orgasm, the better.
Still, she warred with herself. If she faked it, he'd think she actually liked being fucked like this. He might repeat it over and over. Was she dooming herself to bad sex with this man? How had her perfect existence with him turned such a hard sharp corner so easily?
Fuck it. She had to do it. There was no other way out of this situation. She moaned louder and louder and then a minute or two later let out a shriek and arched up off the bed as she clenched her body and then fell bonelessly back against the pillows, putting a mask of dreamy satisfaction on her face.
After her imaginary climax was complete, he pounded into her harder and let out his own roar of pleasure. Then he pulled out.
Shannon felt dazed. What in the fuck had just happened? And how was it happening to her? With him? It hadn't been just mildly unsatisfying sex. It had been objectively the worst sex her body had ever been subjected to. And that was saying something.
Lindsay had already tucked himself back inside his pants and zipped up, a look of male satisfaction on his face. The men looked like they'd just witnessed a sex god in action. Oh yeah. She'd forgotten about those idiots for a moment in her abject horror over this situation. It was hard to think of them as hot right now since they'd just lapped up that performance and bought it without question. She only hoped Lindsay had as well.
“Shannon,” he said calmly, turning to her.
“Yes, Master?”
“Did you come?”
“I- of course I did. You saw it.”
“Did I?”
Oh shit. Did he know she'd faked that?
“Shannon, don't lie. If you lie to me, I will punish you worse than what you're getting for faking your orgasm. It will be far better for you if you just tell the truth. Did. You. Come?”
She looked down at her uncovered nudity and the trail of his spendings that had covered her thighs when he'd pulled out of her. The evidence of his pleasure mocked her. He definitely had come. Sex had never felt like such a gross and shameful act before. It was as though he'd just used her body to masturbate inside. Her very existence had been incidental to his pleasure.
“No, Master, I didn't.”
Her gaze drifted very briefly to the men for their reaction. They appeared utterly shocked.
“Of course you didn't,” Lindsay said.
“But... you saw her. You heard her! Did you see how she clenched up like that? She definitely came,” one of the men said.
“You unbelievable dolt,” Lindsay said in exasperation to the trainer-in-training. “Do you really think a woman can come from a man artlessly pounding into her that way? You think the very power of my words and demands can make an orgasm magically appear from thin air?”
Oh thank god, Shannon thought. This was just some weird object lesson.
“Why did you lie to me?” he asked, rounding on her.
She gestured to the men. “I didn't want to make you look bad.”
He seemed almost touched by the admission, but he quickly schooled his features back to those of a stern professor.
How had he known she was faking it?
“Would you all like to know how I knew she was faking it?” he asked, as if he'd just read her mind. Or maybe he'd just read the open and confused expression that was no doubt painted across her face. Or it was the next part of the lesson.
Several nods.
“First, how many of you are sure your women have all come during sex with you?”
They all raised their hands, ever the good pupils.
“I very much doubt that,” Lindsay continued. “In fact, I bet they've all been faking it. Statistically at least a few of your lovers have faked their orgasms, particularly during intercourse, and if you can't tell the difference, the hard truth is... they all have. I've had hundreds of women come on my cock, so I know exactly what it's supposed to feel like.”
He had their attention now.
Lindsay continued. “When a woman comes around your cock, you will feel distinct pulsing flutters in quick succession, as her little cunt has a series of small pleasurable contractions. Some women think they can fake this by doing quick kegels, clenching those muscles rapidly themselves. But they can't do it that rapidly. Another sign she is actually truly coming is her nipples will become erect. If her nipples are not erect, I don't care what kind of light show she's giving you with the moans and groans and arching and writhing... it's not real. There are other ways you may be able to tell depending on how well you know a particular woman, but these two are the most important to remember. And the most trustworthy indicators. Bottom line, if you know this, a woman cannot fake an orgasm with you. But she also can't magically have one if you don't know what the fuck you're doing or where all her nerve endings are bundled and how to stroke, and lick, and suck them.”
Shannon was quickly becoming aroused again by this lesson. Lindsay should teach sex ed to every young man about to embark on becoming a sex god in his own mind.
One of the men asked, “No offense to her, but what does it ultimately matter? I mean I understand pleasure makes them more willing to please, but what if they end up with a master who doesn't know all this? Or doesn't care?”
“They won't. We screen carefully. It isn't enough to have money to purchase one of our girls. You have to know how to fuck and pleasure and punish a woman's body. If you were to go to an animal rescue organization to adopt a dog, you'd find they don't give a pet to just anybody with the money to pay. They make prospects answer questions to make sure they can properly care for the animal. They do a home visit and inspection. They go with their gut. When our merchandise is so much more valuable, why would you think the requirements for one of our girls would be any less? You think we're impressed here solely by big bank accounts?”
The men stared blankly at him. They had definitely thought they wouldn't have to really learn anything, that they would only be training women to please them no matter what the women wanted. Shannon was happy to see Lindsay disabusing them of this notion. She'd always known all the men at the house were amazing lovers, but it hadn't occurred to her that it was because they'd all been specifically taught to be. It further hadn't occurred to her that prospective buyers would be held to such standards of knowledge and skill—so they could properly care for their pets.
Lindsay really had intended for Shannon to be happy when he'd brought her to the house. Her attention went back to him when he spoke again.
“How many of you have been in a relationship where the sex was great in the beginning and frequent and she seemed really into it but after a while she stopped wanting to have it until the sex dried up completely?”
All hands cautiously raised.
“Yes, gentlemen. They were all faking it. Let me ask you, if you were having sex with a woman and the sex act was defined by when she had her orgasm whether you had one or not and you nearly never had one and definitely not just from sex... would you be eager to engage in this frustrating activity over and over and over again, nearly every day for years or even decades?”
It was like a light bulb was coming on. Shannon could practically read the thoughts in their heads. Oh my god. Women like sex. They just don't like bad sex. And we're bad at it.
Poor disillusioned darlings.
“Well then why do they act like they like it for so long?”
“They keep thinking it'll get better,” Shannon surprised herself by saying. Lindsay seemed a bit surprised she'd interjected as well, though not angry. “We're told sex gets better with time and you just need to learn what the other person likes and we really like the guy and we don't want to hurt his feelings. I mean you have the intern
et! This information is out there. We assume you'll care and learn it.”
Lindsay laughed. “She does have a point. Maybe if you'd be a bit more willing to learn, you might magically find a woman whose appetite matches your own.”
“Well also, it takes women too long to come,” one of the men who hadn't spoken yet, said as if he were dropping a secret of the universe on them all. “It's quicker for men.”
Lindsay moved back over to Shannon and began to slowly stroke between her legs. They fell open under his touch. His fingertips lightly skimmed over the slippery wet folds of her sex. She arched into him and let out a whimper.
“Actually,” Lindsay said as if he could barely tolerate their stupidity, “the vast majority of women are highly responsive to sexual touch. If you know where and how to touch them.” He dipped a finger inside her and gently stroked, hitting a small hidden nub of pleasure. She let out a stuttering gasp and gripped the sheets.
“Master, please.”
He chuckled and pulled his hand away making her want to crawl to him and do whatever it took to get him to go back to touching her that way.
“This, is real,” he said, “Now. Who's ready to learn?”
Every hand went up.
“Excellent. The first lesson. Oral sex.”
The men looked at her like they expected she'd be on her knees very soon.
“For her,” Lindsay said. “While we do train our girls, most of them are actually already very good at this. I question if you were paying attention when Anton told you you would be getting trained today. Shannon's already trained. She doesn't need to learn how to please you. She already knows. She could make any one of you have the best orgasm of your life in under five minutes. You have to learn how to please her, and by extension, all our other pets waiting to be adopted by a good master.”
One of them was still not fully getting this, still wrapped up in his master-of-the-manor fantasies where nubile young women lived to serve him and he didn't have to have any finesse at all. He said “Okay, but aren't they slaves?”