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Friday, October 21, 2011

Post 70


It was driving me nuts that I had 69 posts. No idea why, it just was.

I wanted to link up some of my stories. I've had people email me about the two series I've been flirting around with for a few years now. "The Trainer" a BDSM set story in a futuristic world and "Becky & Josh" a dd story set on a military installation. When I get into writing moods I post them.

You can find my stories on Spanking Classics under serial spanking stories and the pen name "Spanked Wifey" Spanking Classics is a completely free site.

The link.

Here is what I just posted under "The Trainer."

I have to run off to class but wrote a little bit more on the series today. I hope it wets your whistles.

Rasha hated Randor, she absolutely hated him. She didn’t know if her hatred spun from the fact that he was the only person she had contact with and thus depended on him for everything, or the fact that he was a heathen who cared nothing for her feelings. She hadn’t seen anyone besides him and Freedom for the past week. She had began to wonder if she was really married and if so, where in hades was her husband?

Everyday for the past week Rasha had been given an agenda. The agenda was fairly routine: mornings in class, afternoons in bondage. Everyday there was a task that she had to perform throughout the day. Someday’s the tasks were small; others they were hard to carry out. Each was a lesson on obedience.

The mornings weren’t horrible; she imagined them to be much like what the children of Earth had gone through during their education. She sat at the desk and learned the planet’s history, the government system and their culture. Still, very foreign to her, yet it was becoming more of the norm as Randor played multiple clips of everyday life for her to view.

It was the afternoons Rasha loved to hate. She always had flip flopping butterflies in her stomach as she walked from her sanctuary of a bedroom to the training dungeon. No one else would look at the room as a dungeon, for Randor had given quite a bit of thought to the decorations. Large stain glassed windows so authentic looking that Rasha often forgot they were simply decoration, arched ceilings, clean pale yellow walls, fresh flowers adorning the tables. The room was bright, airy, and some would say relaxing.

Until the eye wondered to the cross in the corner, the spanking bench next to the desk, or the medically sterile section off to one side. Then, perhaps, one might see the room as Rasha did, a torture chamber.

Rasha was extremely conflicted, her inner turmoil beginning to exhibit outward rebellion. She couldn’t understand her body betraying her mind the way it had been lately. Finding pleasure in things that rationale would dictate would bring pain confused her. Yet, night after night, signs were there of pleasure, signs she tried to wash away.

It was the seventh day of training and already Rasha had progressed more then she had under Lord Tariq. Perhaps, it was because she was getting undivided attention and her every move was monitored. Either way, Ken was pleased with his daily reports.

Amidst heavy battle and dealing with the over twenty prisoners he now had, Ken had not had the opportunity to return to ship. He was planning on doing so tonight, as things had calmed down a bit. He wondered about his beautiful bride, would she be pleased to see him or would she show contempt and hatred towards him? He had no doubt that his ache for her went beyond that of physical temptation; in fact, he had grown quite fond of her. She brought life back to him, when he had thought his soul was long dead and buried.

A twinge of jealousy hit him every time he thought of what Randor was doing to her, teaching her, showing her. He wished he could be the man to teach and show his young wife the ways of the world, but, he was very aware of the dangers of postponing such training, especially when the planets were on the brink of another galactic war. Ken had grown up beside Randor, their families very close. When a tragic accident took the life of Randor’s parents, he moved into the palace and was raised as one of the royal children. He was one of the handful of men that Ken trusted implicitly. Ken also knew that Randor’s love for his wife, a love match, not just an arranged marriage, superseded all he did and he did not have to worry about Randor overstepping.

“How is my wife proceeding?” Ken asked during their daily call.

“Very well. The chit is quite intelligent.” Randor replied, he had grown found of Rasha and his tone spoke of it, “Although that stubborn streak is hard to break.”

“I’m not sure I want it broken.” Ken said, “I wish her to bend to my will, not break. Has she gotten down our laws yet?”

“Yes. Every morning she recites them to me. She understands them, not just the words, but the meaning behind them, she also understands the punishments. I have shown her videos of public floggings and discipline.”

“And her dislike of her body?” that was one area that Ken was having a hard time comprehending. Rasha was breathtaking; everyone could see that, everyone, but Rasha.

“Its… going.” The pause was disconcerting to Ken. “She seems to think her body is nothing more then a vessel. I can’t phathom how she got to be this age without ever touching herself, or being touched, for pleasure. I have exercises tonight that I hope will open her mind to exploring, perfect timing for you to step in and take over.” Randor chuckled and explained the details to Ken. Ken found himself aroused thinking of it. He couldn’t wait.


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