P03E07

I continued banging her like Howard had taught me, and she didn’t manage to get down very far, but still the strain could really be felt now and bringing her to the edge was getting harder. She had been in the same position for a few hours now, and the wide missionary bang was really starting to get bland and stale. I untied her from the chair, and made her stand up, then told her to turn away from me and bend over, supporting her torso with her hands on a conveniently positioned railing. The balance of this posture was dire enough not to require any bondage.

I admired her ass sticking out to the back for a bit, appreciating the proud roundness of a perfect arc, then realized I shouldn’t leave her vacant too long. When I pierced her pussy again, she had to fight to prevent falling over, and even when the position stabilized, she had to deliver a consistent effort to withstand my resumed pounding without toppling.

I still wanted her consciousness close to me, without drifting off, and as I resumed a relaxed but thorough intrusion I said: “So tell me about yourself. How did you wind up here?”

She replied: “Oh, you know. Like all girls do, I guess.”

“I don’t know. Tell me about it.”

She mused: “Well I don’t know either, I suppose. Not even for myself. But I do know where it started. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I do.”

“Well, when I was a little girl, I was difficult and unruly. Disobedient, secretive, rebellious. And when I had been particularly bad, my father would lock me up in a cupboard. It was completely dark and very small, I could hardly move in it, just lie down on the wooden floor of it. If I tried to get up I hit the ceiling, I couldn’t even turn on my side. I knew I had been bad, I knew exactly what I had done, and I knew I was being punished for it… and I actually felt guilty and ashamed, remorseful and bad. But that wasn’t all. The silence and the darkness made my spirit come to rest. I had no control over anything, I could just lie there, crammed in a cupboard, and wait for my father to decide my punishment was over. I didn’t need to fight or rebel there, it wasn’t just pointless but it also wasn’t needed. There was no fury or unease. I could just yield to my fate there. And it felt very good. It was ascetic and erotic at the same time, even if I had no idea what those words meant. But I absolutely knew that it had something to do with my underbelly.“

“How long would your father keep you in there?”

“Oh, not long. He was a loving man, not a monster, and he probably felt very distressed about doing it at all. Childhood memories get distorted, but I think it must have been like fifteen minutes, maybe half an hour. Then he would release me, and speak an edifying sermon. I’d be meek and compliant, and we would reconcile. I might even get an ice cream. “

“So it worked? As a punishment?”

“Well, yes and no. That was the immediate effect. But afterwards, my discontent and undirected anxiety quickly flared up again. Even worse than before. Within a few days, I reverted back to the bad behavior that he was fighting. Tantrums, yelling, aggression, resistance. And I would find myself in that cupboard again, and the dark confinement would soothe me again. “

“He must have been worried?”

“He must have been ****. The cycle went faster and faster. I think I actually raised those tantrums in myself, just so he would lock me up again. It felt so good in there! The quietness lulled me into tranquility and evoked that magnificent warm glow in my underbelly. I must have been about eight years old, way too young to understand anything about sex, but I actually started some sort of precursor of masturbation in there… I would bring my hand down, cup my Venus mound, and squeeze it, so hard that it hurt sometimes. But even then it felt good. “

“So did he find out about that?”

“I don’t think so. But he must have decided at some point that the method wasn’t working, that I was completely spinning out of control. Either way, it stopped. Only the sermons remained, and I took them in silent protest, tight-lipped. I felt like I was deprived of something, I missed the quiet darkness of the cupboard. But of course I couldn’t tell him that. “

I nodded. No, parents couldn’t understand those sentiments in their children.

I pitched up to full fucking speed again. She quickly rushed to another orgasm, and I allowed her to come down from it this time, offering her a sip of water.

After a wee bit of rest and then reinstituting a slow thrust at full depth, we continued discussing her road to submission: the desire, the pitfalls, the inner conflicts, the doubts and the shame, the promise of satisfaction, the eventual rapture after she married. She was candid and elaborate, even though she hackled and hesitated sometimes, especially when I turned up the rhythm, and she had trouble keeping up with the conversation in the haze of her arousal. In the end, she just fell silent, consumed by the unrelenting blast, and I let her subside into the sensation.

The afternoon went by pleasantly, perhaps even quietly. Of course I kept fucking her, but it seemed to become a cadence, something ordinary and commonplace. The rush between zero and fuck had been taken long ago, and we were just traveling the Highlands now, on elevated but level ground. It was peaceful over there. The sensation on my dick was pleasant and completely relaxed. I knew I could have sped up and launch in her in a matter of a minute all through the afternoon, but I just didn’t, and it gave me the stamina to just keep riding her.

I drew interspersed orgasms from her which didn’t miss their effect. After each one, her fatigue and sore grew, and she became more receptive, more meek, more subdued. After a while she was no longer able to comply to posture commands when I bound her into a new position, and her body felt heavy and inert when I molded her into position anyway.

I felt powerful, completely in control of the situation. I didn’t feel like doing anything unusual, just providing this pupil with a proper and much appreciated extended fuck. I was not just a rookie with saucer eyes anymore, I was really growing into my role in this community. I had been chosen to take some sort of test, training this girl, but I appreciated that very much, and I felt like I was gloriously succeeding it. If these old guys weren’t able to fuck their wives sufficiently anymore, I was happy to fill in for them. Dave would be pleased when he got his wife back.