She wants to be trained as a sex-

Hannah takes a tantalizingly long deep breath, gathering her courage. Her eyes never leave yours as she speaks. "I need to be dominated, controlled, used as a sex ****... and... Most importantly... trained!"

Her words are full of something resembling fear as if she is scared to ruin good relationships. Yet, underneath that layer, there's undeniable excitement, eagerness and desire to submit that makes your heart race.

"Trained?" Your voice cracks slightly, betraying your surprise. This isn't exactly what you expected. But then again, nothing about Hannah has ever been ordinary.

"Yes," she whispers, almost defensively. "Not just used for pleasure, but molded, shaped... transformed into someone who exists for that purpose."

Your mind reels from her confession. Part of you is in a bizarre disarray, another part is thrilled by the raw honesty and trust she puts forth. And one other, a tiny perverted one, starts imagining scenarios involving Hannah and your deepest fantasies.

"Why?" you manage to **** out, trying hard to sound understanding and supportive. Inside, however, you struggle to process why would a girl who is so gorgeous, so communicative, and so smart, crave such degradation.

"Because... because it turns me on," she admits, looking away briefly. When she meets your gaze again, her expression is almost terrifyingly determined. "I guess I like to be an ideal lover for my man. And to be ideal I must do anything, " she gestures wildly with her arms flying around, "ANYTHING he wants. How he wants, when he wants, whenever he wants."

"But why the training part?" Most men would love to hear something of this nature from their girlfriend, especially if they are as hot as Hannah. But the whole idea of training seems strange, even... cruel and deranged. "Why not simply follow all wishes?"

Hannah looks at you intently, searching for words. Finally, she says, "Without training I can only pretend that I enjoy things. But with proper training, I can truly feel pleasure in doing those things. It's like learning how to appreciate different flavors of ice cream."

She pauses, then adds softly, "And sometimes, I want you to see me like this. Like a ****. A willing one, but still a ****. You are... too caring sometimes"

"I... I...." You stutter not knowing how to react from there. After all, you are quite happy as the two of you are. This fantasy sounds so risky to follow

"You are what?" She asks softly but her grey-blue eyes are filled with anticipation.