Training Carrie Chapter 19 I told her it was time to go upstairs. We would shower together, then find some way to pass the time in the bedroom until nearly lunch. I asked her if she wanted another picnic this afternoon. She said how about another grand tour of all the "unrest areas," to use her phrase, instead. I asked her if she wanted to wear her harness, and she said she would rather Philip see her naked than see her in that. If it was Ok with her Master, she would like to save the harness for the basement or for weekends. I told her that was perfectly acceptable, her Master didn't want to offend Philip any more than necessary. It looked like Philip had more or less accepted her nakedness and her Slave status, we should not push him farther than that for the present. I told her we could take the nipple clips and weights, and put them on her after we were out of sight of the house. She smiled and said that would be nice. She asked if she could have the butt plug, too. I agreed. She kissed me, then jumped up and assumed the Waiting Pose, in anticipation of being told she was under formal speech. Not to disappoint, I got up, clipped her wrists behind her back, kissed her, and said, "Formal speech, let's go." With my hand caressing her ass, she walked to the door. I unlocked the door, grabbed her kit, and followed her up the stairs. In the mural room, I took off her bonds. I told her to move her kit into the bedroom, and handed her the nipple clips and weights. I told her to put them with the plug in the bathroom, so we wouldn't forget them, and wait for me there. I noticed by the bedroom clock that it was 10:45. I went looking for Philip, and found him doing laundry. I told him we would like a light lunch at noon, whatever he could easily fix. I said we were taking another hike this afternoon, and not taking any beer with us. He smiled. Returning to the bathroom, I found Carrie as I knew I would, in the Waiting Pose. I asked her if she would like another enema, and she said, "Yes, no soap, please." I said Ok, just body temperature water. She asked how she could choose that temperature without a thermometer. I told her if it didn't feel warm or cold to her fingers, it was pretty close to body temperature. She prepared the enema, handed it to me, and assumed her Pose on the floor. Following our usual ritual, I slapped her lightly on the ass when the tube was in, then started the flow. I warned her before removing the tube, then told her she could do her waiting in a sitting position today. She hopped up and sat down, and as usual I knelt in front of her. Gripping her thighs lightly, I gave her a long, deep kiss. I caressed her breasts for awhile, telling her how beautiful she was, and how perfect her body was for me. She blushed and said she was far from perfect. I told her that I never said she was perfect, I said she was perfect for me, and that was the truth. She said she felt so passionate about me that she was sometimes afraid she would lose herself in me. I told her she must never let that happen, because it was she that meant everything to me, not my reflection in her eyes. To get away from such deep conversation, I asked her how she would like it if someday we filled her with an enema, inserted the butt plug, and then went for a hike. She turned bright red, and said she would hate it. She said that it would be so humiliating to do that to her, and as she was talking I could see that she changed her mind. "How long would the hike last?" she asked. "An hour, maybe two. Of course, I would fuck you a couple of times while we were out. ... Not in the ass, naturally." She laughed. She said sure, if I really wanted to do that, she was in. I told her I hoped she was in, I had no intention of doing it alone. She laughed again, and asked when we would do it. I told her I didn't know if we would ever do it, I just wanted to know how she would feel about it. She said she guessed she would agree to anything her Master wanted her to do, "such is his power over me," to again quote her. I told her she could let go now, and she did. I made her keep trying gently to expel everything for a few minutes, then let her up and took her place. When I was finished and we had both used the bidet, I had her get the shower ready. As usual, we washed one another. I washed her hair, then we rinsed off and dried one another. I combed out her hair, then took her to the bedroom and blow dried and brushed it. I told her that I wanted to put some lipstick on her, not much, very subtle. She chose the right tube for the job, then spun around on her bench for me. I knelt in front of her and did the best I could. I told her to take a look, and she spun back around and looked at her lips for a minute. "Not bad for your first time," she said. I told her she could remove it if she didn't like the job I had done. She said No, it looked fine, she would keep it on. I really couldn't tell if she meant it, or she was just being nice, but I decided that either way was fine. I told her it was still 25 minutes until lunch, and asked her what she would like to do. She leered at me, and said she would like to ravage my manly cock with her freshly painted lips. I told her I bet she couldn't make me last 20 minutes without ever breaking contact. She said did that mean she had to be in contact with my dick the whole time, and I said Yes. She laughed and said of course she could, she could make me last all day, but I would have to let her tie me down for that. She asked me what the bet was, and I said loser carries the whole load on the hike, coming and going. "Deal," she said, "Get on that bed, NOW." "Yes, Mistress," I said as I dove for the bed and rolled onto my back. "Hard and ready for you, Mistress." Of course she made me last, it was a dumb bet. But when the 20 minutes were up, she was a bad winner. She refused to finish me, saying I would have to wait until our first unrest stop. I pleaded and begged, to no avail. As I was getting up to dress, looking sullen and whipped, she put her hand on my chest, and kissed me. She asked if I knew she was kidding, that she would bring me to orgasm right now if I wished. I told her I knew she would, it was friendly ribbing between lovers, her lover was happy to wait for his woman's attentions. I dressed her in her house blouse and heels, and we went to lunch. It was a few minutes after 12. Philip had lunch all ready for us. It looked a little more complex than I had indicated we needed. I suspected he was doing penance for deceiving Carrie. I seated her, watching that she pulled up the tail of her blouse correctly, then sat across the corner of the table from her. Before we dug in, I put my hand out, and she put her hand in mine. Our eyes met, and I told her I loved her. She grinned and said, "Me too, lets eat." We joked about my bedroom bet and made small talk as we ate. She wanted to know why I would make such a stupid bet in the first place, and I said I wanted to see if she would try at all, or just plant a big 20-minute kiss on the side of my cock. Smiling, she said, "I tried. I tried hard, you just couldn't rise to the occasion." I smiled too, and said I was sure she was trying as hard as possible to lose the bet, she was just so incompetent she couldn't figure out how to do it. That made her laugh, and she said we were even on bad sex partner jokes now, did we want to move on to the second round? I laughed too, and told her we should take our winnings and stop at round 1. Lunch was so plentiful that we left most of it uneaten. Now I was sure Philip had been overcompensating, he never put out this much food for us before. I asked Carrie if she wanted to digest awhile, or set out on our walk. She said digest, so I got up and pulled out her chair as she rose. I held out my hand, and said, "May I have a dance?" "Why, I thought you'd never ask," she replied. I led her into the living room and turned on the radio. I asked her if she wanted to keep her heels on or take them off, and she said either way, what would her Master prefer? I said first dance on, second dance off. when the news break ended and the next song began, we danced. We danced through two more songs, then took a break. I sprinted back into the dining room to find Philip clearing the table. I snatched away our half full tea glasses, and returned to Carrie. "Champagne, Madame?" I asked, holding out the tea glass. "Why, thank you, Monsieur. I'd love a taste." She chugged all the tea in her glass, then handed the glass back to me and said, "Charming vintage." "Shoes off, second dance," I said. She kicked them off, and we danced some more. After about 15 minutes I told her we didn't need to go walking today, I would be just as happy to dance with her all afternoon. She said she would make a deal with me. If I would give her 2 hours of dancing and conversation, she would give me 2 hours of great fucking. I pulled her over to the couch and had her sit down. I sat beside her, facing her, and took her hands in mine. I told her she didn't have to make deals with me to get to do the things she wanted. We could dance any time she wanted to, and she didn't have to pay me back with fucking. I asked her if she had thought all along that she had to fuck me to get to do other things besides fucking. And I asked her to tell me what else, beside dancing, she had wanted to do, but wasn't getting to do. Her eyes teared up, and she said that what she had said was stupid, she didn't mean it to sound like she was trying to bargain with sex, and she didn't mean it to sound like I was forcing her to have sex. I asked her if she could explain what she was thinking when she said it. She was quiet for a minute, then she told me she knew why she had said it, and she might as well tell me the reason and get it over with. She said that there was really only one thing she was not getting to do, and it was not because of me. She wanted to leave the house. She wanted to go out, to the city, to take in the nightlife, to be seen with her Master and be displayed by him for others to admire. She said she was always having fantasies of how her Master could display her or humiliate her in front of others for his own pleasure or amusement. She had talked of this before, during one of her workouts, and now she started telling me about more of the fantasies. Some were scary, but others were cute or humorous. In one of her fantasies, she was in a high-class bar in an upscale hotel, sitting alone at a table. The room was full of obviously well-to-do, young, stag males. One by one, they all tried to pick her up, or buy her a drink, or sit at her table, and she told them all to take a hike. Finally, when they had all been rejected, I walked through the room in a pair of jeans and a torn t-shirt. I paused at her table just long enough to ask her, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, if she wanted to blow me in the parking lot. She immediately got up and followed me out. I recognized that immediately as her Carnegie Hall fantasy, scaled down slightly. After hearing her out, I wasn't sure what to tell her. I first asked her if she knew why leaving her property was a bad idea. She said of course she did, that was the problem. It wasn't like she was being held here, she knew she should stay for her own good. But that didn't make it any easier. She said that, before they brought me here, she was always busy overseeing the remodeling, or the construction and furnishing of the basement, or a million-and-one other things. Only at night was she idle, and then she was a victim of her terror. When I arrived, her focus became the all-consuming desire to be my perfect Slave. She said that is still her focus, but she sees that there is a bigger world than this small property and this smaller house, where she can demonstrate to everyone, not just her Master, the depth and intensity of her devotion and love for him and her desire to be his perfect Slave. She said she is driven to demonstrate her love for me. It's too intense for her to keep it bottled up inside, she has to show other people how she feels. I told her that showing her off in public, the way she was fantasizing, was a perfect way to get me shot, and her beaten up and raped. I didn't foresee us doing much of what she was thinking about. As far as taking her out for a night on the town, as just Bill and Carrie, for dinner and dancing or a show, that's something I would love to do. I told her I wouldn't have to publicly humiliate her, that having her on my arm, looking like she did for either of her meetings with Bill, would turn every man we met green with envy. But I just thought it was too risky to consider doing it as long as we had the organization to worry about. I said we should go right now and talk to Philip, and ask him to come up with some plan or method that would allow us to get away. Hell, with her money, we could hire bodyguards, charter a plane, and go somewhere far away, perhaps for long enough for her to get this out of her system. She said that was worth considering, but she and I should talk about it more later, and try to come up with a specific scenario to present to Philip, and see if it was practical to do it. Ok, I said, we would keep talking about the problem until we solved it. But for right now, today, short of crashing through the gate in front of Philip's house and driving to the city, which I was not up for, what did she want to do? She looked into my eyes, and said she wanted to dance with me, and talk to me, and laugh with me, and cry with me, and make long, passionate love with me, in any order that it happened to turn out. I asked her if she would like some wine. She said she would love it. I went to get a bottle of wine and some glasses. Philip was in the kitchen, and I told him we wouldn't be taking a walk today. He asked me if there was a problem, and I said Yes, Carrie was having a case of cabin fever. She wanted her Master to take her out on the town and show her off. "You can't do that, Sir!" he immediately said. I told him I would be happy to stay here with her forever, and never set foot off the property. But if she wanted to get out for awhile, and if there was a way to allow it and ensure her safety, we should let her. I told Philip he should get behind us on this, and work with us. Because if I couldn't change her mind, I was going to find a way for her to do what she wanted, and his advice would be valuable. Returning to Carrie with the wine and glasses, I poured a glass for each of us, and waited for her to take a sip. I told her again that we would keep talking about how to get away for awhile, but she had to understand that it wouldn't happen today, or this week, or probably for many weeks. Her Master did not want this unsatisfied longing on her part to keep darkening his Slave's mood, so she needed to get her mind right about this issue, trust that her Master would find a way to solve the problem, and stop dwelling on it in the meantime. Did she think she could do that? She said she could, and would. I said there was one other issue we had to discuss now, and then we could enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I told her that sex had not been an issue for me when I was telling her we didn't have to go walking today. In fact, I assumed I was foregoing sexual activity when I offered to dance all afternoon with her. It hurt me deeply then, when she offered to trade me sex for the dancing I had already said we would do if she wished it. She had to understand that if sex was my goal, I would simply push her into the bedroom, or throw her on the floor, or bend her over a chair and fuck her, as was my right. Maybe she was thinking one thing and said something else, I didn't know. But I never wanted to hear her try to bargain sex with me again. If she wanted something, all she had to do was clearly state what she wanted, and the odds were very high, if it was within her Master's power, she would get it. Did she understand? She had tears in her eyes. She said she knew she was out of line, she didn't say what she really wanted, and she regretted the poorly thought-out words she used. She knew that sex was the Master's right whenever he wanted it, and is not a bargaining tool. She couldn't explain her choice of words, but she regretted them, she apologized, and she promised to never say anything like that again. I said the offense was forgotten, and it was my wish that we could both be happy and enjoy being together, whatever we were doing. I said that dancing and conversation sounded like something I would enjoy doing this afternoon, and there was no one I would enjoy doing it with more than her. She said she felt the same way, and that she was going to try harder to communicate with her Master and avoid future unnecessary misunderstanding and conflict between us. I asked her if she had a pullover sweater that was long enough to cover her ass while she had her arms around her Master's neck. She looked puzzled, but said yes, she did. It was in the discard pile. She never wore it anyway, because it was too long. I told her we should have a look, and we went to the guest bedroom. She showed me the sweater. I took off her blouse and had her put it on. I asked her if it was too heavy for her to wear in the house. She said No, it wouldn't be too hot unless she was really exerting herself. I took her to the full length mirror, positioned her with her back to the mirror, and had her put her arms around my neck. Her ass was still covered, barely. I led her to our bathroom. I asked her how she would like to wear her nipple clips and weights, and her butt plug, while we were dancing and talking the afternoon away. She smiled at me, and said "Master, you devil." I had her hold the sweater up in front while I attached the nipple clips and tightened both of them. Then I attached the weights. I nodded at her and she dropped the sweater, then went and leaned over the tub without being told. I greased up the plug and slipped it into her ass, then wiped off the excess lubricant. She straightened up and spun around with her arms out from her sides. "May I have the next dance?" I asked. She took my hand and led me back into the living room. A good dance song had just started. I kicked off my shoes and we began to dance. We talked almost continuously while we danced. The first thing she told me was that she was trying to make a joke when she offered to trade sex for dancing, it just didn't come out right, and she was very sorry she hurt me. I looked at her and said that I knew she loved me, and I loved her, and there was no problem we couldn't solve together if each of us made the other understand what was needed. I told her we would be Ok, and if there was any way to get her out of here for some R and R, I would find a way to do it. But she had to understand that, if there was no way to safely do it, then our life here would have to go on, and she would have to find a way to accept that situation. She said she would find a way to set her mind right about it. She knew her Master would work the problem until it was solved, or until it was shown that no solution existed, and she would trust that process. She kissed me and told me she loved me, and she was my Slave, my lover, and my woman forever. After perhaps 10 minutes of dancing, I asked her how the weights and the plug felt. She said, "Delicious, sexy, wonderful. I think constantly of my Master inside my ass and my Master stimulating my nipples, and my enslavement to my Master is reinforced with each swing of the weights and each sensation in my ass. Master, I'm sorry I'm always complaining about something or other. It's not fair to you. You are so giving and caring and concerned for your Slave's happiness, and in turn I'm constantly bitching at you about some insignificant, trivial, bullshit. I don't like the way I'm acting, how can I change it? I know if you were the harsh Master I deserve, you would have whipped this out of me by now, or would simply forbid me to ever speak. I want to change for you, tell me how, tell me how to be the kind of Slave you deserve." I thought of several things I could say in response. Finally I told her, "Talking is the answer to everything. You are the Slave I want, my beautiful, smart, sexy, Carrie. I accept you as you are. You don't need to be fixed, you just need to be loved. I only want to love you as you deserve, and together we can solve your problems and my problems, and we will stay together and grow together and love together. She reached up and kissed me, then said she thought we should adjourn to the bedroom for awhile, then perhaps dance some more. I grabbed the wine bottle and my glass. She picked up her glass, then led me by the hand into the bedroom. As soon as I had closed the bedroom door, she pulled off her sweater. She told me she didn't like it when her body was hidden from me, it seemed natural to her now to be naked before her Master. I told her that was what I preferred, also, but I could remember for a few hours at a time what a luscious, sexy, desirable body she had. Standing in front of her, I ran my hands over her body, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin and her response to my touch. She began moaning softly and swaying to cause her weights to swing. She said she loved her Master's touch on her body. She said she had treated me cruelly as a joke before lunch, when she wouldn't give me an orgasm. She said that was something else any Master but me would have whipped her for. She wanted to make it up to me now, and asked me to please lead her to the bed. We went to the bed, then she kissed me tenderly and asked me to please lie down on my back. I asked her if she wanted me to remove her weights, since they would pull cruelly on her nipples when she was leaning over. She said no, she was due a little cruelty this afternoon. I lay down on my back, and she crawled onto the bed and positioned herself between my legs. With an evil grin, she said, "Just relax, Master, I promise this won't hurt a bit." She gave me a long, slow, amazing blow job. She held me just short of an orgasm for over half an hour. I told her several times she was making me crazy. Once she smiled and said, "Welcome to the club, Master, you've been making me crazy all afternoon with your 'little Masters' on my tits and up my ass. Try to hold out, Master, I promise it will be worth your while." She didn't lie. When she finally let me cum, I thought my cock would never stop pumping. It was like I hadn't had sex for a month, as opposed to the reality of being drained dry by my insatiable Slave every day for a week. She caught it all, and licked the plate clean. After tenderly kissing my cock and balls, she looked up and asked, "How was it?" "Who taught you to do all of those things?" I asked. "I know it wasn't me, because I've never experienced half of what you just did to me." She blushed. "Master, I'm self taught. These lips have never touched any cock but yours. ... That's not counting two cock-shaped water fountains I've had some fun times with, Master." We both laughed. I said I doubt she had learned much from them. "Their output is kind of tasteless, too. I prefer the output from my Master. Very tasty," she said, licking her lips. She paused, and looked at me for a few seconds. "Master, I want to ask you something, but I'm afraid of what your answer might be." I told her she must never be afraid to say or ask anything. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Master, would you ever pee in your Slave's mouth?" I asked her why she would think that might happen. She said it had occurred to her that a Master who wanted to humiliate and punish his Slave might think of doing that. I told her that was true, some men did that to women to humiliate them, and some women actually wanted it done to them; and to add to the variety, sometimes the woman did it to the man. I asked her if she had thought what the next logical progression would be after a man had pissed in his woman's mouth. She thought for a few seconds, and got a disgusted look on her face. "Oh, Master, that's awful. Could anyone actually do that to another person?" I told her they could, and they do. I knew she now needed her original question answered. She was still kneeling between my legs. I sat up and held out my hands for her. She put her hands in mine, and automatically spread her knees and assumed the Learning Pose on the bed. I told her that we weren't about that level of humiliation. A little humiliation, like having her bare her ass to sit down, was good. But to progress to the things we had been talking about was beyond humiliation, it was degradation, reducing the slave to an animal or worse. I said I didn't understand why one person would want to use another as a toilet, unless motivated by hatred. So the answer to her question was No, I would never pee in her mouth. Smiling, I added that I already knew she hated the taste of her own urine, I doubted she would like mine any better. I reminded her that a lot of her fantasies had a theme of increased degradation. While there was nothing wrong with fantasies, she should recognize the pattern, and not let the fantasies lead her to seek more degrading behavior than her Master expected from her in real life. She said that, because her master was so tolerant and loving and willing to consider his Slave's wishes, there was a danger that she might unconsciously try to push our relationship in undesirable directions, and she asked her Master to watch for such things and correct his Slave when necessary. I told her that I was always doing that, but that she must also do the same for me, because that was crucial to our partnership. She smiled and said I was right, as usual. I told her I would like some more dancing and talking and wine drinking. She said she was thinking the same thing. I got dressed, then asked her if she wanted to keep her weights and plug. She nodded that she did, so I put her sweater back on and straightened her hair with my hands, gathered up the wine and glasses, and led her to the living room. I asked her if she would mind wearing her heels while we danced, and she said she would be pleased to, it raised her mouth closer to her Master's. We both put on our shoes, sipped some more wine, and began dancing. We didn't speak for a long time, I just held her close and she rested her head on my shoulder, nuzzling the side of my face. Occasionally I would lean down and kiss her, and occasionally I would hear a contented sigh from her. I don't think she came once all the time she was in my arms. I wondered whether she was suppressing orgasms on purpose, or she was thinking more about romance than sex. It didn't matter, her orgasms were for her pleasure, whenever she chose it. We had been dancing continuously like this for a long time, perhaps an hour, when I noticed Philip was in the room. He was just standing with his arms folded and smiling at us. I said hello to him. Carrie didn't lift her head from my shoulder, but she also greeted him. Philip said he had just come to tell us he was leaving for the day, but it was such a pleasure watching us like this, he didn't want to leave. I asked him if he wanted to stay and talk, we would be happy to stop dancing and sit down with him. He said it would be a sin to interrupt what he was seeing, and he was going to leave. He said he had prepared tonight's dinner for us. It was in the oven and all we had to do was heat it up for half an hour before eating. Then he said goodnight and left. When I heard the door close, I moved my hands temporarily to her hips. She took her head off my shoulder and looked at me questioningly. "Sweater. Off. Now," I said, smiling. We didn't miss a step as she peeled the sweater off and shook out her hair. Grinning at me, she shook her boobs and made the weights sway. Then she rested her head on my shoulder again and wrapped her arms around my waist. I held her and told her I loved her. She sighed.