Training Planet

Home > Other > Training Planet > Page 11
Training Planet Page 11

by Tilton, Emily


  Captain Edwards stopped spanking her. His hand rested gently atop her bottom.

  “What do you want to do, sweetheart? You must learn to say it, and to ask for it by name.”

  Britana never could have done it if she had had to look her master in the face. Since her head hung down over his leg, though, with her dark hair disheveled all around her face, she could whisper, “I want to kneel.”

  At that moment the hand on her bottom moved further down, and Britana, whose knees the captain had spread a little before he pinioned them under his own leg, felt knowing fingers on her pussy. She cried out in a very different way than she had a moment before. The pain from the spanking had become something else, something needy and aching—something that somehow both proved the truth of everything Sister Portia had said and made it not a condemnation but a discovery.

  “You want to kneel and do what?” the captain asked in a soft voice. “You were naughty, Britana, and you received the correction you needed. Now you must ask to be allowed to serve me.”

  Britana heaved a sob from her chest. Little whores must beg, the voice in her mind said: not Sister Portia’s, but Britana’s own.

  “Please, sir,” she whispered. “May I please kneel and learn to suck your cock?”

  Chapter 16

  Vincent helped Britana slide off his knee and onto the thickly carpeted floor in front of the spanking chair. He kept his legs spread, so that she could kneel up in front of him, and with his right hand on her shoulder he guided into her that wonderfully submissive position.

  Britana’s eyes had fixed themselves on the floor, and her lovely brown hair spilled all around her face. Vincent smoothed it back behind her shoulder first on the right and then on the left, letting the tension of the moment slacken just a little, as the sweet naked girl before him calmed after the intensity of her latest taste of old-fashioned discipline.

  Gradually her rapid breathing quieted a little. With his left hand Vincent stroked her hot cheek, using the backs of his knuckles to rub gently along the jawline of her lovely face.

  Britana kept her sweetly pointed chin lowered, but her dark eyes flicked up suddenly, as if she didn’t think she wanted to know what expression her master’s face wore, but couldn’t resist the temptation to see. Vincent, who had waited for exactly that sort of glance, smiled and moved his thumb just under her chin, with the slightest bit of upward pressure, letting the girl know that he would raise her face to look at him when it suited him to do so.

  The inquisitive eyes lowered their gaze, apparently abashed, and Vincent thought he could feel a bit more heat in the pretty face he caressed. He moved his hand again, over her silky cheek, under her adorable ear, to the back of her neck. Britana’s whole body gave a tiny shudder, and to his great satisfaction Vincent saw her hips give a little jerk, her pink bottom squirming as if he had just delivered another little spank.

  He had learned in his experience as an officer exactly how to give a spanking over a girl’s existing welts. Britana had gratified him very fully in her responses to the discipline, and he had no doubt that she had found the experience agonizing to the proper degree—though Vincent had of course taken great care to keep her backside from any further lasting harm.

  Sister Portia had accomplished her purpose of making the girl wince when she sat or even walked for the next day or so, and of making her punished bottom an edifying spectacle for other girls and for herself in the mirror. Vincent’s intention lay in a different direction: the special intimacy that a bare-handed, bare-bottom, over-the-knee spanking created.

  Britana’s shudder left him in no doubt that she expected her new master to bend her face down toward the darkness at the joining of his tree-trunk thighs. Still less did he worry that her own loins had not warmed lewdly at the idea even of being made to look at a man’s hard penis closely for the first time, let alone being made to take it into her innocent little mouth.

  Instead, Vincent used his light grip upon the back of her head to raise her face so that her widening eyes met his.

  “I know this is difficult for you, Britana,” he said gently.

  Her mouth twitched sweetly to the side for an instant, and her eyes flicked downward with such enticing modesty that Vincent’s cock leaped against his thigh. Then, to his surprise, she looked him in the eye again without being commanded to, and said in a voice that seemed to mix confusion with defiance.

  “Then… why are you going to make me do it? Why did you…” Her words fell to a whisper, her face reddening even further. “Why did you spank me?”

  Vincent nodded his chin, making the smile on his face remain reassuring so that he could keep at bay the bit of amusement he naturally felt at Britana’s sweet innocence, her slowly growing understanding of what a dominant man likes, and what he does to get it.

  “Sweetheart, it’s time you know that the most important reason I spanked you is that officers like to spank pretty girls.”

  Britana’s eyes went much wider as she took this in: he could see in her face what a conflict it caused in her mind and body as she came face to face for the first time with this stark truth, and found that instead of repelling her it aroused her instead.

  “But I also spanked you, just as I said, to make it easier for you to do what you must. I said a moment ago that I know it is difficult. You are still going to do it.”

  “But… but that’s mean,” she protested, her brow creasing deeply. She spoke the word mean as if it represented the highest condemnation her culture could pronounce.

  Vincent let his smile fade a little. “Is it, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

  Britana’s lips parted, and her breathing became instantly more labored. He could see in her shocked face that his words had gone straight to her quim, just as he had intended.

  Slowly but firmly Vincent began to lower Britana’s face toward the front of his black synth-cotton pants. She let out a little whining whimper, and resisted a bit at first, but he didn’t allow it: he kept her in place and kept moving her mouth downward.

  “You’re going to kiss me over my trousers, now,” he said. “Remember what you asked to do, just a little while ago. It’s time to learn how to show me the respect a ship girl from a rebel world shows the captain of her starship.”

  With a tiny sob, Britana lowered her face all the way. Vincent’s hardness grew instantly under the little whimpering pecks she bestowed with her pretty mouth. The dark-haired girl must have felt it, for she gave an ambiguous little cry, half shame and half need.

  “Put your hand between your legs,” Vincent commanded. “Play with your little cunny for me.”

  Britana let out the same sort of cry again, but louder and more obviously aroused. Vincent’s cock stirred anew at the sound, and the girl between his thighs thrust her right hand downward, moaning softly and kissing her master’s lap over and over.

  Vincent stroked her head gently with his right hand, using his left to brush her hair back from her face so that he could enjoy the wonderfully wicked sight of a naked girl nuzzling lewdly at the tented front of a man’s trousers. When he put his hand on Britana’s shoulder, he could feel the unseen, naughty movements of her hand down below. In her sweet, submissive sounds, he could hear that the word for which he waited would soon emerge.

  “Please,” she breathed. “Please, sir.”

  He had no need now to make her beg in explicit terms; indeed, his pleasure would find its fulfillment much more readily in action than in words now. Magisterian trousers, whether of the formal sort that made part of an officer’s uniform or of the casual style he wore now, had always opened readily at the fly for exactly the purpose Vincent now commanded of his new ship girl.

  With a deft motion of his hand, he freed his cock so that its long, hard shaft sprang up from his lap. It stood tall, jutting arrogantly out of his underwear, which for a Magisterian had a similar construction to his pants, as Britana drew her pink face back with a little cry of mingled alarm and arousal.

  F
or a long moment he let her merely look at the penis, his hand on her shoulder as he watched her mobile brow work in a show of the many thoughts and feelings—some clearly modest, others clearly very wanton—that must occupy her mind. She bit her lip, and her breath puffed through her nose in a rapid cadence, as her fingers played lewdly between her thighs.

  “Open your mouth, sweetheart,” Vincent said softly. “It’s time.”

  Her eyes rose from his hardness to his eyes for a moment, a sort of beseeching in them, though she still seemed unsure of what she truly wanted.

  Vincent took firm hold of her head again now, though, his left hand twining in Britana’s long dark hair. “Open your mouth,” he repeated, hearing the urgent thickness of his need in his voice. “Or you’ll go right back over my knee.”

  Britana gave a little cry, and her lips parted. Her right hand moved more and more quickly, and her body shuddered in time with its fingers’ naughtiness, invisible to Vincent, as she put the tip of her tongue out just a little. He felt the tension in her neck relax a bit, and he guided her face downward firmly but without any real force.

  She gave another sobbing little cry, and opened her mouth wider, so that he could at last put the head of his cock inside his new ship girl’s lovely body for the first time. With his hand he held her mouth in place, now, and he lifted his hips to thrust himself a little deeper inside the velvet recesses of her pretty face—not enough to tax her fledgling skill as a young fellatrix but rather to begin her training in earnest.

  “That’s it,” he murmured, still holding her firmly as she whimpered around the shaft that filled her mouth. “Just like that. In a moment I’ll let you be in control, and please me that way, but right now you need to learn to have your face fucked like your quim will be in a little while.”

  A shudder went through Britana’s whole nubile, naked body as she gave a little cry of shame around the thrusting shaft of his manhood. Her right shoulder moved almost frantically as her fingers worked their unseen magic in her wet cunny. The arousing noises of a naughty young lady playing with her needy pussy came up from between the girl’s thighs to join the soft, moist sounds of a gentle face-fucking.

  “Someday,” Vincent said softly, his voice dropping to the soothing, taming murmur in which he liked to speak with a new ship girl, “I’ll use your mouth much more deeply.” His hips found a slow, steady rhythm as the ecstasy built in his lower back and in his thighs. His penis moved in and out, in and out of her virgin mouth. Her cheeks, pink with her violated modesty, bulged a little as his cock came and went. “Oh, that’s so nice, Britana. You’re doing so well. Just take it now, sweetheart. It feels so good.”

  Britana’s own hips now moved visibly with the caress of her hand on her needy quim. Her moans around Vincent’s gently moving hardness grew more intense. Long experience told him precisely what to do now, to ensure that the girl learn to look forward to this essential duty, which she would perform again and again aboard the Indus.

  “Are you going to come, Britana?” he said. “You may go ahead. You’re always allowed to come, when you have the cock inside you.”

  At that moment he let go of her head and moved his hands to her shoulders so that he could feel the delicious tremors of her climax. His words, with their implications about how her pleasure would receive regulation as his ship girl, sent Britana right over the edge into orgasm.

  For a moment, as her upper body jerked with the first spasm of her pleasure, she started back with her head, as if she would remove her mouth from the rigid length of Vincent’s penis. Then, remembering the same words that had brought on such ecstasy, she seemed to fight against her instinct, and to win the battle: instead of lifting her head, she lowered it with a submissive sob that nearly brought on Vincent’s own climax.

  Now, as Britana kept coming, she did her best to learn without any instructions how to please a man’s cock. She imitated Vincent’s thrusts, or perhaps she knew about this part of a girl’s oral service from the naughty conversations to which she had alluded. Either way, she bobbed her head up and down, taking him as deeply as she could, crying out as her hips bucked with spasm after spasm of pleasure.

  “Good girl,” Vincent murmured. “Now you may take your mouth from the penis, and kiss my balls.”

  Chapter 17

  Had something in Britana changed, or had she on the contrary realized that she couldn’t change? Her whole body jerked and trembled with the ecstasy Captain Edwards had ordered her to give herself. She hadn’t wanted to do that, had she? He had made her play with herself, hadn’t he?

  He had definitely made her suck his cock—no, much, much worse… something the older girls had never even said a man might do… The captain had held her head and thrust himself inside her mouth.

  He had fucked Britana’s face. Held her head down, and filled her mouth over and over with his hardness, so that her whole world had become his arrogant lap, the dark place between the hairy, muscular thighs over which he had only a few moments since put her for a bare-bottom spanking.

  She hadn’t wanted that… she hadn’t even known a man could do that… but…

  But when she had thrust her hand down between her legs, on his obscene command…

  Oh, powers… it felt so good…

  Captain Edwards’ cock had kept going in and out of her mouth, nearly making her panic and gag, but not quite—as if he truly did mean to teach her… to train her… to help her learn to please him like a good girl.

  It felt so good… it feels so good… how can it feel so good, when it’s so wrong?

  Because Britana Geran was a little whore, just like Sister Portia had said over and over. She hadn’t changed… she had just realized, though she could never confess it to anyone, that she was a little whore.

  She moved her own mouth up and down on the cock, trying to make her lips soft, her tongue pleasant, her body a tender place for a man to enjoy himself as he chose. She had her eyes closed, now, so that she could see herself in her mind’s eye, the kind of little whore who liked to kneel in front of a strong man, liked to suck the long, hard manhood that had grown and stiffened at the sight of her naked body… the thought of fucking slutty Britana Geran in every virgin hole.

  At the realization, her frantic fingers brought on another climax, just at the moment the captain told her she might take her mouth away from his cock and kiss the dark place under. But she didn’t, because he had said she was allowed to climax if his hardness were inside her, and that meant that he would spank her if she came without permission otherwise.

  Instead of following his suggestion—the captain had said you may, after all—she moaned with a high-pitched, desperate, whining sound, and she tried to take more of him inside than she had before, even when he had held her down and thrust up into her mouth. Her fingertips, so slick from the whorish need between her thighs, pressed hard against her clit, rubbed there, moved down to press inside the place that ached—Britana wouldn’t deny it, in her own mind at least—for the rigid shaft she had in her mouth, moved up with more of her lewd nectar to rub again.

  To Britana’s hot-faced, surprised delight, Captain Edwards let out a groan of pleasure. She hadn’t ever heard anything like that sound but she recognized it instantly as the dominant, masculine counterpart of her submissive little sobs. Astonished at how it affected her own body, she felt her hips buck with another little orgasm.

  She held him deeply in her mouth, rose a little, descended again. Her jaw ached, but she wanted to hear him groan again, and he did. For a moment she wondered if she had brought him closer than he wanted to come to his own orgasm, and a wave of accomplished pride went through her.

  Then his groan became a growl, and with a hand in her hair, he lifted her head from his hard shaft, tilting her face back to look down into her eyes. For a moment, the growl made Britana quail, her bottom tingling and her pussy clenching, but the sound had become a chuckle and the captain had a smile on his face.

  “I understand,” he
said softly, though the depth of his voice still held a hint of animalistic gravel. The sound made Britana bring her half-open lips together and let out through them a little whining whimper. She moved them against each other, and they felt strange and numb from her first service to a hard penis. Her mouth opened again, of its own accord, so that she could take the quick, panting breaths her body needed in its state of mingled alarm and arousal. “You wanted to keep coming, didn’t you, little whore?”

  The whimper became a keening sound, and Britana’s fingers’ movements in her virgin pussy grew even more frantic. She felt her bottom squirm, bringing a terrible, delicious renewal of the soreness there—from the head sister’s strap and from the captain’s strong, firm hand. Another orgasm took hold, and a new instinct made her try to bow her head.

  She wanted to have her master’s cock inside her, so that she wouldn’t get another spanking for the whorish pleasure in her pussy. He knew that part of her, it seemed, just as Sister Portia knew it, and so she didn’t have a choice, did she?

  But his hand in her hair stopped the downward motion, and that restraint intensified the climax down below her tummy. Captain Edwards redirected her face, to the side and then down.

  “I gave you an order, sweetheart,” he said, the growl even more pronounced now.

  Britana moaned as she yielded, and allowed him to lower her face to the darkness under the glistening length of his manhood. She smelled the rich musk there, and it made her face hot with shame. She saw distinctly for the first time how the little wrinkly sack hung down there, and knew with a humiliating clench of her pussy that she must serve her master in such a degrading fashion, her face to his balls—under his balls, for the captain moved her mouth further down to where the fragrance came up even stronger, as above her he pumped his hardness in his big hand.

  “Lick there, girl. Keep playing with your little quim, but don’t come again, or I’ll put you back over my knee.”

 

‹ Prev