Elicitation (The Training of Eileen)

by William Vitelli

  A cab drove by, light on. Anthony stepped forward and flagged it down. Eileen blushed furiously and hid herself behind him, reluctant to be seen by anyone. The car slowed and pulled up at the curb, He opened the door and gestured. “After you.”

  She climbed silently into the cab, avoiding the driver’s gaze, and sat awkwardly in the back seat with her legs apart. She offered a silent prayer that he would not talk to her.

  Anthony sat beside her and flashed the cabbie his disarming smile. He gave the address to the hotel, and put his arm around her as the cab sped away from the curb.

  “I’m glad you came by when you did,” Anthony said. “I think we were completely lost!”

  “American?” the cabbie asked. “Tourists?”

  “Is it that obvious?” he laughed. “Yep. We’re here for our honeymoon.” He wrapped his arm more tightly around her and drew her close. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

  She flushed and made a small sound, unable to speak.

  The cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror met hers, and she turned a deeper red. “You shouldn’t be walking in strange neighborhoods at night,” he said. “No telling what kind of trouble you might get in to. Especially the missus.”

  Eileen turned her face into Anthony’s shoulder. He smiled at the cabbie again. “My wife is a bit shy. At least when it comes to talking to people.” His hand curled around her breast, and he pinched her nipple lightly. She shuddered and whimpered through the panties wadded up in her mouth. “In other ways, she’s not shy at all. I’m sure you’ve probably noticed she’s not wearing any underthings.” His hand squeezed and groped, then slid inside her dress. His touch on bare skin made her moan involuntarily. “We had an interesting first honeymoon night, let me tell you!”

  The cab driver’s eyes scarcely seemed to leave the rearview mirror through the entire trip. Eileen flushed red and whimpered helplessly as Anthony’s hands squeezed and fondled her breasts, none too gently, on the ride home. Every touch on her exquisitely sensitive nipples drew out another moan and another blush.

  By some miracle, they made it to their destination without a traffic accident. When they pulled up in front of the hotel, her emotions were a roiling mix of arousal and shame. She hated the way her body turned against her, how the things he did to her made her respond, but at the same time a small part of her didn’t want his hands to stop touching her. It’s okay, it’s not my fault, he’s making me do this…

  Anthony gave the cabbie a knowing wink as they left the cab. The car sped off, and Anthony led her into the hotel.

  He groped and fondled her roughly in the elevator on the ride up to their suite. She squirmed and tried to push him away. Instantly, he whipped out the knife from his pocket. Her breath caught in her throat as he slipped it beneath the neck of the dress. He pinned her to the wall and in one motion sliced the dress from neckline to hem. The fabric made a ripping sound as the knife tore through it. It fell from her, leaving her standing entirely nude in the elevator.

  “We’ve been through this,” he said mildly as he ran the tip of the knife lightly over her chest. “You are a sex slave. You are not allowed to push me away.”

  The elevator dinged and lurched to a stop. He folded the knife and returned it to his pocket. When the door opened, he grabbed her tightly by the arm and the hair and pushed her out, leaving the dress where it lay on the elevator floor. The come-soaked scrap of cloth in her mouth stifled her squeal. She reddened in shame. He held her firmly with one hand while he unlocked the door, then pushed her into the suite ahead of him.

  Once inside, he pulled her head back and fished the panties out of her mouth. She gasped and breathed deeply, breasts heaving.

  “You’ve been a very good fuck toy today,” he said. “I’m very pleased. Your body really likes being used for sex. So tonight, I’m going to give you a choice.” He pulled her hair more tightly, forcing her head back still further, and ran his fingers lightly over her face. “I can shove things up that wonderful, tight little ass of yours and then use you in filthy ways for my own pleasure, or we can just call it a night and go to sleep. What do you think?”

  “I—please, I just want to go to sleep,” she quavered.

  “Hmm,” he said. His hand caressed her shoulder and slid down her side. “That’s not quite what I meant. Perhaps what I should have said is I’ll let your body choose. Which one do you think your body wants?” He took her hand in his, still holding her by the hair. “If you’re wet between your legs, that means your body hasn’t had enough yet, and it still wants to be used for sex. Wouldn’t you agree?” He placed her hand between her legs. “Now tell me, are you wet or not?”

  “I don’t want it!” she cried.

  He grabbed her tightly and shoved her own fingers roughly into her snatch. “I don’t care,” he said. “I’m asking your body. Are you wet or not?”

  She shuddered. Tears rolled down her face, but she said nothing. He pulled her hand away and held her fingers up in front of her face. Wetness glistened.

  “Are you wet? Does your body want it?”

  She shook her head mutely.

  “No? You look pretty wet to me.” He shoved her fingers into her mouth. “Do you taste your wetness on your fingers? Tell me!”

  More tears flowed. She nodded, very slightly.

  “There, that’s better,” he said as he drew her hand away. “Now tell me the truth. Are you wet between your legs?”

  “Yes,” she sobbed, staring at the floor.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes…yes, I’m wet.”

  “And does that mean your body wants to be used for sex?”

  She opened her mouth to say “no.” He pulled her hair tightly and his hand squeezed her breast, painfully hard. A dangerous light glinted in his eye. “Think carefully about how you answer.”

  “Y-yes,” she stammered.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes! Yes, my body wants to be used for sex!”

  He let go of her. “Lie down on the floor,” he commanded. She did as she was told, lying awkwardly on her side. He bent over and used the tiny key to remove the bands around her thighs. “Wait here.”

  He left her lying on the floor and crossed into the bedroom. She lay still, trembling, until he returned carrying a large bottle and the familiar metal probe. “Turn over,” he said. “Face down.”

  She rolled over. The coarse carpet felt rough on her tender skin, and her breasts ballooned out beneath her. Tears dripped into the carpet.

  He stood over her and upended the bottle. She flinched as lube splattered over her ass and drizzled between her cheeks. When he was satisfied, he bent over and grabbed her ankle, dragging her legs apart. He squatted over her and sat on her hips, using his weight to hold her in place, and with both hands he shoved the probe home.

  She screamed and clawed the carpet, trying to escape. He clamped his thighs tightly around her and pushed harder, until the probe had slid in completely to the base. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated, trying to force herself to relax around the invader, the way she had with the ginger. Her hands tightened into balls, gripped the carpet hard. “Waugh!”

  When it was buried completely in her ass, he stood. As he rose, he grabbed her by the ankle, dragging her around onto her back. She cried out anew as the end of the probe made its presence felt within her. Her panting gasps leveled out, and slowly, reluctantly, her body relaxed around the metal shaft.

  He unfastened his pants and kicked them off casually, then without a word knelt on the floor between her legs. “Come here.”

  Using both hands, he took her by the hips and pulled her up onto his lap. She cried out as his hard cock penetrated her easily, and lay unmoving on her back, legs splayed around his hips. He pulled her onto his erection, over and over, and soon her breathing changed.

  “That’s what I thought, little whore. You really do like being used for sex!” His thumb slipped between the folds of her labia and pressed directly on her clit. The stretc
hing, burning pain of the probe in her ass faded, and before long her hips were undulating against him.

  “That’s good.” He pressed harder on her clitoris, and she gasped. Her hips worked quickly against his, her breathing fast and ragged. It’s okay, it’s not my fault, I can’t help it…

  Then, irresistible, the familiar rush was on her. She screamed and clenched tight around him. He leaned forward as she came, and slapped both of her breasts hard. She yelped and thrashed in a combination of pain and ecstasy; the slaps seemed only to make her orgasm more intense.

  It did not last long. The orgasm ended quickly, and she lay limply on her back, panting. He pushed her to her side and walked to the bedroom, shedding his clothes as he went, leaving her curled on the floor. “Come here, little whore,” he called. “There’s one more thing you have to do.”

  She whimpered weakly and stirred. The hard metal probe shifted inside her, and her knees buckled. She tried to rise to her feet; as she did, it pressed against something sensitive inside her, sending an unexpected shock of pleasure through her. Her knees buckled.

  “Come here,” he said again. She whimpered.

  “If you are not in here in three seconds, you will be punished,” he said. “One…”

  She tried to rise again. The probe shifted, and this time, it hurt. She cried out and fell heavily to her knees.

  “Two…”

  Whimpering in shame, she crawled on her hands and knees toward the bedroom. Every step created a jolt of sensation, almost unbearable in its intensity, but she couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain.

  “Ah, there you are.” He spread his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed, and pointed to the floor between his legs. “I want you right here.”

  She forced herself to crawl over to him, eyes fixed on the floor beneath her. When she was kneeling at his feet, he took her chin in his hand, and forced her to look up at him “Do you know what’s going to happen now?”

  She nodded silently. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

  “And what is that?” he asked.

  “You…you…” She sniffled. “You’re going to put your…put yourself in my m-m-mouth, and then…” Her voice trailed off into a sob.

  “No,” he said.

  She looked up at him, surprised.

  “No, I am not going to put myself in your mouth. You are. I am going to sit here, while you take my cock in your mouth and suck me off.” He leaned back with his arms behind him.

  “I don’t want to!”

  He sighed, in the manner of a patient teacher dealing with a particularly troublesome student. “It does not matter what you want. You are a sex slave; you will be used in any manner you’re told. During this part of your training, you will be fucked and probed and you will have your mouth filled whether you want it or not. During the next phase of your training, when we get home, you will be taught to want it, but for now, it doesn’t matter what you want. All that matters is you will be punished if you do not obey. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, eyes brimming.

  “Put your hands between your legs,” he commanded. “Put your fingers inside your cunt.” The word hit her like a slap across her face, and she jumped back slightly, reeling. He leaned forward, voice low and clear. “Do. It. Now.”

  Something in his tone carried the promise of consequences. His demands, and her feelings of humiliation, became too much, and she could no longer hold back. She began sobbing hard, tears flowing down her face as she reached between her legs. She made a choked gasping sound when her fingers penetrated her. Wetness poured around them, and she cried harder at this tangible sign of her body’s desire.

  “Grab the probe with your other hand.”

  Her fingers curled around hard metal.

  “Fuck your ass and masturbate.”

  Sobs wracked her body. With her hand shaking, she fumbled at the probe, drawing it partway out. The end was slippery and hard to grip, and the lube he’d drizzled all over her dripped down her legs in long, glistening trails. She moved her fingers inside herself and pushed the probe back up. Pain and need and desire slammed into her, and she let out a surprised “whuf!” of air.

  “Harder.”

  She moved her fingers in and out. Her body responded with ferocity, pussy clenching, nipples hard. She wept harder, betrayed again by her own responses. Please, no, I don’t want this, why does it feel so good?

  “Now use your mouth, little whore. Suck me off!”

  Weeping, moaning, she opened her mouth and bent over. A shudder ran through her as her lips closed around his erection. She remained that way for a moment, fingers working between her legs, lips sealed around the head of his cock; the hard probe made wet slurping noises as it moved in and out.

  “That’s good. Move your head. Use your tongue.”

  She hesitated. This was the first time he had not held her down and violated her by force; doing it this way felt…different, and she was not quite sure what to do. She moved her head up and down, tentatively, and pressed her tongue against the underside of his shaft. A growing feeling of tightness built between her legs, distracting her; her fingers moved of their own accord, seeking pleasure. She moaned.

  “Do you like this, little whore? Are you going to come?”

  Her fingers moved faster. The feeling grew. She bobbed her head up and down, barely even aware, unable to pry her attention from the mounting heat inside her. Wet, slurping, sucking sounds filled the air, but they seemed distant, unreal. With every thrust, the metal probe did something wonderful inside her. She drove it harder and harder, making an inarticulate sound around his cock on each stroke. “Ngh! Ngh! Ngh!”

  He peaked just scant instants before she did. His cock thickened, and an explosion of hot, creamy wetness erupted in her mouth. Her eyes widened with shock and disgust, and then her own orgasm seized her. Her scream became a gurgle as semen spurted against the back of her throat. She swallowed reflexively, horrified and helpless in the orgasm’s grip.

  “That’s good. That’s good. Keep swallowing.” He pushed her head down. She struggled and choked. Her throat worked spasmodically. Warm goo slid down her throat.

  He released her head. She straightened, and her hands flew to her breasts, covering herself from his gaze. The probe slipped from her ass and fell to the floor with a solid clunk. She jumped, startled.

  “That was very good!” he said. “I am very pleased. You are easy! Your training is going much, much better than I expected. The first week isn’t even half finished, and you’re already masturbating yourself anally to orgasm while you suck cock.”

  She looked away from him, trembling and gasping.

  “I think I’m going to change your training program a bit. The original program called for two weeks of what we’ve been doing so far, but you’ve progressed so well that I think we can step it up.” He caressed her cheek softly, ran his fingers through her hair. “You really like being a sex slave. I think you’ll do just fine.” He stood and pulled down the covers. “Now, let’s just get you chained up and go to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a wonderful day!”

  Chapter 8

  The aftershocks from the orgasm still rippled through Eileen’s body as she sat quietly on the edge of the bed. She made no move and offered no resistance as her husband locked the wide, padded, polished metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles. She could still taste the bitter dregs of his semen in her mouth, and her ass throbbed from the smooth metal probe she had so recently pushed up inside herself. It had been bad enough when he had tied her down helpless and violated her; but this time, she had done it herself. She had thrust the thick, veined rubber dildo into herself while the bellhop watched; her hands had driven the probe into her ass while her husband used her mouth. And both times, even while shame and disgust poured through her, she had climbed to heights of ecstatic pleasure she scarcely even knew were possible.

  All her life, her mother had warned her against this. From the earliest days she could remember, he
r mother had told her about women who became too attached to sex. Eileen could vividly recall one day, many years ago, when her mother had gathered her up on the rocking chair she used to sit in near the big bay window and explained the rules of sex to her. “Now, child,” she had said, as she smoothed her powder blue dress to make room on her lap, “there are some things you must know so that you grow up to be a proper lady.”

  Eileen had climbed into her lap to listen, wide-eyed. “The world is filled with corrupt and evil men, and the only thing they want is to do is to use you for disgusting things. You must hold on to your virtue, and hold on tight. Otherwise they will ruin and spoil you.”

  She clutched her mother’s dress, confused and frightened. “How will they do that, Mommy?”

  “They will want to touch you, the same way that a mommy and a daddy do to make babies. They will tell you that it will feel good. But you mustn’t let them! Girls who like the way it feels will turn into dirty tramps. You mustn’t let that happen to you. Only when you are married should you do these things, and only to have babies. Remember that!”

  Anthony’s voice jerked her back to the present. “Lie down.” He put his hand between her breasts and pressed her back on the bed. She whimpered and lay still. He bustled around the bed, and in moments the cuffs she wore were locked to the chains attached to the corners of the bed. As he had done the night before, he left the chains slack enough for her to change position and roll over, but short enough that she could not leave the bed or touch herself.

  When he’d finished, he sat on the bed and smiled down at her. “When we first met, you thought the idea of oral sex was disgusting, remember? You said you’d never done anything except in the missionary position. With the lights off.” He chuckled. “We’re only two days into our honeymoon, and here you are screwing in dark alleyways, fucking yourself in the ass, and jilling off in front of the hotel staff.” He brushed her hair away from her face and caressed her cheek. “And for someone who doesn’t like giving head, you suck cock like a pro.”