Evocation (The Training of Eileen)

by William Vitelli

  She heard the large printer whir. Papers rustled. Eileen heard Anthony rise from his chair. She heard the door to the office open, then close. After that, nothing.

  “Annnhnnnuh?” she said, the word distorted by the gag. “Annnhunnny?”

  She heard no reply. Panic took hold. Oh, my God, he’s left me here alone! she thought. Her pulse pounded in her ears. How long is he going to leave me here?

  Eileen started to struggle again, thrashing until the chair rocked back and forth and the ropes bit deep. “Unnngh! Unnngh!” she cried.

  The dildo, still oscillating madly, slipped partway out of her clenching sex. As she jerked and twisted against her bonds, it pressed against a sensitive place within her. A jolt of arousal, shockingly intense, ran through her. She fought against a dizzying wave of pleasure, but it could not be held back. The orgasm roared within her. Her nipples hardened. Her body shook with the force of it. Only the gag kept her from screaming.

  Eileen felt herself twitching from the aftershocks for a long time. She sat limply, moaning and shaking, spent. The dildo buzzed on, but she lacked even the strength to squirm.

  Anthony cleared his throat. Her blood froze.

  “I thought I was quite specific,” he said. “You were not to have an orgasm. This is twice in two days you have disobeyed me when I told you that you were not permitted to come.” His voice was calm, reasoned. “It is clear to me that I did not punish you nearly severely enough yesterday. I have been far too lenient with you.” She felt his fingers unbuckle the gag. The blindfold slipped off after it. She blinked up at him. He looked down at her with a small smirk. “I would be remiss if I continued to be so lenient, don’t you agree?”

  Eileen shuddered but said nothing. Anthony gripped her jaw painfully and forced her gaze up to meet his. “Have you been disobedient?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly.

  “Should you be punished?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I…I should be punished.” Butterflies swirled in her stomach.

  He nodded, satisfied. “Good.” With a quick twist, he shut off the vibrator and pulled it from her. She gasped in relief. He set to work on the knots that bound her. When she was free, she touched the marks left behind by the rope in her wrists and ankles.

  “Go get your key.”

  She stood on aching legs. He watched her pause to massage the circulation back into her calves and feet. Slowly, her steps heavy and reluctant, she walked naked from the office toward the downstairs bedroom.

  It took a long time for Eileen to make her slow, nervous way back, the key clutched tightly in her hand. Her heart pounded with fear. He stood waiting for her by the door, his expression inscrutable. She unlocked it with shaking hands. He followed her up the flight of stairs.

  Once they had arrived at the top, Anthony pointed to the wall. “Go stand in the corner. Touch your nose to the wall. Stay there until I call for you. I have to prepare your punishment.”

  Feeling very small and chastised, Eileen did as he had said. She stood quietly in the corner, her nose pressed to the dry plaster wall. Behind her, Anthony rummaged around in drawers. She heard him dragging something heavy across the dusty wooden floor. She felt incredibly vulnerable, standing naked in the corner, ignored. Something damp trickled down her inner thigh.

  “Come over here.” Anthony’s voice was stern.

  She left the corner and walked slowly to where Anthony was standing. He had unfolded a small bench next to him, on which he had laid out an assortment of objects on a black cloth. She glanced down, but his voice stopped her. “Don’t worry about that. Get on your hands and knees.”

  “Anthony, no! Please, I don’t want to!”

  Anthony pointed to the place where she had written on the wall. “What does that say?”

  Eileen gulped. “I am a filthy slut who deserves to be used for sex.” Her voice quavered. A shiver of sexual arousal ran through her.

  “Is it true?”

  She looked down. “Yes.”

  “I will not tell you again. Get down on your hands and knees.”

  Silently, she obeyed.

  He walked over to the center of the room. Eileen saw that he had dragged a long, low iron cage, thick flat bars made of heavy rust-streaked metal, into the middle of the floor. On one end, a small square door was open and waiting. He swung open the large door on the other end. “Crawl over here. In you go!”

  The shiver grew stronger. Her face burned.

  It was barely large enough to hold her. When she had crawled inside, her back brushed against the bars at the top. Anthony urged her all the way in, directing her to put her head through the small opening at the far end. Even then, it was only just long enough; she felt bunched up, with her shoulders pressed against one end and her legs curled underneath her at the other.

  Anthony picked up a length of cord. With one hand, he gathered her hair into a loose ponytail, which he bound with the cord. He tied the other end tightly to the top of the cage, forcing her head up. Eileen realized that with her head bound this way, she was staring directly at the words she’d written on the wall. Humiliation and helplessness raged like a storm inside her.

  He disappeared behind her. She felt him spread her knees apart, until they touched the sides of the cage. Something small bit down tightly on her labia. “Ouch!” she exclaimed.

  “Hold still,” he said. “I’m opening this disobedient cunt of yours up so I can punish it properly.”

  Another pinch. Carefully and meticulously, Anthony placed a row of small metal clips along each of her labial lips. When they both were lined with the clips, he tied a thin piece of twine to a small loop on each clamp. The other end of the twine he tied to the bars on the side of the cage, opening her labia.

  He repeated the same process on her inner lips. She moaned as each clamp closed tightly on sensitive skin. More twine ran from each of these clips to the bars of the cage, painfully stretching the entrance to her pussy wide open.

  He lifted her clitoral hood and placed a clamp directly onto her clit, causing her to cry out. Another string went from that clamp to the bottom of the cage. When he pulled it tight, it stretched her clit, tugging it downward. She moaned steadily, writhing in spite of the pain that surged through her with every tiny motion of her hips.

  Only then did he close the cage door. The latch clicked into place. He locked it shut with a large, heavy padlock, and stepped back to survey his handiwork.

  Eileen knelt in the cage whimpering. The clips that gripped her labia so painfully also held her stretched uncomfortably wide. The clamp on her clit was a throbbing pain that surged and ebbed with each breath.

  The helplessness and humiliation worked their predictable alchemy. The walls of her vagina quivered. She felt herself growing more and more wet, until the juices spilled from her gaping sex and dripped onto the floor. Her nipples hardened.

  Anthony waited until her whimpers changed. When he could hear the need in her moans, he walked around in front of her, carrying a short three-legged stool. “I am going to punish you now,” he said. “Are you ready?”

  “No! Anthony, please don’t!”

  He smiled. “That will do.” He walked around behind her. Eileen’s heart thudded. Beads of sweat appeared on her body. She heard him set down the stool, its seat barely a few inches from the floor. A small tremor of fear ran through her body.

  She felt a touch, very light, on the entrance to her gaping pussy. “This is interesting,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you quite this wet before.”

  He began slowly, his touch gentle at first. He slid two fingers into her gaping sex and stroked the inner wall of her vagina lightly. The sensation sent such shivers through her that she moaned in spite of herself. He worked his fingers deeper, bit by bit, stroking her, coaxing more moans from her. She felt herself growing more aroused.

  He slid his other hand flat over her mound and pressed inward with his palm. She could f
eel his fingers working inside her, and the pressure through the walls of her pussy felt so good it made her dizzy. Eileen contracted strongly. The pitiless metal clamps jerked tight, holding her wide. “Annnhgh!” she cried. Pleasure and pain coursed through her.

  He pressed harder. His fingers moved deeper, three of them now. Another contraction pulled the clips tight again. She shuddered and cried out. “Anthony! You’re hurting me!”

  Anthony twisted his fingers inside her, pressing hard against the sensitive place just within her entrance. “Hold still, little whore! If you keep trying to squirm around like that, it will only hurt more.” He pressed his fingers deeper, probing roughly. She felt herself contract hard around the invasion. The strings pulled on her labia and clit, forcing another cry from her.

  “Anthony! Please stop!”

  “Are you sensitive?”

  “Yes!” she wailed.

  Anthony pulled his fingers from her. She gasped in relief. He picked up a long, smooth, highly polished wooden staff, about a yard long and very thick, and showed t to her. Its end had been rounded and sculpted into a flared head, like the end of a cock. Her eyes widened. “No!”

  He walked around behind her. “Now let’s see here,” he said. “It seems that this disobedient cunt of yours is most sensitive right here, so I think maybe if I do this…” He shoved it into her, pressing the hard smooth end of it against that maddeningly sensitive place. Eileen gasped, unable to tell if it hurt or felt good. The gasp became a scream as he pressed harder. “Ooongh!” Eileen cried. Her nipples throbbed painfully. “Anthony, stop!”

  He began thrusting it hard, burying it inside her as deep as it could go. Waves of both pleasure and pain, so intense she could barely tell which was which, pulsed through her. She alternated between moans and desperate screams as he tortured and tormented her pussy.

  He kept it up for a long time, standing behind her, ramming the long smooth shaft into her stretched-open sex again and again. She moaned and screamed and sobbed, unable to tell the difference between pleasure and pain. “Please!” she cried. “It’s too deep! Please stop!”

  Anthony ignored her cries. He prodded her more deeply still, until she shook and wept openly. She begged for him to stop, even as the feelings shifted and warped into deep, paralyzing pleasure. The inside of her gaping pussy twitched. Anthony grinned. He reached out and hooked the string tied to the clamp on her clit with his fingers.

  “This is going to hurt a great deal,” he said. “It’s time. Come, little whore! Come for me! Do it now! Do it!”

  Eileen, powerless and vulnerable, could not have stopped herself if she had tried. The orgasm built with relentless power, and when it arrived, it roared over her with the fury of a tornado. She shook and cried.

  Anthony’s fingers tightened on the string, and without warning, he jerked the clamp off her clit.

  Instantly, Eileen’s orgasmic cry became a howl. She shook in the grip of the most intense, agonizing, fiery, excruciating pleasure she had ever known. Her body thrashed so hard the cage shifted on the dusty wood floor. “Aaaannngh!”

  Anthony pressed his finger against her engorged, abused clit. White-hot fire shot through her. She screamed and shook. “Hnnnngh!”

  He kept it there, moving his fingertip back and forth with small, rapid motions, until she was spent. Her thrashing slowly subsided until she leaned limply against the far end of the cage, sobbing. He withdrew the end of the rod and carefully unclipped all the small clamps holding her open. She uttered a tiny moan with each one.

  After he was finished, he unlocked the cage door and swung it open. Eileen slowly crawled out backwards into his arms, making soft whimpering sounds.

  “Have you been punished enough, little whore?”

  She nodded. He kissed her cheek softly and held her in his arms until her quivering body finally relaxed. When she could move again, he helped her down the stairs, holding her close to his side.

  He brought her into the bedroom. She sat on the bed, yielding and compliant, eyes down, still feeling small aftershocks ripple through her. She opened her legs submissively, waiting, when he picked up her training device.

  Anthony knelt. Eileen let out a single “Oh!” as he pushed it into her, then remained still as he locked the belt in place. When it started to run, she gasped and shuddered, feeling utterly, entirely possessed by him.

  Chapter 18

  The days passed. A rhythm developed. Each day began with Eileen offering her ass for Anthony’s use, impaling herself on his erection and working her hips until he filled her with his come. She bathed him, working him up in the shower and then pleasuring him again. Every evening ended with her using her body to tease, seduce, and arouse him, and herself, before offering her mouth to him. The end of each day left her hungry, wanting more, so that at the beginning of the next she was eager to give herself to him, craving the orgiastic release that having his cock in her ass would bring.

  During the time between, she had the training device locked inside her, keeping her in a perpetual state of sexual need. As the weeks went by, she learned to go to the store or wash the dishes, cool and collected on the outside, even when she was a roiling sea of frantic sexual desire inwardly, always just a hair’s breadth away from collapsing into orgasm. Only her permanently erect nipples, which felt harder and more sensitive with every passing day, betrayed her constant arousal.

  She found, too, that her body grew accustomed to constant penetration. At night, when Anthony removed the training device and chained her to the bead for sleep, she felt achingly empty; the walls of her pussy would pulse again and again, missing the feel of the hard vibrator within her.

  Before long, the mechanics of sucking his cock became so ingrained by constant practice that she could pleasure him regardless of what she was feeling, or what he was doing to her. Her trips up to the attic to be bound on hands and knees in front of the mannequin, forced to endure the humiliation of sucking on the dildo while Anthony spanked, prodded, used, and tormented her, took hold. Time and repetition honed her skills until she could pleasure him with her mouth automatically, never missing a beat even if she was in the throes of ecstasy herself. Those visits to the attic became less and less frequent.

  At least for that reason. Anthony made good on his threat of remedial training whenever her orgasm distracted her from servicing him with her ass. On those mornings where her own orgasm caused her focus to slip, he would press a large plug firmly into her ass before he locked the training device in place—a reminder, he said, of the punishment she was due.

  At the end of his workday, he would bring her up to the attic. Once there, he would lead her over to the far corner, where a wooden post ran from floor to ceiling. He would select a thick dildo and attach it to the post so that it stuck out obscenely. He would order to her hands and knees and force her to impale herself on it, making her take herself anally—sometimes for an hour or more—while he spanked her, clamped her nipples, or shoved his erection down her throat.

  On some days, when the mood struck him, Anthony would come home from work on his lunch break. Eileen quickly learned that wearing the training device did not at all impede his use of her; he would come up behind her, bending her forcibly over the kitchen counter to slide his cock into her ass. When he was finished, he would leave her gasping, his come dripping from her, while he made himself a sandwich.

  On other days, he would walk in unexpectedly to grab her by the hair and force her to her knees. He would make quick, rough use of her mouth; or, if he was more in the mood to be leisurely, he would bind her beneath the table and force her to suck him slowly while he enjoyed his lunch.

  Eileen grew to savor those days; she would lie on the bed after he left, his come still lingering in her, stroking her body languidly, feeling that warm glow. She became alert to the sound of his car in the driveway; when lunchtime approached, she would catch herself straining her ears for it, wondering if he would be there to take her before he headed back to the office
.

  In the evenings, when he came home, he would often remove her training device in order to use her quivering pussy—sometimes roughly against the wall, other times bound to the couch with her legs held wide, or from behind bent over the coffee table. When he was finished, he would push the vibrator back into her still-dripping sex and lock it into place again.

  One day in particular stayed with her especially vividly. That morning, when Eileen gave her ass to him, she had come with fiery intensity, long before he did. The orgasm was so strong that she stopped moving entirely, her vision swimming. After she had finished bathing him, he shoved the plug into her ass and told her to expect a trip to the attic that night.

  He came home for lunch that afternoon. Her ass was still filled, the plug held firmly inside her by the same metal belt that locked the vibrator in her pussy. Anthony made himself lunch, then ordered her to her knees on the kitchen floor while he ate. She serviced him with the only orifice that was still available, slowly and deeply, feeling the vibrator revving faster and faster inside her while she sucked.

  When she came, she clamped down hard around the intrusive butt plug. Pain lashed at her, so sudden and so sharp that she screamed, releasing her mouth from around his cock just as he was about to reach orgasm. She realized her mistake instantly, and took him into her mouth again, but not before he gave her a long, lingering look that sent shivers down her spine.

  That evening, when he brought her up to the attic, he moved the mannequin over to the corner where the post stood. She knelt submissively at his command. He directed her to push backward onto the dildo attached to the post; when her ass was filled with it, he positioned the mannequin in front of her and ordered her to suck.

  He forced her to drive herself back and forth, working the dildos in ass and mouth, while he held the Magic Wand firmly against her clit. She shook and spasmed and wept, tears flowing down her cheeks, struggling to ignore the agonizing orgasms shuddering painfully through her and focus her attention only on the dildos.