Training Centre
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2016 by Tedbiker

Sex Story: Chapter 7 - A longer tale in the Post-Apocalyptic Britain of 'Auction' and 'The Heir'. The Chairman of the Midlands Committee, and his colleagues wish to modify the behaviour of their womenfolk and social circle. Some codes relate to later chapters. Please check them before beginning to read!

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Reluctant   Coercion   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Post Apocalypse   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Lactation  

Sunday; the third active Sunday.

The usual routine. Of course, only four of the women had experienced Sunday morning at the Centre before, but the other two just followed on anyway. The male trainers had discovered the Coolidge Effect* and were able to service all six women during the post-breakfast session. Jesmina was still unable to orgasm during coitus with the men, but derived some satisfaction from the Sybian. Unfortunately for her, neither of the female trainers were on duty that morning.

But after that, the women were released to enjoy a free hour before lunch. Four women were engrossed in their laptop computers. One, with pencil and cartridge paper was sketching. The sixth? The strains of a simple arrangement of 'Greensleeves' drifted across the parade area, followed by a faltering, but recognisable rendition of 'Für Elise'; Helena then went over and over the places she'd faltered before working through a series of exercises.

"That's Joshua Sutherland." The Chaplain was looking over Belle's shoulder perhaps ten minutes after she started drawing. She glanced back.

"Yes. He was the first to notice, well, something I needed but didn't realise I needed," she said looking back at her sketch.

"It's an excellent likeness. The expression ... he's ... stern, but compassionate. Something else. Loving?"

She turned again and there were tear tracks gleaming on her cheeks. "Yes. If only I'd known how we looked to him; he could have been my son-in-law." She lay the pad down and turned properly to face him. "Can I ask a question?"

"Certainly. I'm here for you, after all."

"Doesn't it bother you, seeing us like this?" she waved her hands generally over her body.

"That's hard to answer. I suppose it's 'yes and no'. Yes, it bothers me. You are a very attractive woman, becoming more so both physically and personality wise, and my profession frowns on ... um ... promiscuous relationships, so yes, I can't just throw you on the bed to have sex with you."

"But you want to?"

"Yes ... sort of. But on the other hand, nudity as nudity doesn't bother me at all. What bothers me more is slavery. The Bible doesn't exactly condemn slavery – it was a fact of life back when the New Testament was being written – but it does require slaves to be treated as human beings. In our society slaves, even Indentured Servants like yourself, are often treated as objects, and treated very badly at that. So, as a male human, I would like to bend you over that bed, but as a Christian leader I would hate myself if I did."

"I really wouldn't mind."

He smiled. "Maybe not. My wife would, though. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"I think I would like to confess, then I'd like Communion."

"That can be arranged."

Meanwhile, Karen was frowning as she worked through a basic refresher course in applied mathematics, while Griselda was trying to compose a Haiku, which was harder than she would have thought.****

Millicent was just reading; she'd found a source of amateur prose on the net and was escaping her thoughts in romantic fiction. Jesmina was researching her legal situation, which was disturbing. Some of what the Major had said on their admission was beginning to sink in and, though she wasn't prepared to admit it out loud, she was realising things could be worse – a lot worse.

After lunch, both Millicent and Jesmina were visited by their husbands. Millicent immediately went to her knees, with downcast eyes.

"Well, Millie..."

"Yes, sir."

He stepped closer to stroke her hair, whereupon she unzipped him, fished out his cock, which was limp, and began to suck. When, quite soon, he came in her mouth, she swallowed and just continued to hold it there until he began to harden again, then stood to bend over the bed, presenting her moist pussy to him. As has been said, just one week of planned activity had had an effect. If she was still overweight, the weight was well distributed and she was significantly firmer. Nothing was said as he thrust into her. It was a mutual surprise when she orgasmed just before he did.

His shock was compounded when she slipped back to her knees to clean him up. He permitted her to perform that service, and enjoyed it, as who wouldn't?

"Sit on the bed, Millie." When she obeyed him, he went on, "I thought you'd be trying to get me to take you out of here."

"When you're ready, sir," she said quietly. "I'm learning things. Have you got someone at home? To, um, take care of you?"

He didn't answer right away, looking into her eyes. "Did they hurt you?"

"Only enough to get my attention. You haven't answered me."

"Then, yes, I have. There are the household servants, of course, but I'm hiring one of Madame Anastasiya's girls. Temporarily, of course."

"That's good. Good. You don't have to get rid of her, if you want, when ... if ... I come home. What's she like?"

"Pretty, quiet, dark hair. Very skilled. Slight accent – Eastern European."

"Good. Why don't you think about buying her Indenture?"

"You don't mind?"

"The way I treated you ... I have no right to mind. But I've decided I want – need – you to be happy. It doesn't have to be that girl; what's her name, by the way?"

"Jana." They were both quiet for a moment, then, "She was Joshua's favourite, I gather, before he married Ksenia."

"Well, if she suits you..." she stopped without finishing. "Thank you for coming, sir. I hope I pleased you."

"You did. Greatly. I could wish..."

"It's okay, sir, really. I'm in the right place. I'm learning, I'm learning to be human, I suppose."

Next door, the sequence was much the same, but not the conclusion. Jesmina having satisfied her husband twice, and sitting on the bed, took a different slant on what should happen.

"Do you want me to take you out of here?"

Jesmina actually took time to think about that. "I'm not sure I could come home to you, sir."

"Why is that? You seem to have changed. Changed dramatically, I'd say."

"Yes, I have, sir. That's the problem. I see the other women, I see how they respond to the training, and I've realised something."

"And that is?"

"I can't respond to men. Sexually, I mean. I only cum with women, or on the Sybian, or with a vibrator. You should divorce me and marry someone who can be happy with you."

"I see." There was a long pause, during which neither looked at the other. "Supposing," Henry Knott struggled for the right words, "supposing you lived with me, but I found satisfaction elsewhere?"

"Do you want to do something like that? I would hate that your mistress didn't have the, I don't know ... status? What I'm going through here, I wouldn't feel good about you buying a woman just for sex."

"There's a new regulation, you know. Men are permitted multiple wives."

She actually giggled, "In which case, she – or they – would need to be bi, you know."

He didn't laugh, and was nodding seriously. "Let me think about that." As he walked out, Jesmina followed him with her eyes, open mouthed. He stopped just outside the cell and turned. "It would be good to be friends, don't you think?" Then left without waiting for an answer.

That evening, two more trainees arrived, almost a comedy combination; Mirosa Beeton, IS29/07, wife of Alan, wearing a red collar. Short at five foot two and seriously overweight – almost as wide as she was tall. Dark, lustreless hair and a pasty complexion, and Bennie Hemming, IS29/08 ... sporting a black collar.

Bennie Hemming had not quite finished her phased withdrawal from drugs; very thin and well below a healthy weight for her five foot five. Dark red hair framed her cadaverous face, dark eyes deeply sunk in shadowed sockets.

The RSM welcomed them with his usual spiel. Bennie stripped off her dress without any apparent reluctance, but her companion...

"Sir?" Belle Sturgeon spoke up.

"Yes, Zero Three?"

"May I speak to my friend privately for a few minutes?"

The RSM and Belle looked at each other for several seconds, Reg considering, then he nodded. "Five minutes, Zero Three,"

"Thank you, sir." Belle led the darkly blushing woman to her cell.

In Cell Three, Belle pushed Mirosa at her chair, then perched on her bed. "Missy." The other woman looked at her. "Missy, there's no point in fighting this. I know you hate yourself. I know you're embarrassed by your body. But if you work, if you do as you're told, you could be a different person. They won't humiliate you for the sake of it, but if you fight, it will hurt. You hear me?"

"Belle..."

"Do you hear me?"

"Well, okay..."

 
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