The Training of Kristine, Day One

Kristine stands in the middle of a stark concrete room wearing nothing but a thin steel collar around her neck. She’s twenty-three, 5'7", 110 pounds of lean muscle and tight curves, 32A-24-35, the breasts real and the nipples already pulled tight from the chill. The session has barely started and she’s already dripping, thighs glossy under the harsh overhead light. Her trainer doesn’t waste time. He calls her over, tells her to kneel, then to present her ass. She drops, chest down, hands spreading her cheeks wide. The plug they use is thick, black, and merciless, stretching her asshole in one long, slick push until the widest part pops inside and the base seats flush against her hole. Her mouth falls open, a strangled sound escaping, but she stays exactly where she’s put. He beats her with a heavy flogger next. Each thud lands square on her ass and the backs of her thighs, the weight driving her forward on her knees. Every impact sends a deep, aching jolt straight into her cunt. She rocks with the strokes instead of flinching, pain turning fast and hot between her legs. Sweat beads on her spine. Her shoulders start to tremble. Electricity follows. Electrodes clipped to the slick lips of her pussy, voltage clicking on in sudden short pulses that lock her muscles and rip a cry from her throat. He counts the seconds aloud. She holds still through each one, breath caught, pussy clenching around nothing, until he finally clicks the power off and she sags forward, gasping. The cane is last. He lines the length of rattan across the center of both cheeks and gives her six hard strokes, one after another, no warm-up. The welts rise red and angry, the pain so sharp she has to bite her forearm to keep quiet. When he stops she’s shaking hard, face pressed to the floor, but her cunt is visibly pulsing around the base of the plug. He pulls his cock out, thick and already leaking, and presses the head against her stretched asshole. She takes it in one slow thrust, hole forced wider than the plug, stretching until she’s full to the brim. He fucks her without mercy—deep, pounding strokes that shove the steel collar against her collarbones and knock hoarse little grunts out of her chest. Her pussy drips onto the concrete beneath her; she’s clearly in the zone where pain slides straight into need. Every few minutes he praises her—tells her she’s a good, obedient hole, that she’s taking him exactly the way she’s meant to. The words land harder than the cane. Her eyes roll back and her whole body jerks, orgasm tearing through her without a sound, cunt and ass clamping down at once. He doesn’t stop fucking her. He just laughs low, says she’ll come again before the scene ends, and drives in deeper, using every inch of her like he’s got all day.