The Training

The Evaluation-1

The Evaluation

Marcus

I wanted to go up, catch them both in bed, maybe even lay between them if things broke right. Just about every man’s fantasy, right? Louise had half-heartedly invited me to watch the goings on through a peephole in a closet, complete with a tall, plastic bottle for me to pee in, but I turned her down. We couldn’t risk anything to spoil the little virgin. Heather might eventually become an exhibitionist, but if she discovered me there we would probably never see her again. And I definitely wanted to, especially after how easily she was ensnared in Louise’s web of seduction at the Howling Wolf.

They cut quite a swath, those two, almost made me feel like an intruder as I followed them in my car at a discreet distance back to Louise’s loft. I stayed in the car, gazed upwards until the lights went out, then spent the rest of the night at my place. To pass the time I called up Amanda, a randy milf that was always ripe for plucking and whipped her around the world. In my dungeon her screams were a suitable substitute for the ones I was sure Louise had wrenched from young Heather. I f****d Amanda, allowed her to masturbate to orgasm, f****d her again, then we fell asleep, her hands tied behind her. As I drifted away I could feel her heart pounding through her chest, the tension in her body as she realized I was going to leave her like that all night. She stayed awake, while I dreamed of Heather.

I was awake before dawn and Amanda had her own domestic life to return to as well, so I gave her a farewell slap on the ass. Once she was gone I jetted over to Louise’s loft just in time to witness Heather emerge from the lobby and slide into a cab with a last kiss from Louise.

I almost followed Heather, I wanted to know where she lived, just in case Louise had frightened her off and I could set up a meet of my own, but right now I needed information, so I gave a familiar nod at the concierge and rode the freight elevator to Louise’s floor. I found her at the breakfast table, unmoving, alone, a forgotten mug of still steaming coffee surrounded by loose hands. A faraway look in her eyes reminded me of the first night we spent together.

I stood just inside the door, then slowly approached. “Was she that good?”

Louise didn’t acknowledge my presence. She took another sip and continued with the thousand yard stare. I almost repeated myself but she beat me to it.

“Better than good. That girl has got it.”

I had expected a good report, but nothing like this. Louise’s repressed excitement matched my growing own. I moved into the kitchen area, poured my own day starter. “I suppose it’s too much to ask for details?”

Louise shifted her eyes toward me. “You know, even though I gave you the chance to watch, I never took you for a voyeur.”

I creamed and sugared my coffee, not allowing Louise’s little dig to get to me. “The word implies someone who stands back and passively watches. In case you hadn’t noticed I wasn’t here last night and -”

“– and when was the last time you were passive about anything? I get it. Only this was her first time and one shouldn’t shout about taking someone else’s virginity.”

“Not even their SM or lesbian flower? I agree, but there is still the suitability question.”

“Oh, she’ll do. Take my word for that.”

I sipped at my coffee, sat down at the table next to her. “Normally, I do. But one night of submission does not a slave make.”

“If you don’t believe me then come back next Saturday. I’m having a vanilla party and she’s invited. If she shows up, then maybe you’ll know.”

I said, “I’ll know after I take her back to my place.”

Louise didn’t look too pleased with that.

***

The week interminably passed. Amanda called me, a sudden opening in her domestic schedule, and I did her good, but it was all I could do to concentrate on her. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she was a good looking woman; chiseled hips, full breasts and long, yellow blonde hair with a face that absolutely didn’t need any makeup. Her wimp of a husband really didn’t know just what he had, but my thoughts kept drifting to Saturday and how I might tempt little Heather back to my place for a real going over. One night I even sat down and wrote out short scenarios as to what I might say and Heather’s responses. Of course, I was doing what every novice player in the scene did; scripting a rigid fantasy that would no way come true. I hit the delete key on the laptop then turned my attention back to Amanda and her gagged mewling for attention. I screwed her, her legs splayed high in the air, gag still in her mouth, upper body still heavily roped, and when I came I only thought about Heather.

Afterwards, as Amanda hung suspended and tears streamed down her face, I removed the gag, a solid dildo that shone in her saliva. Amanda’s grimace from the pain in her wrists as she hung by her own weight only made me think of Heather even more and how she would look in Amanda’s place. But Amanda wasn’t a beginner like Heather. Even though Amanda was more than a little scared with me the first time in my dungeon she didn’t disappoint. She was experienced, but still uptight and needed to broaden her horizons. I suddenly had an idea how I might use her beyond the dungeon.

I grabbed her chin. “How would you like to go to a party Saturday night?”

Amanda’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, a play party? I...I’ve haven’t been to one in so long.”

“Not a play party,” I said. “But it might turn into one. Later.”

Amanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Not a play... I don’t understand.”

“It’s not for you to understand.”

Amanda frowned slightly, suddenly distracted by some internal thought. “No, wait... I can’t. Really, I can’t! My husband will be back in town.”

With my other hand I twisted a n****e and Amanda cried out. “So tell him you’ve got a charity gig, or you’re visiting a sick friend. I don’t care. You’re going.”

Amanda’s breathing hitched a couple of times. New tears welled up in her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

***

At last, Saturday arrived. Amanda shook in nervousness as we rode the freight elevator to Louise’s floor but, good slave that she was, didn’t say anything. When we met at the restaurant for an early, light dinner, I wanted to prepare her for what was in store later, so I slapped a leather collar around her neck, not caring about anyone’s reactions at this little public play. Amanda gasped. Her hands flew up to the collar and tried to pull it away while I fastened it. I had to threaten tying her hands in back and having me spoon feed her before she stopped.

“You’re my slave,” I said. “When we go out I want everyone to know that.”

Amanda bowed her head, her long hair hiding her face and its shade of red.

“Now, none of that,” I said, tilting her head back and brushing the hair to the sides. “Be proud. Stand tall.” She obeyed of course, and during the meal ate very little, but eventually lost a lot of her anxiety. She even answered without hesitation when the waitress asked about the “choker” around her neck. “It’s a gift from my master,” Amanda said. Like I said, a good slave. The waitress eyed me and left the bill without further comment. But now, in the elevator, some of that anxiety returned, and I gently, but firmly gripped her arm and propelled her into Louise’s loft.

The usual crowd was there; edgy, arty types, some straight forward vanillas, even a semi well-known actress, but mainly people who liked to let it be known they run with danger, but not too close. Louise was in the center of it all, of course; hostess, raconteur, and all around queen of the night. She didn’t need to work the room, it was her party, after all, but then she never did need to work any room. People just came to her and she granted them an audience, just like at any royal court. But one person didn’t hover around Louise. Rather, Louise kind of circled around her. Oh, nothing obvious to the casual observer, but I knew right away. I knew Heather was under Louise’s protective wing by the way she always seemed to kind of wind up in the same talking groups as Heather. Louise allowed Heather to interact with others, but not for too long with any one person or group. Subtly territorial.

“Remember what I told you,” I said to Amanda, reminding her of my plan and her general orders for the night.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

Amanda began to mix with the partiers. A space had been cleared on the floor for dancing and a few people were already getting their freak on. It wasn’t too long before some spiky haired guy dragged Amanda out there, and I made sure Amanda not only got her own freak on, but didn’t freak out either. I knew everything was all right when, during all the jerky dance moves, the guy pointed to her neck. Amanda threw back her head and laughed. I wasn’t a lip reader but I could tell what she said: It’s a slave collar.

Good. That part of the evening was working out. She would be ready if or when I needed her. Soon after that, I spotted little Heather. She stood near the dance area, but toward the rear of the encircling watchers, her back almost pressing against the floor to ceiling windows. She stared continuously at Amanda. This was going to be easier than I thought.

I made my move. And promptly got cut off by Louise.

“What the hell are you thinking?” she said, grabbing my arm and stepping in front of me. “This is not a play party.”

“Oh? Take a look around,” I said. “You’ve got play equipment spread all around here.”

“Which all can be easily explained away for another use.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, “to those who are stupid enough to believe you. Admit it. Anyone who’s a half-wit can tell what you’re into, so what’s a little collar, sorry, I mean, ‘choker’?”

I swear I could almost see smoke spew out of Louise’s ears, she was that mad. She was readying a savage retort, but this time I cut her off and steered her to the relatively empty kitchen area. “Look, you know what I need to do here. Did you really expect anything less?”

Louise held my gaze for a second, then her eyes fell. “No.”

“Then just let it happen. Tonight we’ll know for sure if Heather is the genuine article or just a dilettante.”

Louise nodded, reluctant, but enough for me to know that she would keep up her end of our little job. We made our way back to the main area and neither of us could spot Heather. More people had joined in the dancing, but she wasn’t in that crowd. Other people traipsed up and down the stairs, some tittering at what they found of Louise’s equipment up there, others impressed, but no sign of our prey.

“Now where did she get to?” I said. “Maybe I’ll have to send Amanda around sniffing for her.”

Louise “humph”ed, but then nodded over to a far corner, near the bottom of the stairs, occupied by a tall, leafy potted plant. Partially obscured by a couple of drooping branches, Heather’s red hair peeked out, along with another, darker set and a face that was slightly familiar.

“Looks like you got a little competition tonight,” Louise said, sounding kind of smug.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I said and left Louise behind. I worked my way through the party, saying hello to a few casual acquaintances, but always heading toward Amanda, who now had taken a break from her dancing but was still with her dance partner. She was laughing and engaged and surrounded by a few others, all of whom were interested in her neck jewelry. In the middle of another laugh she noticed me and instantly knew that I required her presence. She excused herself to refresh her drink, not abrupt or obvious to break the light party mood, but gracious and polite. There were no small amount of volunteers offering to get another drink for her, but she demurred, and made a bee line straight for me.