The Training of B — A Brief Followup

“So,” I asked, “Does that idea please you?”

She chuckled. “Mm-hmm.”

“Does it please you right in your private places?” I said.

“Yep.” She sighed. “There’s something about the idea of training you…of instruction. It hits my buttons.”

“I can’t wait. Just to be programmed…” I started feeling butterflies in my stomach. “To not be allowed to walk without permission, to have to crawl; and to have to eat out of a dog bowl, to have no name while you’re training me until you give me one…”

“I know, it’s so hot. Except…” She said slowly.

“What?”

“Except I worry about not doing it right.” She sighed, honestly.

“Honey, how long have we been doing this?” I started counting on my fingers.

“A while,” she said.

“We’ve been doing this for nine months.” I said. “Nine months, and have you done anything wrong?”

“You tell me,” she ordered.

“No. Maybe us attempting to switch was a bad move, but as dominant, you have been naturally pitch-perfect with everything.” I sighed. “I have no idea why you’d be worried about doing it ‘right.’ You do it right. Perfectly. You have a way…you just know how to be dominant and sadistic.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know what I worry about…I mean, who’s going to tell me I’m doing it wrong?”

“Nobody,” I agreed.

“Certainly not you,” she said. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. You know your place.”

I felt a shiver run through my body as she took away my right to criticize — as if I’d dare, anyway.

I said, sheepishly, “I’m, um, erect now.”

“Really?” she asked.

“‘Certainly not you‘ did it.” I said. “The way you talk to me with that voice…”

“I thought it might be the culprit,” she said.

“Can, um,” I started to stammer, “um, can I masturbate?”

“I was just about to suggest it.” She said.

So, it looks like I have a training session in my future. And I couldn’t be happier.