Training: The Beginning

Chapter not complete, will finish adding and editing as soon as I can

Sex with Stephan sucked. We were so wrong for each other. Oh well, we just needed new slaves. For some reason, we seemed to run through slaves like a person goes through toilet paper. Stephan and I were horrible at sex together. We are both dominants. Fighting over every move you make in bed without permission from your partner quickly becomes tiring and kills the mood in the snap of a finger.

It had been about a month since both of the last of our individual harem's moved on. We needed new slaves. We needed them now.

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I watched his three choosen ones from the window of my office. It was a good thing I owned this club. If not, it could have taken weeks, if not months, to find new girls to train. And the sooner i can help him get them trained, the sooner I can get my self-made list of candidates started.

Thoughts of my own novices set my own wheels turning, eyes calmly searching the crowd for my boys. Each one was at their own peek of perfection. I couldn't wait to have each one of them on their knees before me, begging to lick my boots.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sipping my congac I watched my wife studying the customers. She was beautiful. Her full, round breasts nearly overflowed from the cups of her electric green leather corset. The rest of her dominatrix ensamble was black leather. Her nails were the same green as the tempting top. Hair that was black as night and like a river almost to mid-calf was now artfully streaked with the green that I knew took hours to apply and would be gone by opening tomorrow night. But the best part were the contacts.

Don't get me wrong. My wife is hot any way you strip her. But I can just see her spread beneath my body, glistening with sweat, lips parted, staring at me through electric green cat eyes, mewling her pleasure. The thought had me instantly hard and I struggled to rearrange myself, to dig my zipper out of my cock.

* * * * * * * * * *

Movement in my husbands corner of the room drew my attention. He is an amazing specimen. His hard, muscled body, encased in leather, heavy combat boots giving him another two inches of unnecessary height, cat-o'-nine-tails in his hand, obdient slave at his feet, all starred in many of my fantasies. Amung other things.

Looking at him now, I could tell why he was moving into the crowd of dancing club goers. He got himself all hot and bothered. And from the looks of it, his leather pants were making it extremely incomfortable. Serves him right. He probably got carried away thinking about his new little gaggle of harem girls.

Snorting, I turned away from the window. Heading for the bar and my new supply of vodka, there was a knock on the door. Angry at the interruption, I grabbed a whip from the wall before opening the door.