Novel & Cerita Gay Slave Training

But just as quickly as the moment of hope began, that she might get to finally be fucked in front of all these people, it came to an end. "Not so fast, Hole. These aren't for pleasure, they are for training. Just as you have always been gagged since I found you, now you will always be filled. These toys, versions of me, are only to be removed for your basic functions and when you are used. I want to train your mind to always expect to feel me inside of you. Over time, you will learn to feel wrong, profoundly wrong, anytime you are not filled. Though this ceremony has made you mine forever in contract, there is still more of your body that I would own. You will know yourself, forever, as my h

Gwen said. "You can ride in the front with me. The slaves can sit in the back. I have to admit I'm curious about you," I said. "Thank you." I escorted her out to our car, my slaves following behind. I helped her into the front seat. Julia and Lisa got in the back. Taking out the Slave Trainer, I told Lisa to put it on. "May I see it a moment before she puts it on?" Gwen asked. I handed it to her and Gwen inspected it. "I thought this was to prevent your slave from having orgasms. It looks like it would do the opposite," she said, fingering the penile projection.

His tiny, smooth clit was locked away in a shiny metal cage, the keyhole winking mockingly at the men who surrounded him. This was his third session with Jamal’s group, and Clay’s mind was still reeling from the revelations of the previous two encounters. He had thought it was just a hot porno setup, a young twink servicing older black men who needed a tight hole to breed. But Jamal had other plans. He wanted to train Clay as a permanently locked faggot, a pet for the group to use whenever they needed to relieve their urges.

"It's not that bad. I found that timber wolves are just like huskies—they're very obedient. I mean, they do exactly what I say, whether it's standing or dancing." I ran back to the training facility in a daze and stood there in silence, watching the three timber wolves I had trained dancing in grass skirts. I started to think that no matter what animal I chose, Yvonne would somehow claim it as her own. I even considered quitting since I couldn't change the outcome. I applied for a leave of absence to head back to my hometown, using the excuse that my grandma's hens had stopped laying eggs and I needed to train them to fix their behavior.

I needed to explain—carefully—without exposing my true intentions. “The reason I changed the training curriculum,” I began slowly, “is because it was too brutal. Especially for the omegas. It was killing them.” Killian didn’t look up, his posture relaxed, almost dismissive. “That’s how it’s been since Greenville was founded.” I shook my head and leaned forward, pressing my palms against the desk. He needed to hear this. If he reverted to that brutal method, history would only repeat itself.

My wrists tugged helplessly against the straps as my legs spread wide and dripping, my body convulsing like a desperate whore begging to me fucked hard and rough. “I—I need—” I sobbed out, the words catching on my tongue as another violent wave of arousal crashed through me. I wanted to be filled, split open and used. My body was no longer mine, it belonged to the serum, to the Trial, to him. Lazarus fucking Thorn. “The rules are pretty simple.” I felt his voice crawl through my veins like poison. “If you can last three hours without cumming, you pass. Be sure not to disappoint me, bunny. I have high hopes for you.”

“What…punished?” But he was duly ignored. “You are here to be cleansed. I will train you to silence the temptations of the flesh. The affliction you carry—your homosexuality–will be subdued through discipline, fasting, and prayer. A schedule has been created for you that will not interfere with your general tasks as a Postulant. The others need not know your true purpose here.”

Pleasure, so much pleasure it’s building in my core and has me moaning like a whore. That’s when I realize Killian is turning me into a sex slave. That’s what he’s training me for. It shakes me to the core, but in a strange way. I want to be his whore and only his. Maybe it’s because I can handle one man using me for his pleasure especially if he’s willing to give pleasure in return, but multiple men using me scares the hell out of me. Thankfully, Killian has agreed to the majority of my request. I might have to suck up a few training sessions with Emmett, but I know Killian won’t let him bed me. If it’s just touching I might be able to get around it and it will only be one other person. It

I think she's adorable, and I notice a likeness between him and Shan. "It's strange. I'm hoping you were included so that there would be an expert who could instruct or train them, right?" "That's why! Now they're paying for a gay trainer," she explained. "It appears like they just wanted money, and I watched their performance in the group chat. Gosh, I don't know what to say. It's rubbish." "It's their loss they didn't take you," I shrugged. She only said, "I also understand, it's the rules," and flirted with her boyfriend once again.

If Easton cared so much about his mother, if he hated what his father did to her, why did he turn around and start to do exactly the same thing to me? A slow tear rolls down her cheek. “It pains me that he turned into his father.” “He’s not that bad,” I lie. “He treats me well enough.” Gayle snorts derisively. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” She puts her glass aside and rises. “Best run along. He’ll be furious if you are not there when he returns from training.” She starts to leave the parlour, then stops and turns around to look at me. “I’ve heard that there are places for…things like you. Places where your kind are kept safe.”