She stood at the entrance to his apartment, clearly uncomfortable. And that wasn’t surprising, she’d followed the instructions to the letter. Stood there in a tiny tight crop top and a skirt that barely covered her, she wobbled on the five inch heels he’d specified. This was not an outfit she was used to wearing.
And so it was even worse when he’d first opened the door, looked her up and down, gave the tiniest nod of approval.
‘Don’t move’ was all he said, and promptly shut the door again.
That had been half an hour ago. And she’d stood, as instructed, burning with shame as other occupants of the swish apartment block passed her in the corridor, whispering things she tried not to hear.
And now he was back, finally acknowledging her presence.
‘So you want to be one of my denial sluts do you?’ he asked without even looking up.
‘Yes, oh god yes, I do, more than anything,’ she pleaded.
‘You’ve been edging? When did you last cum?’
‘Two months ago, Sir’ she offered hesitantly. ‘I do the five edges every day as instructed, I can even hold it for a few minutes!’ she began to feel a little bit more confident.
‘Very good. Show me.’
She made a move to step into the apartment but he blocked her. ‘No, here. Show me, right here.’
She had pretty much already given up on keeping any dignity, so she lifted the little skirt to show her shaved mound, and closing her eyes in some kind of vain attempt to pretend she wasn’t standing in a corridor, she began to touch herself.
She was shocked at how wet she found she was. She was amazed at how fast she got to that edge, and as she reached that aching precipice she looked up, into his eyes for the first time.
‘I’m there, Sir’ she gasped.
‘Good girl, come in,’ and he stepped aside, his hand gently on the small of her back, even that touch sending her heart racing faster than it already had been.
The door closed with a solid click as she found herself in a very neat, spacious, modern apartment. She followed him instinctively into the large sitting room and stayed where he indicated while he walked over the the huge fridge in the open plan kitchen.
He returned with a glass of iced water, giving it to her. ‘Drink up,’ he instructed her. ‘I’ve been looking forward to your arrival, Rebecca. I have to say, you’re even more beautiful in the flesh than all the photos you sent me.’
The cool water did nothing to quell the blushing that arose on her cheeks.
‘Thank you Sir, I’m very happy to be here at last’
‘You did well at the door,’ he assured her. ‘But I have another task I require before your accepted onto the program. Take off everything but your shoes’
Nervously she lifted the crop top above her head, and let her skirt drop, stepping out of it as elegantly as she could. She’d been practising.
She put her hands behind her back, holding her elbows, knowing that was the position she was to adopt when stripped, and his smile of appreciation sent a tingle from her neck right to between her legs.
‘Very good. I’m going to touch you now, is that okay?’ he asked, stepping close.
She stuttered her consent and then sharply took a breath as his warm hand cupped her in a way no one ever had. He lingered there and then let his finger tips trace their way around her body as he slowly circled, taking in every part of her, fingers gently exploring in ways that made her want to moan out loud.
He broke off and went to fetch what appeared to be a stool and placed it in the centre of the room.
‘This was a gift from a good friend of mine, a fiery little redhead who was one of the first to know my ministrations,’ he explained. ‘She thought it was funny, until I made her use it. Now it’s become something of a tradition for the new girls. We call it, ‘The Juicer’’.
He placed it down in front of her and she looked in astonishment at the unusual feature. A literal lemon juicer shape built into the chair with a track to collect the results.
He pulled a shot glass out of his pocked and placed it on the floor, carefully lining it up.
‘Sit,’ he instructed her. ‘You have as long as you want. You’re to fill the shot glass with your pussy juices. I should warn you though,’ he looked at his watch, ‘the other girls will be done with their denial buddy sessions in half an hour. I’m sure they’ll want to help if you haven’t filled it by then.’
She cautiously climbed onto the stool and found the cone was surprisingly effective at stimulating her mound. She was so aroused that grinding herself against it seemed to come naturally.
He made a little noise of approval and walked to the open plan kitchen, seemingly ignoring her as he began to chop some vegetables he took from the enormous refrigerator.
As she worked herself against the juicer she felt the flow begin, tickling her cheeks as it gently began to fill the trough. It was so frustrating, she wanted more. ‘May I touch?’ she begged him.
‘No, you may not,’ he replied, not even looking up.
True to his word, half an hour later four girls, entered, flush, happy, chatting, a couple holding hands. All completely naked. It was so strange to see these girls in the flesh, Rebecca almost felt like she knew them already from reading their journals. And now they’d see her, like this.
‘Oh she’s here!’ one of them cried in a German accent, and they all rushed over, introducing themselves, whispering little things to each other she couldn’t quite hear. They crowded around her and another of the girls whispered in her ear conspiratorialy, ‘You should ask him if we can help or you’ll be here all night.’
She asked, he laughed and rebuked them for cheating, and gave his approval. Before she knew it, four pairs of hands were all over her, touching her in ways she’d only dreamed of. But it was the mouths, oh the mouths, that brought her the greatest pleasure.
It wasn’t long until another of them chimed in, ‘She’s filled it Sir!’.
In response he made his way over, picking it up, and smiling with his approval at the large shot glass, filled with her arousal. He gave it to her to hold.
‘Nnnnow what?’ she stuttered, holding it in her hand.
‘You tell me,’ he replied with a dark smile.
She paused, looked at him, then the others, biting her lip, and then hesitantly at first, lifted the glass to her mouth, and downed it in one.
The other girls cheered and clapped. ‘She’s a keeper,’ one of them declared among the cheerful laughter.
He leaned in, kissed her on the cheek and then whispered in her ear, ‘Welcome to your training’.
With thanks to Lusty Longing for inspiring the story with the picture!