The Training of Bobbi Part 2
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The Training Of Bobbi: Part 3 free porn video
The Training of Bobbi Part 3
By latexslut
I could hear them, the din, the noise, even from down here in the changing rooms.
The entire coliseum audience was screaming. It was a mingling sound of Mary!
Mary! Mary! And her opponent, Wanda! Wanda! Wanda! Wanda! And in the background,
the warbling rock and roll noise that some people call music.
I was down below, in a dressing room, being touched up. Everything, I was told
had to be perfect. And it made sense, to me, at least. Part of this was
showmanship, and part of it, was skill. Steel skill. And anger. And Mary, My Wife
had so much of all three. I had felt her anger.
"Bobbi, hold still," I was told, as my eyeliner was fixed up darker. This from
the makeup lady, supervised by Charleen's assistant. Her name was Ming.
"You must look positively slutty, slut." She said.
I said nothing. I sat still as a statue, uncomfortably.
Ming was of course lovely and a chatterbox. Not by nature, but, mostly by the
tension of the moment. Like everyone else, Ms Ming was dressed to nines, in very
high heels, though lower than mine, I thought, a mini-dress, and nothing else.
But as an Asian woman, she didn't need anything else. Raven hair and slanted
eyes, and dark complexioned, she was naturally beautiful. It took me a moment to
wonder how such a naturally attractive woman would know how to over make up a
guy, but then, in my fade, I forgot the question. I would have loved to wear so
much less, but I knew my place. I had been taught this over the last seven days.
Charleen poked her head in, "Showtime baby,"
I stammered a yes.
She turned to go, then stopped and looked back at me appraisingly. "My god,
bobbi, you look positively ravishing. If I didn't know better, I would say that
you look better than me." Then She laughed, as I blushed and smiled faintly. "But
of course no one looks better than me, except your Wife."
I was pleased with Charleen's compliment. I could feel I was decked out, but
hadn't been able to see myself at all. During the dressing, which had started
about six hours ago, I had been blindfolded. That had started luxuriously, with
me finally removing the clothes I had been wearing since the night of my wedding
to Mistress Mary.
Ming had prodded me to a scented bubble bath. After she had reshaved and
dipilatored all of my hair. Then she had put me into a Jacuzzi with the water so
very hot and kind. Ming joined me and massaged me in it. I had faded once or
twice - I was so tired and hungry, but she gently nudged me back to
consciousness.
"You must be awake to enjoy," she told me.
After that it was the scented bubbles again! She followed this with a full body
massage, easing the aches on my back, waist, feet. The foot massage was beyond
words, my pinched toes cracking and stretching out again. But then it was time to
dress again.
But after all this time, it seemed more reassuring, somehow. My stomach having
been corseted for the last week, was already hurting from the lack of constraint.
And my calves felt painful from the lack of support of the high heels. It is
amazing how much your body can change in only a week.
She started by watching me do my bathroom rituals, but stopped me as I was going
to insert my plug. "Tonight is the championship, bobbi. You must wear a champion
plug."
I stood there, shivering slightly, in amazement as Ming set down a leather
covered cigar box.
Ming opened the box and inside it laid the strangest device I had ever seen. It
was a latex, cock shaped anal visitor, to be sure. But it was colored gold and
had small protruding knobs spread around it. Then she flicked a switch at it's
base, and it began to move, slowly, round and round, longer then shorter, the
knobs withdrawing and then protruding again. Ming smiled.
"I can't," I said.
Somehow, I felt I could be honest, or backtalk, even, to this understanding
woman. I would have never said so to Charleen, let alone my Wife Mary.
Ming arched an eyebrow. Then said, "You must! You must be at your best, if Your
Wife will win this day!"
"Ms Ming, I can't! It's too scary. And Mistress Mary won't even know if I'm
wearing it." That came out a bit petulant.
"Shush, bobbi, you will know it, and She will be able to see that you know it. So
you will, but we will simply put it in, and start it later. Okay, hun?"
Humbled by that thought, I gently took it. I was surprised by its weight. It must
weigh five pounds.
Ming was smiles again, after I had inserted it with loaded of scented lubricant.
My penis, so long confined, was embarrassingly at rigid attention.
"That wonderful little tool of yours, will be taken care of, bobbi, after your
Mistress wins this day."
And then it was the chore of dressing. But under Ming's ministrations it was all
so easy to do, tired as I was. She oiled me everywhere, being very careful around
my penis. I was so ready to explode. Then I was blindfolded.
I felt latex. Lots of it. The articles slid on like water. First came a very
thick condom, with an attached ring that clicked tightly at to the base of my
balls that were so blue with fire and desire. Then came sort of penis sleeve that
covered them and my penis. It was frustrating to me, for I knew this was a
confinement, even maybe a chastity belt in a loving embrace of sorts.
She drew up from my toes to my legs over my waist, to my shoulders and along my
arms and to my fingertips a latex suit that was, to me, far too small. It was
tight and I was oiled and slippery and I almost fell.
"No falling yet, bobbi. Hold up your arms."
Blindly, I did. And in a moment, they were cuffed to a bar overhead and I was
being lifted off of my feet.
The corset was attached, tightened, adjusted and tightened again. It was long,
going to high thigh up to my shoulders, with shoulder strapped and huge cups
around my chest area. Ming tightened the back lacings again, then the front side
lacing and then again, the back lacings. I could hear her grunting with the
effort. And, I faded.
I was sitting down again, on a high stool, with Ming supporting me, the corset
pinching.
Charleen poked her head in then, looked at me, then at Ming. "Going good?"
"Yes, Mistress Charleen. It was good of you to give me the time. Very slow going
to do perfection."
I vaguely saw Charleen nod, and close the door. "Two hours left, Ming."
Ming was fastening on my boots. Just shy of ballet boots, which I had practiced
for, they had extremely narrow spike heels. The toes were on a two inch narrow
platform, but I could tell they had extreme arches, because my feet were pointed
straight down all the way to the front palms of my feet, where suddenly my toes
felt forced way back and squeezed into points. She tied them tight, which I
appreciated; otherwise I might break an ankle. They were rather kinky, I felt,
reaching up to mid thigh.
It seemed now, that all the preliminaries of me were done, so now it was the
basics. I felt a dress lower over me. Or something. I heard Ming zip up the back
and felt it tighten as she did so.
She put short gloves on my hands. Then Ming put on my neck corset, so that I
could not look to see anything but the dressing room and sometimes Ming.
The dressing room was bleak. Ming was a delight to see, when I could.
For the next hour and a half, Ming ministered to me. Now it was all about my head
and face. She put a wig on me - I saw it as a blonde mess wig. She plucked,
attached earrings innumerable. It hurt when Ming pierced them again a couple of
times on each side. And painted me. I couldn't see me, but I could see the
brushes and colors. I suspected the worst.
Not once did Ming ever raise her voice to me, just gently coaxing me along this
path of pleasure. I was amazed at my submissiveness to her, but I also knew, that
close at hand were both Charleen and My Wife, Mary the Mauler.
Now Ming unfastened the neck corset and told me to stand and look at myself in
the full-length mirror behind me. As I did, everything on me moved, slid,
adjusted and tugged and I felt waves of sensuous sensation course over me, in a
way I had never known could be just two weeks ago. My ever present butt plug
adjusted, the oiled latex stockings slid, the corset stopped jamming me in my
waist, the garters tugged, and my feet immediately felt the sharp tilted
pointedness of my boots.
I tottered, but Ming supported me. "You like, baby bobbi?"
I looked and was amazed. I blinked, but I was still there.
Four weeks ago, I had entered a contest to get free money. Two weeks ago, I had
been told I won. Eight days ago, I met my Wife, my prize, so to speak. Seven days
ago, She started training me to be her bitch. And now I was looking at myself,
disconcerted, caught up in things, and just fucking beautiful, though I never
would have thought of things that way.
Black stiletto boots reached to my thighs. Pink latex showed under the black
ruffled latex maids dress. Pink latex arms reached to purple latex shortie
gloves. And my face!
I was a tart. Ming had painted on me, so many colors, and so thickly. The
eyelashes looked like they were glued on from a costume store for Halloween (and
they were glued on). My eyelids were iridescent: nine colors as far as I could
count, from deep blue at the lash to high pink at the arch, layered each other.
And my eyebrows had been changed so that they scoped up. Or maybe that was thick,
thick coating of eyeliner. Koal. I thought.
Fat rings of black surrounded my heavy eyes, and tilted up at the edges. They
reminded me of Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra. But the lines continued until they
disappeared into my wig.
I blinked. I saw myself blink. My wig was something Dolly would die for. Teased
and wild, it was blond, thick and surprisingly light.
So many earrings! No wonder my ears hurt! Long spangly earrings. One set hung
long all the way to my waist.
I licked my lips and I was drawn to the fact that I had so many coats of
lipstick, gloss and liner, that I had best not to that again. I looked at Ming
when I did. She only arched that eye of hers. Said nothing.
I would fuck me, I thought, suddenly. I would. I'm prettier than Mary, Charleen
or Ming.
I am the Best fucking slut ever! And then it crashed on me. I'm not a girl. I am
a sissy.
I am trained to look this way, or try. And then it almost crashed on me again. I
started to ponder, what is next?
Charleen poked her head in, "Showtime baby,"
Eight-inch heels with a narrow too inch platform are beyond difficult to walk in.
One could say it's impossible, but it's easier than that if you have no choice.
If you don't know how to do it, you look ungainly. I, with the most resolute of
heart, tried.
Ming helped me. "Sway, baby, sway."
I tottered through the corridor, trying to look my sexiest. For some reason. It
came to me that if I'm going to be this way, I must be this way as best as I can.
And Ming, who had been so kind to me, not even hitting me at all, was right
behind me.
Looking at me. Observing. I owed her too. My best.
Each step I took, each click, and each clack, took me closer to exposure. I knew
this.
I felt the corset (oh boy, did I feel the corset), the sliding, the plug, and the
thrumming of the chants over head.
"Stop. You can't go out there like this!" Ming said. She produced my breasts.
They were formed silicon filled breast shapes. I had forgotten all about them,
somehow.
She unzipped me by half, and pushed them in, and zipped me back again.
I noticed, immediately, the weight. I looked back at Ming. She nodded. "Real
breasts, real weight. Go now."
But they weren't real weight. Nor real size. I noticed it on the mirror overhead.
They were huge breast shape thingies. I looked like a 44D, with, after my
starving, a 22" waist.
No matter.
I stepped out into the limelight. The crowd roared. Here I was, "the fox". They
didn't know if I was the sign holder, or the strutter, or what. But they could
see, most of them men, actually, that I was "the slut".
I never knew why people went to wrestling matches. So many are faked I suspected
it was for eye candy, and that I most definitely was.
And now, there was Mary, My wife and Mistress. In the ring. She looked at me. She
looked away and shook her head, and looked back at me. I smiled weakly.
And then Mary looked back again, beaming. Beautiful, as though with a halo. She
was decked to the nines too. Charleen clearly had taken care of that.
Red leather gloves, tank top, and a skirt, which I noticed was a tearaway, and
her spike mules. No earrings, no jewelry, nothing more. It was, after all, a
wrestling match.
She beckoned me, with her gloved fingers and I went. Climbed under the rungs,
somehow. And tottered toward her.
"My god, bobbi!"
I felt flustered, so I didn't say anything. The crowd was getting to my nerves.
"You are so beautiful!"
"Thank you, Mistress Mary. It is all because of you."
"Yes?"
"Yes."
"Do you like being this way, now?" Mary said loudly enough to hear, but soft
enough so no one else could hear.
I bantered. "Do you like me this way now? Mistress Mary?"
She reached up and pulled on my earrings fiercely. "Damn straight, bobbi." She
hissed.
Then we were interrupted....
"Ladies and Gentlemen. We are gathered here to determine the Woman's Wrestling
Champion of the World..."
The noise, already hurting me, gathered.
"IN this corner stands (though she was sitting) Mary the Mauler!"
"IN this corner stands (and she was sitting too), Wendy the Wicked!"
"AND the winner will be the Woman's Wrestling Champion of the World!"
The din got louder. To me the lights seemed too bright. Everything seemed to
sway. Then my Wife said to me, "Go tell her she is an asshole."
That got my attention. Woke me up. "What?"
"What, Mistress, you stupid shit. And never mind. Go tell her she is an asshole!"
Mary was visibly shaking. Afraid? Maybe. Angry at me, not now. She was far too
preoccupied.
"Now!" she hissed. "Right fucking now!"
This was bleak. I truly wanted my wife to win, then maybe... well just maybe
anything, even though I suspected in parts, that Mary was lesbian to Charleen. I
had seen that often enough over the last week. I had participated too. Maybe I
was nothing but a tool.
I said, "Yes Mistress Mary. I love you."
She blinked, smiled a trace.
I turned, as eloquently as I could. The noise! I could hear, see them stomping,
making noise, drinking beer, being. Well, just being them, but it was, all in
all, sordid, to me.
I approached Wendy. Unlike Mary, Wendy was kind of gross. Big, heavy, and very
masculine. I smiled to myself at the irony. She is she and guy looking. I am I,
and girl looking. Quite.
Wendy was standing, jumping, and punching air, when I approached her. I took on a
wayward calm, as though I was wearing armor or something. And did something very
foolish.
I looked her in her puzzled eyes, and said, "Wendy, you are an asshole." And then
I punched her. Right in the nose. And all hell, to me, broke loose.
The referee started over, the crowd roared, Mary said that's my husband and Wendy
stared at me, not hurt, though she was bleeding. Surprised.
With my latex gloved hand, I hit her again.
I do not know why.
Wendy recovered from that last immediately, gave me evil eyes and - I have never
been hit before not with a genuine fist, spanked ever day for the last seven days
and backhanded, but not hit - clocked me. It was not a wrestling move. Nor a
boxing move. I was just slammed and fell. I felt my nose begin to bleed. I had a
moment to think that this would ruin my makeup. Then Wendy grabbed me by my
ankles, spun and threw me, far, far over the mat. I hit the ropes with a jar and
bounced back onto the mat.
But then Mary was there, and this wasn't wrestling anymore. No play tags here.
"No one can hit my Husband! No one but me!"
Mary smashed into Wendy's mouth and Wendy smashed into Mary's face. They blocked
and traded. There was a leg lift that threw Mary to the floor and as Wendy
jumped, she got ribbed by Mary.
All the time Mary kept saying, "No one fucks with my husband!"
I felt protected, in a way. The crowd could hear what Mary said, and my eyes
noticed briefly, that they did not believe what they saw, or understanding what
Mary was saying. Why had the foxy slut hit the world champion wrestler?
Wendy was the better wrestler. She had a body that was made for this. My wife had
the intent. It was an even contest. But, as I lay there, it hurt to watch.
They were trading blows. Smashing Mary's beauty, Smashing Wendy's less beauty.
Deforming themselves. Charleen, looking worried in the ring but unable to stop
it. Ming couldn't seem to watch and was huddled, crying.
I watched as Mary hitched an uppercut to Wendy's jaw, and saw Wendy do a kidney
blow to Mary. This was not play acting. This was real and not choreographed.
Bam! That was Mary's head.
Bam! That was Wendy's rib.
I dazedly stood up and put myself into it, tottering, trying to stop this fight,
and they both, somehow, pushed me away. I think Mary was the one to punch me,
before She launched another fist at Wendy. My arms pin wheeled, as I tried to
regain my balance, it was impossible, and I landed hard on my butt.
I crawled away, over to Mary's corner, and Mistress Charleen absently lifted me
to my feet. Now, I was watching bleakly, with Charleen. I commented. "This is not
good, Mistress Charleen."
"No."
Now Mary tried a back flip, showmanship I thought, to get some distance, but
Wendy caught as Mary landed and kicked her knee in. I could hear it break. Mary
made no sound of pain, but her eyes were clear with hate. She fell back onto her
back.
Wendy, and oh suddenly I hated her so, I so wanted to rush out and assist Mary,
but Charleen held me back, started pulling and grinding Mary's broken leg.
The crowd, the audience, the people who had wanted blood sport, quieted. This was
not sport, this was, was, a viciousness that they, perhaps, had not known they
would have to see... And as they grew quiet, they could hear my wife groaning in
pain, anguished pain.
Wendy leaned over. I could see clearly that this person did not simply want to
pin someone, let alone Mary, but to deactivate, disable, remove, someone, the
challenger, from the competition. Forever. Wendy was twisting Mary's leg, as if
she wanted to pull it away.
I tried to go again, but Charleen held me back. "She will be okay, dear."
My eyes rolled to her. "You stupid bitch! My Mistress is going to lose her leg!"
Charleen, so kind but forceful, backhanded me, casually. "Maybe, but I don't
think so. And you will pay later for that."
And Charleen was right. Suddenly, with the experience of all the training that
Charleen had forced into her, Mary did something that I can only say was a sit-up
head bash.
Their heads connected, Wendy fell back and Mary rolled over on top of her. She
could have simply pinned her. But she didn't. Instead, my wife bashed Wendy's
head into the padding twice and then looked at me.
"Obey Me," She mouthed. "or else."
Then Mary started bashing Wendy's broken head over and over again. Sometimes, She
looked back at me, lips bleeding like a vampire. Sometimes more focused on just
bashing Wendy's head in.
Finally, it was done. The referee decided that Mary was the winner. He had no
choice. Mary wasn't going to pin Wendy. She was going to kill her. Even I could
see that. My wife and Mistress, whose sanity I had doubted, was clearly crazy.
They gave her crutches. At any sports event, those and medics are close by.
She hobbled over to me. "Oh bobbi. Looks like you got a bit of an ouchee."
I quivered. "For you Mistress. Only for You."
She gazed at me steadily, and sighed. "You fought well for your Wife of life.
Obey me..."
She was tired and hurting, very hurting. It had made me tired too.
"Anything you wish, Ms Mary. I am yours."
"I know that." She gave me a look so dominating, so venomous, I almost tottered
back a step.
Even in pain, and bruised as she was, the fighting spirit was in her, and though
I had love in my heart, I had fear in my head. Seven days of training, spankings
and Mary's wayward moods had taught me fear and obedience were of equal
importance. Love came after.
The crowd, so subdued by the venom of the match, began to make noise again.
And now the Judge came in. He announced. "Mary the Mauler!" Cheers began roaring
through the crowd. "Is the Woman's World Champion of the Universe!"
Mary hobbled to grab the gold cup, stopped, said, "I could not have done this
without my husband, the slut."
And I thought, what did I do.
Mary looked at me and mouthed, again: Psstt: obey me now, you slut."
There are more chapters to come.
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