Training Rose
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Training CentreChapter 11 free porn video
Tuesday, week five;
Sam, having swapped his shift, had cancelled his alarm. He still woke at five am, though, and the change in his body woke Martina. They were face to face and looked into each other's eyes. Martina's bore a mixture of hope, fear and, yes, desire. Sam's some confusion, some anxiety, but mostly desire. He wriggled and slid his arm under her neck, pulled her to him, caressed her back with his free hand. In response, her free hand found his cock, already half hard, and held it. That completed the erection. Her pussy moistened. Became wet – very wet. A previously unknown drive inside her impelled her to fling her leg over him, draw her knees up, position his cock, and, sitting up with the duvet slipping off them both, lowered herself onto his hardness.
"Oh God, Baby!" The words were torn from his mouth as if by torture.
"Baby is it? Really? Master, I'm yours. Whatever you want, I'll try to become." Her pelvis was making newly learned movements, stimulating her pussy, her clit, his cock. She stiffened and stilled as her first orgasm arrived, their pubes pressed together as her pussy muscles rippled. Resuming, a second orgasm arrived just as his semen was bathing her cervix. She stayed upright and his hands found her breasts. "Not very big, are they? And if I lose weight they'll be even smaller."
He chuckled. "Not worried. Besides, I know a way of making them bigger."
She didn't say anything to that, but she did think. 'Bigger? Does he mean implants? Or ... does he want babies? I always wanted children, but Paulo... '
"Come, lay beside me, Martina. We don't need to get up yet."
"We'll have a wet spot."
"Something for you to sort out while I'm out. But yes, let's get up and shower."
After a thoroughly enjoyable shower – necessary, but also recreational – Sam called the kitchen. "Hello? Yes. Corporal Sam Howe. Apartment three. I require cooked breakfast for myself, plus the assigned diet for Trainee IS29/12."
"Certainly. Is this urgent? Or will the same time as the Centre do?" There was a pause and then, tentatively, "You've kept a trainee in your apartment?"
Sam frowned, about to respond with 'none of your business', but instead decided a neutral, factual response was better. "The use of Trainees by off-duty staff is in the procedures, but in this case I am assuming personal responsibility for this individual. Her lunch will need to be delivered to my apartment, but later she may be participating in activities within the Centre, the kitchen, or the laundry. However, the food will be billed to my account."
"Understood. Will seven-fifteen work?"
"Fine. Thank you." He replaced the internal phone and looked round to see Martina holding a bundled sheet.
"Master, what do I do with laundry?"
"Linen, towels, and so on, go in a laundry skip outside each room. I will be billed for each item at the end of each month. My clothes I hand wash and hang over the bath to dry."
"You're going out today, Master? I am to stay in here?"
"Yes to both. I may be back by lunch-time, but I cannot be certain of that."
Meanwhile, the remaining women were out of bed and working through their exercise regimes. Sam, of course, had no equipment in his apartment and did not want to take Martina to the trainers' gym until she had his collar and some exercise clothing.
"You want me to cover up?"
He couldn't decide if her pout was real or assumed. "No. But I don't want other men seeing you naked in a red collar and bending you over a vaulting horse. You're mine. At least for the next year. I don't want to share you."
"But I have to share you?"
He was almost sure the pout was assumed. "Unless you want me to resign?"
She stepped up to him and held his face between her hands. "Master, I'm sorry. A share in you is better than I ever thought I'd have. I don't mind, really."
He dipped to kiss her, her hands sliding to hold the back of his head. The kiss intensified and his hands found her bum and began to squeeze. It would probably have led to another bedroom encounter, had a knock on the door not announced the arrival of breakfast. As it was, it took a real effort of will to separate and they were both panting.
After breakfast, Sam didn't allow himself to think about anything other than leaving the room and the building. He still hadn't admitted his love for Martina, even to himself, but the parting kiss – a mere brush of the lips – declared it to her as clearly as a fanfare of trumpets. She watched him leave with eyes glistening.
Left alone – alone and to her own devices – for the first time in over a week, she initially picked up the t/v remote, but then put it down and ran warm water in the sink. She took the sheet, stained with the evidence of their carnal activities, and washed it by hand, then set it aside in the bath. She then washed Sam's discarded clothes from the previous day, and rinsed them and the sheet in the bath before hanging everything from the rail over the bath.
Finished with laundry, she found a duster and attacked the layer of dust that accumulated on every level surface above eye level before she swept the whole apartment. Dusty and short of breath, she put everything away before running through some exercises that didn't need equipment; squats, crunches and press ups. (She couldn't do many of any of them, but she was determined to improve. If she did three that day, she'd do four tomorrow).
By the time she had exhausted herself and the available occupations, it was approaching midday and she showered off the sweat and dust. It was perfectly timed, as Sam returned just as she was towelling off.
His eyes widened as, having torn his eyes away from her body, he saw the clean, neat and tidy state of his apartment. She led him to the bathroom and proudly pointed to the laundry.
"Martina – you didn't need to wash the sheet!" He immediately noticed her face drop. "Oh, I don't mind. I'm impressed and pleased. It's just..."
"Master, I think we may be going through a lot of linen, don't you? And there's no need to pay someone else to do it when I'm here. It's my job, Master, and I want to do it."
"Well – put that way..." he kissed her. "Thank you. Now." He held up a small device. "Let's get that red collar off you."
She stood still as he released the plastic collar and laid it aside. He kissed her neck. "I hate to do this," he said, holding up a narrow, stainless steel collar, engraved with her legal identity, IS29/12, and his name as the exclusive holder of her Indenture. The collar, a little less than an inch wide, had radiused edges for her comfort, a small range of adjustment and was locked in place by a pin that had to be cut to enable removal.
"Master, I am proud to wear your collar. I am proud to belong to you."
He shook his head in incomprehension. "I have some Lycra exercise gear for you, and we'll need to fetch your trainers and bra from the Centre." He reached out and tweaked a nipple, "But first..."
Major Prestwick, having arranged for a meeting room and an extra trainer for the afternoon, took RSM Reg Smith, Chairman Booth, Philippe Sturgeon, Andrew Whitten and Joshua Sutherland out of the Training area to the meeting room. Once everyone was settled with their choice of beverage, he began.
"Chairman, I've asked you here to bring you up to date, make some observations, and to ask for some amendments to our procedures. First of all, this week we reached our complement of trainees. However, one of our trainers has formed an attachment to one of the new trainees, IS29/12, Martina Rossetti, and has bought her Indenture, with the agreement of her former husband. I understand Andrew is to take over Zero Four's Indenture by the end of the week?"
"Yes, sir," Andrew interjected, "but I need to bring Dorothy to meet her again, to confirm her approval. Junior will need to come with us. I don't think Dorothy will object."
The Major nodded in satisfaction. "We should be able to take the next two on Sunday without exceeding our nominal complement, then. I was appointed, as I understood it, because I was not interested in abusing the women. My staff were all selected with that in mind. Most of the women needed the prompt we give here, but the last two women are just here because their responsible male wanted rid of them. Now, our experience of the last four weeks has taught us something. Before I get into that, though, there's something else I need to point out. That is, there is no call for a large number of prostitutes. There is no real call for even a few more prostitutes. Madame Anastasiya's girls are hardly overworked. So why think that prostituting these women will pay for this facility?"
When he stopped, Chairman Booth spoke up. "We realised that the prostitution wasn't a real option, and expected the women to be bought out, usually by their former husbands or fathers. I am certainly intending to take Helena back and probably Karen too."
"That's good to know. But we've found out that some of the women have talents that need to be nurtured. For example, Chairman, did you know your former wife is actually a competent pianist? Or your daughter a potential scientist? Philippe – your former wife is actually quite a gifted artist, and your daughter seems to have a way with words. Also, we've taken the time to find out what turns the women on, why they've not been interested in sex at home."
"So, Major. What would you like to see?"
The Major nodded. "First of all, the referring person should pay for the stay up front. We should not be aiming at turning the women into prostitutes in order to pay for all this. Secondly, while we should work on their attitude and explore their sexuality, our aim should be to give them saleable skills. And getting them physically fit, of course. That's for us. Here's the hard part. There's something wrong with a society which sidelines seventy-five to eighty percent of its population. That is your responsibility. I don't know if it's politically possible to emancipate our women, but it makes no economic or social sense to keep them second-class citizens."
His words produced a tense silence which lasted several minutes. He waited them out.
"You're right." The Chairman eventually agreed. "Politically, though? Difficult, if not impossible in the present climate." He frowned. "We can pass local bye-laws, but the problem is enforcing them. As regarding the present Centre set-up..." he paused, "I don't think there's a problem, at least with the present Committee members. Others, though," he paused again, "I agree we need to amend the admission rules." Then, after several seconds more, "Of course, some could come out of the penal budget. That young woman – Linda Burgin..."
"Twenty-nine stroke ten," inserted the Major. "Yes. Taking and driving away. Driving while uninsured. Causing death by dangerous driving. Her indenture is for five years. Actually, I've been thinking of some useful work we can put her to once she's acclimated to the environment. I'm sure you've noticed the weeds growing round the building. Then there's Zero Nine; she's here because of a criminal offence. Incidentally, her five year Indenture seems excessive set alongside the seriousness of Ten's offence."
"Quite. Yes, Major. I'll take your concerns and discuss them with the Committee. The women in line for admission, should their families not be willing to fund their training, can be returned, or consigned to the open market..."
"Don't much like that idea," the Major put in. "They should be assessed as to their character. Neither of the last two trainees should have come here, and they certainly should not have been dumped God knows where. I'd rather accept them and consider finding them an appropriate placement quite quickly."
The Chairman obviously didn't like the correction, but he had to admit the justice of it. He sighed in resignation. "Very well. We'll tackle the families."
The Major knew he'd got as far as he could for the moment. "Thank you, then, gentlemen. I think that's all?" Receiving nods all round, he stood. "Joshua. A moment?"
"Certainly, Major."
The others filed out, leaving the two men alone.
"Joshua, I know you've got your wife and that other girl..."
"Myra."
"Myra, yes. Might you have room in your household for Eleven? I don't want to keep her here longer than I have to."
"Room, yes, but..."
"Talk to your ladies, Joshua. See what they think."
"My ladies, plural, Major?"
"Yes, Joshua. I think there's no doubt they are both devoted to you."
Joshua acknowledged the comment with a shrug. "With the new regulations, I'll probably free Myra and ask her to marry me quite soon. I never thought I'd be looking at a plural marriage, but Ksenia and Myra are very close."
"Ask them. Unless you're opposed to the idea?"
Joshua shook his head. "I'll ask."
"Interesting meeting, Husband?"
"Um. You could say that. I'll tell you all about it, but I want to involve Myra. It's time to, um, regularise our relationship."
"Yes, it is, Husband. And past time."
"I know. I've just been waiting for the right moment. Is Dorcas asleep?"
"She was. I'll see."
The two women, blonde-haired Ksenia and dark-haired, fair skinned Myra, found Joshua in the lounge. "Please, sit. Relax."
Once they were settled, though Myra seemed nervous and was sitting on the edge of the sofa she shared with Ksenia, Joshua presented Myra with an impressive document bearing a court seal. "Myra, this is your manumission. Your freedom. I hope you'll want to stay here with us, but you're free to go if you wish."
The girl accepted the vellum. She looked at Ksenia and Joshua, rather than reading the words. "I..." she swallowed and glanced round again. "I don't think..."
Ksenia took her hand. "It's okay, Myra. We don't want you to go. But it's important that you be free to answer the next question."
Myra looked away from Ksenia and found Joshua kneeling on front of her. Her heart pounded almost painfully.
"Myra, Ksenia and I both love you. We want you to join us in marriage. Will you marry us, Myra?"
The girl's jaw was flapping and she was wildly looking from one to the other. Her eyes glistened with tears. One eye overflowed and a tear tracked down her cheek, to be followed by more, from both eyes.
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