Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
About how I’d come so hard with a stranger’s cock in my mouth and Chad’s cock in my ass that I’d nearly passed out. About how they’d high-fived over my back while I was still twitching from the orgasm.
About how I’d loved every degrading second of it.
“Look at this little slut,” Chad said to his friend. “Heather even comes when she’s getting it in the ass.”
“Can I try?”
“Nah. I keep the ass for myself. Gotta have some boundaries. You want to try her pussy, though?”
And I… I had clenched and whimpered around the friend’s hardness as he held my head in place and fucked my face, at the prospect of my ‘boyfriend’ sharing my pussy with a man whose name I didn’t know.
No. I couldn’t tell anyone that. Not even Ryan—let alone this awful woman. I wouldn’t. Some doors had to stay closed.
“I feel outraged,” I said, my voice stronger than I’d expected. “I feel like my rights are being violated.” I leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, meeting Mrs. Chen’s eyes directly. “Did my husband consent to this? Did Ryan actually agree to have me… trained… like some kind of animal?”
Mrs. Chen’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course he did. In fact, he’s completing his training preferences as we speak. He’ll be specifying exactly what kind of discipline you’ll receive, what methods will be used, what boundaries exist—if any.”
The blood drained from my face. “What do you mean, if any?”
“Well, that depends on what Ryan decides you need. Some husbands prefer their wives to maintain certain limits during training. Others feel that complete surrender is necessary for true growth.” She glanced at her tablet. “Given what I observed between you two today, I suspect Ryan is beginning to understand that you need a very firm hand indeed.”
The van slowed, turning into what looked like a business park. Through the tinted windows, I could see a cluster of low, modern buildings surrounded by manicured lawns and high fencing. A discreet sign read SELECTA Solutions in sleek corporate lettering.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Chen announced. “Your new home for the next few days.”
CHAPTER 5
Heather
The building looked so normal from the outside—just another corporate office complex with glass and steel facades that could have housed any number of legitimate businesses. But as we pulled into the parking area, I noticed details that made my stomach clench. The fence was higher than I’d first thought, topped with something that might have been decorative, but looked suspiciously like razor wire. The windows were all tinted dark enough that I couldn’t see inside. And there were security cameras everywhere, their black lenses tracking our van as we approached.
Officer Martinez parked near a side entrance and climbed out to open my door. The late afternoon air was cooler than I’d expected, and I shivered as he helped me out of the van, my legs unsteady after the drive and my arms stiff from the handcuffs.
“This way,” Mrs. Chen said, gesturing toward a glass door marked ‘Private Intake.’ A woman in scrubs was already waiting for us, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun that somehow made her look both professional and intimidating.
“I’m Nurse Simmons,” she said as we approached, her voice crisp and efficient. “I’ll be handling your intake processing, Heather.”
I wanted to refuse to respond, to maintain some shred of dignity, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I don’t want to be processed. I want to call a lawyer.”
Nurse Simmons exchanged a look with Mrs. Chen, and I caught the slight smile that passed between them. “I’m afraid that’s not possible at this time,” she said. “But I promise you’ll be much more comfortable once we get you settled in.”
The intake area was sterile and clinical, all white walls and fluorescent lighting that made everything feel exposed and harsh. Nurse Simmons led us through a set of doors that locked behind us with an electronic beep that made my heart race faster.
“Officer Martinez,” she said once we were inside the entrance, “would you remove the handcuffs, please?”
I felt a moment of relief as the metal restraints clicked open, my shoulders aching as I brought my arms forward. I rubbed my wrists, trying to restore circulation, but the freedom was short-lived.
“Now then, Heather,” Nurse Simmons said, turning to face me with that same professional smile, “Go ahead and remove your clothes. All of them. Wives in this facility must be naked except when allowed clothing for specific training activities.”
I stared at her, my mouth falling open. “What?”
“Your clothes,” she repeated patiently. “Please remove them and place them in this bin.” She gestured to a plastic container next to the doors.
I just stood there, frozen. Strip? Here? In front of these strangers? My mind reeled, trying to process what was happening. This was supposed to be some kind of counseling program, not… whatever this was.