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)
The dining room looked exactly as sterile and institutional as it had earlier, but now there were other women seated at one of the two tables. Three of them, all completely naked like me, their conversations stopping as Master Paul led me inside. I felt my face burn with shame as their eyes took in my appearance—my tearstained cheeks, my swollen lips, the obvious signs of recent discipline written across my body.
“Ladies,” Master Paul announced, his voice carrying easily across the room. “This is Heather. She’s just beginning her program with us.”
The women’s expressions were a mixture of sympathy and recognition. They’d all been where I was now—stripped naked, broken down, forced to confront truths about themselves they’d tried to hide. The understanding in their eyes was almost worse than judgment would have been.
“Heather,” Master Paul said, his hand moving to the small of my back in a gesture that was both protective and possessive. “I’d like you to meet your fellow wives.”
I recognized the woman on the left immediately—she was the one I’d seen on the treadmill earlier, her dark hair still pulled back in that same ponytail. Her athletic build was more apparent now without even the sports bra, and I caught a glimpse of the end of the purple stripes across her bottom even with her seated. She looked up at me with eyes that held both defiance and resignation.
“I’m Joann,” she said simply, her voice carrying a slight edge. “Welcome to paradise.”
The woman next to her made my stomach lurch with recognition. Long black hair, striking features, athletic build—she was the one I’d seen in the intimacy room, the one who’d been taking the trainer’s cock in her ass while moaning with what had sounded like helpless, genuine pleasure. I couldn’t meet her eyes, my face burning with the memory of witnessing her complete submission.
“I’m Lisa,” she said, her voice warmer than Joann’s. She studied my face with knowing eyes, then glanced down at my backside. “Looks like you’ve had quite an introduction to Master Paul’s methods.”
The third woman was softer looking, with neatly styled brown curls and warm hazel eyes that radiated sympathy. “I’m Elizabeth,” she said gently. “Here, let me get you something to sit on.”
But it was Lisa who stood first, moving to a cabinet near the wall and retrieving a small cushion. “Trust me,” she said, returning with it, “you’ll want this for tonight, and probably breakfast tomorrow too.”
I could barely look at any of them directly. The nudity was overwhelming—seeing these women completely exposed, their breasts and bare pussies on display as casually as if we were having coffee in street clothes. But it was worst with Lisa. Every time I glanced at her, I saw flashes of that intimate scene, the way she’d pushed back against the trainer, the sounds she’d made.
“It gets a little easier,” Elizabeth said softly, as if reading my thoughts. “The… exposure. You learn to adjust.”
Joann snorted. “It doesn’t get much easier. You just get used to feeling like a zoo animal.”
Master Paul squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll leave you ladies to get acquainted. Heather, remember what we discussed about permission.” With that, he turned and left the dining room, leaving me alone with the three women.
I settled gingerly onto the cushion Lisa had provided, wincing as my tender bottom made contact even with the soft padding. The relief was immediate, though, and I found myself genuinely grateful for the kindness.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Lisa, still unable to meet her eyes fully.
Dinner was served by staff members who moved efficiently between the table and the kitchen, placing identical plates in front of each of us. The food was surprisingly good—chicken Caesar salad with crispy romaine and perfectly seasoned dressing, followed by a small but decadent brownie sundae for dessert. It wasn’t gourmet, but it satisfied me and even took my mind off my sore backside.
As we ate, the conversation gradually turned to how we’d each ended up here. It started when Joann mentioned her husband’s ‘complete transformation’ after talking to the NMA counselor.
“One day he’s asking me politely if I’d like to try a different position,” she said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force. “The next day I’m being dragged out of my house by some corporate goon squad because apparently I have ‘anger management issues’ that require specialized training.”
“Come on, Joann,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t gaslight the new girl.” She turned to me. “Joann isn’t telling you that she broke two lamps when her husband tried to persuade her to calm down.”
Joann laughed. “Fu—” she started, then looked nervously around, and started again. “I mean, fully justified, but maybe not the best approach to marital harmony. On the other hand, Jake was being an… I mean, a jerk.” She gave me a wry look. “One thing they’ve managed to get me to reconsider, here, is my foul mouth.”