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)
Participate directly. The phrase had sent a jolt through me that I was still trying to process. Over the past few days of watching the video feeds, I’d seen my wife transformed from the modest woman I thought I’d married into the submissive slut I’d fantasized about. The change seemed remarkable, and very welcome—but it also challenged me to respond in a way that honored our marriage while giving us both what we needed.
I sat in my car for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel as I stared at the innocuous corporate building. Through those walls, Heather was being systematically broken down and rebuilt. The woman who emerged would be different from the one I’d married—more honest, hopefully, and more devoted to her wifely duties… as well as ready to please me in the bedroom.
If I could take her in hand properly, the way the trainers at Selecta Solutions had done.
The video feeds had shown me glimpses of what Heather truly needed. The way she’d responded to Master Paul’s dominance, the desperate hunger in her eyes when he’d denied her release, the skill she’d displayed when… when she’d knelt before him and taken his huge penis into her eager mouth. That last image had been the hardest to watch, not because it disgusted me, but because of how aroused it had made me. My modest wife, whom I’d never even had what I’d considered the brutality to ask to perform such an act, had clearly done it many times before.
With someone else. Someone who’d trained her body to crave exactly what I’d been too respectful to provide.
I climbed out of the car and walked toward the entrance, trying to take resolve from the onward movement of my legs. The receptionist smiled brightly as I approached. Husbands visiting their wives in their sexual rehabilitation facility were clearly a normal thing in the world of Selecta Solutions.
“Mr. Montgomery,” she said warmly. “Dr. Hamelin is expecting you. Please, follow me.”
The corridors looked exactly as they had in the video feeds—sterile, professional, giving no hint of what actually took place behind these walls. We passed several doors marked with numbers, and I found myself wondering whether one of them was Heather’s room. Was she in there now, bound and desperate? Or serving Master Paul like a dirty little whore?
Dr. Hamelin’s office was large, with a mahogany desk and leather chairs that spoke of expensive tastes. The man himself looked exactly as he had on screen—sharp-featured, calculating, completely in control.
“Ryan,” he said, standing to shake my hand. “Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”
I settled into one of the leather chairs, trying to project more confidence than I felt. “How is she doing?”
“Remarkably well, actually,” Dr. Hamelin replied, settling behind his desk. “Your wife has been very responsive to our methods. She’s beginning to understand what she truly needs from her marriage. Her first formal training—as we call it—is going to take place this afternoon. You’re invited to participate—and in fact to take charge, if you find that to your liking.”
Heather
I walked into the dining room on shaking legs, my body still humming with frustrated arousal from my encounter with Master Paul and my jaw feeling sore from the brutal way he had used my mouth. The other wives were already seated, and I gratefully sank onto the cushion Lisa had left for me, wincing as my tender bottom made contact.
“You look like you’ve had quite a morning,” Joann observed, her dark eyes studying my flushed face with knowing sympathy.
I couldn’t meet her gaze. The memory of what I’d just done in the shower, the way I’d knelt before Master Paul, made my cheeks burn with fresh shame. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered.
“That’s fair,” Elizabeth said gently, passing me a plate. “We’ve all been there.”
As we ate our lunch—shrimp salad with fresh vegetables—the conversation gradually turned to the program itself. I finally had the opportunity to satisfy some of my curiosity.
“How long have you all been here?” I asked.
“This is my third day,” Elizabeth replied. “I go home this evening!”
My heart leaped. “This evening? So the program is only three days?”
Elizabeth shook her head, casting a sympathetic look at Lisa. “Usually, yes. But some of us…”
With a sour look, Lisa finished the thought.
“Some of us have earned extended stays.”
“Extended how?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.
“I’ve been here six days,” Lisa said matter-of-factly. “I kept fighting them at first, kept trying to maintain my dignity. Every time I disobeyed or lied, they added another day.”
Joann snorted. “I’m on day five myself. Apparently telling Master James exactly where he could shove his paddle wasn’t considered ‘ladylike behavior.’”
“What happens when you go home?” I pressed. “Are things… different?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks colored slightly. “Thomas came yesterday to watch me get trained. He says he’s learned a lot from observing how the trainers work with me. He’s… more confident now. More decisive about what he wants from me.”