The Training of C

DAY TWO, ACT FOUR - TEARS BEFORE BEDTIME

Dawn walks over to the bed and reaches under it, taking a wide strap, passing it over your stomach, then firmly securing it to the other side. She unties your legs and wrists, the strap now holding you to the bed.

"Much as I love looking at you spread like that, you've been there a while and cramps are a bastard. So I'm being kind to you on this one occasion. Because I'm about to give your husband the best sex he's ever had in his entire life, and I'm going to make you watch – or at least listen to, your call – every...single...moment of it. All those things you won't do? I will. Enthusiastically. Because I fucking love cock up me. By the time we're done he may not even want you any more."

Judging by the look on your face it's a good thing Dawn kept you restrained to the bed, because I'm fairly sure you'd murder her with her own teeth if you were free.

I look at the pill, still not entirely convinced.

I'm dimly aware of you shouting "FOR FUCKSAKE J, NO!"

Some part of me not entirely under my control says "do it", and I swallow the pill. I've never taken Viagra before and I've no idea what to expect.

"It'll take half-an-hour or so to kick in fully, so I reckon we start in 12 minutes," says a worryingly organised Dawn. "So: tell me something about yourself. Who do you fantasize about when you're wanking in the shower?"

I look at her, startled. How the hell did she know about...

"Everyone does it, J. Even C, I promise."

I glance over at you. You're blushing.

"Perfect place, " Dawn says, wistfully. "Hot water coursing down your breasts, heating up your slit, the shower head accidentally falls and you have to pick it up and OOOPS the water shoots right up into your..."

"Dawn! Focus!"

"Sorry - got a little distracted there!" she giggles. I'll say. Her right hand has moved of its own accord between her legs, and I'm not sure Dawn even realises it.

"So go on, then - who do you wank to?"

"C," I reply.

"Well yes, sometimes I expect, but there must be others?"

"C," I reply. "Honestly, I fantasize about my wife. Well...mostly..."

"Mostly?" says Dawn.

"Mostly. Mostly mostly. The vast majority of the time. I mean, you've seen her arse, right?"

Dawn looks over at you, restrained face upwards on the bed.

"No, actually. Because I can't switch the bed off."

Good point, well made.

"Well trust me, it's fabulous." I say.

She stands up, turns around and displays her own to me, well within easy grope distance. Shit, if I leaned forward just a bit I could touch her buttocks with my tongue, and I'm worryingly tempted to do so. What the hell was in that pill? I start to get the nasty feeling I've been played, as a warm sensation starts to spread around my crotch.

"As good as mine?"

I genuinely have to give this some thought, because Dawn's ass is pretty damn awesome.

"About the same," I reply, diplomatically.

"Liar," she grins, sitting down again. "Besides, you can fuck mine all you want. Cum in it all you want. C won't give you that. Not yet, anyway."

It's a compelling argument, I have to admit.

"So go on, apart from C who do you wank to?"

"Er..." I say.

"Oh, go on. Tell me!"

"Velma Dinkly," I hear you say. Shit. I'd been about to make someone up, like Taylor Swift or some other woman that's, you know, real.

Dawn blinks. "Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah," I hear you reply. "He's got like 1,000 dirty pictures of her."

Not helping, dear, I think. Besides, it's scarcely more than 600.

Dawn looks at me steadily. "You're a weird bloke, J." she says.

"His first crush was on a puppet," you continue to contribute, unhelpfully. I suspect you're trying to inflict some emotional damage on me for the upcoming 'being unfaithful' event you clearly don't want to happen. Truth be told I'm having second thoughts myself. This is real, and something feels...off. Some part of me knows this is wrong, but is being overridden. Somewhere deep at the back of my mind warning lights are flashing urgently, and a deep, sonorous voice is telling me there's an intruder aboard.

"Nnnnnnng!" I gasp, fighting whatever it is, but it's too strong. Too well emplaced. An important, vital part of me fades away...

...and I lose the fight.

"So...what is it about Velma, J?"

I sigh, defeated. "I like her body shape. I like that she's a nerd. I like that she's busty. And if I got her into my bed I would absolutely fucking ruin her," I say with more passion and lust than most men generally display about a cartoon character. "Seriously. If I got her into my bed, by the time I let her out she'd weigh slightly more due to the sheer quantity of spunk in her ass and stomach," I chronically overshare.

"Well, now!" Dawn says, before standing up, reversing towards me, then slowly sitting down on my cock, which I note with some shock impales her arse easily. Either she pre-lubed it, has amazing muscle control, or both. She sinks lower until my cock is entirely embedded in her, then spreads her legs, then her pussy at you so that you get a very clear view of your husband's cock embedded in a strange woman's arse, and sighs contentedly.

"Jinkies!" she exclaims.

She starts to ride me, her arse clenching me deliciously. My hips start to move of their own accord. My hands move to her breasts. I grope them, fondle them, maul them, hurt them, to Dawn’s delighted squeals. I'm dimly aware that I'm less and less in control, and I'm more convinced than ever that that pill wasn't just Viagra, because my need to fuck this woman is owning me. My climax is building fast. Dawn clearly recognises this, because she shouts "Cum in my arse, J! Cum in my arse while your wife is watching! ARE YOU WATCHNG THIS, SLUT?" she screams, as my limit is exceeded and I cum like I've never cum before, into the arse of a woman that some part of me is starting to realise isn't entirely sane.

You wouldn't know to look at it, but the Club has cameras everywhere. Well, not the toilets. It's not that kind of place. But anyway...one of the services they supply to clients is multi-angle videos of the entire Training. I've got thirty-something BluRays of C's training sitting in a drawer. And they're the only way I know what transpired during the next 30-or-so minutes after that first utterly, ball-achingly wonderful, yet somehow toxic, climax. Because I have absolutely no conscious memory of that time whatsoever.

From the videos I know that after I came in her arse I proceeded - with evident relish - to thoroughly know Dawn. I fucked every hole she has, repeatedly, to her cruel delight. After one especially copious orgasm in her pussy, I know she mounted you and forced her cunt, filled with my cum, over your mouth. I saw you react with revulsion again. I also saw your hips rise, trying to grind against something.

Which was...interesting...

My next clear memory is of me firmly embedded in her cunt, slamming her doggy style while she's bent over you, forcing her breasts into your face and laughing. I cum hard - really hard - then a sensation like a jet of ice water washes over me.

"Woah," I say, and stagger to a chair, on legs that suddenly aren’t working properly.

"Aw, worn off has it? I'm told it’s a bit harsh." Dawn says, apparently oblivious to my cum running down her legs. How the hells did I make that much?

"You've probably guessed the pill wasn't entirely Viagra. It's actually a mad chemist's miracle. It’s partly Viagra, sure, but it's also a powerful male aphrodisiac and inhibitions suppressor. Also it enhances and accelerates your sperm production to frankly bonkers levels." She looks pointedly at her cum-drenched legs, and the black-light technician’s wet dream that is the floor.

“You’ll need to drink some water, J. You’ll be quite dehydrated.” She looks at the floor and her legs again. “Couple of litres, I’d say.” She pauses, puts one hand on her stomach, the other on her ass. “On second thoughts, better make that three.”

I look at you, C. The woman I adore. And I find I can’t look you in the eyes.

I look at Dawn, a woman I've just thoroughly fucked in every way you never would back then. I know I've been chemically manipulated, but even so. Guilt is building in me.

“Right now I bet you’re telling yourself that fucking me…and Christ, you really have a thing for anal, don’t you?..somehow wasn’t your choice. That the pill made you do it. That you weren’t in control. And to some extent you’d be right. Hormones can be utter bastards and yours were just super-charged. But here’s the thing, J: there are two cunts in this room. Two asses. Two mouths. But you only fucked mine. I know you’re not supposed to fuck C here in the Club, but you weren’t obeying any rules back there, and I wouldn’t have stopped you. You chose to fuck me, and only me.”

She stands up, grins down at you for a moment, then leaves the room.

Guilt crashes down on me, and I burst into tears.