The Training

The Conceit

The Conceit

“No way. Can’t be done.”

“Are you saying you can’t do it?”

“It’s either in you or it’s not. Like religion.”

“All it takes is the right person to draw it out. After all, every relationship is dominant-submissive.”

“That’s true. So where does that leave us?”

“You mean, who’s sub and who’s dom?” She gave him a sly smile.

“I mean with this philosophical riddle. You still think you can take anyone at random and turn them into a slave?”

“Not just me, anyone can. Even you.”

He glowered. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

She waved a hand in the air. “Don’t be insulted. I didn’t mean your abilities come up short. We both know they don’t.” She smiled again, this time with a fetching blush.

He nodded in acceptance of the delayed compliment, also remembering the night before and how well he cropped her ass. The marks still hadn’t faded, he knew, by the way she gingerly sat on the edge of a wooden chair at the outdoor café. He sat back in his own chair, for the moment placated.

“What I meant was,” she said, “even someone with an initial reluctance for this, uh, shall we say proposition? Challenge?”

“Search,” he said.

She considered and nodded. “Yes, a search. Even a hesitant participant in the dom role could still turn a random subject into a crawling slut.”

“I’ll grant you the point,” he said. “But where’s the tension? You want to train an SM virgin into a slave. So do I. So the premise is accepted. But what is the ultimate goal?”

She thought again for a moment. “The goal? The goal?” She stared off into the distance, then, in sudden revelation, her eyes lit up in determination. “Why, to become an addition to our family, of course.”

His eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? It might be too soon -”

“Better too soon than too late.”

Now he took time to consider. “I see your point.”

“And it has to be a woman. Male slaves have their own special qualities, but I just don’t see one joining our special family unit.”

“I agree. A woman,” he said. “One of suitable age.”

He sipped at his bloody mary. “If I went along with this... Wait a minute, if things don’t work out; is this just a ploy to get a little tail of your own?”

She blushed and smiled again. “Well...just a little. We just don’t know what might happen, do we?”

He nodded, glad he caught her out, even in a small way. “Well, I’ll grant the whole concept has a certain appeal. And you’re right; the time is now. Now, as to who... How about that business-suited one at that table over there? She looks suitably repressed and is probably dying to let those t**s bust loose. Or maybe even our run-off-her feet waitress? She’s got a nice set.”

“Random, my dear. Not who has the biggest knockers. Random.”

A young, fresh girl strode by. Nice face, decent figure. Short, red hair.

He pointed after her. “She’ll do.”