Obedience Lessons

Train the Trainer - First Chapter Preview!

Prologue - The Beast's Cage

I hope he rotted in jail.

No. Rotting was a natural process, given to leaves and dead things to return it gently, however grossly, to the minerals of things to nurture the new. Rotting was too nice a process for Al. So here's what I really wished on him...

I hoped he got the biggest, burliest, horniest cellmate in the whole prison joint. And to that end, that he was fucked every uncomfortable wakeful moment of his prison sentence. Without lube.

I wished fisted, gaping and bleed-some sodomy on him as I was walked to my cell where I was to share his sentence of ten years for driving my fiancé to and from the bank. A bank which I was made to understand he robbed effectively in under two minutes - how reminiscent of our own lovemaking. It was like bank robbery practice in bed, 'Can I come in under two minutes? Gee let me see....'

"Come forward," the blue uniformed prison officer gestured with the baton and I imagined shoving it satisfying up into Al's rear orifice.

"Assume the position."

By which he meant, ''spread em". Gosh I had thought that was only in movies. And I had thought it couldn't have been more humiliating for my family to see me on trial, be sentenced for accessary to the crime and be sent to prison without a shred of personal belongings. It was like they wiped the memory clean and killed the 'good society mule' right from existence. And instead you were just 'a prisoner', or inmate 5427.

I extended my limbs and waited, once again for another random officer to derive his pleasure from feeling every curve of my body.

Yes. There it was. The customary linger on and between my breasts and over the rise of my ass. I marked this officer, with the low buzz cut and washed out blue eyes, as one to stay far away from until this was all over.

"Clear, you can come through." He waved me forward to walk ahead of him, "Turn right." He directed me through the dimly lit halls that stank of aged and rusting pipes and bars.

When we finally reached the cells the officer started counting, just beneath his breath but still audible in the close quarters. I could feel the interest of the inmates stirring, as some of them peered from their bunks or wherever they were crouched. I ignored it as best as I could while trying to size up who was the biggest bully among them all. I'd need friends for my ten years, or so I had been told.

"...Five and six. Now turn left." The guard must've been new or something if he still needed to count. He counted another six cells on the left, "...Five, and... six. Now turn right." He continued, "One, two, three, four, five ... six." He stopped in front of the sixth cell.

This one had better light, but appeared to be empty. The officer jangled the keys as he searched now for the right one, checking on me as if I could run away with my cuffed hands and feet in a secure facility. Asshole.

The key was labelled, '666' and was slightly bigger than the others.

You have got to be kidding me.

Inside the cell there was a wide comfortable mattress on one side, and a thin mattress that had been made neatly with autumn coloured sheets and even had a matching pillowcase. I knew which one was mine for sure. Because if this was the cage of the beast, I'd sure as hell sleep on the floor before I messed up the fine white comforter and white pillows on her bed.