Stories Hub / Chain Stories / The Training Ch. 05

The Training Ch. 05

by Un-registered 03/07/03

The Emirate of Kobekistan is one of those wonderful places where a visitor feels that they have stepped back into a more leisurely, more dignified era of history, but without sacrificing any of the more useful gadgets of modern civilisation. Air-conditioning protects the inhabitants from the rigours of a sub-tropical climate. Motor cars whisk them from one building to another. Desalination provides ample water. The most modern medical advances are practised in the hospitals. Television shows umpteen channels. Education utilises the most modern computer-aided systems. Childbirth is no longer as dangerous as it used to be, even though eunuch doctors are the only ones available to the women of the harems. Becoming a eunuch is very rarely a fatal operation since it is carried out by experts in surgical conditions second to none. A girl being cut and sewn to make her incapable of sexual pleasure and virtually unusable by a man (except for sodomy) now has a less than one in a thousand chance of contracting a dangerous infection. Moderation in all things is the watchword. Toleration extends to allowing alcohol to be sold to foreign workers in the country, though only within their company compounds. Women are taught to read and write, at least in some harems.

Of course, these facilities are not all available to all the population, but for all those who matter, the better families, they are taken for granted. A field slave might not benefit from all of them, but the medical services ensure that a slave no longer has to be humanely destroyed if an over-enthusiastic owner damages it somewhat while administering discipline.

The disadvantages of civilisation as it is understood in the West are nevertheless kept at bay. Advertising is negligible. Tourists are not permitted to enter the country. Women are not allowed to show their faces on the streets. Marriages are arranged by parents, who are wiser in their choices than the impulses of youth would be. There is none of the political brouhaha since the country is ruled by the Emir whom Allah has appointed. His word is law, literally; were he to say "Off with his head," the miscreant would be executed in public within the hour.

All of this is made possible by the oil on which the Emirate rests. When all the oil reserves have been extracted, in some centuries time, the level of the land will have been lowered by an average of ten feet. The oil is a 'heavy crude' which is dug out of the ground in lumps, looking for all the world like treacle toffee. There is none of the messy liquid to process and no unsightly wells.

The Emir, His Magnificence Mahmoud Abdullah, has ruled the land in peace and prosperity for many years. In that time he has made many friends throughout the world. Some of his especial friends share his tastes and interests in the selection, training, and breeding of women. Hearing of the transformation skills of the Masters Guild and its staff, the Emir decided to investigate.


It was some weeks after Alison returned from her visit to Japan when the Guild of Masters received an unusual visitor, and a royal visitor at that.

"Welcome to the Masters Guild, your Majesty," said Master James, somewhat unsure of himself in the presence of one so far above him in social standing. It wasn't the title that frightened him, it was the credit report he had seen that morning. Dun and Bradstreet had rated his personal wealth as requiring a telephone call to them. When Master James telephoned, fearing a hoaxer, they had assured him that the Emir could afford to pay a bill of "more than a billion dollars" from his personal bank account, and Master James had never realised that such a rating even existed.

"Relax, my friend," the Emir said, "I am not a Majesty. If you really want to be formal I am a Magnificence; to be truly formal I am His Magnificence, the Emir Ibrahim, but I thought that here I was among friends. A simple Sir will suffice."

After the tour of the premises, the Emir explained why he was there, "It is not the training of the women which interests me. We have our own ways of training them which I assure you work well. It was the transformation process that interested me."

As Master James started to speak the Emir held up one hand and continued, "I know. It is a secret. I don't want your secret, though doubtless it could be bought."

'To a man who could pay a billion dollars out of his personal bank account, the whole of the Masters Guild and all the Masters in it could be bought, and there would be enough left over to buy most of the US Senate,' Master James thought.

"All I may wish to do is have some women transformed, for a proper fee of course. The fee would have to include a guarantee of their safety."

"Sure we could arrange that, Sir," said Master James, "No problem."

"What worries me is that when you have transformed, let's say a quiet ordinary woman into a Hollywood Beauty Queen and enhanced her sexual desire to the point of nymphomania, can a man still enjoy her? Does it ruin her self-control and training?"

"If you will permit me, Sir, we can demonstrate such a woman to you whenever you wish."

"Tomorrow, then, about four in the afternoon? And it will be a private demonstration?"

"Most certainly," said Master James, and the Emir left.

Master James immediately rang Felix.

"Felix," he said, "Do you enjoy your visits with us?"

"Yeah," said Felix enthusiastically.

"Well, we, that is the Guild, would like to ask a favour of you."

"You got it," replied Felix without hesitation.

"We would like to offer Alison tomorrow, as part of a demonstration of our skills, to a visitor who is not a member of the Guild. He is an honoured guest of ours from overseas. Of course he does not have a member's right to demand her, so I'm asking it as a favour."

"I thought you now owned her?" asked Felix, perplexed.

"We do, for Guild purposes, but this is so far beyond our rights in her that I felt we should ask you, as a favour, to agree to this."

"Okay, right. Can I watch?"

"We hope you don't insist. He's a might touchy about that. You can watch on video afterwards, but not directly," said Master James firmly.

Felix shrugged, "Okay, I guess. Who's the big VIP?"

"Let us just say that he is Royalty from one of the oil states."

"A Sheikh or something?"

"Something like that, yes."


Mid-morning of the next day the Emir's Rolls arrived and Master James wondered what was happening. The chauffeur, a tall well-built Arab, seemed to be the only occupant and he delivered a parcel to Master James without uttering one single syllable. Opening the parcel in his office Master James found two pages of detailed instructions, and a harem costume.

Just after lunch Alison was duly delivered to the Masters Guild.

"You got plenty time to prepare; he won't be ready for you for a couple hours. Here is the gear he wants you in," said Master James, handing her a bundle of clothes, "I'll check you over and finish the preparation when you are done. Oh, and no jewellery. The rings come off for this man. He figures nipple rings are gaudy, and clit rings are stupid because they give the woman some pleasure but contribute nothing to the man's excitement."

Alison had a leisurely bath and examined the clothes she was to wear. The top was a sleeveless brocade waistcoat with some sort of sequins sewn in behind the embroidery making it sparkle in the light. It was in the style of a western bolero top, but had neither buttons nor button holes. That did not matter because it did not meet across the breasts but left them visible at each swing as she walked. The other garment was a pair of loose sheer chiffon trousers in pastel blue, with no gusset or seam between the legs. Thus the legs were encased, but the gap left the wearer's cunt completely visible and accessible. As the gap ran from the front waistband right through to the back, the arse-crack was also totally available.

Ally's spirit rose and her cunt began to liquefy at the mere thought of the reactions of the men who might see her in this outfit. Clearly these clothes were not designed for warmth, decency or comfort. They were designed solely for the pleasure of the man watching the woman who wore them. The blue of the trousers complemented her blonde tresses perfectly. Putting them on, she sat at the dressing table and carefully applied her make-up.

Then she walked out into Master James's office and asked, "Will I do?"

"Not yet," said Master James, "Lay on the couch; I have to complete your make-up."

He took some rouge and reddened her nipples and areolae carefully, then he applied more rouge to her labia. Turning her on her front he spread her arse-cheeks and oiled her anus carefully, using three fingers to make sure she was thoroughly eased open and it was all Alison could do to keep her mind on the guest she was expected to pleasure. As he was doing so, he explained what this client wanted.

"First, you are nothing to him. Your sole purpose in that room is for his pleasure. If he says 'cum' you cum immediately. If he doesn't order you to cum, you don't cum. You only ever do exactly what he orders. You only speak in answer to a direct question. If he hits you, he hits you and that's that. If he fucks you that's up to him. If he says 'jump' you don't wait to ask 'how high'. You start by kneeling at the foot of his bed and kissing his feet and slowly work your way up his legs. Then you start to kiss and lick his prick and balls. You don't take it in your mouth unless you are told to do so. He will direct you from there."

Master James paused.

"On your back and play with your clit," he ordered, "Make yourself nearly cum, but don't you dare finish."

After watching her for some minutes, Master James motioned her to stop, and then squeezed her cunt top to bottom to make it gape open and poured in a liberal helping of oil. Fingers again ensured she was completely lubricated. As he did this Alison longed for his thick length inside her.

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