His Indecent Training: His Indecent Duet, #2

By Sky Corgan

There was an uneasy feeling in my chest as I stared down at the submissive questionnaire that Damien Reed had given me. Learning about BDSM would put our relationship on a completely different level—a level I had wanted so badly since first setting eyes on him. Damien was handsome, dominant, caring, and still a complete anomaly to me. More than anything, I wanted to unravel his mystery—and become a part of it.

This was the next phase of our relationship. The phase where I was more than just his student. The phase of commitment. But it came at a price. Many of my normal everyday freedoms would be stripped away. I would have to learn to obey his every command, to be at his beck and call. Not his girlfriend, but his submissive. In truth, I still wasn't sure it was what I wanted, but I would do anything it took to be close to him, and if this was the price . . .

This is the sequel to His Indecent Lessons and cannot be read as a standalone. It's filled with lots of steamy bits too hot for this blurb and has an HEA ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sky Corgan
• Release date: Sep 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386842309

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

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There was an uneasy feeling in my chest as I stared down at the submissive questionnaire Damien Reed had given me. For the past few weeks, he had been teaching me about sexual nature and fantasy. This would be taking things a step further. Learning about BDSM would put our relationship on a completely different level—a level I had wanted so badly since first setting eyes on Damien Reed. He was handsome, dominant, caring, and still a complete anomaly to me. More than anything, I wanted to unravel his mystery—and become a part of it.

Initially, I hoped for a normal relationship with him. But Damien Reed's desires ran darker than that. I had tasted his carnal lust, pressed up against the glass window of a public building. He had taught me that sex was more than just a man and women coupled together. It could be so much more—have so many different sensations.

I licked my lips, thinking of all the things we had done together. Memories of being blindfolded, and handcuffed, and forced to masturbate for him. Everything he did to me brought a new wave of emotions and sexual bliss. Before I knew it, I had become addicted to his lessons—addicted to him.

This was the next phase. The phase where I was more than just his student. The phase of commitment. But it came at a price. Many of my normal everyday freedoms would be stripped away. I would have to learn to obey his every command, to be at his beck and call. Not his girlfriend, but his submissive. In truth, I still wasn't sure that was what I wanted, but I would do anything it took to be close to him, and if this was the price . . .

On top of the questionnaire was a letter. It read as follows:

To the submissive under consideration:

You are reading this letter because you have taken an interest in becoming a submissive. The first part of the process is to fill out the following questionnaire for examination and consideration. Many of the questions are very personal. Please be advised that it is important for you to answer all questions as honestly and thoroughly as possible.

Part of being a submissive is to be completely open with your Dominant. By accepting this questionnaire, you have agreed to take the first step in that process. All questions must be answered from the bottom of your heart. There must be no falsified information or half-truths.

If you come across a question that you don't understand, research the information. It is your responsibility and first duty as a submissive under consideration to fill out this questionnaire completely. Failure to do so will result in consideration for your training to be revoked.

The seriousness of it twisted knots in my stomach. If anyone else had handed me such a letter, I might have smirked or laughed. Damien Reed didn't play games though. Every typed word was meant wholeheartedly, and I knew that if things were going to work between us, then I had to be as honest as possible, no matter how uncomfortable it made me or how bad I might feel about my answers.

In truth, I had been putting off filling out the questionnaire for a while. The sheer number of questions on it made my head spin. Some of them were easy to answer. Some of them, not so much.

It was down to the wire though. I would be meeting with Damien Reed the following day to go over my answers. Whether I liked it or not, the questionnaire demanded my full attention if I wanted to belong to him. And I did want to belong to him.

With a sigh, I removed the staple from the stack of papers and filed the letter to the back. The first page was a basic health questionnaire, asking me about drug usage and medical conditions. For the most part, I was a good girl. The only drug I had ever experimented with was marijuana. I enjoyed it, but not enough to go out of my way for it. My medical and psychological history was clean too. The only thing wrong with me was bad vision, and I preferred to correct it with glasses, which Damien already knew.

The next few pages got a lot more intimate. There were questions about my sexuality, my experience, what I expected from my relationship with Damien, how often I wanted sex, and what types of domestic skills I was good at. Behind that was a list of words for which I had to write down my own definitions. The last few pages of the questionnaire contained a mile-long list of kinks. I was supposed to indicate which ones that I would be interested in trying, my level of interest in the activity, and which ones I absolutely wouldn't do.

By the time I finished filling out the questionnaire, it was past midnight. My brain felt completely fried, and I couldn't believe I had spent almost three hours on the thing. Thank God the weekend loomed ahead, and I didn't have to be at Damien's place until four o'clock the next day.

Exhausted, I crawled into bed, staring across my nightstand at the stack of papers that had consumed so much of my time, wondering if Damien Reed would be pleased with my answers. Whether he was or not, I probably wouldn't know. His face was usually expressionless, rarely betraying a hint of his true emotion. It was one thing I hated about him, adding to the mystery that was Damien Reed. So many times, I had wondered what was going on inside of that gorgeous head of his. I suppose it didn't matter now though. Once I turned in that stack of papers, he would be mine. At least, that's how I assumed it worked. In reality, I still wasn't quite sure what to expect. But Damien would teach me. He was good at that.

Despite the tiredness that plagued me, my mind swam with thoughts of upcoming lessons with Damien Reed. He promised me so many new and exciting experiences. After reading the extensive list of kinks, I wondered how many of them he planned to explore with me. Some sounded more fun than others, like fantasy rape and toy play, but at the very top of my list was spanking. I yearned for Damien Reed's large powerful hand to slip my panties down and spank my ass until it was a warm pink. The very thought of it made my pussy ache.

Chey, you've been a very bad girl, I pictured him saying, looming over me, tall and dominant and handsome. He'd stare down at me with those hard brown eyes, eyes that always meant business. Like a good submissive, I'd turn my backside to him for punishment, or was it pleasure?

He'd look at me with little regard, making me feel small and uncertain, as he often did. When his fingertips touched my hips to pull my underwear over my ass, I would quiver with excitement, my body's central pleasure core heating up like a switch had just been turned on. I never understood how a simple touch of his hand could ignite my desire so, but I certainly didn't mind it. Damien Reed was a sexual circuit, and I was his conductor. Together, we made electricity flow until both of our bodies exploded in ecstasy. It was a perfect match.

Even as I thought about him, electricity was flowing to my sensitive areas. I sneaked a hand beneath my nightshirt to tweak one of my perked nipples before I slipped it down the front of my panties. Already, I was wet for Damien Reed, for his deft hand on my smooth wanton skin.

My mind returned to the fantasy while my finger absentmindedly flicked across my pleasure button, massaging teasingly, as Damien would do. I pictured myself crawling onto his lap, leaning over it, my naked bottom poised for punishment. Silently, I begged for it, waiting with a yearning that put my entire body on edge.

He'd rub his palm over my ass, groping and squeezing, warming me up for what was to come. By that time, my pussy was throbbing, the tides of my pleasure slowly moving into shore. The hand would leave my ass, and I'd bite my bottom lip, picturing it pulled back, ready to strike. Then the blow would come, sending fire through my backside as skin kissed skin. I'd cry out, but not from discomfort.

Again, I whispered, and again he would draw back and let his hand crack against my ass. Blow after blow rained down on me, not hard enough to bruise, but just enough to blush my skin. Each strike would send a shot of pleasure straight to my cunt.

Don't stop, I begged, wanting to feel the warmth drown me. And he didn't stop. Not until the tidal wave of bliss consumed me, and the sensitive nerve endings in my clit fired off, rejoicing from the stimulation.

I gasped into the darkness, rubbing tight circles against my clit and feeling the contractions play beneath my fingertips. The pain in my ass subsided as my orgasm ebbed away, leaving me gasping and content. Damien Reed was nowhere to be found. I was alone in my room, panting, with my hand shoved into my panties, staring up into the blackness of night in my bedroom, praying for sleep, waiting for morning to come.

CHAPTER TWO

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At promptly three forty-five the following evening, I was sitting in front of Damien Reed's massive house. I glanced at the three-tiered fountain in his circular driveway and the blue and red flowers that surrounded it. The water cascaded down serenely, as it always did, and I found myself wondering if he ever turned the fountain off.

It was a stupid thing to think about, especially when I should be worrying about other things. In a matter of minutes, Damien Reed would be reading the answers to my questionnaire, assessing them and considering whether or not he had made the right choice in asking me to be his submissive.

I turned my gaze down to the stack of papers, which I had neatly stapled back together. Did the continuation of our relationship rely on the answers within? Probably not. Damien had been pretty adamant about wanting me as his submissive ever since the night at the cheer studio, when he had taken me so violently against the glass window. My cunt pulsed every time the memory came to mind. It had been the first time we had sex together, and probably the most memorable sexual experience of my entire life, not that I had many to boast about.

My heart raced with equal parts nervousness and anticipation as I climbed out of my Miata and straightened my skirt before walking up to the door. It seemed like no matter how many times I found myself in front of his house, the butterflies in my stomach didn't realize I had been there before. Many many times before.

I knocked and waited for the sound of his footsteps. When the door opened, my butterflies took flight, swirling the emotions in my body. Admiration. Love. Lust. They were all there when I looked at Damien Reed.

Come in, he said, stepping aside for me to enter.

If he was excited to see me, I couldn't tell, but that was to be expected. I was slowly getting used to his poker face. It was rare that Damien Reed was anything other than strictly business.

Instead of leading me to the classroom, Damien took a detour and went to the living room instead. I shamelessly watched his ass as he walked, that perfect round ass that was oh-so-squeezable. Someday, while we're making love, I'll wrap my arms around him and dig my nails into that ass. Not today though. To touch Damien Reed without his permission was almost unthinkable, though I couldn't help but wonder how he'd react. Part of me wanted to find out, but the part of me that was still unfamiliar with him was too shy. Another time, perhaps. Would there ever be another time though? Soon, I would belong to him. Acting out of line might earn me a punishment.

I bit my bottom lip, thinking of my spanking fantasy from the night before. Damien had told me punishments wouldn't be like that. But oh what fun it would be if they were.

When he gestured for me to sit on the sofa, I was forced to put all naughty thoughts aside. Now, we would be getting down to business.

I noticed another stack of papers sitting on the coffee table, and I groaned internally. Please, for the love of God, don't make those papers be something else I have to fill out. While filling out the questionnaire had been fun in its own right, I really didn't want to have to go through it again.

Damien caught me looking at the papers but said nothing, which didn't make me feel anymore confident in what they were.

Did you finish the questionnaire? he asked, holding out his hand to me.

Yes. I nodded, leaning forward to give him the paperwork.

Did you fill it out completely? The tone in his voice implied doubt, and also a sense that he'd be highly disappointed in me if I hadn't. After all, I'd had the questionnaire for much longer than I was originally supposed to.

It took me a really long time, but I did complete it entirely, I replied, watching as he turned the first page over.

As he read my answers, he spoke, That stack of paperwork on the coffee table is for you. On the very top is a list of my rules. Beneath that is a mock contract for you to take home and go over. Tonight, I'll input all the missing fields. Tomorrow, we can discuss the contract and any changes you think should be made to it. After we agree on the terms, I'll print out the actual copy for both of us to sign.

It didn't take a genius to know he expected me to look at it right away. Taking his queue, I picked up the stack of papers. When I flipped them over, it took everything in me not to scowl. I suspected what I would find. After all, this wasn't the first time I had seen a submissive contract. While I had never been a submissive before, I distinctly remembered looking at one in a book about BDSM. This one seemed longer somehow. Tediously longer. I dreaded the thought of having to read it all. Would everything in the lifestyle be this complicated? Hopefully not.

I sighed, starting from the beginning. By all rights, the document looked legally binding. It was written in the serious style that a lawyer would use, with specific clauses sectioned off, addressing every aspect of my submission, from the purpose of our relationship to the rules of my servitude. Each line was meticulously detailed, and far more restrictive than I thought our relationship should be.

Damien coughed, forcing my attention to him.

You can read that later tonight. It's the paper that was on top of that stack that I want you to read now.

On top? I stared down at the paperwork for a moment before I realized what he meant. Feeling stupid, I pulled the paper from the bottom of the stack and placed it on top of the contract. Down the length of it was a numbered list of rules. It read as follows:

I will obey, serve, and please my Master, understanding that whatever my Master wishes of me is for my own good.

When I am not in the presence of my Master, choices that I make will reflect only what I think would please my Master.

When my Master speaks to me, I will respond without hesitation.

When others are present, I will not speak unless my Master gives permission except to say that they must speak to Him first.

I will not enter a room without requesting permission from my Master.

I will learn everything that my Master is willing to teach me and will demonstrate my knowledge upon request or whenever it pleases my Master.

When around company, my Master is to be treated as the most important person. If I am called upon to serve, I will always serve my Master first.

If I have done something to displease my Master, I must tell him immediately.

I will never disrespect my Master, whether in a public or private setting, whether He is present or absent.

I will not flinch away from punishment or hesitate when it is time to receive it.

I will thank my Master for my punishments and, after punishment is received, will promptly recite why I was punished so that I may always remember not to repeat the same mistake.

My Master's needs must always come before my own, no matter the circumstance.

I will always tell my Master before I am about to orgasm so that he may decide whether or not to allow it.

I will not date or engage in sexual activity with others unless I have received permission from my Master first.

The safe word I have been given is for my protection, and I may use it at any time that I feel necessary without the fear of punishment.

I will never think of myself as weak for my decision to submit. It takes a lot of courage to be able to give myself over fully to the care and pleasure of someone else.

As I read through the list, Damien interrupted me, his eyes never leaving my questionnaire, How many men have you slept with since you and I have been together?

What? I asked, startled.

I know you were with that one guy, from the video. Were there others?

A blush crept across my cheeks. The video. I had almost forgotten about it. When I first started taking lessons with Damien, he told me he wouldn't sleep with me because I was a virgin, so I videotaped myself losing my virginity to one of my guy friends and sent it to him, partially out of spite. That seemed like ages ago.

No. There weren't any others, I replied finally, thinking about Chase and wondering what he was doing now. Part of me still felt bad for . . . using him? Was that what I had done? Used him as a sexual and emotional outlet.

It didn't matter anymore. That was in the past. I had made my choice, and Damien was my future. It was just him and I now.

Good. Then I shouldn't need for you to take an STD test. The way he said it was somewhat rude, but I tried to ignore it.

What about you? I asked, even though I knew it was probably a bad idea. The level of jealousy I felt when thinking of Damien Reed with other women was almost ridiculous. Even when women just looked at him, the green monster of jealousy would rear its ugly head. Hearing that he had slept with someone else could bomb my entire night.

Without even looking up at me, he simply muttered, No, putting my mind at ease.

I finished reading the list of rules, feeling a bit uneasy about the strictness of them. The worst part was that I knew the full list inside of the contract was a lot more restrictive. Nervousness and doubt welled up inside of me, consuming me and making me sweat. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all. I know Damien is a control freak, but this is a bit much. Am I cut out for obeying someone to this level? I don't really think so, but if I don't go through with this, I'll never have Damien Reed in the way I want him.

But this wasn't quite how I wanted him. Out of all the titles that Damien went by: Teacher, Professor, Master, Dominant. Boyfriend was not one of them. And if you heard it from his lips, it never would be.

I don't do relationships. Not in the traditional sense, he told me the last night we had been together. I don't date, but I do carry on relationships in other ways. If you would be interested in learning about BDSM, then I would be willing to take you on as my submissive. Collaring someone is as good as putting a wedding ring on their finger.

I wanted a ring though, not a collar. Not now, or anytime soon. Not until I finished college, to be sure. But eventually, I wanted a wedding ring—a traditional relationship.

I sighed audibly, drawing Damien's attention from my paperwork, which it looked like he was almost finished reading.

What's wrong? he asked, with his usual deadpan expression.

Nothing.

We haven't even started, and you're already failing.

Ouch. Which rule was that one? He had said I must respond immediately, but he didn't say my answer had to please him.

I don't understand, I said.

Don't understand what?

How I've failed.

He shifted the papers on his lap. You didn't answer me truthfully.

How do you know? My mind could have been blank.

You just read a very controversial document, one you're not accustomed to seeing, full of rules that might make you feel a little uncomfortable. You definitely were not thinking nothing.

Could he read me so well? Even so, the way he was treating me was starting to make me feel a bit angry. In truth, even though I had done my best to prepare myself for this, I was a little overwhelmed. The condescending tone he was taking with me wasn't helping.

I cleared my throat before speaking, You're right. Some of these things do make me uncomfortable.

Like?

Like the rule about me having to ask permission before entering a room. It seems a bit silly. What if I'm in a room that's nowhere near where you are? Will I have to shout for permission across the mansion? I couldn't hide the aggravation from my voice.

Damien smirked, which only made me scowl. First off, this is not a mansion. And second, it's not as difficult as you're making it out to be. You only need to request permission to enter a room that I am in. And like most learned skills, once you've done it a few dozen times, it will become second nature to you.

It just seems a bit excessive is all, I mumbled.

This is how things are done in the lifestyle. And to be honest, I'm far less strict than a lot of other Dominants. Some would make you ask permission for every little thing you do.

That would be annoying.

That's just how it is, what it means to submit.

I sighed, If we do this, just please keep in mind that this is not what I chose. It's what you've chosen for us. Just, please take it easy on me. This is going to take some getting used to.

He set my questionnaire down on the coffee table, then leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee, relaxing on the couch and focusing his attention on me. If this isn't what you truly want, then we shouldn't do it. I've told you time and time again the type of commitment this is going to take. You agreed to it, which made me assume you wanted it.

I want you, Damien. All I want is you. Why can't you just be happy for that?

I didn't know what to say that wasn't the truth, so I didn't say anything at all. My mind was constantly flipping between being excited about being his submissive and dreading it.

When I didn't respond, Damien continued, You really have nothing to fear from this. The first stage of the process is to give you my collar of consideration. During that time, we will be under trial with each other. If at any time you decided the lifestyle is not for you, then you can walk away.

Now I was confused.

So, I don't get this . . . wedding ring collar right away?

He laughed, No. There are different collars for different purposes. First, you'll get the collar of consideration. While under consideration, I will begin teaching you the basics, and as you learn, you'll get a better idea of whether or not this is what you really want. I will still punish you when you mess up, but I'll probably be fairly lenient about it. When the trial is up, we can both re-evaluate the relationship and decide if we want to proceed to the next step.

That didn't sound so bad. It reminded me of one of those infomercials where they allowed you to try a product for thirty days. Damien Reed wasn't a product though, and if I didn't accept this relationship, who knew what would happen between us.

What's the next step? I asked.

"Next, you would be given a training collar. During training, I would expect more from you, a full commitment to learn and implement all of my teachings.

After you completed training, you would be given your formal collar, or as you call it, the wedding ring collar. He smirked when he said it. It basically signifies that you have given yourself over to me completely, and that we are engaged in a very intimate committed relationship to one another. There's even a ceremony that goes with it to make it official.

I tried to imagine what that type of ceremony would be like. The only thing that came to mind was a wedding procession, except for instead of everyone being dressed in nice clothing, they would all be dressed in leather and fetish wear. And instead of a wedding ring being placed on my finger, Damien would put a collar around my neck. Everything else was the same though, which made for a pretty humorous image.

Damien continued, "There are two other types of collars, the collar of protection and the scene collar. The collar of protection is exactly what it sounds like. It basically places the submissive under the protection of the Dominant. Sometimes, Dominants use this as the first step in the process before the collar of consideration.

"A scene collar is one used for scene play. It's a temporary collar that grants a Dominant power over a submissive for a specified period of time, usually long enough to act out a scene. During that time, the submissive is bound to the rules of the Dominant. It's more prevalent between