Chapter 5: The Trainer Arrives
The walk to the dining room was a slow, humiliating procession. Every step sent a fresh jolt from the vibrator still buzzing relentlessly inside her, making Ariana’s thighs tremble. She clutched the designer handbag like a lifeline, its weight a grounding counterpoint to the dizzying sensations. Margot walked beside her, her posture unnaturally rigid, as if trying to physically contain the turmoil within. The grand dining room awaited, a vision of oppressive elegance. A single place setting of gleaming silver and fragile crystal sat at the head of the long, polished mahogany table. Two simpler settings, devoid of chairs, were positioned opposite him.
“Your places,” Silas said, taking his seat at the head of the table. He gestured to the empty space before the two settings on the other side. “You’ll be standing for dinner. It aids digestion.”
They moved to stand behind the designated spots, the thick Persian rug soft beneath their heels. The vibrator’s intensity seemed to magnify in the tense silence, a constant, maddening reminder of their predicament. A door hidden in the paneling to the side of the fireplace swung open silently.
A woman strode in, and the air in the room shifted. It was Natalie Portman. But this was not the red-carpet version. She was clad in intricate black lace lingerie that left little to the imagination, sheer thigh-high stockings, and lethally sharp stilettos that clicked decisively on the parquet floor. Her expression was one of cool, detached authority, her eyes scanning Ariana and Margot with clinical interest.
“Natalie will be overseeing your… comportment this evening,” Silas explained, picking up his soup spoon. A servant appeared from the shadows to place a bowl of consommé before him.
Natalie circled them like a panther. She stopped behind Ariana first. Her experienced fingers, cool and sure, traced the outline of Ariana’s thong through the thin fabric of her dress, directly over the source of the vibration. Ariana flinched, a sharp intake of breath hissing through her teeth.
“You’re tense,” Natalie murmured, her voice a low, hypnotic rasp close to Ariana’s ear. Her other hand slid around Ariana’s waist, palm flat against her lower belly, pulling her back flush against Natalie’s body. “You need to relax into it. Fight it, and you’ll just ache. Surrender, and you might even enjoy yourself.” Her fingers dipped lower, pressing firmly against the damp fabric. “You’ll learn to take cock like a good little slut. It’s all about acceptance.”
Ariana’s eyes squeezed shut. The dual sensation of the violation and the relentless vibration was unraveling her. Her professional detachment was a distant memory, burned away by raw, shameful need.
Natalie then moved to Margot, who stood rigid, staring at the wall as if in a trance. “And you,” Natalie said, running a fingernail down the length of Margot’s spine. Margot shuddered violently. “You look like you’re about to break. We can’t have that.” She placed both hands on Margot’s hips and pulled her back, arching her spine, forcing her to present herself. “Silas likes a show. So you will perform.”
Silas ate his soup, watching the scene unfold with a placid expression. “Natalie, why don’t you demonstrate the proper mindset for our guests?”
A cruel smile touched Natalie’s lips. “Of course.” She guided Margot to turn and face Ariana, then positioned herself behind Ariana again. “Watch her,” Natalie commanded Margot. “Learn.”
Natalie’s hands were everywhere on Ariana. She pushed the tiny dress up to Ariana’s waist, exposing her completely to the room. One hand cupped her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple through the fabric until Ariana cried out. The other hand slid between her legs from behind, two fingers slipping easily inside her soaked entrance.
“See how ready she is?” Natalie said to Margot, her fingers pumping in and out of Ariana with a wet, slick sound. “That’s what we want. No fake resistance. Just honest, filthy need.”
Ariana’s head fell back against Natalie’s shoulder, her body no longer her own. The orgasm that had been building since the foyer now crested, torn from her by Natalie’s skilled, merciless fingers. She came with a guttural scream, her body convulsing, her legs buckling. Natalie held her upright, fucking her through the climax until Ariana was just a trembling, oversensitive mess.
Silas put down his spoon. “Very good. Now, Margot. Your turn. On the table.”
Margot’s eyes were wide with terror. She looked from Silas’s impassive face to Natalie’s expectant one. With a sob she was trying to choke back, she climbed onto the polished mahogany, the surface cool against her bare skin. She lay back, her head nearly touching Silas’s place setting.
Natalie approached the table. “Open for me.”
When Margot hesitated, Natalie’s hand came down in a sharp smack on her inner thigh. The sound echoed in the quiet room. “Now.”
Margot’s legs fell open. Natalie climbed onto the table, straddling Margot’s face. “Clean me,” she ordered, lowering herself onto Margot’s mouth. “Get your pretty little tongue in there and taste what a real woman tastes like when she’s properly used.”
At the same time, Natalie reached down, her fingers finding Margot’s clit, circling it with the same ruthless efficiency she’d used on Ariana. Margot’s body jerked, a muffled cry escaping as her mouth was filled with the musky taste of Natalie’s arousal and the lingering evidence of Ariana’s.
Silas watched, his fork poised over his main course. He made a subtle adjustment to the remote in his pocket.
The vibrator inside Margot, which had been a constant torment, suddenly switched to a pattern of short, intense bursts. It was too much. The combination of the brutal stimulation, the humiliation, and the skilled, punishing fingers on her clit broke her. Her orgasm was a silent, screaming thing, her body seizing up, back arching violently off the table, her nails scratching grooves into the polished wood.
Natalie climbed off her, wiping her thigh with a detached air. Silas took a sip of wine.
“Adequate,” he said, his eyes glinting in the firelight. He looked at the two women, one still shuddering on the floor, the other gasping on his dinner table. “Now, perhaps we can enjoy the rest of our meal in something resembling peace. The night, as I said, is still very young.”