Page 48 of Punished and Trained
“Miss Trellama,” Mistress Nurana’s attention shifted to the red-haired woman, “your master has requested sensitivity trainingfor disciplinary purposes. You’ll be using adjustable clamps on your nipples while bringing yourself to climax repeatedly.”
Trellama’s hands moved instinctively to protect her breasts, but she caught herself and forced them back to her sides. The station she was directed to featured a pair of small metallic clamps, fastened to each other by a silver chain, their jaws gleaming under the gymnasium’s bright lights.
“Miss Lara and Miss Palla, your masters desire exceptional oral proficiency. You’ll be training with the throat-conditioning apparatus while maintaining arousal levels.”
My eyes followed their reluctant progress toward a station dominated by mechanical devices that looked disturbingly clinical. The machines featured adjustable arms topped with realistic phalluses, their apparatuses clearly designed to produce rhythmic thrusting when activated.
Finally, Mistress Nurana’s clinical gaze settled on me, and I felt my breath catch as I awaited whatever degrading specialization Prince Hendren had requested for my training.
“Miss Viola,” she said, consulting her handheld with the same detached professionalism, “His Royal Highness has very specific requirements for your internal muscular development. You’ll be working with a pressure measurement device to control and strengthen your vaginal contractions, so that you can grip a man’s penis on his command.”
CHAPTER 23
Viola
My cheeks burned as Mistress Nurana gestured toward the final station, where a sleek apparatus waited that looked dismayingly medical in its precision. The central component was unmistakably phallic, but its surface was covered with sensors and measurement devices that gleamed under the harsh gymnasium lighting.
“Your master desires you to be able to pleasure his manhood with an exceptionally tight cunny,” Mistress Nurana continued with matter-of-fact brutality. “The device will measure the pressure of your internal contractions while you maintain arousal. You’ll practice bearing down rhythmically until you can achieve the specific measurements he’s requested.”
The crude explanation sent mortifying heat flooding through my entire body. To have my most intimate responses quantified and analyzed, to have my master’s desires for my body discussed so clinically while I knelt naked before my classmates, felt like a new depth of degradation.
“Crawl to your station and assume position three,” Mistress Nurana commanded, her voice cutting through my stunned paralysis. “All of you. Your individual training begins now.”
On trembling hands and knees, I made my way across the mat-covered floor toward the apparatus that would measure my intimate compliance. The cool air of the gymnasium raised goosebumps across my exposed skin as I settled back onto my heels before the intimidating device.
Mistress Nurana began to move around the gym, first instructing Morandra and Reb in how to begin their terrible ordeal with the anal plugs. I listened to the humiliating words, my eyes traveling over the device that would provide my own mortifying lesson.
“Miss Morandra, Miss Reb,” Mistress Nurana told them, “you will assist each other with your training. Morandra, you will begin. You will prepare Reb and insert the first plug, then she will return the favor. Use the lubricant provided and work slowly—your masters expect you to learn proper technique.”
My stomach clenched as I watched Morandra’s face crumple with mortification. The scholarly woman’s hands trembled as she reached for the smallest plug and the bottle of clear liquid beside it, her academic composure completely shattered by the degrading task.
“All pupils have explicit permission to stimulate yourselves during this training,” Mistress Nurana announced to the gymnasium at large. “Your arousal is necessary for proper conditioning. However, you may not reach climax without my direct permission. Begin immediately.”
The words sent a bolt of shameful heat through my core even as I turned my attention to the measuring device before me. The artificial phallus was substantial, but not impossibly large, its sensor-covered surface obviously designed to register every intimate detail of my body’s responses. A digital display on the end of the shaft showed readings that meant nothing to me yet, but I knew they would soon document my most private reactions.
Behind me, I heard Reb’s sharp intake of breath followed by a whimpered “Oh, no… please… Morandra, I—” that cut off in a strangled cry as the first plug breached her tender opening. The sound sent unwelcome sympathy and arousal warring in my chest.
“Breathe deeply, Miss Reb,” Mistress Nurana instructed calmly. “Accept what your body must receive. Miss Morandra, continue with steady pressure.”
I forced myself to focus again on my own apparatus, running my fingers along its smooth surface as I tried to understand how it would measure my compliance. The sensors felt slightly warm, and I wondered how they would feel, inside me.
“Excellent, Miss Reb. Now you must prepare Miss Morandra with the same care she showed you.”
Mistress Nurana had moved to Trellama’s station, her voice carrying clearly as she explained the nipple clamps. As she spoke, she began to fit the clamps on the Draconian pupil’s breasts. “I will adjust the tension as you progress, Miss Trellama. As you excite yourself more urgently, I will release them, and then replace them with a tighter grip. You must learn to remain submissive and, eventually, to express your gratitude that your master enjoys training you this way.”
Trellama’s anguished cry echoed through the space as the devices closed on her sensitive peaks, the sound making me flinch in sympathetic distress.
“Play with that little cunny, now,” Mistress Nurana said, her voice soothing. “Make it better. Yes, you’re already wet, aren’t you, you naughty girl? That’s it.”
Trellama’s breathing became rapid and shallow as she began the mortifying task of pleasuring herself while the clamps reinforced her body’s helpless responses. My mind began to drift as the sounds of my classmates’ degradation increasingly filled the air around me. Prince Hendren’s words from the previous night haunted my thoughts—his warning about the need for more severe, more public demonstration of my submission.
The measuring device before me seemed to pulse with its own malevolent purpose as I contemplated what was to come. My master’s requirements for public punishment would surely involve more than just this clinical training—he would need me to demonstrate perfect submission under the most humiliating circumstances imaginable.
A soft mechanical hum drew my attention back to the present as Mistress Nurana activated the throat-conditioning apparatus at Lara and Palla’s station. The rhythmic sound was soon joined by muffled gasps and choking noises as the devices began their relentless work.
“Remember to breathe through your nose, ladies,” Mistress Nurana instructed with clinical detachment. “Your masters expect you to accommodate their full length without excessive distress. This training will condition your reflexes properly. And I want to see your hands between your legs, teaching yourselves to enjoy it.”
I watched in horrified fascination as my fellow students struggled with their mechanical violators, their faces flushed with shame and unwelcome arousal. The sight of their degradation sent the usual treacherous heat shooting through my own core, my body responding in that familiar, but always mortifying way.
