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The Training of Kate (Natasha Taylor)


The Training of Kate by Natasha Taylor

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Kate is beautiful, strong willed career woman in a fully paid up cruise trip to Bahamas. Little did she know that her independence is going to end soon, and she is going to be ravished against her will in a bout of frenzied lust and control. Gradually Kate finds herself reduced to a sex toy, dancing to the tunes of her handler...and her lover. How will this end?

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 2 / 2019

No. words: 84234

Style: Erotic Fetishes, Bondage/BDSM Fetishes

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

Prologue

I needed this. A seven-day cruise to the Bahamas was just what the doctor ordered. Sure, it was only a company bonus for meeting this year's sales goal, but I'll take it. I've always been a bit on the timid side, so sales was never my strong suit. But my recent promotion to head of A.R. allowed me to take part in the bonus cruise, as a formality. Yep, A.R. It pays the bills, but honestly is one of the most stressful and under-appreciated jobs one could have. Co-workers barely acknowledge me unless they have a problem. Luckily, on a huge cruise ship, I wouldn't have to associate with my co-workers much. I was ready to lay out on the sun deck and get a nice tan, after a thorough coat of sunscreen of course.
Ok, I'm a bit of a loner. I live alone, and usually sleep alone. I have a couple good friends, instead of a lot of so-so friends. I love curling up with a good book. I'm a sucker for romance novels. Not the lame ones with cheesy dialogue though. I appreciate quality and depth, and the heroine I can relate to. The proud heroine who does not allow herself to be vulnerable...until she meets that man. The man who breaks her, and makes her face her own hidden desires and perversities.
Of course I've never actually met that man. He is a fantasy. Only a fantasy.
I guess that is why I am still relatively inexperienced in practice. I secretly love the thought of being overpowered, and yet, I hate the thought of being vulnerable and alone. Yet, here I am, alone...stuck with my fantasies, wishing they were enough. The desires inside me so thick that I can't even look into a man's eyes.
When I look at a man, at least one whom I find attractive, I know that my eyes will tell him the truth. If a man knows what I am thinking, and understands what I truly want, he has no reason to hold back. He will hurt me, and I will no longer be Kate, the Good Girl. I will be Kate, the Slut. And while I secretly, desperately want that, I do not want that. I don't want to be left alone.


Chapter 1

I had spent the better part of an hour messing with my hair and makeup. I've never really worn much makeup, if any. But tonight, I wanted to look ravishing. I wanted to look confident and unattainable. I've heard that men don't like confident women. They like someone malleable that they can control. And if they do like confident women, they are usually the types who lack confidence themselves.
I have a decent body I think, curvy. I think my biggest asset is, you guessed it, my ass. It always embarrassed me when I was younger. Who wants a big butt? Apparently, a lot of people. I generally try to dress in a way that distracts from it, but tonight, what the hell? Who gives a fuck if someone looks at my ass? What are they going to do, molest me in the middle of cocktail hour? Nope. It would be nice for once to flaunt it. If I end up with a free drink, what's wrong with that? I would be back in a few hours, tops, after the congratulatory dinner with the sales team and higher-ups at Weisman Pharmaceuticals.
I was glad to have been granted an aft view suite on the ship. I hated the heavy foot traffic and late night noise, so this would be perfect. With a sigh, I grabbed my purse and quietly exited the cabin.
As I turned to leave, I found myself face to face with a man who appeared to be leaving his cabin at the same time. Suite or no suite, the entrances to each cabin were still pretty close to one another, and as I proceeded toward the elevator, I found myself glancing into the eyes of my apparent neighbor on the ship.
God he was handsome. Holy shit! Tall with broad shoulders, graying hair, probably late forties, with what looked like gray eyes from the split second I actually looked. Whew!
He caught my glance as well, with a brief nod of acknowledgement. As he passed by, I was invigorated by the scent of his aftershave. I don't know much about men's fragrances, or ladies fragrances for that matter, but it smacked me in the nostrils and I had to take a moment to gather my thoughts.
Once I shook myself out of it, I realized that I was headed in the wrong direction. Geez! I turned around and headed towards the elevator. I saw him waiting, and slowed my pace. Maybe I could catch the next one up. I took my time getting to the elevator, but he was still waiting for it when I got there. God, this elevator was slow! I guess with so many floors, and at cocktail hour, it was understandable. But this was just my luck. Now I would be stuck with him all the way up! I hated those awkward situations...the awkward silence.
I knew he was aware of me. I knew he felt my eyes on the back of his head—possibly calculating his move for when we were finally alone together in the elevator for the long, apparently very slow ride up. Or maybe it was just my perverse imagination. Probably. With a soft >Ding< the doors finally parted.
My neighbor entered the elevator, and gave a small smile as he held the door for me. I awkwardly mumbled a "thank you" and followed. Naturally, I parked myself in the far corner of the elevator and lowered my eyes.
Why did I feel like such an idiot? I had done nothing wrong, but in those brief moments when I looked into his eyes, and he into mine, I had instantly lost the confidence I thought I had. Why did I have to wear this dress? Here we were, alone together at the mercy of this ridiculous elevator, and I just wanted to crawl inside myself.
As we slowly began our ascent to the Lido deck (of course he would be going to the same floor), I felt myself growing wet between my legs. What the fuck was wrong with me? I could still smell his aftershave, or cologne, or whatever. >Ding< The doors parted, and he (thank God) exited ahead of me. I followed, as he was apparently going to the same bar—perhaps to meet someone? He disappeared into the crowd, and for a moment I was disappointed. God, get a grip! I shook it off, and headed straight for the counter to get a drink.
"I'll have a Mai Tai," I told the bartender.
"Yes Ma'am!" he replied.
Yes, ma'am? Perfect. I'm only 28 years old. He handed me my drink with a smile and moved on to the other customers. I honestly had never been a big drinker, even in college. The Mai Tai was one of the sweeter drinks that I could tolerate in social settings—not that I've had many of those.
Taking a sip, I crinkled my nose. It was way too strong for me. Oh well. Maybe it will help me loosen up a bit for Christ's sake. I slowly turned to survey the crowd. I didn't see any of my co-workers, and I didn't see my neighbor. He had to be meeting someone. Why the fuck did I care? I had come here tonight to flaunt it, and for some reason, I just wanted it to be over.
"Another, please" I called to the bartender, after I tossed back the rest of my drink.
"It's on me," said a male voice to my left.
I looked over, and saw a man in a dark suit, with dark hair and eyes—probably early 30's.
"I'm Scott," the man said.
He was cute.
"Thank you. I'm Kate."
We made small talk for like twenty minutes, and he attempted to invite me to dinner.
"Thank you, but I'm meeting some co-workers. Formal dinner."
I smiled at him weakly. For some reason, he just didn't excite me. He was handsome, to be sure, but something was missing. At least I had an out, so I didn't have to lie to him. I was being a prick-tease, and I knew it, but it really isn't in my nature to mislead people. I thought I could get out there and flaunt it, have fun with it, but apparently not.
"No worries, perhaps I'll see you around?" said Scott casually.
He knew it was a rejection, but was polite about it.
"Perhaps you will," I replied.
Why not? Might be the only offer I get on this damned cruise, not that that's why I was there. I was here for some R&R. Wasn't I?
I politely excused myself and headed for the "Starlight" ballroom. As I entered, I felt exposed and quite honestly, a little slutty. The dress I'd worn was cut short, but on the scale of sluttiness, I felt it was on the mild side...at least I had felt that way in the safety of my suite. It's not like I was the only one here in a short dress-far from it. But I still felt nervous and exposed. I never dressed like this. Short dress with sheer stockings and higher than average heels. I could tell that many people didn't recognize me. A couple men I had passed a few times in the hall at work actually looked at me with a hungry look in their eyes. I felt the wetness grow between my legs, but as always, I found myself staring at the carpet.
"Wow, Kate! Look at you!"
It was Michael. He is the one person I actually feel comfortable around at work-hilarious, friendly, and gay as can be. All the women I work with are so snobby and fake. I guess the fake part can help when you're in sales.
"Sweetie, you are stunning! Where the hell have you been hiding?"
I blushed and grinned.
"Thanks Mike, it's great to see you. I know the dress is a bit much. Just trying to step out of my comfort zone a bit. Why not, right?"
"Totally! Geez I'm hungry. I hope they get past the bullshit so we can eat already," he said, rubbing his belly.
I laughed, and was thankful we were at the same table. It wouldn't be an entirely miserable evening.
The CEO took the podium and started his speech. "Thank you everyone for coming tonight. It has been a great year..."


Chapter 2

By the end of the evening, I was all smiles. Michael and I had a nightcap at the bar, and just chatted. We gossiped about our co-workers, he gave me the latest on his new relationship, and I even mentioned my mystery neighbor.
"Whew!" cried Michael. "He sounds like a hunk. Are you going to talk to him?"
I blushed and rolled my eyes.
"Michael, I'm not that kind of girl."
"What kind of girl?" he asked.
The considerable amount of alcohol I'd consumed this evening was getting to me. I was opening up to Michael, despite being as red as a tomato, or so it seemed. He was just so easy to talk to, and seemed to genuinely care. I loved that about him.
"The kind that...talks...to men," I stammered.
"I'm a man," he said, leaning in close, his voice dripping with innuendo.
We could not contain ourselves. We laughed until we lost our breath. I felt so much more relaxed.
"I just mean...I'm not a whore...I'm not a slut."
"Of course you're not sweetie," Michael said gently. "All we are talking about is Hello. That does not make you a slut, and anyone who says otherwise can answer to me."
That got me choked up. He was so sweet. And he was right. What the hell was I ashamed of? What was I hiding from?
"Thanks Michael." I smiled, grateful for his friendship. We really needed to hang out more. "Gosh, it's late," I said, after glancing at my phone. "Thanks so much for being there for me. Let's have coffee tomorrow or something."
Michael grinned, "Totally!"
***
As I hobbled to the elevator in my higher-than-average heels, I thought, "I can't drink like that, ever again."
I had to pee, and the elevator was taking its sweet time again. >Ding< The doors parted. I froze, face to face once again with my mystery neighbor.
"Dammit," I thought.
Our gazes locked, and I was breathless once more. He took the liberty of stepping forward to hold the door, again, since I'd been standing there like an idiot for more than a few seconds.
I entered the elevator and immediately turned towards the control panel, determined not to make any more eye contact with this man. His eyes were gentle, but there was something unsettling about him that I could not put my finger on.
"Oh shoot!" I thought, "He's probably staring at my big ass."
Secretly, I actually hoped he was looking. I don't know why. I just wanted him to desire me. I was obviously going all stupid over him, and we'd shared but two elevator rides, in silence.
The first elevator ride was intense, but this one was worse. I was no doubt being judged this time, on display before him in this slutty little black dress. And the thought made me wet. I can't always feel it when I'm getting wet, but I sure as hell could feel it now.
I must have been holding my breath, because I started to feel faint and dizzy. And the damned fuck-me heels were not forgiving. He must have seen me falling, because I suddenly felt strong, warm, manly arms around me.
His hands roamed over me. I could smell him again, and was putty in his hands. He could have taken me right there. I needed to regain my composure, but I had had way too much to drink, and after a softly muttered, "Hello" darkness overcame me.


Author Information

Natasha Taylor is a prolific erotica author living in America. She loves Stanley Kubrick and Roman Polanski movies and tries to incorporate their dark erotic style in her writings.

 

Publisher Information

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