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Subject: {ASSM} Training Carrie - Chapter 106 (1/1)
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                             Training Carrie
                               Chapter 106
    
    As William and I walked out to the truck, he put his arm around my
shoulder. "I know you're hurting now. But believe me, it's going to be Ok.
We're going to get you into counseling, just as soon as Carrie finds the
best therapist for you. We both love you, and we'll always be here for you.
You're not alone."

    I thanked him, I didn't know what else to say. I believed every word he
said, yet I had never felt more alone in my life. When we got into the
truck, I turned my face to the side window and began crying softly. I was
still crying when we got home.

    Carrie actually stayed with Helen until Tuesday morning, when William
drove back into town to get her. William and Carrie talked on the phone
eight to ten times a day while she was in town, and from the little bit of
conversation I heard, there was a problem with Helen's job. William didn't
want to tell me, but finally he said that Helen had been fired when she
called in sick Saturday morning. As I learned later from Carrie, Helen had
protested strongly against working that Saturday, claiming that she had
made very important plans for the weekend. So, when she called in sick
Saturday morning, her manager told her to come to work or she would be
fired. Since her eye was swollen shut and she was in considerable pain, she
really wasn't able to work.

    Carrie immediately called her lawyer, Mr. Bishop. He told her to take
Helen to a hospital emergency room, and have her examined thoroughly. He
said the medical records would provide documentation that she was unable to
work. On Monday, a lawyer showed up at Helen's apartment, sent by Mr.
Bishop. After he talked with Helen and Carrie for a few hours, they all
went to the store where Helen worked, and marched into the manager's
office. The lawyer had a list of a dozen violations of state and federal
law, in addition to a long list of civil claims, with case law citations
back to the thirties. The lawyer basically threatened the store manager, as
well as the owner, with several years of court battles, and promised her
that she would lose. Within an hour, Helen had her job back, plus two weeks
paid sick leave. Carrie described the guy as a pit bull in a lawyer suit.

    While that was going on in town, William and I were alone at the house.
Except for making me take a walk with him every day, he let me do whatever
I wanted, which was mainly to mope around the house. But I always knew he
was there, he never really left me alone. If I went into the bedroom to
take a nap, he'd be sitting in a chair beside the bed when I woke up. If I
wandered into the living room and sat on the couch, he'd soon come in and
ask me if I wanted anything to eat or drink, or sit down next to me and ask
if I wanted to talk. He wouldn't let me sleep alone, but he actually wore
pajama bottoms to bed, the first and only time that ever happened. We
didn't have sex the whole time Carrie was in town, for which I was
grateful. It was his right, anything he wanted was his right, but he was
only concerned about what was best for me.

    When I first heard that I had gotten Helen fired, I asked William to
take me downstairs to the punishment area and whip me. He gave me a sad
look. "That will never happen," he said. "Is that what you think you
deserve?"

    I said, "What I deserve is to have the hand I hit her with cut off." He
took me in his arms and held me for a long time.

    "It wasn't your fault, you couldn't help what happened," William said.
"Carrie and I should have insisted, we should have gotten you the help you
need. If anyone's to blame, it's us, not you." But I knew it was me, only
me that was to blame.

    A few minutes after William left to get Carrie, Uncle Phil came in the
front door. He hadn't been around since I came back home, because he and
Bev were in the process of leaving us, returning to the lives they had
interrupted to come and protect Carrie. I knew Uncle Phil had come to keep
an eye on me until William and Carrie got back, I was just grateful that he
hadn't brought Bev with him. He took me in his arms and gave me a long hug.
"I'm so sorry, Charlene," he said.

    Uncle Phil and I went into the living room and sat together on the
couch, and he told me all about his and Bev's plans. He said that Carrie
had insisted on giving them a trip around the world. Carrie had also bought
back their house, the retirement home that they had sold below market value
before they moved to New Mexico to watch over Carrie. We talked for a long
time, then I started feeling sleepy. In the weeks after I left Helen, it
seemed like I was always tired and sleepy. Later I realized those were
symptoms of depression. Anyway, I wound up asleep on the couch, my head
resting on Uncle Phil's shoulder, and that's how William and Carrie found
us when they returned.

    "How's Helen?" I asked Carrie, after we had hugged silently for a long
time.

    Carrie said, "She'll be Ok. No fractures, and no damage to her eye or
ear. She wants you back, that's her biggest problem right now. Char, she
loves you, and she's miserable without you. Please think about giving it
another try. At least go and talk to her."

    "You know I can't," I said. "As long as I have this rage inside me, I
can't trust myself to be alone with her. Do you and William want to spend
the rest of your lives chaperoning us, to keep me from hurting her if I
lose control again?"

    "If that's what you need us to do, that's what we'll do," William said.

    I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly, knowing beyond a
doubt that he meant exactly what he said. "What I need is help," I said, "a
therapist, an exorcist, a witch doctor, I don't know which. I have to let
go of the anger and hatred I feel for Arthur, it's making me crazy."

    Carrie smiled. "I have a list of names, but I don't think there are any
exorcists or witch doctors on it. Helen called everyone she knows, and she
made this list of the best therapists in Albuquerque." She showed me a list
with five names and phone numbers.

    I helped Carrie prepare lunch, the first thing I had done since I came
home, other than moping around. After lunch, we went to the office and
began calling the therapists. The first two on the list weren't taking any
new patients. The third one, the only woman on the list, said she could
schedule me for an interview the following Tuesday, so we made an
appointment.

    A little later, we were all sitting on the couch and talking, when
William and Carrie started making out. They hadn't seen each other in days,
the longest they had been apart since William came to the house, so it was
understandable that they wanted to fuck. After they had undressed one
another and messed around awhile, they got off the couch and headed for the
bedroom. They asked me to come with them, but I said I'd be Ok by myself,
so they both kissed me and told me they loved me, then they left hand in
hand. I sat on the couch for a long time, not doing anything or thinking
about anything, then I got up and went to the bedroom, where William and
Carrie were fucking on the bed. They both noticed me when I entered the
room, but they didn't say anything. I stood and watched them for awhile,
then I began undressing. When I was naked, Carrie held out her hand to me,
I took her hand and climbed onto the bed, and they immediately incorporated
me into their lovemaking.

    I tried my best to shut off my brain, so I wouldn't think about Helen,
and just enjoy the physical sensations of sex. I have to admit that it felt
good to be fucking again, and I think it helped my mental outlook. That
marked the end of my withdrawal from William and Carrie. I was still sad
and depressed for a long time after that, but I didn't let it stop me from
living my life, such as my life was without Helen.

    We stayed in the bedroom until late in the afternoon, alternately
fucking, cuddling, and resting. It was comforting to be back in familiar
patterns. We worked together to make dinner, then went back to the bedroom
for another round of fucking. We were laying side by side on the bed,
taking a rest, when Carrie asked William to give her a spanking. As she
rolled off of the bed and positioned her chair in front of the mirror, I
told william I would do the spanking, but he refused, saying my spanking
days were over.

    "Please let me do it," I said. "Spanking Carrie has nothing to do with
my anger problem, I'm never angry when I spank her. It makes me feel like
I'm part of your lives, giving Carrie something she needs. I want to do
it." They both hugged me, and told me I would always be part of their
lives. Then Carrie bent over the chair back and grasped the front edge of
the seat with her hands. I looked at William, and he nodded for me to begin
the spanking.

    Over the next few days, our lives together returned to what they had
been before. The only differences for me were inside my head: the guilt,
sorrow, and pain I felt over what I had done and what I had lost. But I did
my best to keep all of that to myself and not inflict it on Carrie or
William. Friday morning, as Carrie and I were cleaning up the breakfast
dishes, she took my hands in hers and told me that she and William needed
to go into town and check on Helen. She begged me to come with them, and to
at least talk to Helen. I refused, so they left me alone while they drove
into town. While they were gone, I took a solitary hike up to the picnic
hill, leaving a note behind in case Uncle Phil came by to look in on me. It
was warm, so I stayed up on the hill most of the day, lying naked in the
sun. When I returned, William and Carrie were back from town, and they had
brought all of the clothes I took with me when I moved in with Helen.
Carrie tried to talk to me about Helen, but after she said the swelling was
almost gone from Helen's face, I told her that was all I wanted to know.

    Starting the following week, we all drove into town three days a week.
William and Carrie sat in the waiting room while I spent an hour talking to
the therapist, whose name was Barbara. I take it back, Carrie and William
were with me for part of my initial interview, but then Barbara asked them
to leave us alone, and all of my sessions after that were alone with
Barbara. Mostly, she listened while I told her the story of my life. She
listened attentively, often asking probing questions. When I started
talking about my slave training and captivity, she seemed skeptical that
what I was describing had actually happened to me. So I stood up, turned my
back to her, and pulled my sweater off, showing her my scarred back. That
really shook her up, she ended that session early, but by the next session
she seemed to have recovered.

    It took four weeks, three sessions a week, for me to tell my story to
Barbara. When I finished, with the horrible thing I had done to Helen and
its aftermath, she looked at me silently for a long moment and then told me
that the first step in my healing was to leave the unhealthy environment I
was in. She was talking about Carrie and William.

    I couldn't believe my ears, I asked her to repeat what she said. Then I
pointed out what had happened when I tried to leave that environment, I had
caused harm to someone I loved. "I can help you learn to control your
anger," Barbara said, "but you have to get away from your sister and her
friend, their lifestyle is aggravating your problems."

    I looked at her for a long time, then I went to the door, opened it,
and asked William and Carrie to come in. I told Barbara to tell them what
she had told me, and she at least had the balls to repeat to their faces
what she had said to me in private. When she finished, William said, "We'll
do whatever it takes to help you, Char. What do you want to do?"

    "I want to go home," I said.

    Carrie said, "I thought the idea was for the patient to learn to
understand her problem, and arrive at her own solutions." I could tell she
was pissed off, but she was trying not to show it.

    "Ideally, that would be true," Barbara said calmly, "but sometimes it's
necessary to intervene, or to give the patient guidance."

    "Your guidance sucks, you wasted a month of my life," I said.

    "We won't be back, send us your final bill," Carrie said, as we walked
out of the office.

    We had gotten into the habit of doing a little shopping, going to a
restaurant, or taking in a movie after my therapy session, but after that
final session we just drove home in silence. Finally, Carrie said, "We'll
keep trying, we'll find another therapist."

    "I can't go through that again," I said. "I don't want another
therapist." Carrie took my hand, and said maybe we could try again in a few
months. I smiled at her and nodded my head, but in my mind I was finished
with therapy.

    That evening, while Carrie was preparing dinner, William and I sat
together on the couch. He took my hand and said, "Maybe Barbara was right,
maybe you'd be better off away from us."

    "No, this is where I belong," I said. That was the last that was ever
said about Barbara's advice.

    Two days later, while I was on the toilet, Carrie came into the
bathroom and knelt in front of me, taking my hands in hers. She was
grinning ear to ear. "What?" I asked.

    "We're going to Disney World," she said.

    It took us two days on the Internet to plan the trip. William left it
up to Carrie and I, and of course Carrie wanted to see everything and do
everything. We scheduled four days at Disney World, but there were plenty
of other things to see around central Florida. We planned stops at Busch
Gardens, Universal Orlando, Sea World, the Kennedy Space Center, Lion
Country Safari, Cypress Gardens, and a few other, less famous places.
Carrie planned everything in detail, which nights at which hotels, rental
cars, tickets, the whole works. Almost three weeks.

    We had to wait nearly two weeks to start our trip. Uncle Phil and Bev
were moving out, and we wanted to help them pack and see them on their way.
Their final day with us was sad, we all felt badly about Uncle Phil
leaving, and Carrie felt the same about losing Bev. Carrie didn't actually
want to be around Bev all that much, which William and I could certainly
understand, but she liked knowing that Bev was there, and she would miss
her.

    The day after Uncle Phil and Bev left, we all piled into the SUV, drove
to the airport, and caught a flight to Orlando. Although Carrie was as
excited as a kid with a new toy, I knew the trip was mostly for my benefit,
and I was determined to have a good time, or at least to act like I was
having a good time. As it turned out, I did have a pretty good time. Helen
was always in the back of my mind, but I managed to enjoy myself anyway.
Actually, I'm not sure anyone could have made that trip with Carrie and not
have at least a little fun, her enthusiasm was so contagious. At Disney
World for example, Carrie tried to take me on every ride, even the ones
designed for little kids. Some of those they wouldn't allow adults on, but
we did every ride we could.

    That trip was the beginning of the end of our old lifestyle, although
Carrie and I didn't realize it until later. As we were driving to the
Albuquerque airport, William told us we should call him Bill until we
returned home, and we both knew what that meant. "For three whole weeks?"
Carrie asked. Bill just nodded his head. He did relent once during the trip
though. A few days before we were due to return home, in my hotel suite, he
turned the TV on loud, stripped Carrie and bent her over a chair, and then
gave her a long, hard spanking that left her crying for nearly an hour. He
did that because he knew she needed it, he could always tell when she had
been too long without pain.

    Although the trip was wonderful, we were all tired, and it was a relief
to see the house again. But, as William parked the truck and turned off the
engine, he told us that we were under formal speech rules. As soon as we
were inside the house, he made us strip, then told us to bring in the
suitcases, unpack everything, then meet him in the mural room in half an
hour. That was barely enough time to unpack, working as fast as we could,
so we only got to the mural room about thirty seconds before William walked
in. He was carrying a half-filled glass of wine, which I'm sure was as
annoying to Carrie as it was to me. He didn't offer us any wine.

    William proceeded to put on our bondage gear and lead us downstairs. He
fastened us to the bars, side-by-side, making me think he was going to flog
us again. But instead, he left us and went back upstairs - for eight hours.
After it became apparent that we were going to be left there, Carrie and I
again managed to twist our wrists enough that we could hold hands, causing
us to smile at one another in the mirror. We held hands like that the whole
time we were bent over the bars. A few times, we managed to move our heads
close enough to share a tender kiss, but it was too much of a strain to
hold that position for long.

    William finally came back and freed us, then took us back to the mural
room and removed our bondage gear. He said we were still under formal
speech rules, and told us to go to the kitchen and eat our dinner. He had
made dinner for the three of us, hours earlier, and our plates of cold food
were waiting for us on the kitchen counter. We ate standing up, and in case
it wasn't unpleasant enough, we both needed to pee badly after being tied
in the basement for eight hours.

    After we had eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, William took us to the
bathroom and let us attend one another on the toilet, then he watched us
while we showered. He wouldn't let us fool around in the shower, just soap,
rinse, and dry. After I had dried Carrie, William fetched her wrist and
ankle manacles from the mural room, then we all went to the guest bedroom,
where he put Carrie to bed, tying her with her wrists above her head. He
looped the rope under the bed and tied her wrists to her ankles. Even after
all that he had done to us since we came into the house, Carrie attacked
him passionately with her mouth when he leaned over to kiss her goodnight.
When William finally broke the kiss and straightened up, I could see that
Carrie was dying for a fuck, but all William did was throw a blanket over
her and turn out the lights as we left her room. I heard her moan as he
closed the door.

    When William and I were in bed in the master bedroom, he put me under
informal speech. "Why are you treating us like this?" I immediately asked.

    He kissed me, then said, "You haven't done anything wrong, even though
it seems like I'm punishing you. I could explain what I'm doing, but then
I'd have to order you not to share it with Carrie. I don't want you and
Carrie to have secrets, but if you really want to know, I'll tell you."

    I thought about it for a few seconds. "That's Ok," I said, "I don't
want to have secrets from Carrie either." He kissed me again, then he asked
if he could butt fuck me. "You know you don't have to ask," I said.

    He smiled at me. "But I am asking," he said. I kissed him and got to my
knees, but he wanted me lying on top of him, on my back. He fucked my ass
for a long time, while using his wonderful hands on my breasts and pussy.
He gave me several orgasms before he finally came.

    The next morning, William helped me into the strap-on harness, then he
and I went to the guest bedroom. For about an hour, we took turns fucking
Carrie missionary style while she was still tied in bed, and I lost track
of how many times she came. Finally, after William had untied her and
removed her manacles, he told her she was on informal speech. Like me, the
first thing she asked was why he was treating us this way. "Do you dispute
my right to treat you or Char any way I choose?" he asked her.

    With her eyes lowered, Carrie whispered, "No, Sir." Neither she nor I
ever questioned him again about how he treated us, or why. I did complain
about it from time to time, but it didn't do any good.

    Over the next days and weeks, Carrie's and my life with William changed
from the life we had known before. We still did all of the things we had
always done, but we lost our freedom, and it wasn't fun any more. We went
from being slaves in name only, to being slaves in fact. We had a kind,
loving Master, but we were never allowed to forget what we were.

    We went back to the solo night schedule, except that the night Carrie
and I would have slept together without William was deleted from the
schedule. Instead, there were two nights a week that William and Carrie
were together, two nights that William and I were together, and three
nights that we all slept together. When Carrie or I were due to sleep alone
in the guest bedroom, we would be manacled and tied, just as Carrie had
been our first night home from Florida. That didn't seem to bother Carrie
all that much, but I hated it. It took me forever to get to sleep like
that, and every time I would try to change positions in my sleep, tugging
on the ropes would wake me up. I never got used to it, but my complaints to
William fell on deaf ears.

    Other changes. William insisted that he always be present whenever
Carrie and I had sex. For most of every day, one or both of us would be
under formal speech. It was a lot worse for me when Carrie was under formal
speech and I wasn't, because I wanted to talk to her but she couldn't
answer me. Conversation was reduced to a series of Yes/No questions, with
her either nodding or shaking her head as her part of the conversation.
Very annoying. Also, we were naked all the time, and the sitting rules were
fully enforced. That meant we never sat, we were always either kneeling or
standing. We still went for daily walks, but most of the time they were
short walks. It was early spring, and still quite cool even in the sun, but
William usually made us go outside naked except for shoes. So, rather than
enjoying our time outdoors, we were always glad to get back in the house
where it was warm.

    During all of this, the only familiar routine was our daily exercise.
William would always be present during our exercise, but he stayed out of
the way and watched us silently. Whoever was working out on the elliptical
trainer would talk continuously to her partner, saying whatever came to
mind. Both of us looked forward to that, with all of the new restrictions
it had become our best method of exchanging our thoughts, even though you
couldn't really call it a conversation.

    We lived like that for about three weeks, and it was pretty unpleasant
compared to our lives before. Of course, it was a walk in the park compared
to my captivity with Arthur, but things could have been a lot better. After
those three weeks, William announced one day that we were taking another
trip, this time to New York City. He again gave Carrie and I the job of
planning the trip. All he told us was that it should last two to three
weeks. Carrie was under formal speech when he told us, so I asked if she
could be placed under informal speech while we were making the plans. He
just said No, then left us to our task.

    While we were on the computer, struggling to plan the trip without
being able to talk to one another, William came into the office. He asked
Carrie if her lawyer was in New York City. After she formally answered that
Mr. Bishop's office was indeed in New York City, William told her to tell
the lawyer we needed passports for all three of us. As he was leaving the
room, William turned back and told Carrie she could switch to informal
speech, but just while she was talking to Mr. Bishop. She nodded, then
flipped him the bird as he was walking away. I couldn't help giggling,
causing Carrie to give me a smile and a kiss. Unlike me, Carrie had never
showed any resistance to William's increasing demands, so her outburst was
very unusual, but totally appropriate.

    Just like when we went to Florida, William told us to call him Bill as
soon as we left home for the airport. It was like an oppressive weight was
lifted from my shoulders, and I think Carrie felt the same way. By the time
we got on the plane for NYC, we were both feeling giddy and acting silly,
and Bill was obviously enjoying us in that state. He had a big grin on his
face every time I looked at him.

    Using the strategy Carrie developed for our first trip into
Albuquerque, we always reserved two adjacent suites at every hotel we
stayed in. Presenting ourselves as a married couple and the wife's sister,
obscuring the true nature of our relationship, was a lot easier and safer
than trying to be open about it. After checking in and unpacking, we went
out to dinner, and then returned to our suites. Bill said it was better to
take it easy our first night, while we adjusted to the time change, so we
sat around for about an hour, sipping wine and talking about the next day's
activities. Finally, Bill said he was getting sleepy, and he wanted to
sleep alone in the other suite. As soon as he left, Carrie and I grinned at
one another, quickly got out of our clothes, and then jumped into bed
together. "Oh my God, I'd almost forgotten how sweet it is to be alone with
you," Carrie said a few minutes later, her hand half way into my pussy.

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