Training the Trophy Pt. 02

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Part 2, Training the Trophy: The Interview.

Preface: In part 1 of “Training the Trophy”, I explore the common erotic theme of the “Rich man possesses poor girl as sexual servant”. While it is an overdone theme, it’s also stood the test of time. In Part 2, we continue this theme of servitude and bondage. If this theme isn’t of interest to you, I invite you to enjoy the many, many other fine writers and their stories on this excellent website. This series is my first attempt at this genre’. I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the “kept woman/sexual servant wife” theme, and I appreciate your comments.

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“I am looking for a wife who will perform any and all sex acts with proficiency and enthusiasm at my command. This includes sharing and group sex, bondage, exhibitionism, oral, vaginal and anal sex along with other activities such as performing and appearing in pornographic videos and photographs for public distribution. In return for this arrangement, my wife will live in opulence and receive a generous stipend, along with other material benefits. After a systematic and exhaustive search for the best candidate to be my obedient, entirely promiscuous wife, you are my choice young lady.”

This is what I would tell her tonight at dinner. In addition to a sumptuous dinner in a beautiful restaurant, this would be the offer on the table. It took some time, but the young girl I had found and selected agreed to my dinner invitation.

Knowing that we act how we dress, I had provided her wardrobe for the night: a simple but elegant, snug-fitting black dress with a low neckline, a Frederick’s of Hollywood Exxtreme Cleavage add-2 cup size push-up bra in black satin, a very small, sheer, black G-string panty, nude stay-up thigh-highs and delicate black, strappy, open-toe heels. There was also an elegant pearl necklace and earrings in the ensemble I provided to her. It was a simple outfit, but one that highly sexualized her in an elegant way. To complete her outfit, I included a crystal vial of Yves Saint Laurent Black Opium perfume, because no ensemble is complete without a treat for all of the senses- sight, touch, and smell. She received her wardrobe by courier two days before our dinner date.

Dinner would be at a friend of mine’s restaurant, a five-star place on the river downtown. I reserved the best table and paid the restaurant in advance to remove the two tables closest to us so we could speak candidly without being overheard.

My new little whore was a vision when she stepped out of her Uber. She had cleaned up incredibly well, and the young lady put obvious effort into her appearance for our dinner meeting tonight. That was a promising sign.

Her hair was in loose curls, cascading down her back in a bouncy mane of luxurious brunette. Her bursa eskort make-up was without flaw, understated and elegant. Her lipstick suggested a hint of drama, but was not too apparent. The pearls draped perfectly from her neck to her décolletage, and the little earrings added a well-coordinated finish to her beautiful presentation.

I judged her sizes well. Her firm breasts heaved at the top of the snug, plunging little black dress. The black, add 2-cup-size 34C push-up bra I sent her looked opulent under this dress. Her delicious young cleavage was swollen, soft, round and smooth, bulging up and out of her neckline. I’m sure that tiny, snug little black sheer thong panty was just barely there underneath her dress and above her nude thigh-highs. As a dancer, she was no-doubt waxed smooth down there. This, of course, would remain my ongoing requirement, one of many to come.

She looked absolutely magnificent. Better than I had hoped. She was beginning to seem even more like a fine candidate for a wife.

I held the door, she stepped through. I couldn’t help but notice her pretty little buttocks under the snug, little black dress. It was petite, high, protruding and firm. There was a noticeable sway to her alluring walk. Not a hint of panty line because of the little G-string I sent her. The satiny black fabric of the dress seemed to glide just slightly over her smooth, mostly nude skin underneath. She handled the high heels well for a young girl, no doubt a skill acquired in her profession. Good. Very promising.

The hostess directed us to my table. My little candidate had the poise to stand politely while I pulled her chair out for her to be seated. This was an excellent sign. It meant she was somehow refined. How a little 18-year old topless dancer learned this poise, I had no idea, but it boded well. We sat near the huge window overlooking the river. Best seat in the restaurant. Most private too.

“I hope you enjoy our dinner my dear, and our conversation. You are truly a vision tonight. You look magnificent. Everything fit well, I trust?”

“It did. Not sure how you figured out my sizes so well, but even the shoes, and the other things… They all fit perfectly. Thank you. Ah, do I get to…”

“Keep them?” I returned.

“Yes. Am I supposed to keep all this?”

“These items are yours young lady, for accepting my humble invitation. I appreciate it very much. It’s a delight to be here with you. Truly. You look so beautiful. No one could make this ensemble look as alluring, and my tastes are very discriminating. Actually, you are much more beautiful here, tonight, than at your workplace. That says a lot.”

She sat quietly for a moment, glanced down, then seemed to summon some resolve and looked up at me.

“Thank you.”

There was a noticeable lean forward in her posture suddenly. The waiter bursa escort appeared at just that instant, introduced himself, took drink orders and left a list of appetizers to start the evening. His arrival quelled whatever it was she had leaned forward to ask.

He stepped away. She began.

“What is this about? I mean, why did you ask me out?”

She was right to the point. Admirable. Suggests that perhaps others had dealt with her less than honestly.

“I want to make a proposition to you. It is a significant one, and I wager it will take some time on your part to fully consider it, as well such a proposition should. Along with my proposition comes a plan. And a proposal. Literally.”

She remained seated upright, but now looking at me with very wide, very brown, eyes.

“I’m interested in recruiting a wife.”

Silence hung in the air. Her posture frozen. Continuing to fix her wide eyes on me. I calmly reached for my water glass and sipped some Perrier. Let the comment hang in the now-heavy air.

She reached for her glass, likely in awkward mimicry but also, I wager, because her mouth was suddenly dry.

“I’m sorry My Dear. Let me explain further. I’m a busy, and systematic man. People say that I am very focused. I say that is normal, and all else is abnormal. When I set about a project, I make a deliberate plan. And I make lofty goals. Excellence in everything I do. Simplicity in my plans. And always, strict honesty and openness. Some people find this awkward.”

I fixed my look on her, not glaring, but looking into her wide, brown eyes with sincerity.

“Young lady, you are perfection. You are beautiful. Beautiful beyond description, and this is a magnificent gift. You are poised. I don’t know how you’ve acquired this quality, but it is rare today. Especially for a young lady. In only the last fifteen minutes since our arrival tonight I’ve observed that in you. The way you stepped out of the car when you arrived. You let me open the door to the restaurant for you. Waited for me to do it. You stood politely and in a dignified manner while I pulled your chair out for you. I’m not sure where you learned these things, but they are valuable to me. Precious even. As valuable as your appearance, which, as I’ve said, is absolutely opulent.”

She appeared to ease somewhat. Soften. But a learned cynicism and caution remained. I could see that.

“So, I am looking for a wife. A beautiful, poised, submissive sexual servant wife. A devoted, capable and willing young lady to join me in life’s finer things. Travel. Entertainment. And especially, sexual activities, a priority of mine. I’m interested in nearly every sexual activity. And I’d like you to join me in them if you find the terms of my proposal, and of course, myself, acceptable and to your agreement.”

Her silence remained. bursa escort bayan She seemed frozen, taking all this in. I had expected that, so I decided to divert for a few moments and return the conversation to that of a simple dinner date.

“But, enough of this business and life talk. Let’s table my offer for now and simply enjoy the evening and try to get to know each other a little. That is, of course, the first step My Dear, and I am very thorough.”

We placed an order for appetizers and drinks. Neither of us drank alcohol, another good sign. She appeared to relax some as the first course arrived and the conversation lightened.

She began dancing at 18. Was going to turn 19 in six weeks. I noted her impending birthday. She revealed little, but ask many questions. Some were remarkably matrimonial, which was a good sign. She asked me about how I made a living. When the expanse of my ventures became apparent, she did well to not appear overly impressed, as though it was common to her.

“Have you ever been married?” She asked.

I told her I had been too busy building my businesses. I told her I never felt I was in a position to make an offer like I was proposing now, and that I knew it would be extraordinary to find a girl to agree to my terms without significant incentives. The conversation lapsed back to my offer.

“Listen young lady, I know my offer is incredibly forward, very presumptuous- at least now it is, and you have almost no reason to take it seriously. I realize this, and I respect any cynicism. It is well founded in today’s world.”

She fumbled with a piece of shrimp on her plate, licked her beautifully polished finger, swigged some Perrier, and kept her huge, brown eyes on me as I spoke.

“But, you must acknowledge the practicality of my offer. Consider the alternatives, in your future, your life. And, I intend to prove to you that my offer is authentic and trustworthy before you should even offer a response.”

Silence from her. She dabbed the corner of her mouth with the napkin from her lap. For an eighteen-year-old girl, she was accomplished at keeping her cool, holding her cards close.

“This is a lot to consider young lady. Allow me to make an interim suggestion. Think about my offer for a few days. If you would like to explore it further, completely without commitment or obligation, then join me on a holiday. Perhaps we can visit Thailand, a favorite of mine. Or, Sri Lanka. I know of a beautiful resort there with over-water bungalows. It’s up to you. Perhaps you’d enjoy a week in Nice, France. Another favorite of mine. At the Hotel Negresco along the Promenade des Anglais. I know beautiful cafés there. If you love coffee, you’ll love the breakfasts. And the bakeries.”

The waiter returned with dinner menus.

“Consider my offer during this upcoming week young lady, and let’s enjoy our dinner. We have plenty of time to discuss the specifics. For tonight, let’s just enjoy each other’s company, my friend’s wonderful dining and a beautiful evening, made all the more beautiful by you.”

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