Training The Rabbi

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008

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Training the Rabbi Part 1 The Rabbi lay naked in the center on her office desk, the worn green leather already marked in several places with her most intimate juices. Her large soft breasts with their oversize dark nipples were still rising and falling steadily. She was breathing heavily, still recovering from her second orgasm of the afternoon. As I watched, appreciating the curvaceous form of her thighs, another bead of moisture - no doubt some mixture of the lubricants, natural and synthetic, I had been using oozed from between her legs. The droplet ran onto the scattered papers she had not had time to remove when I arrived - demanding that she strip immediately - and blurred the printed characters of several alphabets and numerous languages. I carefully unpacked the last, and largest, of the sex toys from its padded compartment in the briefcase I had brought with me. I placed it upright on a corner of the desk, balanced precariously on the polished wood border. Her eyes widened as she watched me slowly oil the huge dong; I needed both hands to massage the lubrication over its black ribbed surface. I could see her swollen and oh-so-sensitive clit standing out in the soft folds of her reddened vagina lips. As usual I had forbidden her to touch herself, knowing just how quickly she would come again if she was allowed to do so. I bent forward, brushing her face with my own jet-black hair, now untied and flowing loose. She raised her strong chin defiantly, her own hair - still naturally black - falling away from her forehead as she did so. "Now, my dear, your last lesson from the Doctor for today," I said softly into her ear, "I need you to come on this for me. And, if you're very good, I'll allow you to touch yourself right at the end - maybe I'll even do it for you." She gulped, then nodded, spreading her legs wide once again and knocking the dildo I had been using on her earlier

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to the plush office carpet, joining the one I had used to release her first orgasm. The oil on the latest toy glistened in the light from the desk lamp as I held it up once more for her inspection. The hints of sunlight filtering though the closed shutters scattered from the motes of dust suspended in the air and cast deep shadows over the bookcases in the corners of the office. "You are going to enjoy this," I told her, moving to stand between her wide-open legs and holding the tip of the toy against her lips, "Nearly as much as me." Her moans turned to screams as I started to ease the huge dildo inside her. Part 2 The Rabbi and I first knew each other years ago - and here I really do mean "know", in that Biblical, Old Testament sense. We had met as University students, both newly arrived in the Psychology Department, and we had indulged in a breathlessly erotic affair for that first year. We were two young women, both slender and darkhaired, at large in the world for the first time, both little more than children and both still shyly exploring our newlydiscovered sexuality. We were nervous, ashamed, guilty, naive and still very innocent, despite the increasingly intimacy of our caresses. We had spend hours kissing and talking, in between studying our books and writing our essays, wearing only our underwear - too shy to shed even these flimsy articles - kissing and then drawing back, both of us all the time aching to be touched more. I can still remember the first time I felt her breasts, even then large and soft and delightful to kiss. The feeling of her joy and excitement as I scooped her left tit from the enclosing bra cup and brought her nipple to my mouth. She told be much later that, at that single contact, she had become so wet that her panties were completely soaked. We became bolder, learning how to touch each other in yet more intimate ways, running our fingers and later our tongues over each other, gently exploring the soft folds of labia and the stiff sensitive clitoris each desired the other to stroke. Copyright © P Hopkins 2008

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I found that the Rabbi could be brought to orgasm very quickly when her clit was stimulated by finger or tongue. If done in the right way - and I became expert enough in that year - I could bring to a screaming climax in less than a minute. She was wild and uncontrolled in those climatic moments, bucking and writhing, often involuntarily gripping my head between her soft and luscious thighs. It was only later when I realized how unusual it was for a woman to be able to come like that. It was later encounters with other women - many other women, in fact - that taught me that reaching a true orgasm is not always easy, sometimes impossible. But at the time, I felt like a freak, left out and alone, as I found it impossible to reach orgasm even with her frantically licking me for hours at a time. I took to holding back during our lovemaking, bringing her to the point of orgasm then cruelly stopping or moving my tongue subtly away from the most sensitive spot that would make her scream and writhe in ecstasy. My conscious manipulation of her satisfaction was the cause of more than one argument and eventually the stresses of the imbalance of our sexual reactions proved to be too much. We broke up, at the end of the first year, just before the long summer break. During the remainder of the years at the University, we remained at a cool distance - not unfriendly, but also not being seen together, even in the most casual of settings. I found other girls, and older women too - some much more experienced than I was - who taught me a great deal. By contrast, the Rabbi did not find herself another woman, but instead plunged into her work, by all accounts rarely emerging from her rooms and playing only a minimal role in the social life of the student body. After graduation, the Rabbi and I lost contact entirely. I remained in the Psychology Department, pursuing a series of postgraduate studies and research which eventually led to a doctorate. Post-doctoral studies followed, and I eventually became a tenured member of the academic staff, a teacher of students and an investigator of human behavior. From what I later discovered, the Rabbi returned to her community and her family, apparently conforming to the conventions of the world and her religion. This was one of 4

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008

the less rigid factions of Judaism which permits a woman to be trained as a Rabbi. After much study - something she had become accustomed to, no doubt - she achieved her aim and took up a post in a North London synagogue. Her degree in Psychology no doubt assisted her in the pastoral and community duties that are, I understand, required of such a religious role. She even took up with a nice Jewish boy, marrying him a few years afterwards, although I would later discover there was little sexual contact between husband and wife, and no children from the union. From all that I learned, it was clear that the Rabbi's religious and family background had re-asserted itself, perhaps as a reaction to what she saw as a rejection from me, away from what could have been a rebellious, licentious lifestyle. Part 3 It was during those long days - or, more precisely, long nights - while I was supposed to be studying that I truly discovered my own sexuality. I threw myself into the BDSM circuit, and found myself to be a sadist - a top, in the jargon - one who enjoying the sensation of power and control over those whose own pleasures demanded that they be controlled, restrained, bound with ropes and chains, and whipped and violated with abandon. I took many sexual partners - a series of willing slave-girls and dungeon sluts who enjoyed my whip on their ass, my chains on their breasts, and my toys in all of their openings. The modest salary from my academic position, supplemented by a little additional income from books and magazine articles - targeted at certain specialist audiences, of course - allowed me to acquire a small apartment in a central part of the city. I equipped the second bedroom - or, more precisely the room I reserve for my very special guests - with the tools and equipment I deemed necessary to inflict pain and pleasure in equal measure: the shackles and chains, the dildos and vibrators, the ropes and ankle straps, the gags and whips.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008

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Sometimes I would frequent the encounter areas of the Black Boots Club, a private members club for fetishists and which was conveniently close to my home - I chose it this very reason, of course. At the Club, I would frequently take on some whimpering slave or smarmy slut. If they behaved themselves, if they gave themselves entirely to my pleasure, then I would fit them with the collar and leash I would bring with me and drag them through the back alleys to the steel fire-door which forms the rear entrance to the block where I live. Meeting the Rabbi again was the result of a whim on my part. One evening I was lying on my own - none of my usual playmates were available, for one reason or another - on the cool black leather of my couch, dressed in an outfit I often don for a little self-pleasuring: tightly-fitting latex boots reaching to my upper thigh with similarly black gloves reaching above the elbow. Elsewhere, I was naked, of course, and I was idly fingering myself, rubbing a scented oil into the folds of my vagina and over the puckered opening of my anus. A few of my favorite toys lay to hand, items variously pink and black and chrome decorating the black granite top of the coffee table. As I picked up the first of the vibrators I planned to employ to work myself to a frenzied orgasm, I found myself thinking back with amusement at those early fumbling sexual encounters. After half an hour of vigorous self-sex - first things first, after all - I did a little research on the Internet. To my surprise, I found that the Rabbi was just a little famous. She was often quoted in both religious community circulars and national newspapers, and had occasionally been interviewed for local and even national radio. She even had one short appearance on daytime television. Practically a star. More intensive investigative work allowed me to track down her address. One evening, I paid a call, ringing the doorbell and standing back into the shadows. The Rabbi answered the door herself. "Who's there?" she called. I stepped forward and stood in her doorway in my long black leather boots and long black leather coat.

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"My Dark Angel," she said, "It's been such a long time. You'd better come in." Part 4 Our first sexual encounter after all those years had started much as the last one before we had argued and then gone our separate ways. There was much urgent kissing and fumbling inside clothes. I soon discarded my coat - I had not been wearing anything else except for the boots anyway. We slowly shed her conventional clothing on the floor, caressed each other's neck and breasts. She had reacted to my touch as before, her nipples hardening and darkening almost immediately. Now naked, she laid down on the carpet while knelt over her. I explored her cunt, already wet and ready with anticipation, then fingering her vigorously, pumping at her hard with two still fingers. After a few moments hesitancy, she reciprocated, reaching up to explore my vagina, also moist with excitement. During our mutual masturbation, I carefully avoided her clitoris. After a few minutes, I asked her, "You still need to be touched here" - I ran my tongue over her clit - "to make you come?" She gasped at my touch, then nodded. "Just this once," I said. A few swift strokes brought her off, screaming aloud in the fashion I remembered so well from my childhood. "I know you're a Rabbi now," I said, as she lay gasping from the after-shocks, "But I think you're in need of some further training. And, now that I'm a Doctor, I'll be the one giving it to you." I put my hand under her chin, tilting it up and exposing her throat. "I'm going to make you come properly, without touching your clit," I informed her, "Are you going to accept my kind offer?" "Yes, Doctor" she answered meekly. There and then, I devised a training programme for her, starting with the dildos in increasing sizes for her cunt and Copyright © P Hopkins 2008

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ass, interspersed with forced oral play on all of my openings. I would make her lie on the carpet, or the couch that stood by the shuttered windows, while I squatted down over her face. I would make her lick my anus and vagina while I held my lips apart with one black-gloved hand, making her slip her tongue deep into both openings. Meanwhile I would caress her vagina lips and just occasionally her clit with a whip that I had brought especially for the purpose, stimulating her as long as was correctly pleasuring me and whipping her painfully hard on the thighs and breasts when she got it wrong. I alternated the dildos with fingering and fisting, letting her feel the cool leather of my gloves penetrating her. In some of the more recent visits, I had acquired several exciting instruments which could administer carefullycontrolled pressure on her nipples. From all this intense attention, she was intensely excited, crying out ecstatically in pleasure for hours at a time, but I could never make her come, except for the release from those clitoral orgasms. It was only a matter of time before she learned better. Part 5 The oiled dildo was right inside her now. I needed both hands to fuck her with it, sliding it deep inside her and drawing it back out with a smooth motion. On each thrust, she found a little more space inside her, accommodating more and more of the giant dong while getting wetter and wetter, her own juices once again mingling with the glistening lubricant I had applied. I moved faster and faster, banging the black toy into her, vicariously enjoying her gasps for breath between her screams and moans of pain and pleasure. I found myself thinking about what I was putting her through: envying the energy in her fucking, and her enjoyment of the toys and the deep penetration I was now forcing on her. My own vagina and clit were still wet from where the Rabbi had been licking them earlier, as was the area around the sphincter of my anus. I sensed myself moistening further, reacting to her movements and my own thoughts.

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"Perhaps one last licking out is required," I murmured, just loud enough to be heard over her cries. She looked into my eyes, obviously accepting that this too was to be something I required of my slave. I placed one booted foot on the desk and bent over her, pressing my ass and cunt back against her face, pressed to her mouth, making it entirely clear what I was demanding. Arching my back, I leaned forward so my hair grazed her clit, standing proud and firm and erect under the intense stimulation of the dong inside her. The Rabbi had been behaving well today, in the slave-slut fashion I had required of her, and so I had not bothered to bind her wrists. She had become properly well-behaved under my ministrations during those many long slavetraining sessions in this very office. To my surprise, she suddenly reached up with one hand. The long nails of two fingers separated my pussy lips, her thumb was quickly buried in my vagina and a third finger was now rubbing my clit. Three quick strokes from her brought me, incredibly swiftly, to the brink of orgasm, two more slow strokes held me there for long seconds. And then I came, with a long drawn-out scream and intense muscular spasms, in a way I had never, in all those encounters, with all those other women, accomplished before. I collapsed over her body from the force of the orgasm. I lost my grip on the dildo, forgotten in the heat of the moment. When I opened my eyes, I could see the glistening black toy being extruded slowly from between her pink pussy lips over the green leather of her desk. I was dripping wet from my own intimate juices and, as she withdrew her thumb, I squirting a quantity of those juices over her mouth. With her other hand, the Rabbi was touching herself, giving herself to the clitoral orgasm I had promised her - like the one that had just transported me to a new plane of experience. "See, Doctor, that's how you do it," she found breath to say, when she - and I - had finally stopped shaking. I looked at her in astonishment.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008

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"I knew you could," she continued, smiling wantonly at me while licking her lips, "I knew I'd teach you how eventually."

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Copyright © P Hopkins 2008