Page 9 of Shameful Needs
“I don’t know what you think you know about me,” I said, my voice barely steady, “but you’re wrong. I love my husband. I want to be a good wife.”
“I’m sure you do,” Mrs. Chen replied, making another note. “But wanting to be good and needing to be controlled are not mutually exclusive. In fact, in our experience, they often go hand in hand. The women who benefit most from our programs are exactly like you—intelligent, strong-willed, desperately trying to be perfect while fighting against their own nature.”
“My nature?” I laughed bitterly. “You don’t know anything about my nature.”
“Don’t I?” She consulted her tablet again. “Let me tell you what I see. A nineteen-year-old woman who married quickly after a period of sexual experimentation she now views as shameful. A young woman who avoids intimacy with her husband because she’s afraid of what she might reveal about herself. A young woman who lies compulsively to avoid consequences, then punishes herself through reckless behavior when the guilt becomes too much.”
Each word felt like a thrown stone. I wanted to argue, to deny everything, but the accuracy of her assessment left me speechless.
“Most telling of all,” Mrs. Chen continued, “a woman whose body responds with arousal to discipline, even as her mind rejects it. Ryan showed remarkable intuition when he spanked you today. Your physical response was quite dramatic, wasn’t it?”
“Stop,” I whispered, tears pricking at my eyes. “Please just stop.”
“Everything will be much easier if you’re honest with yourself, Heather. And with your trainers.”
The word hit me like ice water. “Trainers?You keep saying that word. What kind oftrainingare you talking about?”
Mrs. Chen smiled, and for the first time, there was something almost maternal in her expression. “The kind that will help you stop running from who you really are. The kind that will teachyou to embrace your submissive nature instead of fighting it. The kind that will make you the wife Ryan needs you to be.”
“I don’t have a submissive nature,” I said desperately. “I’m not like that. I’m not?—”
“Heather.” Mrs. Chen’s voice was gentle but firm. “Did you ask to be here?”
The question was so unexpected that I answered it automatically. “What? No, of course not. I don’t want to be here.”
“And yet here you are, in restraints, being taken to a facility where you’ll be trained whether you consent or not. How does that make you feel?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died in my throat. Because the truth was Mrs. Chen was right. The helplessness, the lack of control, the way I was being taken somewhere against my will—it was making me wet. My body was responding to the situation in ways that horrified me, in ways that reminded me of things I’d sworn I’d forgotten.
For a moment, I considered telling her. Admitting that the idea of being trained for Ryan’s pleasure sent heat coursing through my veins. That part of me wanted to surrender to whatever they had planned, to stop fighting against urges I’d been suppressing for months.
But then I thought about what that would mean. About having to explain to Ryan why I was this way. About having to tell him about Chad… about Chad’s friends… about the ones whose name I didn’t even know, and the way they and Chad had used me like a piece of meat while I begged for more.
About how I’d come so hard with a stranger’s cock in my mouth and Chad’s cock in my ass that I’d nearly passed out. About how they’d high-fived over my back while I was still twitching from the orgasm.
About how I’d loved every degrading second of it.
“Look at this little slut,”Chad said to his friend. “Heather even comes when she’s getting it in the ass.”
“Can I try?”
“Nah. I keep the ass for myself. Gotta have some boundaries. You want to try her pussy, though?”
And I…I had clenched and whimpered around the friend’s hardness as he held my head in place and fucked my face, at the prospect of my ‘boyfriend’ sharing my pussy with a man whose name I didn’t know.
No. I couldn’t tell anyone that. Not even Ryan—let alone this awful woman. I wouldn’t. Some doors had to stay closed.
“I feel outraged,” I said, my voice stronger than I’d expected. “I feel like my rights are being violated.” I leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, meeting Mrs. Chen’s eyes directly. “Did my husband consent to this? Did Ryan actually agree to have me… trained… like some kind of animal?”
Mrs. Chen’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course he did. In fact, he’s completing his training preferences as we speak. He’ll be specifying exactly what kind of discipline you’ll receive, what methods will be used, what boundaries exist—if any.”
The blood drained from my face. “What do you mean, if any?”
“Well, that depends on what Ryan decides you need. Some husbands prefer their wives to maintain certain limits during training. Others feel that complete surrender is necessary for true growth.” She glanced at her tablet. “Given what I observed between you two today, I suspect Ryan is beginning to understand that you need a very firm hand indeed.”
The van slowed, turning into what looked like a business park. Through the tinted windows, I could see a cluster of low, modern buildings surrounded by manicured lawns andhigh fencing. A discreet sign readSELECTA Solutionsin sleek corporate lettering.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Chen announced. “Your new home for the next few days.”
