Published:
August 24, 2023
Doppeltes Training
An email reached me from Salzburg, and Slave Konni asked me to write a book in honor of her late mistress. I then requested some background information from her and began developing a story. It is largely based on the slave's life and contains several biographical elements. She also chose the cover herself. Of course, she received each chapter in advance and was able to contribute ideas and make changes.
What emerged was this book with a preface by Slave Konni, who longed for a mistress. The book was well-received by my readers, but no mistress ever contacted me to establish a connection. I found that extremely unfortunate, though I sadly couldn’t do anything about it. The preface reveals much about her, and she was ready to move on to a new mistress and leave her previous life behind. In the end, only this book remains—and naturally, it is dedicated to the deceased.
Chapter 1
Far away on this morning, the deep ringing bells of the tower clock were hardly audible as I left my front door to begin my training. At six o'clock sharp, I went on my usual training run, like every day when I had a late shift at the clinic. Training for a triathlon was my compensation for the exhausting work in the oncology clinic, to clear my head. When I physically pushed myself to exhaustion, I could suppress the stories from work that deeply affected me. Anyone who landed on our station had massive health problems that often ended in death.
The stories at work weighed on me somehow. It wasn't easy to get an insight into the fates of many people and have to watch them die so often. Especially with my young 22 years, just finished nursing school, I couldn't process it as well as the older colleagues. I always loved running, which made it simple for me to outwit my inner couch potato early in the morning to go training. My usual routine before a late shift was an easy ten kilometers of running followed by twenty kilometers on the bike.
I couldn't train swimming daily at the start of winter, so I postponed it to the weeks when I had a morning shift. In the afternoon, there was the least activity in the public swimming pool and I could swim my laps calmly if I wasn't bothered by teenagers. Actually, they could have saved themselves that. I couldn't really do anything with guys or men. They were too primitive for me, and the short bed stories with some of them gave me neither satisfaction nor any kick. The opposite was true, and I kept away from these beings.
My training route took me through some hills, away from the city and there was no traffic to watch out for. Of course, the distance wasn't enough for a normal triathlon, but as daily training it sufficed for now. On my free days, I went beyond the actual distances then. There I ran twenty kilometers first before switching to my bike for sixty kilometers. Then I had more company. During the week, I was usually alone because I didn't have a training partner or someone who motivated me. There weren't very many women in my vicinity who also trained for a triathlon.
Most of what I found were some joggers who did their daily five kilometers and mostly dulled themselves with an MP3 player. Only one woman I always met again. She ran much more than the others, but unfortunately also very irregularly. She came towards me sometimes in her extremely tight training suit that emphasized her physical curves very well. It was a sinful expensive material, which I couldn't afford easily with my income. But my money went to other training equipment. Not least for my bike, which alone cost more than two thousand euros. Moreover, tire wear wasn't particularly cheap to compensate.
I remained an amateur who just saw the training as a balance for work. Despite that, I very much enjoyed once completing a real triathlon. In spring or summer there were always events in several European cities where amateurs could participate. Especially it was my dream one day to achieve my performance in London and Barcelona. But until then, I had to train more frequently and harder and save up some money. I needed some financial means to afford a hotel room there and pay for the trip. The trip to London was by far the least problem.
This morning I was lucky to meet my acquaintance who turned onto my street from another road and quickly caught up with me. Like a gazelle, she ran right next to me and slowed down a bit. She wasn't breathing as heavily as me yet and began an easy conversation with me. I had already noticed her several times and she thought of me as a lame duck, only with less fat on my behind. My breath told her that I still had big problems getting through the distance of a triathlon. At the same time, I also noticed that during our conversation she slightly increased her pace and I had to push myself to keep up.
Suddenly, she stopped, glanced at her watch on her wrist, giving me a glimpse of her colored decorated forearm, and began stretching exercises. I had already done mine before, but doing it once more couldn't hurt. So I started to do her exercises as well. While doing a further lunge, she smiled at me and said, "You have to really spread your legs apart otherwise nothing will come out of it. It has to hurt."
I hadn't dealt much with stretching exercises up to then, but if I could learn something from her, I should accept the nice offer. Since she also appealed to me on the outside, I said, "You can show me how it's done properly."
With a grin on her face, she ended the exercise, came over to me and kicked my legs with her shoes so that I spread them further apart. It already hurt quite a bit, but pain never stopped me from anything before. During my youth, I had already determined that I liked pain. The more of it, the better I felt. At some point, I once read in a magazine that this was called masochism. Moreover, during my training, I had a little secret. Under my clothes, I constantly wore a plug in my ass, which gave me wonderful pain especially when cycling.
Actually, I wore this tormentor all day long. I felt better with it and under my clothes, no one else would notice it. She directed me further, did her own exercises next to me, and then urged me to continue running. To praise me a bit she gave me a light slap on my ass, and we ran along the road next to each other. Once more, she increased her pace, and I desperately tried to follow her. She was clearly in better shape than me and effortlessly pulled away several meters from me. Without paying attention to me, she built up a lead of almost fifty meters, turned around, and called out to me, "Where are you? Do a sprint!"
I found it hard to breathe and I was pretty exhausted, but still tried as well as I could to run faster to catch her. Only with the highest effort did I get closer to her again, where she wasn't even in her actual pace yet. Actually, she became slower, which allowed me to catch up a bit, until I finally ran at her level. As if she felt no effort at all, she smiled at me and said, "You have to train much harder for your goal. Should I maybe help you with that?"
"If you can, please," I panted.
She stopped, looked deeply into my eyes, and said, "I can't run for you, you have to do it yourself, but I will push you. When is your next training planned?"
Completely out of breath, I answered, "Early in the morning at six o'clock. If I have a late shift at the hospital, I run my morning round and then switch to my bike."
"Okay, we start at five in the morning and your bike gets a break. But be punctual with me. I won't wait for you on the road at any cost."
"I don't even know where you live or your name," I protested.
She pulled out her phone from her sports suit, tapped on it, and then handed me her complete address. Her name was Carina Huber, and she lived not far from me in Salzburg. On foot, that was just ten minutes. After I had remembered the address and nodded, she put the mobile phone back in her pocket, smiled, and left me with a cheerful "See you tomorrow morning," simply running off like a cheetah, turning the next corner and disappearing. Something about her entire demeanor completely threw me. Exhausted, I dragged myself back home and sat on my expensive bike.
While cycling my route, my thoughts only revolved around the mysterious Carina with her dominant manner. I liked that very much. In my family, I was somehow out of place. My father and mother ran a transport company. From an early age, I felt their dominant behavior, which trained me and my older sister in technology and economy. Naturally, we were supposed to take over the business one day, as my parents wished from their children. I wasn't bad at school and did an above-average Abitur. After a year in my parents' company, I decided to train as a nurse.
My sister was dominant like my parents, while I was more of a devoted person. The genes had hit my sister and left me out. My training as a nurse also went very well, and I found an average paid job at a hospital in Salzburg. My parents were anything but excited about my change of heart. Nevertheless, my father occasionally gave me some money to support me. My mother mustn't find out under any circumstances. For her, I was already a red rag after I left the company and became a small employee.
However, Carina also seemed dominant to me, and I couldn't deny that she interested me. My bike training was today more exhausting than usual and not even the plug in my ass hindered my thoughts from constantly drifting back to Carina. Somehow, she had managed to fixate on me. At home under the shower, I needed some urgent relaxation first. With the showerhead, I massaged my crotch and in my head, the film of Carina during our stretching exercises kept playing again and again.
The work at the hospital took my thoughts completely elsewhere, and I dealt again with my patients. They all had a hard time, and as a young nurse, I wasn't only responsible for their physical well-being but also had to take care of their mental state. Especially the women with radiotherapy struggled with their lost hair that they had nurtured over years and felt completely unattractive with a bald head. They wanted to hide from everyone and partially even lacked the courage to show themselves to their husband or children.
But when I was back on my way home after the late shift, thoughts of Carina came again. Somehow, I looked forward to the next morning, even though it would be very exhausting for me. She would run me through the area quite thoroughly and change my training. But if I could keep up with her pace and become much better, I would come closer to my big dream. At least I wanted to complete one triathlon in a European city among the amateurs. Not to prove anything to others, but simply because I wanted to torment myself to complete exhaustion.
But already the night was anything else than restful for me. I just couldn't fall asleep and thoughts of Carina and what she would do with me in the morning swirled around in my head. The training I could certainly get through. I was used to running longer distances, only not at the speed that Carina showed. The suffering was therefore foreseeable, but it didn't scare me off. I wanted to prove to her that I could improve significantly and maybe also make a good figure to convince her, if that was even possible.
Only early in the morning did I find a light sleep, which my alarm clock interrupted shortly afterwards. The digital display of my alarm clock grinned mockingly at me as I got out of my warm bed and did my usual morning routine. Afterward, I put on my training clothes for the cold weather and went outside. I would have loved to turn around on my heels and crawl back into my bed. During the night snow had fallen, and the sharp wind kept lowering the temperature further. Not even the salting vehicles were moving, and with my running shoes, I couldn't move at all on the icy surface.
On the way to Carina's address, my excitement increased a little, but it almost knocked me over three times because with my running shoes I had no grip and slipped. Under these conditions, it even seemed very convenient that I left the bike today. On the icy surface you could skate on the narrow tires as much as you rode. I had even put on gloves and a thick cap to defy the snowfall. A model competition I could certainly not win, because even my mirror in the bathroom would have run away screaming.
When I turned the last corner, I almost fainted. Carina stood in front of her house, doing some light stretching exercises and looked as if freshly hatched from an egg. After she noticed me, she straightened up, made a displeased face, and asked, "Why are you sneaking through the snow like a scared chicken and looking like a snowman? When running, you'll get warm, so throw away your hat and gloves!"
Reluctantly, I took off the cap, pulled my warm gloves off, and kept them in my hands because of the lack of pockets. Carina put her hands on her hips and shook her head. Since I couldn't store my things in a bag and didn't want to throw them away, she came towards me, took the clothes from me, and stuffed them into the back of my pants. To warm up, she sent me for three laps around the block in running pace. Every time I passed her, she threw a lap time at me and demanded that I run faster. I had to achieve a better time every lap. Despite that, she wasn't satisfied with me, which she clearly told me when stretching.
Chapter 2
After my first stretching exercises, she looked at me intensely and said, "We're going to run three more laps around the block, and you stick to my ass like a swarm of flies on a cow."
While I tried to understand her words, she was already running off and pulled ahead by several meters. I couldn't even begin to follow her on the laps. I kept slipping on my slick running shoes, stumbled, and had to struggle to stay on my legs. Although Carina faced the same conditions, she ran lightly ahead of me. On the three required laps, I ended up with more than one lap's disadvantage. Just before the finish line, she overtook me, then stopped and began stretching again. I still had another lap to run.
After completing this one as well and finally catching up with Carina, she was quite angry about my failure. During the required stretching exercises, she pushed me more and more, corrected my position, and even gave some slaps on my muscles that I silently endured. They felt almost like a reward to me, although they were surely meant otherwise. Carina treated me very harshly, which on one hand exactly matched my preferences, but from her perspective as my trainer on the first day was completely different. After the second stretch, she dragged me out for the first long run.
Outside the city, we tried to climb a smaller hill but had to give up after almost half of it. The ground was frozen and icy, and the snow didn't provide enough grip to go up. Even Carina couldn't move forward anymore. Under the thin layer of loose snow above, there was bare ice on the road, which gave us no chance at all. Our running training turned into a slide party, and I sat more on my ass and slid down. Carina had it similarly and kept sliding after me.
Like in a two-person bobsled, we slid one after another into a field, and Carina almost ended up lying on top of me. Unfortunately, I twisted my ankle a bit and couldn't stand properly anymore. Carina, however, remained unharmed and forced me to get up despite that. Of course, I stood more on my still-fit left leg than on the injured right one, which Carina noted with a grin. What came next almost took my shoes off. Carina looked deeply into my eyes before she said thoughtfully, "Stop whining and stand properly."
I complained and said, "I can't, my ankle hurts."
"You're such a bad liar. I didn't miss that you like pain."
"That's not true at all," I tried to defend myself.
Carina took a step closer, wrapped her arms around my torso, and targeted my ass with precision. She pushed the plug deeper into me and grinned, "Do you think I didn't notice yesterday that you're carrying something with you, you little slut?"
Before I could justify myself in any way, she pulled down my running pants and underwear to my knees, turned me around 180 degrees, and grabbed the small foot of my plug. Her other hand landed on my upper back and forced me to bend forward. Then she began pulling the plug out of my ass and pushing it back in even harder. Unfortunately, my right foot no longer allowed me to stay upright, and I fell forward onto my knees. That was exactly what she had been waiting for. Carina pushed my torso down so far that my face landed in the snow while simultaneously fucking me with the plug.
She almost screamed at me, "You like it, you bitch," and a few seconds later added, "Shout it out so the whole city can hear what a slut you are!"
My thinking stopped, and I screamed as she demanded. However, I was too quiet for her, which earned me additional hard slaps on my ass to make me scream louder. Naturally, it was still early in the morning, and my loud screams could be heard for several kilometers. My moaning grew louder, but Carina suddenly stopped her efforts before I reached climax. Although I begged after that, she left me alone, shoved the plug deep into my rectum again, and pulled me up by the hair back to an upright position.
I was not allowed to pull up my underwear or running pants and had to follow Carina with short steps all the way back into the city. She walked calmly behind me and kicked me in the ass repeatedly, gathered snow which she rubbed into my intimate area, or just slapped my cheeks. This training unfolded completely differently than I had imagined. However, I have to admit it wasn't to my disadvantage. Rather, I enjoyed being treated like that. My foot hurt, Carina inflicted more pain on me, and she made me run back into the city with my pants down. Anyone could see us, which excited me even more. A single glance from a window would have been enough for all of Salzburg to see me half-naked.
Carina didn't seem to mind; instead, she pushed me further. At this moment, she could have asked what she wanted. I would have fulfilled any wish with joy regardless of my situation. However, her plan with me was something else. Just before we reached her house again, she pulled up my pants herself, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me running behind her. Our way led us through Salzburg once more. Every time we saw yellow lamps from snowplows, she stopped me, had me stand spread-legged, and pulled down my pants again.
She put me on public display, and it wasn't hidden from any of the drivers. But this didn't scare me off; in fact, the opposite was true. I wanted more, a lot more, to be honest, and Carina seemed exactly right for that. She obviously wasn't indifferent either because she enjoyed presenting me like this and demanding even more from me. Finally, she even left me spread-legged in the snow and had me pull apart my labia with my hands so the drivers could see everything clearly. How much they liked it was evident. Many of them nearly stopped and looked closely.
Carina even let some passersby who were on their way in the morning take a close look at me and ordered me to look at them as well. My running training had turned into a show, and half the city now knew my groin. The last few hundred meters to her apartment I had to crawl on all fours beside her. Before her door, she made me stop, opened it, and said to me, "If you crawl over this threshold, your life as you knew it is finally over. It's your free decision whether you want that or not. You have two minutes to think about it."
From my side, there wasn't much left to think about. Carina's treatment had been better than anything I experienced in the last few hours, and for me, it was exactly the path I wanted to take from the bottom of my heart. Although at that moment, I didn't know what she actually intended to do with me, because up until then, she had been very reserved and avoided any announcements. Had she already planned all this? The final decision to crawl over the threshold didn't come from my head. Regardless of my thinking, my libido had taken control and sent the command to my muscles to cross the threshold.
Behind me, the door closed, and Carina pulled me roughly by my hair behind her until I was thrown onto the floor next to a sofa. Her harsh voice ordered me, "Take off your clothes and lay your outfit next to you on the floor."
That wasn't particularly difficult for me, and while she only took off the top layer of her sports outfit and sat down on the sofa in front of me, more of my white skin came into view. After all my clothes were neatly piled up beside me on a heap, she moved forward to the edge and slapped me hard on the cheek. Then she focused on me and asked, "Does this look like a pigsty to you, you sow? Fold your dirty clothes properly into a pile."
A pigsty was definitely not it. It was a normal, well-furnished living room with a TV on a small console behind me and a sofa with a small glass side table next to it. Behind it hung a beautiful painted picture on the wall, and in the corner there was a stereo system. As ordered, I rummaged through my pile and neatly folded all my clothes together, stacking them neatly beside me. Carina's commands were short and to the point. I had to stand spread-legged in front of her. Then I slowly turned around on my own axis until my back was to her and my fingers touched my toes. Shortly after, I received the order to pull my ass cheeks as far apart as possible and show her everything.
This inspection repeated itself two more times until I had to kneel in front of her sofa. Carina moved closer to me and grabbed my breasts hard, kneading them as if they were soft rubber balls. Her only comment was, "Little natural tits in size B. A butt like a horse and pussy lips that could be tied into knots. Plus, you're unclean-shaven and not even one single piercing or tattoo. That's going to be hard work. By the way, work—what do you do, you sow?"
" nurse in a gynecological oncology clinic," I answered briefly and immediately received another harsh slap.
"You ungrateful slut means either mistress or lady. Remember that well because the next reminder won't be pleasant," she warned me. "How old are you, you bitch?"
"Twenty-two years old, Mistress," I heard her say.
Carina leaned back relaxedly and thought about my statements for a moment. Only then did she launch a big roundhouse kick and completely submitted me to the facts. With a slight smile on her face, she explained, "You entered my house without any coercion and thus gave me all rights over you. From now on, I will make all decisions regarding you, and you will strictly follow my orders. Defiance will be severely punished. You will now get up, only wear your upper clothing, retrieve all documents about yourself from your apartment, bring your phone with you, and hand me a second key. Immediately after that, I expect you back here, and you will undress again without further instruction. Clothes are forbidden for my slave in my apartment. Move it, you bitch!"
For me, this was initially a whole board I had to digest. Nevertheless, I got up on my legs, pulled on my upper clothing, and left the apartment with trembling knees. For Carina, everything seemed completely normal as if she did it every day, while for me, it was total new territory. The entire situation was totally surreal and increased my arousal to a new maximum. I hadn't received any time frame from her, but I moved almost in a run so that I didn't get any other idea than to follow her instructions.
As soon as I entered my apartment, my hands instinctively searched for my documents, including all school transcripts and the certification of my completed training. A spare key to my apartment was hidden in my closet, which I took from its place in a fluid movement and tried to put into my pocket. Only then did I realize that my running pants had no pockets at all. I needed a carry bag for my documents and everything else Carina might require of me. Finally, my phone also found its way into the carry bag, and I left my apartment again.
The route to Carina's apartment, which usually took ten minutes, I ran back in four minutes despite my injured leg and the bad road conditions. I didn't want to keep her waiting too long. Soon after, I rang her doorbell. Carina didn't even use the intercom but simply pressed the door opener. I pushed the door open, slammed it behind me, and undressed myself. Still in the hallway, I neatly folded them up, took them in my arms, and headed into the living room. At the door, I stood frozen and couldn't close my mouth.
Carina was sitting completely naked on her sofa, tapping on her phone, and didn't even notice me. The sight was unbelievable. Her entire body under the clothes was adorned with tattoos. Moreover, a whole row of piercings glittered at me immediately. In both nostrils glinted a ring, and one more on the septum. Additionally, nine in both nipples, on the belly button, and in the genital area. She looked simply breathtaking, and I had the urgent need to fall to my knees before this goddess and suck her sweet nectar from the cleft. However, she didn't care about me at all.
As ordered, I knelt again in front of the sofa, laid my clothes on the pile, and took out my phone and the required documents from my carry bag, which I then also neatly folded and added to the pile of my clothes. For a whole while, I enjoyed the view of her naked body and balanced my phone on my hands in front of her. Without urgency, she tapped on the screen of her phone until it rang and then switched to settings. Without asking me, she placed her fingerprint in my memory so that she could access it anytime. I didn't get it back. She just put it next to herself on the sofa and took my entire documents, which she looked through as if absent-mindedly. She ordered me to crawl into her bathroom, take a cold shower, and shave properly. Every hair she found afterward would be a punishment for me.