Training the Trophy

 Finding the Ultimate Trophy Wife.

by  Sustainer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.


 

No matter what they may admit to, every man desires to have an obedient, submissive, beautiful trophy wife. Conversely, every woman secretly desires to be a perfect, subservient possession who is adored and cared for, objectified and kept captive while provided firm direction and absolved of all guilt surrounding sexual latitude- since her sexual conduct is no longer her choice, but rather, her solemn and sacred marriage duty. Every man wants this. Every woman secretly longs for this.

Through luck and industry, I have become a wealthy man. This alone is infinitely attractive to women. No matter what they may claim or espouse, how much they assert their feminism or independence, a woman desires a wealthy man to provide for them and offer financial security. Other than my wealth, and my sexual appetite, I am an utterly unremarkable man. Some women, more than you may imagine, are willing to exchange their full sexual servitude in for financial security and social status. My wife is such a woman.

I found her in a gentleman’s club. An upscale topless club where young women danced on stage in lingerie and revealing costumes, performing exotic dance routines for assembled clients while revealing their breasts and stripping to a G-string. Following their performance, the young girls would circulate among the patrons, making small talk and soliciting private lap dances in a more private setting in the back rooms of the club for large tips.

This was the perfect resource to find what I was looking for. Firstly, it acted as a kind of living catalog. Without the absurd constraints and antiquated conventions of “dating”, I could quickly review a large number of potential trophy wives before beginning the indoctrination into my marriage and trophy wife training and optimization program.

I am a businessman, and as such, I admire efficiency and a well-run process. In advance of my trophy wife assessment and selection I consulted with a friend who is a marriage counselor and a behavioral psychologist. He holds a Ph.D. in training psychology. After describing my objectives to him in obtaining the ideal trophy wife, he and I worked together closely under contract for months to create an optimal, scientifically configured, trophy wife selection, indoctrination and training program. This included an ongoing maintenance and administration routine for my eventual trophy wife. Once our perfect trophy wife curriculum was developed, I simply went to various upscale gentleman’s clubs to locate the very best trophy wife to my specific tastes and purposes.

She must have brown hair and brown eyes. Round cheeks and a full face with a round nose. Preferably European in heritage.

While her figure must fall within very specific parameters for hip measurement, leg length, buttocks shape, overall height and weight, her breast size and shape are not critical at intake since modern breast augmentation surgery means that any girl can have any breasts.

Perfect breasts exactly to my liking would be an add-on at a specific phase of the acquisition and indoctrination process. In fact, consultation with the cosmetic surgeon who was already contracted to perform my prospective trophy wife’s optimization had given me specific guidelines to look for in shopping for the right candidate. It was best to start with a young girl, 18-20, who was a 32 or 34 B cup bra size. This would be the perfect platform for creating a large, firm, high-breasted girl who would be a tailor-made 32-34DD cup after upgrade. After her work was completed, she would have large, firm, high breasts with dark, upturned nipples atop big areolae that puffed out from her tits in a constant state of erection and apparent arousal.

Her hips should be full, her buttocks round, firm and elevated, her waist trim and narrow, tapering down from her curvy, reproductive hips. Her legs should be moderately long with adequately full, not too-skinny calves and healthy, firm thighs since stockings are a particular fetish of mine, among many others. The perfect selection would be free of tattoos and, in the best of worlds, have nipples that were already large and dark in color, symmetrical and outsized to her breast size so they would scale up nicely to her new, much larger breasts. Puffy nipples are the most desirable, but if all other pre-existing physical factors are excellent, my cosmetic surgeon told me about a procedure whereby nipples and areolae could be enlarged, darkened and made to protrude more to my liking. I personally inspected a young girl he had performed the puffy-nipple enhancement procedure on, and the results were remarkable.

Once my selection criteria, recruiting and indoctrination processes were finalized, I went out looking.

After several enjoyable weeks of shopping at local gentleman’s clubs there was an epiphany. A young girl, 5'3" tall, long, brown hair, enormous brown eyes, swaying hips, round buttocks and the most beautiful face and button nose I had ever seen, sat in my lap and asked if I wanted a dance. It was impossible to refuse. I suspected immediately that I had found my quarry.

She danced for me as I reclined in a lounge chair in a private room, swaying in the shadowy light to soft music, then straddling my lap, stripping off her sheer, lacy bra, grabbing my hands and placing them directly on her breasts. Then she began to gyrate on my swelling erection, clad only in a little, shiny black thong panty. She leaned forward, pressing her tits to me, and whispered in my ear, “Back here you can do almost anything you want. $100 a song Sir.”

I felt her natural tits, and they were quite nice, likely a large “B” or “C” cup. An excellent starting point. Her hips were full and girlish, her buttocks spectacular and round, the skin smooth and even in tone from what I could see in this light. Her lips were large and I felt them on my neck when I leaned forward. Somewhat unusual for an exotic dancer to kiss a client on the neck. Her arms and legs were beautiful, her overall figure full and round. And that hair, my God, that beautiful mane of cascading, natural brown hair. Luxurious.

The gentle grinding of her thin thong panty crotch on my erect cock inside my pants had me soaked in precum. After three songs, I grabbed her firmly beneath the arms and moved her slightly away from me. She had a slightly surprised expression, then smiled, “Enough?” she asked.

“I have a proposition for you, young lady. Would you be willing to meet outside this club for dinner, for, perhaps, two or three hours? It would only be dinner and conversation, I assure you, in a public place. Nothing to risk. Everything to gain.”

She made an overly quizzical expression.

“Oh. A proposition? Ah. You know we aren’t supposed to be doing that.”

“Five thousand dollars for dinner young lady. And I buy your outfit for the night. No funny business. No sex. Nothing weird. You and I, dinner in a nice restaurant and a few hours of conversation. That’s all. No risk. All reward. What do you say?”

“Um. Sounds nice. Possibly. Maybe…” She cooed. She circled her thong-covered hips one more time on my lap, pressing down on my hard cock inside my pants extra hard.

“You buy one more dance, and I’ll think about it. But I need to know your real name. I’m going to check you out online before I decide. In the meantime, are your pants still getting tighter… and wetter? I’m soaked. My panties are almost soaked through. I’m going to have to go back and change after I’m done with you.”

In Part 2, I make a unique proposal to the young lady

“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 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 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. 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.”

by Sustainer for Literotica

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