Copyright © P Hopkins 2008 1

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 dark-
haired, at large in the world for the first time, both little
more than children and both still shyly exploring our newly-
discovered 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.

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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

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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 5

 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

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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 carefully-
controlled 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 slave-
training 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.

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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."

10 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008