This is one of 35 stories collected in my e-book Sluts In Training – Stories of Educating Slaves and Other Pets, available for only $3.99 USD from my creator site. (Click here to view in store.)

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Jenna’s husband Brett had seen an ad for it on a website, and knew instantly that it was exactly what Jenna needed to make her a better woman.

Jenna had always been difficult and disobedient, so it took some effort to get her to submit to the steps necessary to implement the Corrective System. When he told her about it, she just started shaking her head and saying “no”, like a brat, so he wrestled her to the bed, pulled off her clothes, and took advantage of the moment to rape her for good measure. (The sad truth was that Jenna was always a more enjoyable fuck when she wasn’t consenting.)

Then he tied her to the bed, legs spread, and spanked her cunt with his hand until she orgasmed, started crying, orgasmed again, and then finally agreed to what he wanted.

He left her tied there, and sent for his tattooist friend Logan to give her the necessary piercings. They were simple enough – one through her clitoris, and one through each nipple. They didn’t bother to numb her – in fact, they had some fun using her Hitachi on her pussy first, piercing gun poised, and doing each piercing exactly as she orgasmed. The two nipples went first, and by the time they were waiting to do her clitoris, the terror on her face as she felt her third orgasm approaching was a joy to behold.

Then they put the Corrective System on her. It started with a pair of special stripper heels. The inner soles had small spikes in them – not enough to damage Jenna, but enough to make it very uncomfortable to put weight on them. The ankles had special straps that locked in place with a padlock, so Jenna couldn’t remove them.

A metal ring went in each of Jenna’s new piercings – welded shut, to prevent removal – and then a subtle leather collar went on her neck, again padlocked shut.

Long elastic straps ran from the back of the heels up Jenna’s legs, and passed through the metal ring they had placed in her clitoris piercing. From there, they went up her back, passed through small rings on each side of her collar, and down her cleavage, each connecting to one of her nipple rings.

The elastic wasn’t quite long enough for her to stand upright comfortably. When her legs were at full extension, the elastic would pull her tits upwards sharply and painfully by her nipple rings, making them look strange and lewd inside any clothing she was wearing, and causing her significant pain. Sitting in a chair would generally cause the same problem, as the elastic would still need to pass under her knee.

However, if she was kneeling or crawling, the distance between her heels and her pussy ring would be reduced, and the pull on her tits would be relieved. In the short term, her dilemma would be amusing to watch, and in the long term it would make her associate kneeling and crawling with comfort, and standing and sitting with pain.

Then they put a metal bracelet on each wrist. These, too, were welded shut. The words “fuckdoll” and “rapetoy” were subtly engraved on each one – invisible at a distance, but obvious to anyone holding her hand. 

From each of these bracelets, a short length of elastic went behind Jenna’s back, between her legs, and connected to her clitoris ring. It was quite stretchable elastic – Jenna could move her arms to their full extension, if she so chose – but the more she extended them away from her hips, the more agonising the pain in her clit would become. She would soon learn to leave her hands by her sides if she could at all help it.

The change in Jenna’s behaviour was dramatic – and pleasing. Within a week, she was habitually kneeling and crawling when around the house. She hated having to go outside and walk upright. Brett experimented with putting a vibrator in her pussy when he did take her out in public, and to his delight, Jenna soon began to *ask* for the vibrator if she had to go “walking”, because the endorphins of arousal mitigated the pain in her tits. 

Jenna rarely moved her hands away from her hips anymore – her most common reason to do so was to crawl, and even then she avoided crawling further than she needed to. Brett discovered he could expose Jenna’s tits in public, and she would blushingly leave them uncovered, because the pain of raising her hands to cover them was worse than the shame of leaving them exposed. In fact, he could now discipline her by slapping her tits, and she wouldn’t even raise her hands to protect them.

“Are you happy now?” she asked him one day, in a pouting, sullen voice.

As a matter of fact, he *had* been happy, but the note of rebellion in her voice made him realise that he clearly wasn’t done yet.

“No, I don’t think I am,” he said. “Put your vibrator in. I’m taking you out to the optometrist. We’re going to get some contact lenses.”

“But I don’t need lenses,” she said. “My eyesight is fine.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “I think we need some corrective lenses for you to wear in public that will make you so near-sighted you’re almost blind.”

“Why?” she wailed.

“Because,” he said, “I’m going to enjoy it so much when you *ask* me to clip a dog leash to your clitoris ring to lead you around in public because it’s the only way you can walk five steps without running into something….”

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