Page 9 of Shamefully Trained

Do you welcome firm correction when you earn it?

I nearly laughed at the screen. Then I typed, carefully and with gritted teeth:

Former legislative staffer seeking a discreet, mutually beneficial arrangement. Intelligent, polished, well-read, and adaptable. I value clarity, respect, and generosity.

It sounded to me like proof of life from a hostage, but I refused to give the app more than that.

It nudged me toward photographs next. Minimum recommendation: one face photo, one full-length photo, one lingerie or nude photo.

Profiles with tasteful intimate images receive substantially more sponsor engagement.

I chose a selfie from three months earlier in which I wore a navy blouse buttoned to the throat and looked like someone who had opinions about budget reconciliation. Then I added a full-length picture from a fundraiser where my dress was flattering but not indecent. The app kept offering suggestions in little sliding bubbles.

Show your sponsor what he’ll be rewarding.

Confident sensuality attracts decisive men.

A tasteful nude signals maturity and seriousness.

“Absolutely not,” I muttered, and hit publish.

Once the profile went live, a different part of the app opened up and displayed the men.

There were dozens in my area alone. I supposed it fit the most powerful city in the world, but the sheer number surprised me.

Some of their profiles made me recoil instantly. Some made me roll my eyes. A few, to my disgust, made something low in my stomach tighten before I swiped the screen away from them.

One wanted a ‘fresh-faced obedient girl’ and required daily photographs for wardrobe approval. Another described himself as ‘old-fashioned’ and listed mandatory church attendance. One man, in the polished detached language of someone describing preferred wine pairings, specified that his associate should be ‘grateful for stern correction and understand that tears after punishment are not a crisis.’

I hated that sentence enough to read it twice.

It should all have been easy to dismiss. It wasn’t. The app was too well designed. It let me sort by neighborhood, allowance range, travel expectations, exclusivity, and, with a little lock icon I should not have tapped and did, disciplinary style.

Light… Moderate… Firm… Comprehensive.

My pulse felt visible at the base of my throat when I selected Firm.

I don’t know why I did that. Or rather, I do know, and I didn’t want to know. There was a difference.

That was how I first found Porter B.

His profile photograph showed only part of his face—jaw, mouth, one gray-flecked temple—and the rest of him in an expensive dark suit. It should have looked evasive. Instead it came across as controlled. The written portion was concise in a way that made the others seem vulgar and overeager.

Established, discreet, demanding. I prefer an associate who is intelligent, feminine, and honest about her need for structure. I am generous with a woman who pleases me and consistent with one who requires correction. Defiance, dishonesty, and carelessness will be disciplined firmly. I do not bluff, negotiate consequences after the fact, or repeat myself.

That alone made me press my thighs together.

I felt disgusted with myself so immediately that the disgust itself seemed rehearsed. I kept reading anyway.

He wanted exclusivity. He expected prompt replies, tasteful dress, and physical availability several nights per week. He preferred a woman in her twenties. He disliked public drama. He enjoyed travel, private dinners, and the rewarding process of bringing a spirited young woman into willing obedience.

That phrase made my mouth go dry.

There were no explicit sexual demands in the visible section, but there was a note that unlocked when I clicked to expand it:

Anal training, discipline, and intercourse will be an important part of your life, if you accept a sponsorship offer from me. I believe a submissive young woman learns her most important lessons that way.

CHAPTER 4