Wives’ Training Camp

To please my wealthy husband, I signed up for an embarrassing “Wives’ Training Camp.” The coach pressed down on both sides of my knees, forcing my thighs to spread outward. The tearing pain made me gasp heavily: “Ahh, Jake, no more…” A sly glint flashed in his eyes: “You have to train your body to be soft enough—only then will men like it.” 1 My name is Sophia, I’m 30 years old, and I’ve been married to my rich husband Richard for almost three years. Originally, all I had to do was enjoy my comfortable life as a trophy wife, but recently I found some inappropriate messages on his phone. It gave me a sense of crisis. I met Richard through Anna’s “How to Marry a Millionaire” coaching program—I spent nearly $200,000 on her course to land him. If he cheats, fine, but if that clueless little mistress tries to take my place, wouldn’t all my effort have been wasted? “Mr. Richard, tonight I’m wearing black stockings waiting for you~” “Mr. Richard, if you ever feel unsatisfied with your wife, come to me, okay?” All the messages were from someone named Taylor. Taylor is his secretary. Even though Richard never replied, I had a feeling something had already happened between them. The bathroom door opened. I quickly put the phone back. Richard walked out with just a towel around his waist. Tonight was the first time this month he’d come home. I’d specially put on sexy lingerie, but he only glanced at it, seeming uninterested. I felt a little deflated. “Honey, you’re finally home—do you like what I’m wearing tonight?” I asked shyly. I twisted my body and looked at him with affectionate eyes. I clearly saw a slight movement under the towel. I hooked my arms around his neck and rubbed my full breasts against him. Soon the room grew steamy. I reached climax quickly. Richard sensed it and pulled away—but he hadn’t finished. “Honey, aren’t we continuing?” I asked, confused. For months it had been like this: he’d withdraw before finishing. That was what really worried me—if he wasn’t even interested in my body anymore, wouldn’t the mistress eventually replace me? “We’ll continue when you learn some new tricks. I still have work to do—I’m going to the study.” He threw out that line, got dressed, and left, leaving me lying alone on the bed, frustrated. Although Anna had personally trained me, my bedroom skills clearly couldn’t compare to those young vixens out there. This couldn’t go on—I hadn’t enjoyed my trophy-wife life nearly enough yet. The next day Richard went to work. I was about to head out for afternoon tea when Anna called. “Sophia, you free this afternoon? Same place for tea?” Anna and I stayed in touch often. With all my recent troubles and no one to talk to, her invitation was perfect. I happily agreed. The moment we met, she saw something was wrong. “How come in less than a month you look so worn out? Is the trophy-wife life not all it’s cracked up to be?” There was teasing in her tone. I sipped my latte and opened up: “It’s Richard—he seems to be cheating lately, and he’s not as passionate with me anymore.” Anna was the person I trusted most, so I was always direct with her. “Sweetie, men crave novelty. If you want to keep him, you need some new tricks,” Anna said with a knowing smirk. Her words echoed exactly what Richard had said—both telling me to learn something new. “I trained you myself—I know exactly what you’re missing. Come with me to a place; I guarantee it’ll fix your problem.” Now I was really curious. In elite circles, Anna was famous as a matchmaker. Countless wealthy men’s innocent wives had been introduced through her, so I had full confidence in her abilities. 2 Anna drove me to a high-end gym in downtown Manhattan. “Is this for body sculpting?” I asked, puzzled. My figure was already curvy in all the right places—pretty good, if I do say so myself. “You’ll see when we get inside,” Anna said mysteriously. At first the gym looked normal—just a luxury fitness center, nothing special. But then Anna led me to a side door. When she pushed it open, it was a completely different world. She guided me down a hallway lined with posters of gorgeous women showing off their bodies—nothing too unusual. At the end was another door. Though dimly lit, I could clearly read the large sign: “Wives’ Training Camp.” Instant shame washed over me—what on earth was this place? Anna pulled me inside. I was stunned by what I saw. A group of incredibly ripped male trainers were helping women perform highly suggestive, difficult bedroom positions. Anna and I sat on a nearby bench. “Just watch for now.” Every trainer had eight-pack abs, shirtless, their lightly tanned skin glistening with sweat—pure sex appeal. The women being put through the poses wore expressions of discomfort, yet upon closer look there was also a hint of frustrated desire. “Anna, what is this?” “Exactly what it looks like. It’s the Wives’ Training Camp. Wealthy wives who feel threatened come here to develop their bodies or learn new bedroom techniques to keep their husbands.” Anna gave me a meaningful glance. I’d only ever read about things like this in online erotica—never imagined it existed in real life. Anna pointed to a woman farther away whose legs were being pressed over her shoulders: “See her? That’s Vanessa, wife of a major real-estate tycoon. She’s almost forty.” I was still in shock when a man approached. “Hey Anna, want to grab coffee across the street?” Through Anna I learned this was Jake, head coach of the Wives’ Training Camp. Jake looked under thirty, over six feet tall with a muscular build. His tight workout pants outlined everything perfectly. I couldn’t help glancing there, then quickly looked away. God, I felt like a total perv. “Sophia’s husband hasn’t been fully satisfied in bed for the past couple of months. See if you have any courses that can help her keep him.” Anna was blunt—even in front of a guy my age—which made my face burn. Jake didn’t dodge the topic. “No problem. Many wives in the same situation have fixed it after our program. And Mrs. Sophia is so beautiful—our courses are just a boost.” His direct compliment flustered me. Who could resist appreciation from a gorgeous, fit guy like him? Still, I hesitated. “Do these courses really work?” Anna and Jake exchanged a look. “If they didn’t, no one would come, right? And you trust me, don’t you?” Fair point, but I wanted to think it over. 3 After adding Jake on WhatsApp, I went home. That night Richard came back from work. He was leaving on another business trip soon, meaning another long stretch without intimacy. So I’d prepared scented candles for seduction. But Richard still wasn’t impressed. “Same old moves every time.” His tone was reproachful and impatient, leaving me even more discouraged. Late that night Jake messaged me. “Sorry Mrs. Sophia, just finished up. Here are a few of our course descriptions—take a look.” He sent the program details. The first was body flexibility training. Remembering today’s scenes, I felt shy. The second was advanced bedroom techniques—the photos made me blush. The third… live practice. My heart sank—if it involved real partners, wasn’t that cheating? No way. So I only signed up for the first two courses with Jake. Richard was snoring beside me while the animated demos on my phone made me restless. My hand slid downward on its own—I was already wet. The next day at noon, Jake greeted me warmly. “Mrs. Sophia, you’re in my group, so I’ll personally guide you through both courses.” I felt a secret thrill—my first impression of Jake had been good anyway. He took me to change into workout clothes. His strong hand gripped my wrist; my back pressed tightly against his chest. It had been so long since I’d felt a man’s raw strength. Richard was no slouch in bed, but we’d barely been intimate these past months—and I’m a woman with a high sex drive. The contact made me tense. Jake sensed it and whispered in my ear: “Relax, Mrs. Sophia. A woman’s body should be soft like water. These warm-ups are meant to fully loosen you up.” It made sense. But every move caused my hips to accidentally brush against his bulge, sending tingles through me. I took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, telling myself it was just normal training—don’t overthink it. Yet I couldn’t ignore his heavy breathing in my ear. Jake’s calloused fingers slid slowly from my arms down to my waist. “Most women are sensitive around the waist—relax it properly.” He gently kneaded as he spoke. I bit my lip, trying not to let him notice my reaction. If I went to the bathroom right now, I’d probably find myself soaked. The shameful physical response embarrassed and frustrated me, yet I couldn’t wait for the next move. “Alright, your body is fully relaxed now.” Warm-up finally over. I exhaled in relief, tiny beads of sweat on my forehead. Jake smiled. “Mrs. Sophia, do you not exercise much? You seem winded already.” I answered his teasing honestly: “Yeah, I’ve been slacking. I might even sign up for your regular gym later.” After a short break we began the official flexibility training. Since I’d paid for VIP, I had a private training room, which let me relax more. Jake had me lie flat on the mat, then gently spread my legs. I resisted a little. “Mrs. Sophia, relax. Only with enough flexibility can you do advanced positions.” He sounded completely professional, but my face burned. He adjusted me carefully while applying light pressure. Enduring the embarrassment, I let him position me—and strangely felt a thrill of submission. Jake pressed on both sides of my knees, forcing my thighs outward. 4 The tearing pain made me gasp: “Ahh, Coach, no more…” A sly glint flashed in his eyes: “You have to train your body to be soft enough—only then will your husband like it.”

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