Learning to Yield (Power Exchange Academy - Submissive Center/Master's School) (2 page)

She gasped, panted, and began to moan as she felt her pleasure building. She was going to come, right here on a crowded train. She had to stop. Had to...

But the long, skilled fingers kept going.

Finally she threw her head back. "Please..."

"Please
what
?" His breath was hot against her ear, his voice heavy with desire. It only turned her on more.

She didn't know how to answer. Please what? Did she want him to stop? She moaned helplessly. No, she did not. She wanted release - needed it.

She arched her back. Rubbed her ass against him as he worked his fingers in and out of her with delicious friction. "Please, let me..." She breathed.

"You will come when I tell you to come." It was a statement; a simple matter of fact. When he said it, she felt his cock twitch against her, and he squeezed her waist a little harder. A shivery thrill went through her, and she whimpered in response.

His fingers moved inside her, faster now, thrusting and curling, stroking her inner walls, finding her secret places. No one had ever touched her like this - so masterfully, so commanding.

Ashley groaned, a little too loudly, and bit down on her lower lip to keep quiet. She was close - so close. But she couldn't...

He slipped his fingers out of her, and went back to her clit, now rubbing it hard and fast. Intense shocks of pleasure ran through her and her knees began to buckle - luckily her stranger supported her, held her close and steady.

She turned her head, wanting to hold on to him, to embrace and kiss him. She wanted him inside her - here, now. But he held her still, not letting her turn. His fingers mercilessly worked her clit.

Moaning and almost crying with frustration, she threw her head back against his shoulder and squeezed her thighs together in an effort to hold off her climax. She didn't know why, but she wanted to wait - had to wait - for his permission.

An answering sound from the stranger - a growl of pleasure. "Mmm, yes. You were made for this." 

She could only whimper.

"I want you to come, beautiful." He said. "Come for me now."

That was all it took. Ashley cried out and bucked against him as a furious climax overtook her. Her whole body shuddered and tensed under his hands. He held her tight through it, his fingers slowing their action - circling on her sensitive clit, making her shake.

As her pleasure ebbed, her awareness returned and she remembered where they were. She opened her eyes and looked up, in time to see a couple of people hurriedly look away.

The stranger took his fingers away.

Panting and weak, her face burning with embarrassment, Ashley pulled her skirt down. He still held her, and, somehow, she was grateful for the support as she leaned against him.

His sizable bulge still pressed against her. His breathing was heavy and she could feel his body heat through the layers of their clothes.

In a moment, he nuzzled against the top of her head again. He brought his fingers up in front of her. Ashley could see them glistening with wetness - with her own fluids.

Before she could protest, he stroked her cheek - and then touched his fingers to her lips. She could feel the moisture on them, and smell her own scent.

She knew what he wanted.

There was no fight in her. Trembling, she opened her lips. She raised her hand and held onto his wrist as he put first one finger in her mouth, then the other.

She closed her lips firmly around them, and sucked, using her tongue to lick and clean them. Tasting herself on him was surprisingly erotic. It was like a reminder of pleasure, a wicked and secret thing.

When she was done, he stroked her cheek again. "Good girl." It was like praise given to a pet - but it pleased her. Gave her a warm feeling. She leaned into his caress.

They rode in silence for one minute more, Ashley not daring to move. She just stared down at her feet, her hands on his where they had encircled her waist. She wanted to get away, run away from these people who had probably seen or at least heard her display. Yet somehow, she felt she had to savor the moment.

The stranger moved first, pulling away as the train slowed. "This is my stop."

He pressed something into her hand, and she crumpled it in her fingers, holding it against her chest.

She felt his absence keenly as he moved away, leaving the carriage along with a flow of other passengers. Some of them shot Ashley a look as they left, causing her face to burn even hotter. She had gotten very loud at the end there. She wondered how much they had seen.

She kept her head down, letting strands of her disheveled hair fall over her face, and put the ear-buds back in. Her knees were still weak, so she held onto a pole and leaned against it for support.

As she waited for the next stop, she absently traced a finger over her lips, then ran her tongue around them slowly. She could still taste her own arousal.

A
shley walked through her door slightly late, having taken longer than usual to walk the few blocks from the station to her door.

Relieved to be able to finally take off her shoes, she tossed them toward the couch. She sighed with relief as her bare feet sank into the carpet.

With a start, she remembered the business card she had been given. She opened her bag and started frantically searching, finding the card amongst the napkins, lip gloss and various sales receipts.

She hadn't even looked at the card before stuffing it into her bag. It was simple, in plain white. Printed in its center was a URL. It was nondescript, giving her no idea what the site might contain. Frowning, she tossed the card onto the kitchen bench. Probably some scam or something. Maybe she'd look at it later.

As she stood at the fridge and spooned yoghurt from the container, her thoughts lingered on her encounter on the train. Her panties were still wet, serving as a somewhat uncomfortable reminder.

What she needed was a nice, hot bath.

In the bedroom, she paused in front of her full-length mirror. Her legs really did look nice in the stockings.

Ashley stood still for a minute and really looked at herself. Her dark hair was still a little messy, her face flushed. Her skirt hugged her hips and emphasized her waist and the round swell of her ass. Normally, she wore minimizing bras, but her new one pushed her breasts up, creating deep cleavage. The lacy blouse was taut across her breasts, the buttons straining slightly.

Ashley tilted her head at her own reflection. Did she... actually look sexy? And was it simply the clothes, or the fact that she'd just let a complete stranger give her an orgasm in public? Anyway, it had been so long since she'd felt truly desirable, it was a welcome feeling.

Her bath ready, she sank into the hot water with a smile on her face. Leaning back and letting the fragrant bubbles caress her skin, Ashley let out a long sigh.

She wondered what she would tell Rebecca. Was this even the sort of thing you could tell your friends about? Secret encounters were one thing, when you had a bathroom stall or dark closet to hide in. But on public transport? In the middle of a crowd? She wasn't sure she could admit it to anyone.

It had been sexy, though.
God
, it was sexy.

Just thinking about it, remembering the sound of the stranger's voice, hot and heavy, made Ashley's heart beat a little faster.

She allowed herself to indulge in the memory, her wet hands wandering down over her body as she pictured herself in the arms of the anonymous man, his fingers working on her, his commanding voice in her ear. And yes, even the thrill of the possibility of being discovered.

.

Later, Ashley sat at her laptop, her mouth hanging open in shocked disbelief as she scrolled down the page. She didn't know what she'd been expecting - but it wasn't this.

The first page was a short introduction.

The Power Exchange Academy – Submissive Center

Trainers of First Class Submissives and Slaves

Training women through the basics of submission and service, to advanced techniques and disciplines.

There were photos of students - submissives - in all sorts of compromising situations. They were tied up with elaborate knots, being spanked or whipped, dressed in leather, lingerie or nothing at all. But then there were also pictures of students sitting at neat rows of desks paying careful attention to a lecture.

She had heard of BDSM before, had treated it with mild interest, but never delved into it. It was always something
other
people did.

Somehow she'd always imagined the "lifestyle" the domain of thin, outgoing, beautiful girls and commanding older men. The women in the photos came in all shapes and sizes.

Despite this, the submissives all had something in common. They were all striking, even those who were not traditionally beautiful. There was just something about them. Some look of deep inner peace and satisfaction. They were poised and graceful, self-assured.

She clicked on the “Staff” page. There was a small cast of dominants, mostly male. Not paying much attention, she skimmed over their photos and introductions. Then she stopped with a gasp.

Right at the bottom of the page was a handsome man, dark-haired with a sexy smattering of stubble and wire-rimmed glasses. He was immediately familiar.

His name was Evan, and as well as being a trainer for the Master's School (the other half of the Power Exchange Academy, it seemed), he was a “talent scout”.

Ashley sat back against the couch, taking a deep breath and letting it out. She was still wrapped in a towel from her bath, even though her skin had dried long ago. She shivered and wrapped the towel tightly around her.

What was it about her that made this Evan guy think she would be interested in such a thing? That she might be submissive – not only that, but interested enough that she'd want to go and train for it?

Still curious, she looked through the rest of the site until she found a description of the Academy's services.

The introductory classes focused on general expectations for submissives, such as grooming and hygiene, dress, etiquette, speech, and included interviews and questionnaires, as well as fitting for clothing such as corsets, harnesses cuffs and collars.

She kept reading.

There were beginner's classes, and then students graduated onto more intensive training. There wasn't much detail about that part, except that along the way, students were assessed for three levels. Non or casual submissive, submissive, or slave.

Ashley heard a shocked little laugh escape from her own lips. It was almost unbelievable. Slave? Who would want to be a
slave
? What did that even mean, in modern terms?

A growing part of her wanted to find out.

She spent the rest of the evening curled up in a blanket with her laptop, reading everything she could find on the topic of BDSM. Some of it was confusing, some conflicting. Some was frankly arousing. In the end she thought she had a slightly better idea what it was all about.

Well... she
had
made the resolution to be more adventurous - even if this hadn't been exactly what she'd had in mind. What was the harm in looking into it a little further?

She sent off a quick email to the Academy explaining that she had been given the business card and wanted to inquire about their classes. Then she snapped the laptop closed and pushed it away from her.

Then she let out a little giggle of disbelief. Had she really just done that?

She sighed, feeling unbelievably tired. She would go to bed, hopefully sleep well, and in the morning she'd have a good laugh at everything that had happened today.

.

Ashley slept until late, got up and stood at the refrigerator drinking juice from the carton. She stole a glance at her laptop, which was sitting on the coffee table where she'd left it. Everything she'd read last night came back to her in a flood.

Unable to help herself, she sat down and went straight to check her email. She wasn't expecting to have heard back from the school so soon, yet there was the reply - sitting innocently in her inbox.

Miss Kensington,

We are glad you decided to inquire, as our scout spoke very highly of you. We would be pleased to offer you a placement in our scholarship program, so this course will be free to you if you wish to attend.

Should you decide to accept, present yourself at the following address on Monday at 8pm. Beginner classes go for two-three hours, Mon-Thurs nights. Refreshments are provided.

Wear a skirt or dress above knee length, and closed-toe heels at least four inches high. Your hair should be loose. Wear no cosmetics or jewelry. After the introductory class - if you choose to return - a uniform will be provided for you.

The address was close enough to walk. Well, perhaps not if she had to wear heels. Maybe she could wear her sneakers and change into the required shoes when she got there.

Wait - was she actually thinking of doing this?

She looked over the bizarre instructions, wondering at the reasoning behind it all. No makeup or jewelry? Ashley didn't necessarily have a problem with that, but wasn't the point of all this to be... well, sexually desirable?

She couldn't deny that it all made her very curious.

The letter was signed: Ms West. Quickly, Ashley went back to the Academy's website and found their staff page. Ms West was one of the two women listed. In her photo, her black hair was pulled back in a severe high ponytail.

She wore blood-red lipstick and a black skirt and jacket, and held a thin rod or cane in her hands. She could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty, it was impossible to tell. She was a very striking woman, if slightly intimidating.

Ashley sat for a long while with the reply box open, paralyzed with indecision. There was nothing to lose, really, and she was curious... very much so. But was it for her? She'd never really considered herself a submissive. Somewhat quietly spoken, non confrontational maybe. But as far as sex went, her limited experience in the bedroom had been decidedly vanilla.