Learning to Yield (Power Exchange Academy - Submissive Center/Master's School) (3 page)

A memory suddenly came back to her. A couple of years ago, she'd read something in a book that made her curious. Something about bondage, which had sounded incredibly sexy. It filled her head full of fantasies, and she'd gone out and bought a beautiful silk scarf for the purpose of experimentation.

Then she'd waited for Mark to get home. She'd enticed him into taking her to bed, then taken the scarf out of her hair and suggested he use it to bind her hands to the bed posts.

What had happened then? She couldn't remember - only that he hadn't done it. Possibly another argument, or merely confused questions. Maybe
that
had been when she'd given up hope of any sexual adventure.

Ashley shook her head, frowning. Thoughts of Mark only made her angry. She realized she'd been chewing on her lower lip.

Her fingers moved quickly on the keyboard as she typed up a line in reply.
Thank you, Ms West. I will be there.

A
shley clasped her hands tightly together in her lap in an effort to disguise her trembling. She crossed her legs and jiggled one foot unconsciously, brimming with nervous energy.

It was somewhat relieving that most of the girls sitting to either side of her looked just as scared.

The girl on the left must have been about Ashley's age, small and blonde with big, watery brown eyes. She had smiled shyly at Ashley and said a quiet hello as she'd sat down, her pretty bow-shaped mouth turned up at the corners.

The girl sitting on her right side was a brunette. She had had her eyes on her phone the entire time and hadn't said a word.

There were two others who had just come in. One, a tall long-legged blonde, had clearly not obeyed the "no makeup" rule and had come in with red lipstick and a lot of dark eyeliner. She looked beautiful though, in her short black dress, and walked in her six-inch heels as though she did it all day, every day.

She hadn't gotten a good look at the last woman. She seemed a little older, and was wearing a yellow summer dress.

Ashley herself was wearing her accursed four-inch heels again, with the pencil skirt she'd worn to work.

She'd dug another blouse from the depths of her closet. It had once been her favorite, but these days it hugged her figure a little closer than she liked. She couldn't help tugging at it awkwardly from time to time, pulling the hem down or adjusting the neckline.

Maybe she should have taken Rebecca up on her offer of help on a shopping trip – though shopping was one of her least favorite things to do. Ashley hated looking at herself in the mirrors, trying on clothes that refused to fit in one area or another.

The five of them waited, mostly silent, fidgeting and stealing glances at each other. Finally, the door swung open, and they all looked up expectantly.

A young woman came out, but it wasn't the teacher Ashley was expecting. This woman carried a clipboard, and wore nothing but a pair of black stilettos and a black collar, the rest of her stark naked. It was an amazing sight here in such a plain, businesslike lobby.

Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her body was lean, her skin smooth and tanned, and completely hairless. She was pretty, but what drew Ashley's attention was the way she moved - with practiced, purposeful grace, as though completely comfortable and at ease.

She smiled warmly around at the prospective students. "Hi there," she said. "My name is Juliette. I'm an assistant here. May I take your names?”

She looked at them each in turn, writing down the names as they were given.

Ashley barely registered the others' names, waiting for her turn, mesmerized by the way the assistant stood there with such poise.

She was last to give her name. “Ashley Kensington.” She had intended to sound confident but her voice came out as a squeak.

The assistant gave her a small, understanding smile. “The professors are waiting, so if you will all follow me in and take a seat."

Well, it was now or never. Ashley swallowed hard and stood up to follow Juliette. Her feet were already starting to hurt, and she wobbled a little in her heels as she took her first steps. She cursed under her breath, wishing she were as graceful as the young assistant, who's naked behind swayed seductively as she entered through the door to the next room.

There were seven chairs in a row - more than enough for the five students, who all sat down next to each other.

The professors were seated behind a long table at the front of the room, talking amongst themselves in low voices. None of them looked up at the students.

Ashley recognized Ms West. She looked over at the two others. There was a tall, handsome but intimidating man with salt-and-pepper hair. Next to him sat a young, solemn man with shoulder-length hair slicked back from his face. It was he that drew Ashley's eye, and she looked at him for as long as she dared.

He sat leaning back in his chair, muscular arms crossed, swiveling ever so slightly from side to side as he raised his head and looked out over the students. His eyes met hers for the briefest second, and Ashley quickly looked away, feeling a blush already begin to heat her face.

"Professors," said Juliette in her lilting, pleasant voice. "I have five of the new students. The other two are late." She approached the place where the teachers sat, placed her clipboard on the bench and gracefully knelt on the floor beside Ms. West's chair.

To Ashley's surprise, Ms. West patted her primly on the head. "Thank you, Juliette." She said, and Juliette all but purred, leaning into her hand and looking extremely satisfied.

Ms. West took the clipboard, and stood up to address the class. “We have two no-shows.” She said. “So this will be a small group.”

As if on cue, the side door banged open and a flustered looking young woman entered.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, through panting breaths. She hurried through the room and looked about to take a seat.

Ms. West cleared her throat loudly, halting the girl in her tracks. “And who might you be?”

The girl licked her lips. “Um, Lydia.” She smiled hesitantly. “I'm sorry I'm late. I had car trouble.”

“You will not be joining us for classes this time, Lydia.” Ms. West said, making unmistakeable crossing-out motions with her pen on the clipboard.

“I'm sorry?”

“You are late,” said Ms. West, “already proving you do not have the right amount of dedication to this program. You are welcome to apply again, perhaps for next month's beginner classes – if you decide to take this seriously.”

Lydia paused uncertainly. “But -”

Ms. West raised her voice just enough to sound mildly threatening. “That will be all.”

Ashley watched, wringing her hands together, as Lydia looked first confused, then angry.

Her brows knit together and she drew in a deep breath, looking as though she wanted to shout back at the professor. But then she simply pursed her lips tightly together, turned around and stormed out of the room.

The timid blonde girl sitting next to Ashley jumped in her seat as the doors slammed.

Ms. West waited for the noise to be over, then gave a tight little smile at the students. “Now that that interruption is over,” she said, “let me introduce myself. You will call me Ms. West. To my left -” she gestured, “are Mr. Barrett and Mr. Morgan. You may address them as “Professor", or "Sir", unless they indicate otherwise.”

At a quick nod from Ms. West, Juliette rose to her feet and collected a stack of paper from the counter. She came down among the students and began to pass out stapled sheets.

Ashley looked down at hers, taking it in her trembling fingers. It was a simple questionnaire, a list with check-boxes. Just glancing at some of the things in the list made the blush creep back into her cheeks.

All the things she would expect were at the beginning of the list – bondage, discipline, spanking, whipping, humiliation and servitude. Then came things she hadn't considered, like blindfolds, toys, anal stimulation, caging, orgasm control... the list went on.

“Before we continue,” said Ms. West, “please check the appropriate boxes. Indicate whether you have experienced, would like to experience, or do not wish to experience each activity. If you are unsure, leave the boxes empty. You have ten minutes.”

Despite her preparatory online research, some of the options on the page completely puzzled her. Body modification? Suspension?

But one option practically jumped out at her: exhibitionism. With a secret little smile, she checked her first “yes” box.

Ashley puzzled over the many choices. Truth be told, she was undecided on most of them, because she hadn't tried much of it. The blush remained, burning her face, as she bent low to the paper and tried to check as many boxes as she could. When the ten minutes was up, many remained empty.

Juliette collected the papers and gave them to Ms. West, who put them on the desk, coming to stand before the class. She wore a suit with black trousers and jacket over stiletto heels. Her dark hair was pinned back from her head in a severe bun. She looked a bit like the stereotypical strict professor or librarian.

"Now," she said. "You are all here because you have something in common. But you all no doubt have different reasons. Perhaps you are exploring a new relationship with a dominant who has sent you here to learn the skills you need. Perhaps there has always been a burning need inside you - a desire to yield to the right Master or Mistress. Perhaps you are curious, and the idea of submissive training simply appeals to you in a way you can't yet articulate."

She looked at each of the students in turn, with a tight little smile. "These are all fine, and as this course goes on, you will decide where you fit in. Or even if this is not for you, after all."

Juliette was passing out a new stack of papers.

"These print-outs contain a wealth of information," said Ms. West, "About the Academy, and about domination and submission in general. I will expect you to read them at home, before the next class, and think about the subjects within. There is also some paperwork, which you will hand in tomorrow night."

She gave the students a moment to look at the pages, rewarding Juliette with another quick pat on the head.

"These are the rules." She continued. "Be respectful to your trainer above all else. Address them with their preferred title, and speak only in turn. If you have a question during class, raise your hand and wait to be called on.

Every Dominant has different preferences, and that is something you will have to sort out with your future masters. Our purpose here is to teach you the basics - the things you will be expected to know when you finally give yourself to him or her.

In classes, you will make eye contact with your trainer while he is speaking, and while you are speaking to him - unless he indicates otherwise. Your eyes are a gift for your Dominant and you must learn to exercise control over them.

You may be bruised or temporarily marked by your trainer. Never permanently or severely injured.

Learning to place trust in your trainer is an important step. There are no "safe-words" here. Safe-words are a good idea for people you don't know well.

This is not play. It is training - training to learn to trust and do as you are told. You are giving up your control when you enter these doors. However -" She paused, tilting her chin to look at each seated girl, "you are free to stop, and leave whenever you wish, if you decide this is not for you. Simply tell the trainer, and turn in your collar."

She turned, nodding at the assistant, who gathered something up off the counter and passed them to Ms. West.

"Training here will lay the foundation for any master-sub relationship you desire in the future. Our graduates are in high demand, and our slaves are sought by some of the most affluent, respectable and even famous individuals in the world."

She held up her hand, revealing a fistful of white ribbons. "These are your training collars. The first level is white, as you can see. I expect you to wear these at all times - even when not in class."

There was a nervous giggle from one girl, and the others shifted uncomfortably.

"Of course," she said, with a slight twist to her mouth, "we accept that you may not be able to display them openly at your place of work. So feel free to tie them around your ankle, wrist, or other out of the way place. All that matters at this stage is that
you
know it's there.

As with a proper collar, the purpose is to help you keep in mind - at all times - your position and your training. Wearing your ribbons, you will be mindful of your manner, your posture, and your speech. Understand?"

She paused while the girls all nodded. Ashley stared at the white ribbons dangling from the woman's clenched fist. There was a strange little shivery feeling in her chest. What would it be like wearing a collar all day: an ever-present, visible reminder of your master?

Ms. West continued. "Do not lose your collars! If you arrive without one around your neck, you will not be admitted to classes."

Ms. West paced before the line of students, commanding their complete attention.

"During the training, students will have the option to mix with dominants from the Master's school. After training, we can assist you in finding a dominant that suits you. Slaves are another matter, but we will discuss that later."

Having finished her speech, Ms. West cleared her throat and looked over at the other trainers, who were sitting silently. She nodded, and the tall salt-and-pepper haired man stood up and made his way to the front.

"Now, you will each be called in turn. Come up and present yourself to Mr. Barrett Karen?"

The brunette who had stared at her phone in the lobby stood up. She smoothed her skirt, picked up her handbag and walked to the front. She stood in front of the tall Dom, looking up at him.

He stared at her for a long moment, until she began to look uncomfortable. She shifted her weight to one leg, shrugging her bag up on her shoulder.

"Put the bag down." He immediately said.

Karen frowned slightly, but did as she was told, bending and dropping it to the floor.