A Summer of Training [Fiction]

[CleverGirl]

Here's the first bit. I'll post more later, when I have the time.


"Girls like me," I whispered quietly to myself, "don't do stupid thingd like this." But I pressed the doorbell anyway. The volume was exaggerated by my fear, and once more I questioned myself. Everything I had ever been taught about relationships was against this. What the fuck was I doing? "The University overestimated my intelligence," I mumbled.
I looked over my shoulder and watched the cab pull away. I could have waved it down again, asked the driver to take me back to the airport. But I just watched it pull away, waiting for it to disappear, so that it was no longer an option. So that this may be a little easier.
The door creaked opened and my head snapped back. At first, nothing happened. Then, a calm steady voice told me to "come in," and I obeyed, pulling two suitcases on wheels after me. Once inside, my Master shut the door. And then, suddenly it hit me. The most bizarre awkward feeling I ever had. In college, I was the most in control chick you'd ever see. I had the academic world spinning around my little finger. Research, recommendations, grades...I was the master of all of these. I took the initiative in everything. Now, little miss perfect didn't even know where to put her suitcases. Or even if she should ask.
I just stood there, shifting awkwardly, thinking awkwardly. As I shifted, something fell out of my pocket and fell on to the ground. I jumped when I heard it clink on the wooden floor, disrupting my thought process and the silence. I stared at it for a moment, then moved foward to pick it up. But I stopped short. I was wearing a mini-skirt. Master was right behind me. If I bent over, he'd see everything. I knew that this wasn't anything to be freaked about. But being a perfect little angel, I was always concious of what may get exposed in public. I didn't want people to think I was sleazy. And habits are hard to break. So I stood back up again.
"Pick it up," the voice behind me said. Slowly, I bent over and picked it up, exposing my ass, in its cherry-red thong, to him. I could hear his footsteps approaching me, goose bumps of fear and uncertainty breaking out on my body, as I came back to a standing position. He circled me slowly, looking me over for a moment, then stood in front of me. Smirking. "Good little sluts don't hesitate to show their Masters their ass, do they?" I shook my head, terrified of what he may do. I'd been here less then two minutes. Was he going to punish me already?

[Zeromus]

You're doing a great job, I especially say this in regards to how you've set up the plot.

[Officelover]

The contast between 'the most in control girl' and the confused slave is a very interesting choice. Keep at it!

[x.Emma.x]

You haven't hurried into it and you've plotted it well. Quite possibly already one the best, if not the best story here. Simply fantastic, already. Hoping you maintain this excellence.

- Emma xx.

[youngscotsman]

i agree with Officelover the contrast is great,, are you going to develop on this idea?

[CleverGirl]

Glad you guys like it. (That's my proud face). Okay, here is the second installment. It will probably be the last until tuesday. I have a huge ass exam coming up...why did I procrastinate? Whyyyyy!?!?! But now I will take a break from studying and do some writting.

"And why don't good sluts hesitate to show their Masters their ass?" he asked quietly.

For some odd reason, my brain stalled on me. Perhaps it was the awkardness of the situation. But one sharp look put me back in my place. "Because good sluts understand that their ass belongs to their Master," I answered quietly, taking in a shallow breathe to calm myself. "See?" I thought. "You can do this. No need to panic. Now calm down, girl."

There was a huge grin growing lengthwise across my Master's face. A huge intimidating grin. And I forgot to not panic. "Helpless" wasn't a feeling I was used to having, but that huge ass grin on his domineering face made me feel tiny and vulnerable. I looked down and caught my hands trembling involuntarily. Quickly, I tightened the grip on my suitcases so the movemnet would be less noticiable.

"And what else belongs to your Master?" He was doing this on purpose. I could see it in his eyes. He knew how totally freaked I was, how unused to the environment of submission I was in. So he was forcing me to face this situation by explaining it to him. He wanted me to admit to myself my place, as his slave, by explaining it out loud---and hearing myself say it out loud. He knew that by saying these things out loud, I would be forced to leave the internal world swirling around in my head, the place where I was the dominant, where I judged the world through my own biases. He was forcing me to leave all that behind to come out into the open. He was making me come before him. He was directing my thoughts towards the answers to his questions, to his complete domination, away from the "Little Miss I'm in Control" inside my head, who was telling me this was a dumb idea.

"Everything," I replied, fighting it. The resistance did not go unnoticed.

"Everything? My dear little slut is smarter than that. Surely she can give her Master a less vague answer?"

I took a deep breathe. I wasn't going to get out of this. " My pussy, and ass, breasts, and mouth all belong to my Master, to do with as he pleases."

"And...?" he prompted, still grinning, fully aware of the mindset he was forcing me into.

" My eyes, my ears, my lips, all belong to my Master. I will look upon what he bids me to. I will listen only to that which he permits me to hear. I will kiss anything he commands me to, even to my displeasure. I will sit only as he intructs, I will speak only as he wishes me to. My whole self is my Master's, his property, to use as he pleases, at all times, and in all places." By now, his grin was as large as it could get.

"That's a good girl," he told me, patting me head gently. "Now get down on your knees like a good slave."

I obeyed, knowing what was coming. I heard his footsteps leave the room. Soon, he'd be back, back with the collar I'd promised to wear this summer. This was my last chance to back out. While he was gone, I could race out the door. I'd call back Pablo an have him bring round the cab. "But that's not what a good girl does," I thought. The logical side on my brain reacted to this first thought with a little irritation at first, but then it came to the only conclusion it could. If that was really my mind set, if deep down I wanted to be the perfect little slave for my Master, then there was no reason to leave. Even if I was scared. Even if I was terrified and lost out of my mind. Even if my heart was beating faster than it ever had in my entire life.

The footsteps approached and I stiffened, my heart beating even more madly. I felt so out of place, so completely exposed and...and...terrified. I was on my hands and knees, looking down at the floor, feeling the cool hardwood. Everything was his. It hit me so hard, I trembled. At any moment he could push me forward and strip me. He could flog me for any reason he saw fit. He could forbid me from moving for hours. I became concious of the fact that my ass was sticking out slightly in the air, but I didn't move it down. It wasn't mine anymore.

I heard him kneel in front of me. He lifted up my chin so that I was forced to look into his eyes. The power, the confidence, overwhelmed me. I whimpered. "Whose going to be a good little slave for her Master?"

"I am, Sir," I said a bit shakily.

He grinned. "Good girl. Now, lift up your hair."

I pushed up my hair up so he could place the shiny metal collar around my neck. It was silver, with some light padding on the inner circle so that my neck would be protected. A small metal hoop dangled from the front of it, for a leash, I suspected. He pulled out a tiny key and locked it in the back. The small echoing "clink" finished it for me. I was his now.