The School Ch. 02

“What exactly is the problem?” Laura almost screamed. “I have the money and you have a service that I am willing to pay for. How can there be a problem? I’ll pay double.”

The look on Martin’s face infuriated Laura. It wasn’t arrogance, but it was his insufferable confidence and that she seemed so predictable. The infuriation was aggravated by his ability to make her feel her behaviour and reaction were always wrong.

She felt like a mouse in a maze and that he knew all the short cuts. She was being led around the maze like a small child until she found the route that he already knew. But it was the enigma of the control that made her hot with anger and frustration, and hot with pure lust, wanting him to pound her like a rag doll.

“It is not a matter of money. Your views and attitudes are from your generation, just as mine are from mine. However, for the purposes of this school, the differences in our attitudes and expectations may be irreconcilable.

“What you will accept as a normal standard of behaviour — and so would many of your generation — I will not. You will have many challenges in this school if you decide to enroll. The added challenge of meeting my expectations may be beyond you, and may limit the degree to which you attain the peace you seek. In the exceptionally short time that you have been here — a mere few hours — you probably believe already that you have experienced a change in your perception of the world. It is, however, very small compared to the change that I would require if I were to take control of you and your group.

“Many coming to this school do not seek the fullness and the richness that can be achieved; most people today seek a much shallower level of reward.”

At this Martin could feel Laura bristle and stand more erect, as though she was seeking to attain some dominance herself. Martin simply smiled as he continued.

“I know that is a big generalization, but I believe it to be true. Looks, physical appearance, and a hard body are taken as being much more important than other factors. Our clients — or students — are generally much happier with younger, fitter, and less demanding leaders compared to old taskmasters who only seek perfection.”

At this Laura really did show her displeasure. She had rarely been so thoroughly challenged in one sentence by anyone. It was made even worse because Laura didn’t believe that Martin could possibly understand or appreciate her values or attitudes, and that she really would be in control when he finally did. After all, one didn’t become successful in a modern competitive business world without determination. Laura knew that she wasn’t the shallow, self-centered bitch for which she’d been taken.

“Consider all those singing competitions for made-up groups. Once they’ve been selected, what happens? They get dragged off to a gym so they lose weight and tighten up so they look good on the screen. Forget how they sound when they sing. Appearance outweighs substance. Sinatra spent many hours with his head underwater, learning to control his breathing. Today, it’s who has the best video. Besides, there are other issues that suggest that another leader would be the best choice.”

“Who is Sinatra?” asked a bewildered Laura, somewhat confused over the direction the conversation had taken. Martin snorted and ignored the question.

“Before you commit to our program here, I think that it may be wise for you to fully examine the commitment that you are making. Perhaps when you better understand the program you may appreciate that there are better people more suited to helping you.” Martin paused for effect and then continued. “Let me show you through the facility and you’ll get a better idea what we offer. Please follow me.”

With that, he turned on his heel and Laura could do little but follow him out of his office.

As they passed his secretary’s desk, Laura noted, in a somewhat disapproving tone, “I see that your secretary is still missing.”

Martin took a right turn down the corridor.

“We run a very flexible operation. I trust my staff and allow them to do their job in a manner that best suits them. If Nicole wants to sit by the pool all day, that’s okay by me as long as everything runs smoothly. If it doesn’t, then I expect her or them to fix it — and minimize the possibility of it happening again. Often, blame and control are energy-draining activities and not cost effective. She has only been here for six months, but already she has made me feel almost redundant, and if that means she is not tied to her desk, then so be it. I employ independent, creative people, not children who require a wet nurse and are too scared and intimidated to make a decision.”

The unattractive tone of disgust in his voice at her implied criticism was almost frightening.

Now her management style was being challenged.

“Why is ‘redundant’ good?” she asked, totally baffled at the logic of this statement.

They continued at a rather brisk pace that challenged Laura, and stopped at a lift door. It opened and they went in. Martin pushed the ‘P’ button and continued talking as the lift descended.

“Simple. If I’m not tied down with the boring details of the daily operation then I can focus on matters that are more interesting and challenging — and more important to the quality and future of this business. Before Nicole arrived I seemed to be endlessly tied down in complex issues such as the color of the toilet paper that should be used in the guests’ rooms. She decided that Housekeeping could investigate such matters, leaving more free time for me. She has been able to do that with so many issues that I now believe she is more important to the business than I am.” He turned and looked Laura straight in the eye.

“Ever see a company become lost and so drowned in trivia that they can’t see the forest for the trees? They are so busy surviving on a daily basis that they can’t plan long-term. Unseen and undetected competitors suddenly appear and all is lost. Now that I can focus, I’m enjoying the role more, and I am happier. I come to the job each day with more energy, focus, and enthusiasm.”

Again he paused and looked directly at Laura. “Perhaps there is a lesson in that for all of us.” And again his voice was in that same unattractive tone.

The lift came to a stop and they took another right hand turn. Laura was faced with a massive swimming pool set in rather spectacular landscaping. Around the pool were some of the most attractive people that Laura had ever seen. It was almost like a Coke-a-Cola commercial with perfect bodies everywhere. The females were in various stages of undress, and, interestingly enough, some wearing nothing but bikini tops, their nakedness shaved bare below.

“Why the bottomless look?” asked the intrigued Laura.

“Many of the activities in the pool can be strenuous, and unsupported boobs can be very uncomfortable when they’re being slapped around. The bra is logical. They are shaved because that is a requirement of their leader. They may also be bare by choice or because they’ve been forbidden by their leader to cover themselves.”

Laura’s jaw dropped and she looked at Martin in pure disbelief.

“What happens if they refuse?”

“They are asked to leave the school and no money is refunded. This is all part of the contract that each signs when they enroll in the school — adults have made a conscious choice to experience a new lifestyle. For some it is the novelty, or because of problems they face at home. For others it is the desire to experience something naughty and exciting, and there are those who genuinely love the lifestyle compared to other types of holiday.

“We have a resort in Russia where people sleep on straw beds with thin, coarse woollen blankets and are fed gruel and water. There are even mock killings of the hired help. For a large extra payment they are allowed to sleep on a ‘bed of nails’. Some people feel there is a need to understand the change and be taught to appreciate the advantages of a different lifestyle. That is why this is a school and not a resort.

“Look at the brunette on your left. Her name is Katrina. She is sitting with her legs open and she is completely exposed. To be able to do that in a group or men and women takes great confidence and courage. In fact, she is one of our great success stories. When she initially came here she was introverted and almost scared of the other sex. Now she has learned to appreciate her sexuality, and her naturally submissive nature and has embraced her new lifestyle. She couldn’t be happier. She was grossly in debt before she started here, trying to buy happiness with money. She sold most of her possessions to get out of debt and now she very few of them, but she does have a feeling of complete comfort with her own body and her sexuality.”

Laura looked in the direction that Martin indicated. Katrina sat on a wooden outdoor lounge, slightly reclined, with each foot on the opposite corner of the horizontal section. In the heat of the sun, herer body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Her position relative to Laura meant that Laura was afforded a view directly between the brunette’s legs and was presented with a perfect picture of the magic triangle between them. The skin was completely bald and the dark crevice where the two folds met was highly visible. The sight was even more erotic as Katrina was wearing a bikini top, and this seemed to make the exposure of the lower section even more forbidden and exciting. She sat with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open, as though she was ready for a lover’s kiss.

Again Martin produced a question that was both unexpected, frightening and challenging. He dropped his voice.

“How would you feel if you were out there, completely exposed?”

Laura felt a wave of fear wash over her; her knees became wobbly, and the color drained from her face. What Martin saw was the color leaving her face and the wild startled look; it was enough answer for him.

“I see. It is interesting that so many women are ashamed of or even uncomfortable with their own bodies. They cover their bathing suit with towels and even find it unpleasant or unnerving to shower where they can see their own reflection in a mirror. Perhaps Katrina has learnt something that others have yet to learn.”

Martin raised his eyebrows at one the men whom Laura assumed to be one of the lifeguards. He came over and Martin introduced him as Max. They shook hands, and Laura couldn’t help but admire the masculine perfection that stood in front of her. Martin whispered something in Max’s ear and he left.

Laura watched as he went directly to the woman Martin had been talking about and said something to her. She immediately placed her feet flat on the ground each side of the lounge. This action had the affect of opening her legs even wider, and spreading her pussy lips a little more. She moved her right hand to the top of her thighs and started to gently massage the top of her pussy. Laura looked at Martin and then back at the woman. She raised her hand, pointed, and stuttered,

“She’s … ”

“Yes. And she appears to be quite good at it as she seems to be enjoying her efforts.”

The women’s hand was now making wider circles and applying more pressure. The palm of her hand was locked on the curve of her pelvis and her fingers moved across and around her pussy lips, firstly pushing them together and then separating them, such was the force applied. Moisture started to seep from the folds and the motion intensified. The rocking motion caused the beads of perspiration on her skin to roll down her tummy. Here they met her forearm which guided them across the smooth pelvic skin, and down between her legs. It gave the impression that her energy was being concentrated on the skin between her legs.

Laura watched, transfixed, but felt the secretions from her own pussy matching those of the brunette. Out of the corner of her eye, Laura noticed that one of the passers-by had stopped and was showing the same interest in Katrina’s activities as was Laura. The new observer was a stunning blonde about 6 feet tall with a classic 34 – 24 – 36 frame and generous ‘C’ cups to match. The object of their attention also noticed the tall blonde and moved her hand in even more outrageous circles.

Katrina’s other hand pushed the right bra cup aside and started to rub her breast and aggressively pinch the nipple. She removed the covering from the other side and repeated the massaging and pinching of the other. At the same time, her mouth opened just the slightest and the very tip of her pink tongue poked out, barely showing against the brunette’s mouth that had been painted a classic red lipstick. The tip stayed there for a few seconds and then her mouth opened wider, the tip sliding across the top lip where it was barely visible but all the more erotic because of the subtlety of the gesture. When the tip reached a corner it travelled even more slowly across the bottom lip.

Laura thought that it was one of the sexiest gestures that she had ever seen. The tall blonde must have thought so too, because she went over, bent down, and made contact with a full lip-to-lip forceful kiss. Katrina responded with equal force and the blonde moved her hand down between the other girl’s legs. As she did so, the brunette’s hand left her boob and went between the legs of the blonde. Laura had a perfect view as the blonde moved her hand down and inserted firstly one and then two fingers in to the brunette’s pussy.

Their kissing became more enthusiastic until Katrina’s hips started to buck. The blonde inserted another finger and then started to finger fuck the brunette. Almost withdrawing her hand, she then slammed it back into the open cunt while Katrina’s hips thrust up to meet the probing hand.

Standing there, Laura was spell-bound as she had never seen a woman do that to another woman; she had never seen women kiss with such passion and fire let alone use their fingers to excite each other in front of an audience. For a brief moment she wondered what it would be like to be one of the women, to actually feel the texture and moisture of the sex of another female. Would the liquid taste the same as hers? How much different would the bald skin feel compared to her hairy texture? What would it be like to touch another female with the understanding that hot open sex was involved?

Riding over these emotions was the revulsion at watching two women doing this — and doing it in public — and the disgust at the intensity of the emotions that she was experiencing. When the two women climaxed, she almost followed them. Certainly there was a strong smell that accompanied them, and Laura was sure there was liquid running down the inside of Katrina’s legs.

With a tremor in her voice and unable to mention what she had just seen, Laura tried to draw attention from the two women as they continued to gently caress each other.

“The lifeguards are rather attractive. Do you hand-pick them?”

“We don’t have lifeguards here. The men to whom you refer are the group leaders. You just met Max, the brunette’s leader and she must do everything he commands. That little show that I believe you enjoyed,” here Laura again went red as Martin continued, “occurred because I suggested the idea to Max. He agreed, gave the command, she naturally followed the instruction and we watched the performance. The added intervention of Sally, the blonde, in our little play was most unexpected and certainly beneficial.”

Laura refused to discuss the incident as she was still very confused and uncomfortable about her reaction to the complete performance. She was also feeling very scared as Martin seemed to be able to turn everything back on her. She was relieved to be saved from any need to respond when he continued.

“As you can see, our group leaders are all in the finest physical shape and present the best picture of today’s male. If you look closely, they do present the best ‘package’ of manliness that you could expect.” Martin stressed the word ‘package’, and Laura knew instantly what he meant.

The emphasis on this one word forced Laura to look at the brief bathers each was wearing, the swim suits barely constraining the muscle that was clearly outlined behind the thin nylon. Laura’s eyes moved from groin to groin as she quickly surveyed each male pelvis within the pool area. She couldn’t believe the size of the ‘packages’ these men carried; far larger than anything Laura everhad to contend with. One looked as though it was half erect, and the idea of the full size of the monster caused her nipples to harden and her pussy to start its secretions again. Almost subconsciously she actually pushed her pussy in the direction of her gaze. Her mouth started to open and a small sigh escaped as she imagined that body on top of her, pounding away with that monster cock in her tight pussy.

Martin noticed her reaction without comment, at least for a short time. Then, in a very soft voice, he leaned closer and spoke to her.

“These are the men that you decided would not suit you. Are you sure you made the correct choice?”

Again, there was that subtle intimidation, the suggestion that she had been foolish and silly. Certainly the obvious male power that these bodies demonstrated could not be discounted. They moved with the grace of animals looking over their claim, certain that no challenge to their pack existed. The attraction was timeless, the athleticism of the male to guarantee food and protection from competing males, to ensure the subservience of the female, a stark reminder that any resistance to their will is futile.

Historically, the absolute physical power of the male over the female is a guarantee that the more powerful one always gets what he wants. It is the same strength that reassures the female she will be safe as long as the male is around and happy. It was the obvious display of masculinity, the skin exposure, the package display, the message that each was sending of sex – not in the sense of fucking, but sex as in protection, breeding, and the raw basic urges of continuing the human race – that Laura was finding almost overwhelming. The stark contrast between Martin’s control and precision compared to the message these men were sending was deeply emotional for Laura.

As she looked at each one, she just wanted to fall backwards, spread her legs and drag him on top of her. The desire to feel his body thrusting into hers, to feel his breath on her skin, to hear the animal grunts accompanying each thrust; to feel the floor grab her skin as she was pushed along; to grab his back and try and pull more of him into her; to feel a big cock slam into her wet cunt and feel as though it was coming out of her mouth; the desire to feel him make that final slam and spew cum deep within her was overwhelming. The imagery was breathtakingly real, so real that Laura had difficulty in understanding exactly where she was. She made an attempt to cover her confusion and to support her earlier decision.

“No, you would never make me do what Max made Katrina do,” she said.

“Not only would I make you do that, I just made her do that.” Martin stated the obvious in a very authoritative tone.

Martin turned back and Laura followed him back to the lift. Her head was hurting and she was emotionally drained from the earlier experience in his office — his refusal to become involved, the behavior of the other people in the school, and the normality that had disappeared since she had first walked in to this weird building. Every one of her attitudes and beliefs had been confronted in a most aggressive fashion: her business beliefs, her sexuality, and even the concept of normalcy. She was the one usually in control; others conformed to her requirements – in bed and business. Here no-one played by those rules. Even the normal chain of command was lost in this place, secretaries telling managers how to run the business.

The lift door opened and this time they went up two floors. Martin interrupted her thoughts.

“This is our exercise area. We have several standard gyms where our guests exercise each day. This is part of the program and attendance is mandatory unless prevented by illness or another medical issue. The emphasis is not on physical fitness in terms of a tolerable fat percentage, but more of shaping the female body so that it is female — it has curves. Exercises are also designed to strengthen the muscles that are especially important for a woman during sex. She needs to be able to accept the thrust and power of the act, and our instructors plan sessions to improve muscles and strength for the more popular sex positions.”

“Yes, I noticed that all of the people in the pool looked stunning,” Laura commented. “I was wondering how much of that was the result of the exercise program that you had previously mentioned.”

Martin looked at her in dismay.

“Almost none of the appearance is due to the gym. All the ladies look good because they are comfortable with themselves and at ease in this place. Sure, they exercise and are careful about their diet. But here all can be honest with themselves. Consider a female such as you. In public you are expected to be a sweet virgin, as you are not married. You take small ladylike bites at the meal table and sit with one leg tucked back. Yet in the bedroom you are supposed to be able to swallow him whole.”

At this, Laura’s face went bright red and she interrupted without thought.

“I hardly ever do oral. It’s yucky.”

“You will here. Outside, the male spreads the legs of a few willing women and he is a stud. The female spreads her legs for a few men and she is a whore. Is it any wonder that females and sex are confused?

“I was reading one of those women’s magazines while I was waiting for the dentist once. It was providing dress advice for a girl starting work and it said that a short skirt was slutty, but a split was sexy. Here the girls are allowed to express their sexuality without criticism or ridicule. A guy sits with his legs spread and he is comfortable. If a female sits with her legs apart in pants its acceptable. In a dress she is a slut.

“Britney Spears shows she prefers increased air circulation by going ‘sans panties’ and is photographed. Yes, she set the whole thing up. But is it really such a big thing? Thousands go without; all the women in this place go without.”

They continued walking past the gyms to the next set of rooms.

“These are our sex education rooms.”

Martin had mentioned this previously, however she didn’t really believe him at the time. Now Laura stood outside a room with the words ‘SEX EDUCATION’ fixed on the door. She reluctantly followed him in.

“I believe that you are familiar with some of these.” He pointed to an impressive collection of dildos, vibrators, and dongs. “As well, we have remote control units so that the vibrator can be turned on from a distance, even in a public place.”

Before she could interrupt he continued.

“These are condoms with different lubricants to provide a different feel. And here we have butt plugs. Your leader may require you to wear one of these at dinner in a restaurant. Some are vibrating and some are remote control. There are various exercises that you can do to improve your control and increase your enjoyment when using these. In some cases, women have been able to hold these in by the strength of their vagina alone. Likewise, there are exercises to improve the control of the entire vulval area. Can you pick up money with your pussy?”

Enjoying the look on her face he continued.

“I guess not. It is a useful skill to have, and it can provide a unique pleasure for the male. We also cover oral sex for both men and women — anal, and other skills.”

“Why the poles? Firefighting?”

“They are for pole dancing. You will be trained in lap and pole dancing.”

“That’s demeaning,” a disgusted Laura interrupted.

Martin continued as though Laura hadn’t spoken.

“It is a great fitness workout and strengthens many parts of the body that are used in sex. It is also empowering for a woman to swing her legs as she does on the pole. Imagine holding on with your arms and spreading your legs as you swing around the pole. Very arousing for the dancer and for the audience. A dancer’s legs become very strong and they’re great for holding a man.”

“Is that all this place is – a fuck place? Where are the fun things like water skiing or bungee jumping or…? Why sex all the time?” Laura blurted out.

With a sigh Martin explained.

“Sex, by definition, is personal. If you are unhappy with yourself, then when you get undressed you will be unhappy and the sex will show. It’s like food. You can eat poorly tasting muck and survive. But to be happy you need food that is interesting, tasty, and nutritious. Sex is the most personal activity that you can take part in with another person, and it is usually someone you have strong feelings for. If it is not good then the relationship starts to decay. If there is no honesty in the bed it will also be absent in the relationship. You see, you haven’t been honest in your relationships. They have been hollow and left you hungry. You tried to control your partner just as you tried to control all other aspects of your life.”

“You admit you have no training in psychology or marriage counselling, yet you produce these wild theories,” she challenged.

“Yes, funny about that. In a previous life I was an appliance installer. People would buy a dishwasher or refrigerator and I would install it. The number of times I got offered free pussy by bored housewives was unbelievable. Many women gladly confided that the machine was often the result of some sex favour. One told me that the new dishwashing machine cost her three blowjobs each week for a month and she had to swallow each time. Is that a sign of a healthy relationship? Another told me he husband never made her cum.”

“Why tell a complete stranger all this?”

“Because I was safe, I’d never see them again, and who would believe me anyway? Maybe I’d rise to the challenge and sweep them off their feet. Maybe I’d fuck them and they’d really get off on the danger and the excitement of doing something they thought was wrong. To them, the danger of being caught is more important than the act. The very process of confiding in a stranger is exciting — watching their reaction, and feeding from their disgust or envy.

“Think how it must feel to honestly give oneself to another without reservation or restriction, to trust another so completely and feel so safe that nothing is forbidden. Everything is new and exciting and a challenge. Each experience revitalises because there is nothing held back. The silliness of the rule, ‘I only kiss on the first date. Suck on the second. Fuck on the third’ is redundant and insulting to any thinking person. No, here there are no restrictions and no emotional blackmail.

“As I said before, I used to be an appliance installer, and that included commercial installations. One job site was a club where women did lap dancing. The old equipment had to be removed and the new installed and tested, so the job took several days. During that time I had a chance to see some of the women close up in various aspects of their work.”

“I’ll bet you did.” Laura again interrupted, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

For a second he looked at her and she could not hold the intensity of the stare so she quickly avoided his eyes. The sheer power of his will forced her to look away. It didn’t help that he physically towered over her by at least half a head. Laura immediately felt ashamed of such a cheap remark, and his silence made his gaze even more powerful. There was a tightly controlled anger that she had no desire to see unrestrained. Martin continued.

“There was a group of women all competing in the same small area but there was no bitchiness or competition. They all seemed happier doing their job than they had any right to be, especially considering it is not the most glamorous of occupations, yet they seemed so comfortable and at ease. They were generally the sexiest of women but not the most attractive, yet they exuded an air of sexiness that had nothing to do with their lack of clothing. It seemed there must be a morality of sorts to the place.

“And before you interrupt again, I had to install a hot water service at a brothel. The same comfortable atmosphere was present. Each male knew that he was going to get sex. There was no blackmail like ‘a good dinner gets you sex and a hotdog gets you the brush off’. Each girl was a certainty.

“I was watching Oprah last week — don’t ask — and it now seems that a blowjob is a standard good night kiss on the first date. No bj and no second date. Isn’t that a prostitution of some type? Don’t get me wrong, it is not the bj that is the problem. A woman that fucks on the first date because she wants to — in my opinion — is a lady with confidence in her own judgment and body. A woman that sucks on the first date because she is scared there won’t be a second date is a demonstration of a sick relationship.”

Laura’s head was spinning with the logic of the argument, yet the conflict that arose within her was also irresistible. How could a ‘lady’ fuck an almost complete stranger on their first date and remain a ‘lady’?

To keep the noise going she asked, “How does the school work?”

“Guests at our school are placed in groups of four, with a single leader or mentor. It’s the role of the mentor to guide each guest through the process and develop a set of experiences that present a wide range of situations. One of the problems if I were to be involved is that there would need to be three other women with a similar view. This is an unlikely eventuality. A younger mentor is much more suitable.”

“Why four?” asked Laura

“It is really two groups of two. You, as a guest, would have a member of the group to help and support you just as she would have you. There are ongoing changes to the program so that you mingle with all other members of the same group.”

The lift stopped and Laura followed Martin as he made a left turn and went down a short set of steps. Here they stopped at a very old, solid oak door.

“Why do I need the support?”

“The program is aimed at providing new experiences and at challenging the way you live your life. One of these challenges will be for you to understand that sexuality can be expressed in many forms. There is, of course, the usual male and female version.” Here he paused for effect, and then continued, “There is also, as you have seen, female and female.”

“But!” She tried to interrupt.

“There is also male, female, and female.”

“You mean that the mentor has sex with all in the group and the girls have sex with each other? And they all have sex with each other? You expect me to have sex with someone after ‘it’s’ been in another woman? No way! Fucking impossible. No fucking way!” Laura blurted.

“Your choice of language is something that you will need to consider. It is most unbecoming and is not welcomed at all. Again, this is a change in your lifestyle, and the change will help you understand your life in terms of business, pleasure, and what you want from both. Is your life a contented one? Obviously not, otherwise you would not be here. As well as helping you understand your sexuality, the group will help you, as you will help them, to appreciate that there is, to quote the song, ‘a fine line between pleasure and pain’, a very fine line.”

“What?”

With that, Martin opened the door and gently led Laura into the room. It was completely dark so Laura couldn’t see and she was scared to move. The door slammed shut and caused her to jump. She was now completely enveloped in a total darkness, although she wasn’t disorientated or unsure of the location of the door. Martin’s firm, quiet voice came out of the blackness.

“In this room you will come to understand your true personality, your true self.”

He took her left hand and she felt something being fixed to her wrist and held it in the air. The same process was applied to her right hand. Suddenly the lights went on and she saw herself in the mirror. She was bound in a frame with her hands firmly held above her head. Her legs were spread-eagled, leaving a clear path between them to the place where they met. She suddenly remembered that she had thrown her panties at Martin in frustration, so she was now standing, restrained, with her most private part exposed without any covering to hinder Martin’s access. The vulnerability was strangely erotic and exciting in a fashion that Laura had never previously experienced.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

Martin simply ignored her and went to the wall to carefully examine the various items that were displayed.

“Man has devised so many tools to inflict pain and suffering, each slightly different, and each with its own special effect. Many who come to this room develop a deep fondness for one particular item, sometimes almost becoming obsessed with the exquisite joy of that particular pain.”

Laura was almost jealous as she watched the ‘almost love and affection’ Martin demonstrated when he caressed each item singly and carefully. He selected a cat-o-nine tails from the rack and stood directly in front of Laura. Her eyes sprang wide open as she realised the implications of his selection of the whip.

“You are not going to fucking hit me with that you fucking bastard! Let me go, you cock-sucking piece of shit! I’ll kill you if you touch me with that!” Lara screamed at the top of her lungs.

Martin ignored her comments as he unbuttoned her blouse to expose the white lace bra that barely contained her. As she continued with more threats and profanity, he took a pocket knife from his pants and showed her the shiny blade. Her tirade stopped but it left an overwhelming quiet in the room.

“No-one can hear you in this room as special sound proofing has been installed. Even if they could, all staff and guests are under strict instructions to ignore all sounds that come from this this location unless they include the emergency code word.”

As he spoke with the knife in his left hand, with his right he placed the whip around Laura’s neck, the handle section just below her lips. The contrast between her snowy white face, her delicious red lips and the black of the whip was striking. Martin took a moment to appreciate the contrasts before continuing.

“A few moments ago you were begging me to take you as a student, now you are threatening me.”

As he spoke he transferred the knife to his right hand, closer to Laura. She never took her eyes from the long, thin blade.

“See, many students that attend this school don’t have the patience any more. They don’t think to understand the process and enjoy the experience. This is why I’ve handed the group management to younger heads.”

While he was talking he placed the back of the blade on her stomach and brought it up under her bra, threatening to cut it free. As the metal touched her skin she shivered. There was fear in that shiver, but there was also something else – the same as she had felt when she was in the chair, only a little different this time. Martin arched the blade against her skin so that it made an impression on the white flesh between her tits and also threatened to cut the fragile band.

Finally she found her voice again.

“Please, that’s a Bella Froma. It’s very expensive. Please don’t cut it.”

“Kiss the whip.”

It was a command that she couldn’t refuse. With the blade maintaining pressure against her skin, Laura gently kissed the handle of the whip that Martin presented to her. The idea of kissing a whip, an object that inflicted pain, was insulting, yet there was that unmistakable fear and anxiety that started in her tummy but it was spreading to a tingle between her legs. It was the deep excitement of doing something incredibly wicked. The combination of fear, anxiety, and wickedness was seductive and enticing.

“Now open your mouth and take it inside and hold it there.”

Laura opened her mouth as wide as possible and took the end of the handle and closed her mouth so that the entire whip was protruding from her mouth. The image was obscene beyond belief, but it was also highly stimulating and Laura suddenly discovered that she was incredibly wet.

Martin left her and disappeared from her line of vision. When he returned he had removed his shirt and trousers and replaced them with an open fronted leather robe. Laura now had a view of his hairy chest and well developed arms. He wore leather briefs that did little to disguise that he was, in fact, a full adult male.

“Give it back,” he said.

She obediently opened her mouth and reluctantly released the whip. Martin resumed.

“I guess it is the lack of respect that I miss the most. People once gave credit that perhaps someone may know more, be more experienced. Now everyone else is wrong and only they are correct. Young people need to be around young people because they believe they are the only ones who know what is and what is not.”

As he spoke he removed the knife from under the bra and closed it, returning it to his pants. He then released the bra straps and pushed the cups down to expose her tits, leaving the bra hanging obscenely around her waist. He lifted her skirt to around the same position, so it seemed that she had a bunch of clothing in the middle of her body, with her front and her lower section completely exposed and the jacket covering her shoulders and back. The skirt sat atop her pelvis as the beginning of the “V”. It seemed to draw and concentrate attention on the tuft of hair that was cradled there.

Martin took the whip from around her neck and bunched the tails into one handful, gripping the end so they protruded from the back of his hand, about the width of a finger. These he moved over her boobs, barely touching the skin. Laura watched the movements of whip across her body with a fear that was unspeakable, yet there was an obscene fascination, like looking at a car accident. She was experiencing a sexual thrill unlike any before. He repeated this process over both mounds, occasionally slowing and increasing the pressure so that it became painful. Then the whip moved on.

“My demands are too high, and too strict. The people who come here, like you, are after a quick fix and never fully own the experience. It’s all about fun and quick rewards — never about the challenge and the experience.”

While he was talking, Martin had moved to her side, bent down and moved the whip between her legs with one hand to her front and the other behind. He took hold of it with both hands and let the strands hang loose. Then, starting with her ankles, he moved the leather straps up the inside of one leg and then down the inside of the other. He repeated this with a different pressure each time. He then took two strands and placed two fingers of each hand between the strands, forming a type of leather cradle. Martin brought the cradle up between her legs so that it contacted the smooth, soft flesh at the top of her legs. The whip was held her for a short time and Laura wondered what he was going to do. No sooner had the thought been born than he moved the whip higher up her legs until it grabbed each side of her pussy and pushed the lips together. As he lifted higher and more of Laura’s weight was being taken by the leather, the pressure intensified on her sex and she cried in pain. But it was not a normal pain, it was wicked, wanton and repulsive – a pure, hot lust.

“See! You are so wet that I can smell you. As I increase the pressure, so your desire increases.”

At this point Laura was on her tip-toes, trying to relieve the upward pressure and still experience the exquisite pain that was between her legs.

“Laura, what are you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do. Laura, what are you? Look within yourself, deep inside. What do you want?”

The re-play came in a small whisper, almost without control, of its own volition.

“I don’t know. Don’t hurt me. I don’t understand.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

There was shame and humiliation because he was right, and it intensified as she was forced to verbalise her feelings. Her voice was small.

“Yes.”

“Laura,” he said, “which hole?”

He was close, very close. She could feel the texture of the leather and the silkiness of the hair on his chest. He smelt of leather and male. The quiet, commanding voice from above was both dominating and intimating.

“What do you mean? Use my pussy,” she replied. Such shame. No he couldn’t mean …

“There are other possibilities. Are you sure that you have made the right choice? What if I said I wanted another? What would you say?”

“There is only one place to fuck. Use my pussy. No, please my vagina.”

“Ah, the pure view of life. Some may say there are other possibilities. Some say there are two others.”

The whip moved down her legs and the pressure decreased. When it reached mid thigh, he brought it back up until the leather was again pushing against her pussy lips. The combination of the pressure of the leather and the challenge issued by Martin made Laura go white.

“No, no,” she whimpered. “There is only one.”

“You are tied up in a sound proof room and without any source of help except mine. You are completely in my control and I can use you in any fashion that I wish. If you do not name them I will make the choice. I now ask you for the last time, what are the other holes?”

With that, Laura slumped and took her entire weight on her hands; she was finally beaten. Everything from the moment she had met Martin had been building to this. She was in the same position in which she had placed other people in her life. Even as a ten-year old she had lent money to her sister and brother and charged them a cent a dollar a day interest. And now she was the one being controlled and directed.

Yet she felt oddly calm, safe, and secure. There was no pretence in this room. She was being taken as she was. Fashion, income and power meant nothing. He simply sought total control: no pretences, no manipulations and no falsehoods. He could have whatever he wanted when he wanted it. Why lie and pretend to get what was his? If he wanted a fuck he could have a fuck. No need for presents and bribes.

Now there was more worrying about when should she fuck a new date. Her rule had always been ‘never on the first date’, but her man was usually gone by the seventh if her legs remained closed. This way there could be no power struggles where she manipulated him with the promise of possible sex — ‘behave and you may get a blow job’, where she never swallowed and often made him finish in his own hand. That would never work here.

Here she was offered complete and total acceptance if she was willing to give Martin that power. It certainly wasn’t love, but it was a level of involvement and openness that she had never experienced since leaving her family. And she knew that even in families things had to be hidden. She could scarcely discuss fellatio techniques with her mum or dad.

Plenty had used her cunt, but that was more of a loan or a short-term hire, paid for with false affection and presents. If she gave in to Martin’s requests then he would own her cunt, arse, and mouth. He would almost own her soul. Could she face that honesty with him, a total stranger who seemed to know her more than she knew herself? If she accepted his terms, there would be no going back, there would only be completeness.

Once the utterance was made and the commitment voiced, she believed there would be so much less of her, but what was less would be richer and more content. This man seemed to trust people more than she ever could, he who was always in control and seemed to develop and encourage such strong loyalty from his staff. Max treated him unlike any of her own staff treated her. But could she accept?

“I can’t!”

“Say it,” he said. He was so close that she could feel the heat from his body, smell his body, his hot breath in her right ear.

“No.” Her voice was barely a whimper.

“Laura, which hole?”

As he spoke he took her left breast in his hand. Its rough skin was uncomfortable but also exciting. He slowly moved it down across her navel where the fingers spread to cover a wider area but it stopped just above the join of her lower lips. She pushed her hips forward trying to force his hand down to bring her relief. The combination of the threat of the leather, the coarseness of his hand naggingly close to her sex, the effect of him towering above and warm powerful voice was finally enough to break her last fiber of resistance.

“I have three holes that are no longer mine. This body has a cunt, an arse, and a mouth. They are yours to use when and how you please.”

There, she had said it. Suddenly the decision brought relief and security. The change was immediate and immensely personal to the very essence of her soul. The feeling started between her legs and radiated along every nerve ending like a tidal wave flowing up every river when it hits the shore. It was not intense — she had come harder that morning — but this climax hit the peak sooner stayed there longer. When she expected it to decrease, the feeling only plateaued.

“Any.”

“Laura, say it and I will. Beg me and I will or I will make my own choice.”

“You can use any that you wish. But I beg you to please fuck my cunt. I am cunt, all cunt. Open my legs and use the hole that lies between. Use me. Fuck me hard. Pound my cunt.”

Her own language both appalled and excited her, so scared was she that he could make her say such things and so excited that she could be free to express herself. She hoped he was getting as excited as she was.

Martin unzipped her skirt from the bunch around her waist and let it fall to the floor. She lifted one leg and placed it outside the fallen garment and then kicked it with the other foot. She still had the jacket top on, but that was the only stitch of clothing. Martin moved behind her and she sensed the whip moving back to start the first strike.

“No, fuck me,” she pleaded.

“This is my world and you do as I say. Sluts take orders or they will have an empty cunt. When your butt is a nice red, then I will use a hole. I will decide which, and you will be thankful. Now thank me for punishing you.”

Yes this is what she needed: the open bare honesty, the completeness and the totality. Her job was to defraud people about how the public thought about her clients. Her relationships followed the same policy of fraud. Excepting the last, she had always broken off with them,and always to trade up.

In a voice that could barely be heard she whimpered, “Thank you Master for teaching me and helping me to understand. Please forgive me and punish me as you wish. But, if I may make a simple request, fuck my cunt until I cannot walk.” With that she pushed her rear out waiting for the leather to strike.

The strands of the cat-o-nine hit her right cheek and she screamed, and as she did, another blow came on the left side. Then another on the right, slightly higher and a little further forward so that the tails came around to the front and made contract on her ribs and pelvis. The next was on the right, but higher, hitting her jacket and just touching her partly covered breasts. With each strike, the wickedness within her grew. She was being whipped, which was wrong. It was disgusting and it was evil, yet she was becoming more excited than she could have believed possible and she could feel a new orgasm beginning — without any sex. Between blows, she began to thrust her pelvis forward as though she was actually fucking someone, and then pulling back for the strike.

Without warning, Martin said, “Your legs are getting wider apart. You must want something there!”

Before he finished the last word, the lash came between her legs and hit her sex so that strands of the whip parted and half hit the right pussy lips and the other hit the left pussy lips. Laura had never felt anything like that in the past. Before she could appreciate the blow, another arrived in the same place, and then another. Laura spread her legs even further and her pussy lips parted, exposing the most sensitive part of her body. The next strike hit exactly between her lips and made contact with the exposed hole.

She screamed like she had never screamed before and her hips started bucking as she started to come. Martin dropped the whip and leaped behind her. He dropped his pants and lifted her off the ground, aligning his rock hard cock with her cunt. He held it against the raw lips. A gentle push increased the pressure. She bent lower to provide better access. More pressure. Why wasn’t he in? She was wet enough, she knew. There must be a bucket of pussy juice on the floor.

Then a new sensation; her pussy was still being forced open, further and further. How fucking big was this monster? More pressure and more pain. Pain from her sweet pussy being stretched in a manner that had she thought was impossible. Even more pressure and pain.

The combination of the presence of the whip, its impact, the pain it produced, and her body’s movements made her sweat. Her exotic perfume scents were washed away leaving only the smell of a wet dripping cunt – raw animal smells that women have been sending to attract men for ages With each stroke she felt the beads of perspiration slowly crawl down her body to gather between her legs where they mixed with the lubrication produced by an almost squirting sex and finally fell to her feet.

Then, ‘swat’, leather hit her right side and then left, and then ‘Holy Fuck!’ his balls slammed against her pelvis. Back went the monster where it stopped with the crown just inside her. Unsure, she tried to look around to actually see the huge thing that was impaling her pussy. Then she was slam fucked. Martin withdrew almost his entire length and then pounded her as hard as possible. After a few minutes he started to bring her back towards him when he thrust in.

Each thrust rekindled the pain of the blows between her legs and the shame of the excitement only made it more delicious. She arched her body to make better contact between her legs. Martin lifted her off the ground further and took hold of the inside of each leg. This gave him more control and allowed him to pound her as the shackles on her wrists took some of the weight. After a few more minutes of raw animal power, he put one hand in front and took her weight. With his right hand he slapped her right cheeks.

“Tell me what you are,” he commanded.

Passion and fear took control. With each slap she screamed back at him.

“Your slut, your cunt, your three holes! Master, please come. I cannot stand this for much longer. Please fill this cunt with cock juice. Your balls are hitting my pussy, my cunt has never felt like this. Come now, I beg you. In me, in me!”

Another orgasm hit Laura and she almost fainted. She was now gushing so much juice that her pussy was almost frictionless, even given the size of the cock that was stretching her. Although the pounding on her clit was working for her, Martin was still hard but nowhere near finishing.

He withdrew from her and, while still holding her, he said “You have not earned the reward that you seek. Much will have to be done before that happens.”

He reached up and released the straps on her right and then her left hand. She collapsed into his arms and she felt herself carried across the room to a door. This he opened and inside was a single bed and bathroom facilities. He carried her to the bed, laid her on top and then covered her with the blankets.

“Rest, and when you are ready, have a shower and there will be clean clothes waiting for you. There is a telephone on the table; it is a direct line to my office. When you are ready, call me and I will come down and guide you back. I think that now you will see that a younger leader will be better than someone like me.”

Laura was silent. The last thing she wanted to consider was anything to do with anything. She just wanted to lie there and recover. It had been a long time since she’d felt so at peace with the world. Reality briefly entered her thoughts as she chose that moment to roll over and felt the pressure on some very sensitive skin. How could she hide these marks, she wondered. As she realised that it could all wait, she fell asleep, her breathing coming much more gently now.

Laura awoke and it seemed that only a few hours had slipped by. The light through the window looked the same. A hot luxurious shower was definitely needed, she decided. As she passed a mirror on the way to the shower, she took the time to check for marks and other evidence of the previous night’s experience. There didn’t seem to be any lingering pain and to her amazement the marks had disappeared.

Turning for a full frontal, she noticed that something else had also disappeared, or at least was not as prominent. Someone had trimmed — not shaved, but trimmed — her pubic hair. This wasn’t part of the deal. Sex was okay, but he should have asked. Maybe someone else had done it? What else had he done while she was unconscious? Wasn’t fucking her enough, she thought. This also brought back reservations about the decisions and conclusions she had reached while tied up.

Laura dried, got dressed in her newly dry-cleaned clothes and called Martin.

He arrived ten minutes later and took her to a dining room off his office. Although they made small talk along the way, Laura was fuming inside about the trimming and what he had probably done while she was asleep. It was also odd that she didn’t wake up. Perhaps she’d been drugged and maybe he’d even raped her in addition to the earlier fucking. After all, he had not come.

Laura sat at the table and Martin spoke first.

“Coffee?”

She ignored the question and decided to attack.

“What’s the idea of the trim?”

“Trim?” he queried.

“While I was asleep, someone took a pair of clippers to my pussy hair and I am not happy about that — or what they may have done at the same time. Who did it?” Her voice had risen as she spoke and it was now almost yelling.

“Oh! Now I understand. I see the lessons of the room have been quickly forgotten. You must learn that the rules outside do not apply here. You gave me complete control. What would you say if I said that I did the trimming and used you like a $2 whore at the same time?”

Again, Martin had been able to twist and confuse Laura, even more so when he continued, “But no it wasn’t me. It would have been Big Sam. I sent Sam up to check on you and to bring you your clean clothes. Sam probably decided that you needed a trim.”

“What else did he decide? To cop a feel? Get a finger or something else wet? The way you run this place anything could happen!”

“They are very strong words, and even stronger accusations. Let me call in Big Sam and we will get to the bottom of this.”

Martin went back into his office and sat behind the desk. Laura sat in the same chair as the last time she was in his office. He picked up the telephone and spoke into the mouthpiece.

“Big Sam, please come to my office immediately.” He put the mouthpiece down and turned to Laura. “We have several Sams, but only one big one,” Martin explained.

They both sat there in complete silence. Laura was sure he wasn’t taking this seriously; in fact it seemed almost a joke.

There were voices outside, with some giggling. The door opened and in walked the most petite woman that Laura had ever seen. She walked past Laura and went over to Martin who had stood up when she came into the room. She put her arms almost entirely around him and hugged him.

“What’s the problem boss?”

“Sam, this lady claims that you trimmed the hair ‘downstairs’ while she was sleeping and that at the same time you may have sexually assaulted her while she slept. Is this true?”

“Well I did give her a manicure and a pedicure like you asked. I took a peak and she seemed pretty hairy so I thought a trim might be a good idea. I wasn’t sure if she was going to shave or do a Brazilian so I left some length so she could do either. Assault? I don’t have the equipment for rape and I got the same stuff as she has, so why should I bother?”

Martin looked at Laura who had turned a vivid red.

“Are you satisfied?”

She stammered.

“Yes. And Big Sam?”

“I met Sam’s parents in Bali and they were looking for a university for Sam to attend. They were thinking of Germany, but the cold would have killed her. I persuaded them to let her come here. I knew a friend at the local university who was willing to enroll her as long as there was a local guarantor. I became that guarantor.

When Asians study in a foreign country they often pick their own English name, and the first television show that Sam saw in her life was ‘Bewitched’. She loved Samantha so much that she took that name as her local name. Her nickname became Sam and the ‘Big’ was added because we have two other Sams — both male — and also because of her physical stature. She works here to earn money while she is studying her masters and also because she likes the atmosphere.”

“Isn’t it a bit demeaning for a university graduate to be working here doing nails? No offence intended.”

“It is amazing that people say that when that is exactly what they have been: offensive. You could have asked why she really likes working here so much. You could have asked about her long term plans. Instead you mention the word ‘demeaning’. Well, what about it? Sam, do you want me to fire you so that you can get a better paying job?”

Yet again, Laura felt embarrassed and ashamed because he was right and she had been bitchy. It was the same at her company, there always seemed to be bitchy comments flying around. Could she make her staff as happy to work for her as Martin’s seemed to be with him? Could they be as confident and relaxed as the other girls here? The force and language of Sam’s replay startled Laura.

“Fuck no! If I get the sack then I’ll have to work for a living. Besides, how will you try to get into my pants if I’m not around?” Sam exclaimed.

“Even if I did get those tight pants down, I’ve forgotten what to do,” retorted Martin.

Now Laura felt as though she really was Alice and the white rabbit had just run by. It was unbelievable that staff could treat managers with such familiarity. And he responded as though it was in every way acceptable. Yet before all this, she had been willing to allow Martin to … She shook her head in disbelief at what was happening around her.

“I’ve seen the way you look at my butt when you think I’m not looking. If I dropped these jeans you’d be in my pussy so fast that your pants would take a week to catch up.” Sam sighed and left the room.

“If I sacked Sam today she would hardly have to get a job. She has an extensive stock portfolio that she collected from tips and advice from our guests. If she left should she would lose that almost inside advice, so I guess that may be important. However, her holdings would allow her a very secure financial life without a further day’s work.

The simple fact is that she likes it here. All the customers love her and so do all the staff. She never makes any trouble for anyone except me, and then it is because I’ve been lazy and something needs fixing.”

Seeing the look on Laura’s face Martin continued.

“The sex thing comes from her first week here in this country. She had been told that any man who helped her would want something in return. She was terrified that I would want sex and that she would be so disappointing to me that I would sell her as a sex slave or send her back to Bali. She begged me to use her and keep her. It has become a joke ever since. It is also a sign of how comfortable she is while she is working here. Everybody sees her as their daughter in some fashion. You have to remember that for someone of her culture to be able to express herself in such a fashion is a significant change in perception and fundamental behaviour. We are all so proud of her.”

“It is all so strange, yet everyone seems so happy,” Laura almost muttered to herself.

“Would you like some breakfast?” he asked.

“Breakfast?” she asked blankly.

“Well it is early in the afternoon, but you slept through most of the morning — in fact you slept around eighteen hours.”

Her blank look told Martin that she didn’t believe him. He continued.

“In the past few years there has been increasing pressure as your lifestyle conflicted with your personal disposition. You were continually forcing yourself to act and behave in a manner that was inconsistent with your own basic need in life. I released all that pressure and you responded.

“Assume that a person does something horrible – murder, for example – and that they get away with it for many years. For some people the guilt that is attached to the act begins to gnaw at them and adversely affects their life. If they decide to confess, the relief is wonderful. In your case, I took control and released you from the pressure that you had created. You probably feel like you could sleep for a hundred years.”

“Yes. I think I could go back to bed and sleep like a log. So now I am cured?”

“Cured is the wrong word. You are not sick or diseased; you have a bad habit that needs to change. Like a smoker who has started a bad habit, you need to break it so that you live the lifestyle that suits you.

“So to answer your question: no, you are not cured. Again consider the smoker; we have taken your cigarettes away for one day and you feel better, but if we give them back you will simply continue with your old habit and start smoking again. What you need is behavioral change so you understand your needs and make informed good choices about your lifestyle. Hopefully, you now have more than an inkling of what we do here and the doubt that was so evident when I first met you has been replaced with some level of confidence in what can be achieved with the right frame of mind.”

“So when do I start with you? Remember that I am willing to pay double if you conduct the group.” She persisted in her original request.

“I told you that this is not possible. Before we can consider anything else, three other people who are willing to work with me are required. Almost impossible.”

“Ask your secretary to find them,” Laura commanded.

“It’s a waste of time, but I’ll email her at once.”

“Telephone?”

“She has her duties and it is not worth interrupting them for such a trivial matter.” Martin started typing at the computer and sent the email.

“It isn’t trivial to me,” Laura persevered.

“I did not mean that it is unimportant; she will do it as soon as possible. Rather than interrupt her at the moment, we have found it better to let her finish a task and then start on something else rather than change mid stream. After all, if she takes one minute or ten it is hardly significant. You obviously don’t approve of our work practices, but they work fine for us.”

As he spoke, the computer indicated that a new email had arrived. Anxious to see the results of the query, Laura walked around Martin’s desk and looked over his shoulder as they both read the reply.

“It appears that we do indeed have a problem,” Laura remarked.

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