“Stand up straight,” Mistress Miriam snapped. “Breasts out.”
Alexis put her shoulders back, thrusting her size C breasts forward, willing away the heat that wanted to climb into her face. She wasn’t shy about her body, but something about Mistress Miriam’s piercing gaze made her want to cover herself. She forced herself to resist the impulse.
Mistress Miriam stood, moving to stand directly in front of Alexis. “You stated on the questionnaire that you believe you are submissive, but you’ve had trouble reaching the inner core of that submission. In your essay you questioned if you might only be sexually masochistic, and not really capable of true submission. Do I have that correct, Alexis?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Are you obedient?”
In the right circumstances, Alexis thought. With the right man. Glancing at the gorgeous Mistress Miriam, she suddenly wondered—with the right woman? Aloud she replied, “Yes, Mistress.”
Mistress Miriam stepped back. She cupped Alexis’s left breast, lifting it and letting it fall. She pinched both Alexis’s nipples with her sharp, blood red nails. Alexis pressed her lips together to keep from crying out, her eyes on Mistress Miriam’s face, her hands locked obediently behind her head. When Mistress Miriam finally let go, Alexis’s nipples were erect and throbbing.
Mistress Miriam put a hand over Alexis’s crotch, and Alexis almost stepped back, embarrassed to be touched so intimately by another woman, especially when she knew her panties were damp from the exchange between them so far. She stopped herself in time, determined to prove she was obedient, though she couldn’t stop her gasp when Mistress Miriam slipped a finger into her panties.
“If we accept you, this will have to go.” Mistress Miriam tugged lightly at Alexis’s pubic hair. “We have a specialist in full body waxing. All our trainees must be smooth and completely accessible at all times. Is that a problem?”
“No, Mistress,” Alexis replied.
Mistress Miriam returned to the desk, though she didn’t sit down. “Which do you prefer, the flogger or the cane?”
“The flogger,” Alexis said immediately. It was no contest—she hated to be caned. It held none of the sweet, thuddy sensuousness of a flogging. It just plain fucking hurt.
“Ah. Then we’ll use the cane.” One side of Mistress Miriam’s mouth lifted in a cruel smile.
If she had said the cane, would Mistress Miriam have picked the flogger? Probably. Though then again, probably not. Somehow Alexis sensed she would have known she was lying. How had Mistress Miriam managed to hone in on the one thing Alexis had a hard time with? Was it some kind of sadist’s sixth sense? She could take a single tail, she could even handle a bull whip. But the cane—with its stingy bite, and that scary whooshing sound just before it struck the skin—sent a chill down her back just thinking about it.
You got this far, she admonished herself. Don’t screw it up now.
“Face the chair, bend over and grab the arms. Legs wide, ass out. Oh, and take off those panties.”
Alexis pulled her panties down and stepped out of them, adding them to the folded pile of her clothing. Taking a breath, she turned toward the chair. She bent forward and gripped the smooth wooden arms, steadying herself as she spread her legs. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, but she was determined. She could do this. She would do this.
She could hear Mistress Miriam moving behind her. When she felt the light tap of the cane against her ass, she stiffened, but managed to remain still. By turning her head, she could just see Mistress Miriam out of the corner of her eye, standing back and to the side.
“Eyes straight ahead,” Mistress Miriam snapped, punctuating her words with the first real strike of the cane. Alexis gasped in pain, gripping the chair arms hard as she struggled to maintain her composure. Several more hard whacks followed in quick succession, each one landing just below the last. As the cane moved lower, covering the fleshier part of Alexis’s ass, she found herself better able to tolerate the stinging blows.
Until the one that struck just where her ass met her thighs. It was harder than the others, preceded by that sudden, terrifying whoosh and then a searing, biting flash of pain that pushed a cry from Alexis’s lips.
She lifted her head, her eyes momentarily blinded by tears. Stop fighting it. Flow with the pain. Become one with it. She could almost hear Arthur admonishing her, and she tried to do just that, though she’d never really understood the concept, not on a gut level. Another blow caught her on the hip and she gritted her teeth, not sure she could take much more of this.
She looked out the window, thinking maybe she could distract herself enough with the view to at least get through this caning without making a fool of herself by screaming, or worse, turning around and grabbing the fucking thing from Mistress Miriam’s hands and breaking it clean in two.
And then she saw him.
The pool had been empty when she’d first entered the office, but now someone was swimming in it— muscular back and powerful shoulders moving through the water and then a head lifting, shaking the water from long auburn hair that glittered like dark, wet gold in the sunlight.
The man moved to the opposite side of the pool and lifted his arms on either side, leaning back against the edge of the pool, revealing his smooth, bronzed chest. His jaw was square, his nose prominent.
He seemed to be staring directly at her.
The cane cut her ass again, and again, but somehow, with her eyes on the handsomest man she’d ever seen in her life, Alexis found herself able to tolerate the blows. She began to breathe more deeply, her tightly-clenched muscles easing as she imagined that the man could see her, even though she knew he probably could not, being out in the sun as he was.
Still, he kept his gaze toward the window, and she kept her gaze on him, drawing strength and courage from his handsome visage, her cunt moistening as she drank in the masculine curves of his body. Would he be her trainer?
Please, please, please, let him be my trainer.
Suddenly Alexis felt Mistress Miriam’s cool fingers tracing the welts she had raised along Alexis’s ass and thighs. When the hand slid between her legs, Alexis gasped, but maintained her position. She looked again at the Greek god still leaning back against the side of the pool, and imagined it was his hand touching her pussy, probing her entrance, sliding over her clit.
When Mistress Miriam began to rub and tease her, Alexis kept her focus on the man in the pool. The caning, though it had hurt like hell, had aroused Alexis, as all erotic pain did. That arousal, along with the vision of the man in the pool, and the realization that a gorgeous, dominant woman was touching her, all combined to make Alexis tremble and moan, teetering suddenly on the edge of an orgasm.
She felt Mistress Miriam moving closer, her small breasts touching Alexis’s bare back. Her perfume was intoxicating, her touch a velvet heat at Alexis’s cunt.
“Come for me, Alexis.”
She did, keeping her eyes on the handsome man until they fluttered shut in the last throes of a powerful orgasm. She sank to her knees in front of the chair, her body shaking, her heart beating fast, her breath ragged in her throat.
When she finally regained enough control to pull herself upright, she turned to face Mistress Miriam, who was seated once more behind the desk, the cane back in its place beside the flogger.
“You’ll do,” she said, a small smile playing over her lips. “Sit down and we’ll go over the contract.”
With a glance at her clothing, Alexis settled gingerly on the edge of the chair, her ass still smarting from the cane. Mistress Miriam pushed a piece of paper over the desk toward her. “This is the contract. Take your time. Read it carefully. It basically gives us full discretion to train you as we see fit. The minimum stay is one month, and by signing the contract, you give up all rights and control. You will become a compound slave, and as such subject to the dictates and control of every Master and Mistress here. You will be assigned to a specific trainer, who will have primar
y responsibility for your training.
“Once training is deemed complete, if you’re interested, there is a significant market of Dominants interested in procuring trained sex slaves and submissives for their own use. You would be amply compensated, if that’s a route you choose, and the fees for placement are handled by the Master who procured you. Otherwise you are free to return to your life. Some slaves choose to remain on The Compound after training, if there’s a place for them.”
Mistress Miriam smiled. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. First things first. Read the contract. Take your time. Just be aware, once you sign, there’s no going back. You are committed to the month, with no recourse to leave the program. I’ll give you a few minutes alone. Can I bring you something? Coffee, a cold drink?”
Alexis swallowed, her mind reeling with what she was about to do. “Water would be good,” she managed, realizing she was in fact quite thirsty. She picked up the single page, trying to focus on the words. She couldn’t resist turning back toward the window, but the man who had been swimming was gone.
She read the terms of the contract, which were as Mistress Miriam had stated. If Alexis signed, she basically agreed to give up all rights to her person for the duration of the one-month training period. Once she signed the contract, she would be expected to comply with every dictate of The Compound staff. She would agree to submit to physical punishment and training, including but not limited to whipping, flogging, caning, bondage, sexual torture and stimulation, orgasm training and control, and sexual interactions of all kinds with her trainer and whoever the trainer deemed appropriate in the course of her training. She thought back to the first night Arthur had brought up the idea, and realized her fantasies, as wild as she had thought them at the time, weren’t at all far from the truth.
She lifted the pen Mistress Miriam had left for her, hesitating over the signature line. She didn’t have to sign. No one was holding a gun to her head. It wasn’t too late—she could still walk away. This was her choice, and hers alone.
Her ass still stinging from the bite of the cane, her cunt still throbbing from the intense orgasm she’d experienced under Mistress Miriam’s direction, Alexis asked herself if she was ready for this. Did she have the courage to go through with it? Did she want to?
She thought about the years she’d been alone. Even when she was dating guys or involved in a relationship, she always felt, at her core, alone. Her email discussions with Mistress Miriam had clarified what she’d really always known—she was a submissive who hadn’t yet found the right person or situation in which to explore and embrace that submission. Now she was being offered an amazing opportunity, and if she walked away she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life.
The office door opened and Alexis turned, expecting to see Mistress Miriam with her glass of water. Instead it was the man she’d seen in the pool, dressed now in a black button-down shirt rolled to his muscular, tanned forearms, and black jeans. Up close he was even handsomer, his eyes the same coppery color as his hair, his skin kissed by the sun.
“You must be Alexis,” he said, handing her the water. His eyes moved over her naked body and the blush she’d managed to keep at bay under Mistress Miriam’s scrutiny now bloomed over her chest and cheeks. “Mistress Miriam has been detained for a few moments. I’m Master Paul.”
Alexis took the water, electrified as their fingers touched. Please, please, please let him be my trainer.
She realized she was still holding the pen, the contract as yet unsigned. Setting down the water, she leaned over the paper and scrawled her signature on the indicated line.
There! It was done.
She leaned back in her chair, turning toward Master Paul with a nervous smile. He smiled back, his teeth even and white, his eyes crinkling at the corners suggesting a man who laughed often. “I’ll take that.” He held out his hand, and Alexis passed over the signed contract.
“Welcome to The Compound.” He glanced at his watch. “Master John, your trainer, should be here shortly to meet you.”
Chapter 2
Mistress Miriam appeared a moment later, a man behind her. Like Master Paul, the guy was also dressed in black, a thick cotton T-shirt that hugged a muscular torso and showed off powerfully muscled arms. He stood a little over six feet, with dark blond hair that fell in a thatch over his forehead. He had round blue eyes and a long, elegant nose over thin lips. Tall and well built, he was handsome in a Ken Barbie doll sort of way. He stared unblinkingly at Alexis, reminding her of an owl focused intently on its prey. He moved his eyes in a slow, brazen sweep over Alexis’s naked form, making her feel somehow more naked than she’d been a moment before.
“Alexis, this is Master John. He will be your trainer during your stay here,” Mistress Miriam said. Alexis cast a longing look in Master Paul’s direction, biting her tongue to keep from begging Mistress Miriam to assign her to him instead of the formidable Master John.
She knew better than that, however, aware it would not be a good start. She wasn’t here to pick up some hot guy, but to learn about herself and her submissive potential. All the trainers at The Compound were purported to be top-notch. Her first step in this process was to trust that they knew better than she what was needed to help her reach her goal.
With the barest of nods in her direction, Master Paul disappeared from the room, leaving Alexis with Mistress Miriam and her new trainer. Mistress Miriam returned to her desk. “From this moment forward,” she said to Alexis, “you belong to Master John. He will oversee every aspect of your physical care and wellbeing. He has complete authority over your training. His word is law. Do you understand, Alexis?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Alexis replied, the full extent of what she’d signed on for really sinking in now. She glanced at Master John, who was still looking her over with that owl-like gaze, his thin lips compressed in what seemed to her a disapproving line.
“Let’s go,” he said abruptly. “Once you’re properly groomed, I’ll assess your strengths and weaknesses, and develop a training regimen tailored to your needs.”
Master John held out his hand. But when Alexis moved forward to take it, he reached instead for the back of her neck, grabbing her in a viselike hold and pushing her ahead of him out the door.
Startled, Alexis tried to twist back to Mistress Miriam, but Master John’s grip was firm, and he quickly propelled her from the room, through the front hall of the main building and out the door, her suitcase and the pile of her clothing still in Mistress Miriam’s office.
The summer day was muggy, and the stones of the path on which they walked were hot beneath her bare feet. Master John, his hand still on the back of Alexis’s neck, stopped her as they approached the sidewalk and in a moment she saw why. A woman in a black tank top and a flowing black skirt was leading a naked man on a leash. As they approached, Alexis saw that he had no trace of hair on his body. Her eyes flickered over his denuded cock and balls as the couple passed her. As they walked away, Alexis caught a glimpse of the man’s back and ass. The skin was covered in welts, both fresh and fading, and Alexis felt her own recently caned skin tingle in sympathy.
Master John led her in the opposite direction to a long, single story building located behind the main house. “This used to be the stables,” he said tersely, confirming Alexis’s earlier impression that the place had once been a horse farm. “Now it’s the slave quarters. This is where all trainees stay.”
His hand still on her neck, Master John opened the door on the side of the building and pushed her inside. The place had the feel of a dormitory, with doors on either side of a long hallway. A few of the doors were ajar, and Alexis could see a single bed and a small bureau in each tiny, windowless room. Master John led her past these to the end of the hall, which opened onto a large communal bathroom complete with showers and toilets, though, Alexis noted, there were no doors or curtains to offer privacy. There was also what looked like a doctor’s exam table, a narrow high trolley on wheels beside it
loaded with various pots and jars.
Toward the back of the space Alexis saw a young African American woman wearing a thong similar to the one Josh had been wearing, her breasts bare. She was on her knees on a black rubber mat beside a huge sunken bathtub, her back straight, her hands resting lightly on her thighs. Like Josh, she wore a thick leather collar with a padlock at the throat.
“This is Marta,” Master John said, nodding toward the kneeling young woman as he finally let go of Alexis’s neck, “one of our fulltime slave staff. She will bathe and groom you and then take you to your room. You will wait there on your knees in an at-ease position for my inspection. You will not move from that position until I arrive. Are we quite clear on this?”
Alexis swallowed hard and nodded. Master John’s visage darkened, a frown appearing beneath the unblinking eyes. “Lesson one. You will always answer a direct question, and you will address me with the proper respect.”
“Yes, Sir. Yes, Master John,” Alexis replied quickly, embarrassed.
He turned toward Marta. “Full grooming. You have thirty minutes.” He glanced pointedly at a large clock set over the sinks.
“Yes, Master John,” the woman replied softly.
With a brusque nod, the man turned on his booted heel and left the room.
Marta rose from the mat in a single, fluid movement, like a ballet dancer, Alexis thought. Her breasts were small and round, her dark nipples large in comparison, and pierced with gold hoops. “Come,” she said. “We haven’t much time.”
Alexis approached her, not sure what was expected. “First, I’ll wash your hair,” Marta said. “Then to the waxing station. Have you ever been waxed?”
Alexis shook her head. Her trepidation must have showed on her face because Marta laughed kindly. “Relax. It’s not too terribly painful. I’m quite good at it. I did it for a living before I came to The Compound. But we have to hurry. Thirty minutes doesn’t give us much time.”
The Compound Page 2