Fifty Shades of BDSM Trilogy

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Fifty Shades of BDSM Trilogy Page 3

by Sky Corgan


  “It is. I personally went over your curriculum with them on the phone and approved all of your classes, had them take out the ones that you won't need, and replace them with ones that I thought would benefit you.”

  “So, what classes do you think will benefit me?” all seriousness was gone from my voice, and I felt a bit guilty for it.

  “You'll just have to wait and see.” A mischievous grin crossed Jack's face.

  “So mysterious, you are, Mr. Jack Kemble.”

  “Was that a yodaism?” He perked up, and for once he seemed more like a child than a man.

  “No, it wasn't.” I shook my head, and then had to bear the brief look of disappointment in his eyes.

  “I imagine it will take us a while still to get to know each other.” Jack poked at his fish with his fork.

  “Naturally. I am curious though why you have a BDSM fetish.”

  Tension was palpable in the room as he tensed up, and I almost immediately regretted asking the question. If I wasn't to see Jack again for an entire week, I didn't want our last night spent together to be awkward.

  “I'll tell you after we're married,” he replied in a tone that suggested I should not press the subject further. Still, it felt like he was hiding too much, and the longer I sat in his presence, the more it nagged at me.

  “You know, I still don't feel comfortable about being sent off so soon after arriving here.”

  “It's a little late to back out now.”

  “I'm not planning on backing out. I would just like more of an explanation as to why this is necessary.”

  His voice rose a notch, “I already told you why it's necessary.”

  We spent the rest of the meal in silence. While my mind was swimming with questions, I knew better than to irritate Jack with them. The mood had already been soured, and I had no idea how to fix it.

  That night, I missed Liam more than I ever had before. How I longed to be wrapped in the comfort of his strong arms with my head on his chest, listening to his steady stable heart beat.

  As my mind raced on past midnight, my desperation for something familiar grew. Though I had told myself that I wouldn't speak to Liam again until after the wedding, so as not to cause drama between Jack and I, my need for him was overwhelming. I turned my bedside table light on and reached for my phone, taking a deep breath before I pressed the button that would dial his number.

  It rang twice before Liam answered, his voice filled with concern, “Melita, what is it? What's happened?”

  At first, I was startled by his reaction, but then I remembered the time.

  “I just miss you,” I whispered, trying to hide my despair.

  “I miss you too. But it's so late; I thought something had happened.”

  “I'm sorry. I just needed to hear your voice.”

  His tone steadied. “Is it bad there?”

  It took everything in me to hide my overwhelming emotions. “It's not bad, just different.”

  “I don't think you'd call me at nearly two in the morning for different.”

  “The wedding is just stressing me out. There's so much to do and not a whole lot of time.”

  “You are the absolute worst liar in the world, do you know that?”

  “I don't want to talk about what's wrong right now. I just want to . . . listen to you breathe, and hear your voice. I have nothing here that reminds me of home. No one to turn to for comfort. I just . . . need you right now.”

  “I can be on my way in an hour.”

  Family, I reminded myself. You're doing this for your family. You have to stay strong for your family. Everything will work out in the end. It always does.

  “I'm sorry to have called you so late. Everything's fine. I just . . . wanted to hear your voice. We should both get to bed. I have another big day tomorrow,” I said solemnly.

  “Are you sure you don't need for me to come get you?”

  “No. I'll be fine.” I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but even though it was true, it would feel like a betrayal to Jack, so I ended the conversation on a simple goodbye before hanging up and letting my tears carry me away to dreamland.

  At eight in the morning, my phone alarm woke me with a start. My flight was set to leave at ten forty-five in the morning, and Jack didn't arrive any earlier than needed to load my baggage in the trunk of the limo and be on our way.

  The drive was nice and quiet, partly because I was still half asleep and partly because there didn't seem to be anything left to say. It was far too late for me to back out. Whatever lay before me in the coming week, I would have to face with as much strength as I had used to endure everything up to this point.

  “I can't go with you into the airport,” Jack told me as we pulled up to the drop-off area. It was best that the paparazzi didn't know that Jack Kemble was sending his bride to be off to some kinky fetish school. The tabloids would have a field day with that information. “I promise that things will be different when you get back. Better. You'll see,” he tried to reassure me.

  Before I left the limo, I was given one of Jack's trademark kisses on the side of the mouth, and I could feel a strange sense of intimacy radiating from him, as if in that moment, he considered trying for more. The thought made my heart beat faster, even though I wasn't sure if I wanted him to kiss me full on the lips or not. Part of me felt like he hadn't earned it yet.

  The flight to Sacramento was long and exhausting. Thankfully, I was able to sleep through most of it. By the time I arrived at the Sacramento airport, gathered my bags, and was in the limo headed toward Napa Valley, it was already eight o'clock at night. The only thing I had been looking forward to about the entire trip was seeing the Napa Valley wine country, and it was the one thing I was denied. I scowled into the darkness. Oh well, there was always the drive back.

  After what felt like forever, the limo finally turned off of the main road and began snaking up a private driveway. Light shown through the tinted windows as we pulled up to a building that appeared to be a small resort. There were no signs on the outside to indicate the type of business, and for a moment, I wondered if I had been driven to the wrong place by mistake. Secretly, I wouldn't have minded. This place certainly looked a lot more inviting than the dingy building I had pictured inside my head.

  “Here we are, ma'am,” the driver said as he opened the door for me.

  “Where's here?” I asked curiously, looking towards the doors to the resort.

  “The Napa Valley Body Awareness Resort.”

  Just then, an elderly gentleman in a suit and tie came out to greet me. “You must be Miss Ngyuen,”

  “Yes.” I shook his withered hand gingerly.

  It was just as I feared. This man was old enough to be my grandfather. The thought of him teaching me anything about my body was absolutely repulsive. I knew I shouldn't have come.

  “I'm Master Neil. I'll be your instructor for tomorrow, but for now, allow me to show you to your room. You've had a long trip, and I'm sure you're tired. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, sir.”

  I allowed Master Neil to take my suit case, and I followed him into the building and to the front desk where I was required to fill out paperwork.

  The sound of the limousine driving away left a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now I was stuck here, for better or worse, for an entire week, with no way to escape.

  When I was done with the paperwork, Master Neil showed me to my room, a surprisingly lavish suite on the second floor of the resort. I sighed in relief at the normalcy of it.

  “Class will begin promptly at ten o'clock in the morning. I will expect you to be downstairs and ready to participate. You said you have not yet eaten. Please, let me know what I can have our chefs prepare for you.”

  “I'll just take a turkey sandwich on wheat,” I replied, still admiring the décor of the room. To be honest, I was too nervous to look Master Neil in the eyes—too afraid that I might see impure intentions behind a courteous facade.

  Des
pite the seemingly normal ambiance of the place, my mind could not forget where I was. Somewhere in this resort, I knew there was a dungeon, just as there was inside Jack Kemble's mansion. It amazed me how innocent things could look on the outside, while harboring such dark secrets within.

  Master Neil left, and I sighed in relief, walking into the bedroom and throwing myself down on the plush queen-size bed. Everything in the room was draped in gold, from the comforter, to the curtains, to the sofa in the small living room. Even the picture frames that held the landscape paintings were painted gold. The only things that weren't gold were the carpet, which was a honey cream color, the walls, which were more of a honeysuckle yellow, and the furniture, which was all mahogany.

  I felt strangely at peace in the room, despite knowing where I was at. It would be my safe haven from all the craziness I would experience in the coming week—the only place I would be able to hide from everything.

  It only took twenty minutes for the sandwich to be delivered. I ate it at the small dining room table while looking over a pamphlet for the resort. The Napa Valley Body Awareness Resort, it said on the front, with a picture of the resort in the daytime. It appeared even more beautiful in the light than it had in the darkness, with soft tones of red clay set against the backdrop of rolling hills and grape vines, just as Jack had said it would be. Inside, the pamphlet discussed finding awareness of oneself through sexual experimentation and power play. The resort promised to broaden my horizons.

  I couldn't help but smirk at the professionalism of it all. Perhaps Jack had been right. Maybe I had nothing to fear from my stay here. One thing was for certain, I would find out tomorrow.

  After lazily consuming my sandwich, I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. Nervous anticipation helped to keep me awake until two o'clock in the morning, and I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get a decent nights sleep.

  It took everything in me to drag myself out of bed the next morning and get ready. The closer it got to the time I was supposed to go downstairs, the more I wished the school had been in an urban area. At least that way, I could have made a last minute escape. My stomach was all nerves and nausea, twisted too tightly for hunger. I knew I'd probably regret it later, but I decided to skip breakfast and wait until the very last minute to go downstairs to the lobby.

  I was surprised to find three other women waiting in the lobby when I went downstairs. Two of them were around my age, while the third was slightly older than my mother. They smiled brightly as I sat next to the older woman on the sofa. One of them, a petite blonde, began to speak, but almost as soon as she opened her mouth, Master Neil rounded the corner to greet us.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he said with enthusiasm.

  “Good morning,” came the small chorus of polite responses.

  “Today we'll begin with a tour. After that, I have a questionnaire that I need you all to fill out. Then I have a video for you to watch before we break for lunch. After lunch, we'll go over the rules of the school and an overview of the classes. At that time, you may ask any questions you have. After the overview, we'll have a lecture until the end of the day,” he explained.

  It didn't sound bad at all, and I sighed in relief, thankful that today's curriculum didn't appear to be too bizarre.

  “Shall we?” Master Neil gestured towards a hallway that I hadn't noticed the night before.

  Without further delay, everyone stood up to follow. The first room Master Neil took us to was a small classroom, barely large enough to fit the sixteen desks that were in it. He explained that we would spend our lecture portion of the course in there. The next room he showed us was the dining room, which looked like a typical resort restaurant. Master Neil informed us that the master chef was available at all times to prepare whatever our hearts desired within healthy limitations. “A healthy body produces a healthy mind,” he added before moving on to show us the fitness center and indoor pool that we were allowed to use during our off time. There was also a laundry facility and day spa on the premises.

  The next room he showed us was the one I had been anticipating since arriving, the dreaded dungeon. Inside, the set up was far more impressive than what Jack had in his mansion. I was certain that if there was a device created for restraining someone or inflicting pain on them, it could be found in this room. From a spanking bench to a St. Andrew's Cross, the room was jam-packed with furniture. Manacles hung from the ceiling with chains that ran to the walls where wenches could be used to raise or lower the victim. It was a bit extravagant, but I would have expected nothing less from a BDSM school.

  “This is our dungeon,” Master Neil explained, as if it wasn't obvious. “We'll be doing most of our hands-on training in here.”

  The familiar knot twisted itself in my stomach. Hands-on training. That meant they would eventually end up getting physical with me. Perhaps even Master Neil. It was a sickening thought.

  The final room he showed us was a small windowless room that only had three chairs and a restraining table in it. For some reason, it made me feel claustrophobic, and I instantly disliked the room.

  “Some of you will also get hands-on training in here as well,” Master Neil told us before leading us back to the classroom. “Sit wherever you like and begin filling out the questionnaire that's been provided,” he indicated to the stacks of papers that were placed on every desk, despite there only being four of us. “I'll return in about an hour to collect them from you and start the video.”

  Everyone seemed eager to learn, filling up the front row. I took the seat closest to the door, in case I had thoughts of making my grand escape, not that I actually would. Where could I possibly escape to in the middle of nowhere? Liam. I could always call Liam, I told myself as I stared off into space.

  “I'm Mary,” the older lady sitting next to me introduced herself, breaking me from my thoughts.

  “Oh, hello. I'm Melita.” I smiled at her, though I knew I had probably failed to make it look genuine. It wasn't that I wasn't happy to meet her; it was just my overwhelming nerves hampering my social skills.

  “This is exciting, isn't it?” Her large brown eyes had a sparkle in them.

  “I suppose.” I looked back down to my questionnaire, grasping the provided pencil in hand to begin filling it out.

  The packet was thick, and as I skimmed through it, I realized that it would, in fact, take an hour to complete. I did my best to stifle an annoyed sigh before jotting my name, age, and the date on the top line. After I had filled out the basics, I scanned down to question number one.

  The first page appeared to be all medical related questions. It asked about medical conditions, psychological conditions, any medications that I was taking, and if I was a drug user.

  The next page got into the grittier stuff, such as my level of sexual experience and experience with BDSM. I answered “none” to both questions. Then it asked about my level of interest in various activities. The list itself went on for seven pages, and I was certain it encompassed every sexual thing any person on the face of the entire planet had ever come up with. Some were absolutely repulsive, like forced bed wetting and being used as someone's toilet. I was supposed to put a number between zero and five next to each act to indicate how willing I was to try it. Most of the stuff seemed absolutely horrible. Things like asphyxiation and needle play, I knew I would never want to do. It didn't seem normal to me that anyone would.

  The more I sat there and read the list, the more repulsed I felt. I swear, the first time someone tries to pee on me, I'm calling Liam to come get me and calling off this whole stupid marriage, I told myself. In a fit of frustration, I zeroed the entire list, not even bothering to go over each item individually. For the rest of the packet, I wrote none, no, or zero wherever the most negative and unwilling responses would go. I did not want to be here, and I planned to make it known.

  Having hurriedly completed the questionnaire before the other girls, I simply sat and watched them in my peripheral vision as they fin
ished theirs. They all seemed very attentive to the questions, going over each one carefully. One of the girls, a modelesque brunette, had a smile on her face through the entire thing, and Mary seemed to be writing a paragraph for each question that required a short written response. It took her all the way up until Master Neil returned to finish, and even then I wasn't sure if she had fully completed it.

  Quietly, he collected our papers and then went to the wall mounted flat screen in the corner of the room to set up a video before leaving again. I looked across the row of seats, hoping that someone would be interested in conversation, but all eyes were glued to the television as the video began to play.

  “Welcome to the Napa Valley Body Awareness Resort,” it began with an image of the resort. “We take pride in providing the most professional and intimate body awareness classes in the entire country. Our top of the line establishment is well equipped to train our students in a variety of fields, including: domination, submission, bondage, and kink play. Our professional staff will guide you every step of the way, providing you with a comfortable and safe environment to explore your sexuality.”

  About fifteen minutes into the video, Master Neil peaked his head inside the door. “Melita, can I see you for a moment?”

  My breath caught as I realized it was only day one and I was already in trouble. Hopefully, he wouldn't spank me for it, as I had seen a girl in the video receive punishment for being disobedient.

  The other girls didn't take their eyes off the screen as I slunk out off the classroom, following Master Neil down the hall to a small office. He gestured to one of the two chairs that faced his desk and then quietly closed the door as I took a seat.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the answers on your questionnaire,” he began, sliding into the plush black office chair across from me. “You didn't want to come here, did you?”

  “No,” I admitted quickly. “My fiancé signed me up for these classes. I have absolutely zero interest in BDSM, as is indicated on my questionnaire.”

 

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