"Cry all you like, Sarah. But answer me at once, or pack your bags and get out of my house!” He let go of her hair and went to sit on the couch nearby. She remained kneeling, with her head bowed.
"Oh, Lawrence. I'm sorry! I didn't think you really meant it! I mean, I only showered a few hours ago at home, and I didn't want to muss my hair and..."
Lawrence cut her off with a wave of his hand. “So,” he said in a voice as cold as steel, “you didn't feel like it. You decided that you didn't feel like showering, even though I gave you an express command to do so. Here you are, accepted by me for training, and in the first ten minutes of your stay, you already commit an infraction of a very serious nature."
Sarah looked up and tried to speak, as if to protest his remarks.
"Quiet!"
She clamped her mouth shut.
"You want to say that it is not serious. I tell you that it is. It is serious because I gave you an express order and you disobeyed me deliberately and cunningly. I heard the shower water running. You planned to deceive me. You're a disgrace."
So saying, Lawrence left the poor girl, kneeling and naked, crying there in his study. Without another word, he shut the door behind him. Left to herself, Sarah burst into fresh tears. What a dreadful man he was! How could she have considered coming here? Before she could decide what to do next, the door opened and Lawrence came toward her. She saw that he was carrying a small paddle. Instinctively, she covered her buttocks with her hands. Lawrence came back to the couch and sat again in front of her.
Very quietly he said, “You are new to this. I know you are used to having your way with men like Julian who only fancy they control you, when in fact you have them wrapped around your little finger. He was not your Master. He obviously did not teach you the value of obedience. I should dismiss you here and now, but I am willing to give you another chance. Here are your choices."
Sarah looked up at him hopefully. As he spoke, she realized that she very much wanted to stay. Though she was chagrined, upset, and even a little afraid, she was also excited. Here, at last, might be the man of her dreams. He had seen through her; he understood her. No, Julian had never been her Master. Would this man Lawrence be the one who finally tamed her? She listened, holding her breath.
"You may either pack your things and go, or you will submit to a paddling as your punishment. I hadn't intended to use this so soon, but your infraction demands it. I shall paddle you until I am satisfied that you are thoroughly chastened. Now, then. What is it to be?"
"The paddle,” Sarah whispered.
"Very well, then.” As Lawrence spoke, Sarah moved to rise. She was used to draping herself in a pleasing fashion over Julian's knee for punishment. “Who told you to move, Sarah? Back on your knees at once!” Confused, Sarah dropped back down to her kneeling position. Lawrence placed his hand on her head and directed it down until her forehead was touching the floor. She was crouched down on all fours.
"Lift your ass high, you silly girl. Did that man teach you nothing?” Mortified, Sarah lifted her shapely behind into the air. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, waiting for the first sting of the paddle. Without warning, the wooden blade caught her just under the soft flesh of her buttocks. It seared her thigh as it sent her sprawling from the force of the blow. Sarah yelled and clutched herself at the spot where she had been struck. Julian had never hit her with such force.
"Back into position at once!” Lawrence barked at her. Stunned, she obeyed, still clutching and rubbing her reddening skin. “Hands behind your head, Sarah. Now.” He spoke softly, but with such authority that there was no question that she must obey. Terrified, Sarah did as she was told. Her forehead against the floor was the only thing that held her steady as she tried to prepare herself for the next blow. It came with just as much force as the first one. This time it caught her square on the ass, which was easier to bear. Again and again he smacked her until she felt her skin was on fire. Sarah was almost angry with herself as she realized that her perverse little pussy was responding as always.
She was a river of desire even as the tears were streaming down her face. She longed to press her thighs together to give her poor, throbbing clit some relief. But somehow, she maintained her position. At last, he was satisfied with his labors. Roughly, oblivious of her tears or her arousal, he pulled her up by her hair.
In a very calm voice, Lawrence said, “Now, then, Sarah. We will try this again. Go to your room and shower and perfume yourself. When you are prepared, meet me here in my study. Go!"
Still weeping, she scurried out of the room, rubbing her bottom as she ran.
Chapter Three
Lawrence was at his desk when Sarah appeared at his door. He turned toward her and nodded for her to enter. He could see that she had followed his directions this time. Her hair was wet and combed back neatly from her face. As she came to him, he saw that her eyes were still red from crying. She was biting her lower lip nervously as she knelt before him. In her present state—naked with no makeup on her youthful, smooth cheeks, and her hair wet and curling behind her ears—she resembled nothing so much as a little girl. If not for her flared hips, ample breasts, and neat pubic patch, she might have been a schoolgirl. Sarah was looking down and did not see the tenderness in Lawrence's face as he gazed at her.
Her head remained bowed as he began to speak. “Sarah, I see you have followed instructions this time. I trust you will appreciate the value of obeying to the letter in the future. Now let us say no more about it. I wish to discuss your duties and functions while you are here.
"A good slave, as I have told you, must also be a worthy partner and lover. He or she must be able to maintain a household and keep her Master happy and comfortable. I will observe your ability to maintain the house and instruct you as I deem necessary. You will also learn the art of massage so you can soothe your Master's body when he requires it. Those will be the tasks at hand for the next few days. Once I see that we are on track in those areas, we will move to your sexual technique."
Ignoring her blush, he continued, “Now, I understand, of course, that you are here to learn. You do not arrive already perfect. You will make mistakes. You will be corrected for these mistakes. I say ‘corrected,’ though you may regard it as punishment. I prefer to think of it as a reminder. There is nothing like the feel of a leather lash or the fire of a stroke from the cane to remind you of what you are and to whom you belong. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir,” Sarah whispered. Lawrence smiled at her use of the word “Sir,” but did not remark upon it. Perhaps it indicated that she at last was ready to take him seriously.
"Further, although we have discussed this in theory in our talks over the past several weeks, please be clear about your ownership. While I don't claim to be your Master, for the period you occupy my house, you belong to me. That means that your body is not yours to touch in any manner other than I expressly permit. You may not masturbate while alone. Ever. That is my cunt; that is my ass; those are my breasts. I own them, and I own the pleasure or pain that you may derive from my use of them. That is your place. It is your lot and what you have chosen to endure. Do I make myself crystal clear on this point?"
Sarah nodded, hoping he couldn't see the gush of desire and longing his remarks had created in her. His cunt, his ass, his breasts. His! God, to be owned in a such a complete and perfect fashion—how she yearned for that, how she craved it.
"Good. Then we will begin. Here is your apron. You will wear this when performing your household duties. When you are done, you may hang it on the door in the kitchen. Stand up now and put it on, and then follow me.” He dropped the garment near the kneeling woman. She picked it up. It was a full apron, made of soft, heavy flannel. Sarah was glad of that on this cold winter day. She stood and slipped the apron over her head. Then she tied the sash behind her. She felt rather silly wearing an apron with nothing on underneath, but presumed she would get used to it. As Lawrence had already left the room, Sarah hurrie
d after him. She followed him downstairs and through the front hall to the kitchen.
It was a lovely, old-fashioned kitchen with what looked to be the original stone floors. There was a bright, crackly fire in the big fireplace in one corner of the room. A large bay window allowed the feeble winter sunlight to filter through the old-fashioned thick windowpanes. In the middle of the room stood a long table of smooth blond wood. In the center of the table was a large vase of beautiful flowers, artfully arranged. A beautifully restored antique nickel-plated oven sat next to a very modern double-door refrigerator.
With a delighted smile, Sarah exclaimed, “It's lovely!"
"Thank you. It's functional as well. Your duties here will be to prepare our breakfast and lunch each day, to clean up after the meals, to keep the kitchen spotless, and to arrange the flowers I bring home. I will inform you each night what and when our meals for the following day will be. I will prepare dinner. Do you have any questions so far?"
"No, Lawrence."
"Good. Then let us move on to the rest of the house and I will explain your other duties.” He swept out of the kitchen, leaving her to trot along behind him. “You will see to the dusting downstairs. I have a woman who comes in for the floors and laundry, so don't worry about that. Upstairs you will be required to keep the beds made and the bathrooms clean. You will find everything you need in the cabinet in your bathroom, or under the sink in the kitchen. Now, then, are you hungry?"
"Excuse me?” Sarah was not expecting the question. She was busy trying to remember all the things that would be required of her.
"I asked, are you hungry? Kindly pay attention, Sarah. I don't like to have to repeat myself."
"Oh! Um, no, I guess not. Not really."
"Well, then. Get to work. You may start with the bathrooms. Come to me in my study when you are ready, and I will inspect your work.” Sarah just stood there, looking at him. He raised his eyebrows at her but did not say another word. Again biting her lower lip, Sarah turned and hurried off to her bathroom.
An hour passed before Sarah returned to Lawrence's study. He seemed to be immersed in his work when she entered; he didn't look up. Not sure what to do, she knelt near his chair, hoping he was aware of her presence. She bowed her head and waited. He continued to write.
"I'm here, Lawrence,” she said.
"I can see that, Sarah. In the future, please have more patience. When you come in, simply kneel and be quiet. I will get to you in time.” Sarah chafed at this rebuke, but said nothing. At last he finished with his work and looked over at the young woman kneeling naked on the rug at his feet.
"You may speak,” he said simply, with the air of a king.
"Well,” Sarah began, “I have dusted downstairs. I have cleaned the bathrooms and made your bed. Mine was already made and the kitchen was clean, so there wasn't that much to do."
"All right, then, let's go see how you have fared.” Lawrence pushed his chair back and stood up. Sarah stood as well and followed her trainer out the door. First he went to his bedroom. It was a large room furnished with old mahogany pieces. There was a yellow silk-covered couch placed under the large window. Against another wall was a long, narrow table about waist height. At the head of the bed was an imposing headboard of dark wood with intricate carvings of leaves and pinecones. At the foot of the bed were two large posts, also beautifully carved. The bed was heaped with down comforters topped by a dark blue silk coverlet. Lawrence inspected the corner tucks and ran his hand over the smooth fabric of the coverlet. “Well done,” he said. Sarah fairly beamed with pleasure at the praise.
Once in the bathroom, Lawrence looked around and seemed reasonably pleased. He walked over to the toilet and lifted the seat. Then he took a cotton swab and ran it under the rim of the bowl. It came up covered in rust.
"And what is this, Sarah? Does this look clean to you?” He held the offending cotton close to her face.
Sarah flushed. “How in the world am I expected to know that's there? I cleaned the bowl as best I could!"
"No, obviously you didn't. I see it's already time for another lesson. Not only because you failed to clean the toilet properly, but also because of the impertinence of your response. Bend over the bathtub and don't move."
Sarah stood stock-still, staring at her trainer as if he were mad. His eyes flashed as he moved toward her. Sighing deeply, she dropped to the cold porcelain of the tub and bent over it.
"You have yet to learn grace when receiving a lesson, Sarah. I expect you to move promptly when ordered to do so. And not one sound, not a protest, not even a sigh should escape those pretty little lips of yours. Do you understand?"
Sarah nodded as she crouched, bent and exposed to him. Lawrence looked down at her lovely form draped over the side of the tub. Her skin looked creamy and soft. Her ass was round and, though small, pleasingly shaped. He could just see her sex peeking out from between her legs. If Lawrence was moved by what he saw, he gave no indication. He left the room without a word, but in a moment, he was back, with a small riding crop in hand.
"Prepare for a beating,” he said. “Consider this a reminder that doing an adequate job is not the same as doing your duty.” Lawrence began to smack her bottom with the crop. The sound of the leather against her skin was magnified in the tiled bathroom. Sarah was quiet at first, but as he continued to whip her, she began to breathe heavily. He covered her asscheeks and thighs with the crop methodically, until her skin turned from its normally fair color to a fiery red. Sarah was moaning and breathing so hard that Lawrence was afraid for a moment she was going to hyperventilate.
He stopped then, and stood back. Still, Sarah's ragged breathing continued and Lawrence noticed that her hips were almost imperceptibly moving against the porcelain. Reaching down, he touched her hot little pussy and found she was sopping! She moaned and tried to press against his fingers. He pulled his hand back. So the little slut-girl liked her little lessons, did she? But this was not for her pleasure; this was a reminder of her duties.
Dropping the crop, Lawrence reached down and roughly pulled her to her feet. Spinning her toward him, he hissed in her ear, “Thank me for your lesson, slave."
"Thank you, Sir,” she managed to articulate. He could see further evidence of her arousal in the flush of her cheeks and neck. He said nothing, but told her to raise her arms above her head. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out two soft suede wrist cuffs. He quickly secured each wrist to the shower rod with clips he kept for the purpose. With a flick of his toe to her ankles, he spread Sarah's legs far apart, so that she was a human X there before him.
"I'll leave you here to cool down, slut girl. Since the crop gives you such evident pleasure, we will seek alternative methods to train you. I'll be back in a while.” So saying, he turned and left her there, naked, flushed, with her ass on fire and her mind reeling.
Sarah stood quietly for some moments, adjusting to her position. She did not like to be bound and left like this. Make no mistake—she liked to be bound. But she didn't like to be left alone. She was far too used to being the constant center of attention. It made her uneasy to be left totally alone. She felt helpless and a little ridiculous standing there shackled to a shower rod.
Trying to calm herself, Sarah focused on the events that had just passed. He was right. She couldn't deny that she had become very aroused as he was whipping her. The heat of each stroke changed almost instantly from pain to pleasure. Each blow seemed to excite her more until her aching pussy longed for some direct attention. She was embarrassed that her arousal had been so obvious to Lawrence.
Several minutes passed. Finally Sarah was able to get control of her breathing and of her desires. She wished she could reach down and wipe the wetness from her pussy, but of course, she could not. Sarah's wrists began to ache and she wondered impatiently when her trainer would come to let her down.
When Lawrence returned at last, Sarah looked up expectantly. Her arms were asleep and she was very uncomfortable. “I have just come to
check on you. I don't intend to let you down for a while longer. This is perhaps a more effective reminder for you than a beating."
"Oh, please, Sir!” she entreated. “My arms are asleep and I really need to—that is, I, uh...” She stammered to a stop, her face suffusing to a pretty pink as she spoke.
"You need to what?” he asked guilelessly, knowing full well what she meant, by the way she squirmed as she spoke. When she said nothing, he prompted her. “Come, come. Here you are naked before me. I know your secrets; I know your dreams. Surely you aren't too shy to tell me you need to go to the bathroom, are you? Silly girl."
She blushed again and nodded.
"No, no, I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you need, and I will consider your request.” He smiled, taking obvious pleasure in her discomfiture.
"Oh, dear!” she sighed. But seeing that he was determined, she whispered, “I have to go pee."
He smiled at the little-girl quality of her remark. “You have to go pee, do you? There, now, that wasn't difficult, was it?"
He released her bonds as he continued. “Don't you understand yet? For the moment, you belong to me. All of you. That means your modesty as well. I own your modesty. Do you understand? One day you will find a Master who will cherish and adore you. When you give your heart and soul to him, he will give them back to you, enhanced by his devotion and coupled with his own. In order to really effect an exchange of power, you must truly give of yourself. Not just that which pleases or titillates you, but everything. Including your modesty. I know this is difficult for you. I have observed your reticence.” As he spoke, he had gently pressed her to sit on the side of the tub. He took her slender arms in his hands and was massaging the life back into them.
He continued, “I have an idea of how to claim your modesty. I will give you the chance to surrender it to me, and at the same time to relieve yourself. Stay here and do not move. I'll be back in a moment.” So saying, Lawrence fairly ran out of the room. In a moment, he returned with a large metal bowl from the kitchen. He set it on the floor and helped Sarah to her feet.
Sarah's Awakening Page 5