The Mansion (Chapter 2)

Chapter II

He: When you wake up the next morning panic strikes almost immediately as you notice that while you were sl**ping your dress has been taken away. There is another thing: next to the gate is a large bordeaux-red leather covered cushion with some sort of a note on it. You sit on the bed for a while, the sheets wrapped around your body, suddenly feeling extremely naked and vulnerable. Finally, holding the sheets around yourself as tight as you can, you step out of bed and pick up the note. "Prepare yourself and as soon as you are ready, you are to wait here on your knees." Why does this make you suddenly hurry? You move to the bathroom, wash and do your hair. Instinctively, you feel yourself rushing to get ready. It must have been the note and the fact that someone had been in the room overnight without you noticing. In less than fifteen minutes you are kneeling down on the large cushion. It feels like an hour but in fact it has been less than five minutes, when you see a pair of boots walking to the gate and opening it. You fight the urge to look up, focussing your eyes on the pair of shining Spanish reding boots in front of you. You get the feeling you better not create reasons for punishment.



"Stand up, Alexus." My voice is friendly but firm. My hand reaches out. Keeping your eyes firmly concentrated on the floor, surprised by the unexpected galantry, you hold my hand and you get up on your feet. My arm wraps around your waist and in a fashion - almost as if you were taken to the dance floor by your lover - you are led back to the living room. Feeling the touch of clothes on your bear skin, a hand touching your hand makes you shiver - underlining your nakedness and the contrast.
There is a nice breakfast and you are allowed to sit and eat. There is hot and strong coffee, toast, eggs, thinly sliced somked Scottish salmon and various juices. The contrast between your nakedness and the luxury of this breakfast is difficult to cope with, sitting here totally naked, staring at your plate and not being allowed to say one word. There is so much you want to ask, so much you need to know. Somehow having to be silent is what is the most difficult since it takes away all control, every possibility to have any influence on the situation.

Music is softly playing. You recognize the transparent, almost naïve tones of Medieval flute play and the high voices of a nuns choir singing a Madrigal. But that only underlines the silence and when I finally start to speak it is as if a bomb goes off..
"Ok, this is your situation. I'm sure you are expecting David to walk in any minute. Well he won't. He's in the States and he will not come here. Not until I tell him your training has come to the point where he will be satisfied. In other words, the harder you try, the sooner you'll have a chance to be reunited with him again. The objective of this thing is to improve your overall abilities and especially your behavior."
I let my words sink in for a while, enjoying my coffee and observing you closely. Watching you as the gravity of the situation hits you and your fork stops halfway to your mouth.
"Yes, this does mean you are stuck here until both David and I are satisfied with you. You've got nowhere to go, no clothes, no money, nothing, meaning that you are de facto a prisoner here. As you see, it is a very comfortable prison, but still a prison. If you work hard, it will be comfortable and relatively nice to be in. But I can assure you it can get a lot less comfortable if you plan not to cooperate." I pour you another cup of coffee and gently touch your hand for a brief moment.
"Now try to relax and listen carefully because I am going to explain some basic rules. Things will only be told to you once and I will expect you to act accordingly. If you don't, you'll be punished - even if there is the slightest mistake. We're looking for absolute perfection here. These are the basic rules: You will not speak unless spoken to and I'll expect you to be polite and make sure your language reflects your position. You will be addressed by name and you will address me as Sir. You'll be naked at all times, at least during the initial stages and you will keep your head down at all times. Do not try to cover yourself. If you do not need to use them, keep your hands behind your back. Finally, you will obey every order immediately, without hesitation or protest and without thinking twice. There are no safewords, no escape routes. You will not be asked to do anything you can not do or handle, but I will be the judge of that, not you. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir," you reply quietly. After God knows how many hours it sounds strange to hear your own voice.

"I'll make sure you will get some books and magazines to read in your room so you can relax a little during rest hours. When you are in your own room you may move and act as you please, with two exceptions. As soon as you wake up in the morning you must make sure you get yourself ready and on the cushion as quickly as you can and you won't be allowed to speak, not even to yourself. Now, let me show you where you are."



I stand up and put my arm around you again. Folding your hands on your back you follow.
"You may lift your head during the tour and look around."

The living room appears to be the center in a rather large, T-shaped one story mansion. You do not immediately recognize the style but I explain the mansion as at least 400 years old, originally built as a large fortified farm and used as a stud-farm for two ages before it was restaured and rebuilt into its current shape. To the left are the room you spent the night in and there are several other rooms you do not get to see. You assume these must be bedrooms, probably including mine. The living room itself is connected to a large, half open and very well equipped kitchen, traditional style with a stove in the middle and actual local home made hams and sausages haning from the ceiling, accompanied by garlic-strings and some local vegetables you do not recognize immediately. The house looks like there must be staff to run it, but you do not see any of them. However, since things are in an impeccable condition and the atmosphere is much like a luxury hotel, you know this can not be done by me alone. And, I do not look like the household type. To the right are what look like service rooms - washing machine and such.



The leg of the T takes your breath away the second you enter. It is a former indoor horse training facility and still very much breathes that atmosphere. I explain the design is an exact copy of the world famous French horse training center in Chantilly castle, near Paris, where horse and female ballet dancers practise together and perform their outstanding shows. In the middle is a huge empty dressage ring that must be at least thirty yards long and fifteen wide. The walls are covered with all sorts of equipment. You can only start to imagine what all that is for. At the far end is a door that leads to a very well equipped dungeon that makes you shiver. Right and left of the entrance door to the dungeon are several different cages with different dimensions, from very small to reasonably large. Somehow the heating system here must be perfect, because even though you are totally naked you are not cold.
We walk outside. On each side of the leg of the T is an open area, surrounded by a high gate with lots of bushes and trees around. The two open areas each have a specific character. One is a beautiful and rather large Toscane-design garden with a large open grass area in the middle, surrounded by very tall, arrow shaped coniferae reaching high into the blue air. In the back is a little pond.
The other area is quite different and a lot more intimidating. It is a large open sandy area with various poles and stakes and even something that looks very much like a medieval scaffold. Again I do a little explaining.
"As you may have spotted, this house is in a very private area. The path you walked on when you came here is not a public road and in fact the last miles you traveled in the car were on private territory. The woods, as far as you can see, belong to the mansion and are protected by a gate and dogs. That includes protection against people going out......."
I take you back inside and place you in the middle of the training ring.
"Alright Alexus. Stand up straight, spread your legs and raise your hands above your head. To start with I want to see and feel what you are like." Soft violin music is playing in the background.



She: My mind struggles to deal with all the information you have given me. My emotions come over me in waves. Anger at being here like this with you, and anger at David for having sent me here. I resist the urge to reach out and scratch your eyes out. I have fear threatening to overtake me, fear promising to control me as it always does. I try to sort out my thoughts while standing here. I am David's slave. It is his wish that I be here. This is reality, not fantasy. I want to please him, so I decide to go along with things for now. What will happen to me? Will I be able to handle it? What if I cant? This is all so unreal, my brain is on overload. Again I resist my initial urges, to run away as fast as I can. I know you are waiting for me to obey your instructions. I wonder if you can hear my heart pounding, surely you can. I will obey, for now. I raise my hands slowly over my head and clasp them tightly together. I stand tall and calm myself again. I am overwhelmed with the need to look at you, to search your eyes for signs of…. something, anything, but I keep my eyes on the ground as instructed. I focus as I have been taught, to obey. I feel your eyes begin to roam slowly over my naked body, missing nothing.



He: I take a few steps back. You hear the distinctive clicks of riding boots on the coblestones that cover the floor of the training ring. My eyes such in your silhouet first, identifying the distinguishing crives, roundings and shapes before sooming in on the details - eyes, hair, neck. I slowly walk around you a few times, never touching you, just looking in complete silence. You hear me walking to one of the equipment racks. When I come back I push your head up with one finger under your chin. A thin but nonetheless effective stainless steel collar is clicked around your neck. Very quickly matching steel cuffs are put on your ankles and wrists. You stare at them. They are fairly broad - about three inches, but thin and with rings attached on either side. They have a built in locking system. The clicks seem to make an awful sound, as if they will never be taken off again. Finally a matching steel band is clicked around your waist. This one has four rings, two on each side and one front and back.
"This is a training set. For the duration of your stay you wear these at all times. A handy way to be able to restrain you immediately without having to go through all sorts of trouble and a very nice and constant reminder of your position and the reason for you being here," I say as my fingers trace the sides of the steel, feeling the sharp contrast between the coldness of the steel and the softness of the skin it now surrounds.



Two ropes are lowered from the ceiling. Snap hooks are connected to the rings of your wristcuffs. Now you are f***ed to stand like this. The good news is that it is slightly easier then having to hold your arms up by yourself. But now you're totally defenseless. Your stomach makes a full turn when you think about the process that is about to start. It is even more humiliating than you expected it to be. You are subjected to a very scrupulous and detailed examination and your tears already flow by the time I examine your ears and pull them to test their sensitivity. Your mouth is f***ed open, my fingers glide along your teeth. Totally disregarding your tears and distress the examination progresses, squeezing your flesh, testing your muscles, your breasts, your nipples. By the time your bottom cheeks are pulled apart and my finger pushes against your tight anus you are sobbing uncontrollably, feeling like a piece of meat.

Then your labia are pulled apart. "Noooo," you yell. "No please, not there." There is no reaction just efficiency. Your wetness shows, you know. A finger gently slips inside you, but it doesn't feel gentle at all. It feels like a terrible invasion. The total lack of response, the silence, is unbearable and again the soft music playing faintly in the back only underlines this. Finally I seem to be satisfied. My hand grabs your chin and my fingers push your cheeks between your teeth, forcing you to open your mouth. You see me reaching into my pocket. You can not see what exactly it is but soon you feel your tongue burning. A clamp has been placed on it, a sharp and strong one. It hurts terribly. There is a chain attached to it, which is clipped to the front ring of the waistband. Now you are f***ed to keep your head down and your tongue is pulled out of your wide opened mouth. "I do remember telling you, you are not allowed to speak, Alexus. I am sure this will be a very good reminder." It is said in a very casual tone, as if it is totally unimportant. I walk out of the room, going back into the house, leaving you alone.



It hurts terribly but the humiliation is five times worse at least. You are f***ed to stand like this, suffer the pain, your tongue stretched to its limits, drooling heavily. You can not close your mouth. You must look like an idiot this way and you see your own saliva dripping on the floor, slowly forming a little pool. You close your eyes. The tears come again. It hurts. It really hurts and the pain increases rapidly as your tongue and jaws start to cramp. You even forget about your arms and shoulders getting tired and painful. You don't know how long it has been before I return and remove the clamp.
"I take it you have learned your lesson." Again that damn casual voice.
"Yezz Sil" you try. Talking hurts and it is difficult. Your tongue feels swollen. Again you get no response. Instead your arms are released and brought to your back. If only they were cuffed there, instead of having to hold them in place your self.
A long thin, braided leather leash is attached to your collar and I lead you to the side of the room. I walk to the rack. When I come back you freeze, seeing the long bullwhip in my hand. I pick up the leash and stand in the middle of the room.
"Now walk, Alexus. And make sure you keep the leash in a straight line between you and me." The whip cracks right behind you, making you jump up in fear. You start to walk in circles. I let you do two or three circles.
"That looks like nothing. Not even close to female. Straighten up, tighten your butt and pull your shoulders back." It's not easy holding your head down and pulling your shoulders back at the same time. Not to mention having to squeeze your bottom cheeks together.
"Straighten up, Alexus ... Move to the rhyth of the music, Alexus ... Do not walk but stride, Alexus ... Make sure your muscles are relaxed, Alexus ... It should look natural, Alexus." There is constant criticism. The whip cracks frequently as you walk, and walk and walk. You're supposed to make even steps and keep a constant pace, stride sexy and self-confident at the same time but without showing an attitude, make your bottom twist and turn, push your breasts forward. It goes on for ages it seems. Circle after circle, after circle. You never imagined just walking could be that difficult and fatiguing, and whatever you try, there is always something wrong. When it finally stops you are exhausted. Every muscle in your body hurts and you are sweating all over. With a little satisfied grin I finally unlock the leash and smack your bottom.
"Go wash up. Time for lunch." I watch you as you walk to the door, head down, hands on your back, trying to do your best to move in the way you have just been taught.



The light lunch - soft white boiled fish and even a glass of wine - is refreshing and offers a chance to recuperate. It all convinces you there must be servants in the house. Not only should someone have been there to make lunch and set the table. You also notice your bed has been made and the bathroom has been cleaned. Still, there is no sign of anybody else in the house. After lunch you are taken back to the training ring and you have to bite your lip not to scream as the leash is clipped back on again and things start where we left off before lunch. Well, not exactly where we left off. This time you are presented with a pair of stiletto heels to wear, which makes things considerably more difficult, not just the shoes as such, but the coblestones make it almost impossible to show any elegance. The extreme high heels are difficult to walk in and the first three or four circles you feel like a c***d on skates for the first time. It is difficult to keep your balance, let alone try and display anything like femininity and grace. There is another difference. The bullwhip has been traded for a long, stiff dressage whip that touches the back of your legs every time you need encouragement or correction. It is nothing like whipping, just tipping - gently touching your skin but somehow the impact is enormous. The effect of constantly being corrected and pushed and perfected is something you can not yet cope with.

The almost clinical approach, efficient, straight, strict and never ever a raised voice, just constant reminders is something new to you. Soon you start to wish you were thoroughly whipped, spanked or whatever as a punishment instead of these subtle, almost irritating corrections, not to mention the fact that there seems to be no sexual aspect to this whatsoever. You're not given very much room to analyze the situation. The need to concentrate on what you are doing is just too big and consumes your entire span of attention. You are constantly kept on your toes in more ways than one. The slight pulls on the leash whenever it slacks and the touches of the long whip seem to make you more off balance and uncertain mentally then anything else you have ever expected. You are really trying your best - if nothing else just to try and avoid these subtle hints.



I watch you carefully during this training process, analyzing your responses, carefully bringing you close to edge of protest and resistance over and over again, making sure you do not cross this thin line. I can see your concentration, your struggle and your helplesness as you try hard to walk on the high heels over the uneven stones and still maintain grace and elegance. By the end of the afternoon you are able to move quite well, despite the fact that you are totally exhausted and your muscles are strained and tested in ways they have never been before. Your feet and calves are killing you and so are your shoulders. Having to pull them back and pressing your elbows together in a constant effort to push your breasts out is difficult and something you are not used to. You are sweating intensely now, your hair being al wet like you have recently taken a shower. For once you are happy having to keep your head down, since it avoids the sweat dripping into your eyes.
When you are finally sent off to wash again a big sigh of relief escapes from your lips. Dinner is eaten in silence again but the fish and the chilled, dry white wine make up for quite a lot.
Once dinner is finished, for a short moment you fear there will be a third training session, but much to your relief there seem to be no plans for that. Instead I relocate to a comfortable chair, order you to bring us some coffee - which is already made. I throw a large cushion on the floor in front of me. You don't need instructions. Almost automatically you kneel down.



She: Dinner was wonderful and allows me to rest both my mind and weary body. I am amazed at my own reactions to you. I found myself wanting to obey, to please no matter what. As you led me around the ring criticizing my every move, I found myself focusing even harder. All else was forgotten. My anger and fear at being here with you is secondary. The submissive nature in me seems to flourish under your attentions. As we sat in silence at the large table, I watched you through lowered eyes. Who are you, and what is this place? Are you paid to train me? What interest do you have in this? Where are the servants? Are there more slaves here? You eat your dinner, only casually glancing at me. I can't help but wonder if you find me attractive, sitting here at your table in nothing but chains. I find myself blushing as I recall the days events. Seeing myself prance around naked, trying to stay a step ahead of the whip. I am overwhelmed with the humiliation of it. You watched me carefully, just as carefully as you inspected every inch of my body.



I remember the stages of emotions I went through in that ring. I was angry at first, wanting to strike out at you. I resented being treated like livestock. I am a lady after all. Later, as my body began to respond to the training, I felt a strange sense of pride. As I followed your instructions, I imagined how I must look. How erotic and sexual I would appear. Still later yet, when my muscles began to ache, exhaustion set in. I only wanted your approval. A sign that you were pleased. You were relentless with the whip, with your demands. When I finally achieved some sense of your high expectations, I was rewarded with a slight smile, and a "very nice Alexus..."
I am surprised at my hunger. I eat with passion, and the food is much to my liking. The wine is one of my favorites and I am thankful for its soothing properties. I find myself beginning to relax finally. The metal cuffs on my wrists clink on the table as I finish my meal, so I put them in my lap. I wait with my eyes lowered, for you to signal the end of dinner.
You tell me to get coffee and I move to the table where it is already prepared. I pour you a cup and bring it to you, moving very slowly, cat-like across the room. You accept the cup and ask if I am having any. I shake my head no. Instinctively, I kneel on the cushion by your feet. Again I am surprised at my emotions. I'm feeling at home here, on my knees. I want your guidance, your control. I am afraid that you will hurt me, but just as afraid that you will not. I was worried during the day today that I could take no more and yet I find myself craving more now.
I speak quietly, not looking up, "Sir, may I request another glass of wine please?" I wait with cuffed wrists crossed on my thighs. I study the gleam of the silver in the firelight and await your response.



He: I look deep into your eyes. "You are not supposed to speak, remember?"
Oops, you blush. I let it sink in for minute. The silence is deafening.
" I'll let you off with a warning this time. You've done well today, and since all this must be extremely confusing to you, I'll even allow you to ask questions." I pour you another glass of wine and light a cigarette. Let my hand glide through your thick red hair, gently pulling your head backward a little to let you look at me.
"So, fire away..." I say and push your head back in position.



She: I get comfortable kneeling on the cushion and take the glass of wine. I sit quietly for a while savoring the wine and opening my mind, allowing the questions to come.
"I wish to know who you are, more about you. What is this place and are there others here like me? Can you tell me why I was brought here? What is going to happen to me? What if I cannot do as you require, what if I cannot take all that you give? When will I be released? Will David come to see me?" I blush a little at the flood of questions that pour from me.
"I'm sorry Sir, that was a lot of questions, but my mind is racing. I find myself strangely acclimated to this life you show me, but I am afraid as well. Of course you will only answer the questions you wish to answer, but I have so many."



I sip my wine again, wanting to look up at you, to see your eyes. You are sitting quietly, smoking your cigarette. It is incredibly quiet as I kneel waiting for you to speak. You move slowly, turning to put your cigarette out in the ashtray next to your chair. You reach down and stroke my cheek, your hand stopping to touch the silver collar around my neck. I lean my head back, feeling the strength of your hand on my neck. I ache to feel more of you. Your hand trails down my neck and between my breasts. I take a deep breath, trying to remain still. You pull your hand away and smile at my reactions. I see you lean back in your chair and then you begin to speak, to answer some of my questions.



He: "Alright, you are in my house, at least in one of them. As you have seen this mansion has been fully converted a training facility. Originally that was done for my own subs but as the word got more or less around it is occasionally used for two reasons, either people rent it for vacations for example, or for specific training purposes and very occasionally I will use it myself to train subs on the request of friends. These last occasions are very rare, since I am not in the business of training. It would have to be a very special request and a very special purpose. It would also have to be a very special sub. I'll get to your specific situation in a minute." I take a while to look at you. Let the words sink in. And enjoy the sight of you sitting here in front of me. The atmosphere is improving and so is your behavior and comfort with the situation, but still everything is very fragile. This is only temporary, I know and it may change any minute. It will. It has to. I can see this brings up more questions then answers and I can help but smile.



"Just enjoy the wine and listen." I continue. "In fact you can pour me a glass as well, while I explain a little more. The answer to your question about others is yes and no. There are two kinds of servants here. One of them you have already met. He brought you here. He works as a chauffeur, butler and generally manages the household and estate when I am not around. He will also act as a host when other people rent the place and will take care of administration. He lives here and so does his wife, who does the cooking and shopping. Both are very capable of performing all sorts of power exchange related tasks as well, but they will only do so when told to be me. They live in a cottage a bit further down the road and you will hardly ever see them. Next to them, there is a gardener, who maintains the estate and the gardens, does the foresting and a lot of technical and repair and maintenance work. He also lives in his own cottage on the estate. Next to this there are two very well trained subs. They perform all sorts of household tasks and do other jobs. They belong to me personally and usually live here. The paid staff may use them if they please within very strict guidelines. Staff as well as subs are extremely discreet."



I wait a while again, cup your chin and and look deep into your eyes your eyes, trying to see inside you. Especially the description of the two subs seems to hit you.
"Although you will probably get to see very little of them, you are to obey all orders that might be given to you by the staff. They have instructions to stay out of sight and perform their normal duties as invisible as possible, but they have also instructions to make sure you stay here and do not attempt to escape. Not that you stand a very good chance of doing so."



"And now to your position. Come here." I pull you against me. I want to feel you. Comfort you and feel your physical responses at the same time. You don’t hold back. That’s good. Crawl up against my legs, resting your head against my knees.
"David has asked me to do two things with you. One is to try and establish where your limits are. Since they may be further then he might be able to explore he considers it a good idea to let this be done by someone you do not know in an environment that is sufficiently equipped to do so. The other things is try and find out to what extent you can be trained. Ergo, you do not have to be afraid to disappoint me, since this is more or less a fact-finding mission. I will however test you to your absolute limits and probably far beyond what you yourself consider possible. I am not going to disclose what exactly is going to happen, you will soon enough have your hands full trying to keep up with what is actually happening and there is no need for you to know what else might be in store. Apart from that, much of that depends on the way you will respond and what I am going to discover and bring out."

I can see a combination of fright and excitement in your eyes. I pull your head further on my lap. You are breathing heavily now. This hits you harder then you are willing to admit. Your body is slightly trembling. I can feel you try to control your nervousness, not wanting to show it. Not wanting to be vulnerable.



To be continued……
.
Geri
www.bdsmfinder.com
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Categories: BDSMFetishHardcore
Posted by wastedaway
4 years ago    Views: 319
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4 years ago
dear wasted away.I love your imagination? if true you are so lucky.i can feel the tension in the back of your thighs as you sway and throb to his hot and hard throbbing member if not please print book sources.