The Compound (5 page)

A sudden, sharp slap to her face made her gasp in surprise and shock. “You will stand absolutely still when you are inspected.”

“But it tickled—“

He raised his hand to silence her. “Absolutely still,” he repeated. “No matter what.”

Alexis pressed her lips together, her cheek stinging from the slap. Master John moved his hand again down her sides, his fingers fluttering over her skin like feathers. Somehow this time she managed to stay still. His hands moved over her stomach and down between her legs. He tapped sharply at her inner thigh. “Wider.”

She obeyed, spreading her legs. He crouched in front of her, his face close to her crotch. She could feel the heat flaming in her face as he prodded and poked her bare pussy, his breath warm against her skin. His fingers moved past her cunt to her asshole, rimming the puckered entrance and then pushing inside. Though no virgin to anal play, Alexis was tense during this exam, which felt so clinical and cold, and she stiffened.

“You resist me.” It was a statement and she couldn’t really deny it. “That will change. You will hold nothing back from me.
Nothing. I will lay you bare in every possible sense of the word. I will own you, mind, body and soul, before this month is out.”

Alexis thought about this. How would she be able to give of herself to this cold, demanding man? What if she couldn’t do it?

Finally Master John released her and stood. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a red nylon collar with an O ring at the center. “Someday you may be collared by a man who finds you worthy to be his slave. But that day is in the future. This is a training collar, used primarily for my convenience and to remind you of your place. You will remove it to shower, and at no other time while you serve me. Lift your hair.”

Alexis untwined her fingers and lifted the hair from the back of her neck, dipping her head forward as Master John buckled the stiff collar around her neck. Once it was secured, he reached for the leash and clipped it onto her collar.

“Come,” he said, pulling her from the room. She stumbled at first and had to walk quickly to keep up with his long stride. They were moving again down the hall toward the bathroom. Alexis was half expecting to see Marta inside, kneeling placidly on the mat beside the bathtub, but when they entered, the large room was empty.

Master John dropped the leash and moved toward the sinks. He washed his hands vigorously and then dried them on a hand towel before turning to her.

“Do you need to use the facilities before we go to lunch?”

Lunch!
Yay!

“Yes, Sir.”
She glanced uncertainly at the row of toilets.

“Go on,” he said. “You have permission. Remember, you are never, ever to use the toilet without my express permission. That is
my
body. You may, however, ask when you need to go, and I will decide whether to let you or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master John.”
Is this really happening? Did I really sign up for this? Have faith in the process
, she reminded herself.
Trust that this man knows what the hell he’s doing.

She hesitated a moment, wondering if he was just going to stand there, watching her with those unblinking owl eyes while she peed. Apparently he was going to do just that. Biting back a sigh, Alexis moved toward the first toilet and sat, looking away as she willed her body to relax enough to pee. Finally she managed, feeling relief as her full bladder emptied. She wiped herself and flushed, and moved to the bank of sinks to wash up. She glanced at herself in the mirror, surprised but pleased to see her makeup and mascara were still intact after the spanking and her crying. That Marta was something, all right.

Master John led her out of the building and back toward the main house, though this time they entered through a back door. She felt silly being led along on a leash, though she figured she’d get used to it soon enough. He led her into a large dining room. There were easily a dozen people at the table, and lunch appeared to be in full swing. Everyone turned to look at her as they entered the room, but after a moment they resumed their eating and conversation.

She realized there were other naked and nearly naked people at the table, though they weren’t on the chairs. Rather, they were kneeling or sitting cross-legged on cushions set just beside each chair at the long table. She saw Marta kneeling beside Mistress Miriam, gazing adoringly at her as she spooned something into the slave’s mouth. Alexis saw Josh a few seats down being fed by a man in his forties with salt and pepper hair.

Master John led her to an empty seat on the far side of the table and pointed to the cushion beside it. Alexis settled herself there, watching hungrily as Master John heaped what looked like linguini onto his plate, along with a fat piece of grilled salmon and some green peas. Ignoring her, he tucked into the food, taking several bites before pouring himself what looked like iced tea from a silver pitcher.

Alexis’s
stomach rumbled audibly and she swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth.
What about me, you bastard?
she thought, aware she wasn’t being very submissive or patient, but too hungry to care.

Then her eye caught the man sitting just across from Master John.
Master Paul.
“Oh,” she said softly, before realizing she’d spoken aloud. Master John was holding out a fork twirled with pasta and she leaned up, opening her mouth like a baby bird. It was delicious, covered in melted butter and tangy parmesan cheese.

When Master John was occupied again with his plate, Alexis stole another look at
Master Paul, his coppery hair dry now, his face handsome in profile as he said something to the person sitting to his right. Then Master Paul straightened. He gazed directly at Alexis, those unusual tawny eyes looking directly into her soul.

“Alexis,” snapped Master John.
“Eyes on me.” He held out a forkful of salmon. Alexis chewed, not tasting it. When she could look again, Master Paul had turned away. He was leaning down toward the lucky person kneeling naked beside him, obscured from Alexis’s view by the linen tablecloth between them. Whoever the girl was, Alexis hated her instantly.

Mine
, she thought, though she knew it was ridiculous.
He should be mine.

Chapter 3

After lunch, Alexis was led from the dining room and up two flights of stairs. What she could see of the second floor as they passed consisted of bedrooms, which she guessed might be occupied by Mistress Miriam and the trainers who lived on the grounds.

The third floor had been converted into one huge room, and turned out to be a fully equipped BDSM dungeon with all the familiar restraining devices and torture implements Alexis recognized from the various clubs she’d frequented over the years, as well as additional items she had never seen before but which looked diabolically intriguing.

Several other trainers and their charges were already in the dungeon, and a few more pairs trickled in as Master John gave Alexis a brief tour of the facilities. She kept surreptitiously scanning the room for any sight of Master Paul, but he was nowhere to be seen. A sudden, hard jerk of her hair made Alexis cry out.

“You are not focused. That is a very negative trait, and one you have exhibited with alarming consistency in just the little time we’ve spent in one another’s company.” Master John’s voice was hard, his expression grim.

“I’m sorry, I—”

He cut her off. “Another negative trait in a slave is the habit of speaking when not asked a direct question. This may be my fault, as I haven’t yet specifically outlined the rules to you. So pay attention. You will only speak in answer to a direct question, unless you are in extreme distress. If that is the case, you may ask for permission to speak, and I will decide at that time whether or not to give that permission.”

What about a safeword?
Alexis wondered, but she knew enough not to stoke the fires of Master John’s wrath. “We need to nip your lack of focus and failure to follow basic rules in the bud. A solid paddling should get your attention in that regard.”

Taking Alexis by the shoulders, he propelled her toward a whipping post. “Sam, assist me,” he called as he pushed her along. Alexis saw he was addressing a man of medium height with massive shoulders and a barrel chest
who stood against the wall as erect as a military cadet. He was wearing what she now recognized as the staff slave uniform—a black thong that hugged his sizable package, and a thick black leather collar with a shiny padlock at the throat.

“Lift your arms,” Master John commanded, and Alexis obeyed, her heart smacking painfully in her chest. As her wrists were locked into cuffs high over her head against the post, she stole a glance over the large room, deeply embarrassed that she was to be punished so publically. But no one else seemed to be paying them the slightest attention, apparently occupied with their own lessons in bondage and discipline.

The wood of the whipping post was smooth and hard against her breasts and stomach. The sudden, brutal smash of what felt like a two-by-four plank of solid wood crashed against her already tender ass, ripping a primal grunt from Alexis’s mouth. Another blow landed as hard as the first, covering both ass cheeks in a burning explosion of pure, non-erotic pain. It seemed to go on and on, each blow pushing her hard against the whipping post as she whimpered and writhed in her cuffs.

“
Nooooo!” she screamed finally, unable to stop herself. “Nooo! Stop! Lemon, lemonlemonlemon!”

Lemon was her safeword at the club, not that Master John knew that, but the word kept tumbling from her lips, a staccato counterpoint to the steady smashing of the wood against her poor, flaming bottom.

Finally, finally the beating stopped. Alexis sagged hard against the cuffs, her body covered with sweat, every nerve ending screaming with pain. When the cuffs were released, she sagged down the post to her knees, crying quietly.

An insistent prodding with the toe of Master John’s hard boot against her thigh made her open her eyes. “Thank me,” he ordered curtly.

Not daring to disobey, Alexis dipped her head down, her tears splashing the man’s boot as she forced her lips to touch it in an approximation of a kiss. “Thank you, Sir,” she managed to croak.

He lifted her, gently this time, and placed his arm around her shoulders. “Can you walk?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her bottom was flaming, but as the panic had ebbed, she realized it had only been a paddling. She would probably have bruises, but was otherwise intact. They moved together toward a far corner of the dungeon.

Master John directed Alexis onto a wooden platform that was raised about a foot off the ground. “Position two,” he said, pushing on her shoulder.

Alexis tried to recall position two. She knew position one—standing at attention, hands behind her head. The only other position she’d been shown was the kneeling at-ease position. That had to be position two. She sank to her knees, her muscles straining a little as she held her sore, throbbing ass just above her heels. She spread her thighs wider to maintain her equilibrium and looked at Master John through her tears.

“Tell me why you were punished.” For the second time that day, he produced a tissue and wiped her tears.

She swallowed, trying to think of what it was he wanted her to say. “Because I’m not focused.”

He nodded. “What else?”

“Because I spoke without being asked a direct question.”

“That’s correct. I have to say, I’m rather surprised. Most trainees have at least some modicum of basic protocol when they enter the program.”

Alexis felt her face burning. “Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Go on.”

“I’m really sorry I keep fucking up. I’m not used to this—this level of intensity. You’re very rough with me. No disrespect, Sir, but if I was perfect already I wouldn’t need the training. Everything’s going so fast. I can’t seem to get my bearings. I guess I didn’t really understand what I was getting myself into.”

Master John lifted his eyebrows. “Getting
yourself into? Are you saying you’d like to get yourself out? That can certainly be arranged. This isn’t a prison. Your stay here is completely voluntary.”

“No!” Alexis burst out, surprising herself at the vehemence of her response. “No, please. I’m sorry. I want to stay. I need to be here.” She realized as she said this it was true. She had been searching her entire adult life for something just beyond her grasp. She’d been given an amazing opportunity to go deeper in her exploration than she ever could on her own.
Don’t blow it, Alexis. Not now.
“I know I have a long way to go, Master John. Please don’t give up on me.”

She bit her lip, unsure what his reaction would be. To her relief, he smiled. “I appreciate your honesty. I admit I’m used to working with subs with more basic training under their belts. Maybe we need to slow down just a little. You will stay there on the punishment platform for the rest of the afternoon session. You can watch and listen as the other trainers work with their subs. Pay attention. Maybe you’ll actually learn something.” He was still smiling.

Alexis nodded gratefully. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

Master John looked toward Sam, who was standing beside the platform, his arms folded over his massive chest, his expression neutral. “Keep an eye on her. Conversation is permitted. She is not to move from the platform, though she may change position if necessary.”