The Compound (6 page)

“Yes, Master John,” Sam replied.

After Master John left the dungeon, Alexis stayed quiet for a while, thinking about the whirlwind of events since she’d arrived at The Compound earlier that morning. Could she have fucked up any worse? She was lucky Master John was patient, she decided. It was humiliating to be left here on the punishment platform with a staff slave to watch over her, but at least Master John was giving her another chance.

She would do what he said and watch the scenes going on around her. She would try, as he’d suggested, to learn something. They were similar to the scenes that were played out at the BDSM clubs, except that these were more intense—more real. Even the atmosphere of the dungeon itself was different—instead of the dark walls and dim lighting of the basement BDSM clubs she was used to, the space was filled with natural light from skylights overhead, the walls painted a peaceful pale blue. There were no groups of gawking, horny men using the scenes as fodder for later masturbation. These were serious-minded folk there to train and learn, not just to get their rocks off.

Shifting a little in an effort to get more comfortable, Alexis watched a naked young woman several yards away who stood ramrod straight, a book balanced on the top of
her head while her trainer, a wiry man of about forty with thick salt and pepper hair and the requisite uniform of all black, snapped a long, cracking bullwhip against her body. Somehow the girl managed to remain perfectly still, the book never shifting on her head, though Alexis could see from her wincing expression that the bullwhip was hitting the mark.

Several yards on the other side there was a guy so trussed up with rope only his erect cock and heavy balls were
visible. His arms and legs were fully extended, creating a human X, secured by still more rope to thick metal hooks in the ceiling and floor. A hood had been placed over his head, and a female trainer was touching the tip of a red shock prod to his exposed genitals. Each time it made contact, the man’s body jerked and a muffled cry was heard from beneath the leather hood.

Alexis watched an older woman on her knees in front
of a young male slave, his huge cock thrusting into her open mouth as a trainer stood behind her with a single tail, snapping it against her ass and back as he urged, “Focus!”

In spite of her sore bottom, Alexis felt her sex moistening and swelling as she took in the intense, erotic scenes all around her. She kept her hands firmly on her thighs, however. No way would she touch herself again without Master John’s express direction. The thought warmed her, somehow, and something that had been wound tight inside her eased, at least a little.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Sam asked from beside her.

“I guess that’s kind of obvious, huh?” she replied ruefully.

He smiled kindly. “Give it a little time. This is your first day, right?” As Alexis nodded, Sam continued, “Master John is tough, even by Compound standards. He gets results though. Wendy, she’s a fulltime staff slave now. When she came in for training, she was a willful slut, focused on her own pleasure with no concept of what service is.”

Shit,
Alexis thought.
That sounds uncomfortably like me!

“
A month with Master John set her to rights,” Sam continued, thankfully not privy to Alexis’s thoughts. “So much so that she quit her job on the outside and petitioned to live here fulltime as his personal slave. She had to prove her worthiness through a series of public tests, but she belongs to Master John now.”

“What does she do all day while he’s, uh, working?”

“She works in the kitchen. She was a chef before she moved here last year.”

“And she’s okay with his, you know, with what he does?”

Sam smiled and shrugged. “Sure she is. She belongs to him, not the other way around. They live in one of the cabins out on the back of the property that are reserved for couples who want their privacy. She’s going to take his brand soon. You ever been to a branding ceremony?”

Alexis shook her head, hugging herself at the thought of a fiery brand burning its way into her flesh. To distract herself from the image as much as anything else, she asked, “Are you owned?”

Sam shook his head. “Not in the way you mean. Not by an individual Mistress or Master. I’m a Compound slave. I belong to everyone here. Every Dominant on staff, that is. I service whoever needs or wants me. I
live
to serve.”

Alexis glanced sharply at him, thinking for a second he was being sarcastic, but his expression was suffused with such fervent happiness that she understood he meant it. Curious, she asked, “What does that mean exactly? I mean, I see what you do here, helping out with misbehaving trainees”
—she gave a self-deprecating laugh— “but how else does a Compound slave serve?”

“In whatever capacity I’m needed,” he replied.

Unable to resist asking, Alexis persisted, “Sexually, too?”

“Absolutely.
Whatever any Master or Mistress requires of me, I will do it without hesitation. It’s what I was born for.” His face had taken on a serene glow. His cock, she couldn’t help noticing, was now tenting the tight thong.

“Mistresses
and
Masters?” she queried, the unspoken question,
are you gay,
balanced between them.

He grinned, nodding. “I’m one of the lucky ones. I go both ways. I love women, but men turn me on just as much. If a Master wants me to suck his cock, I’ll drop to my knees and give him everything I’ve got. If he wants to fuck me up the ass, I’ll assume position
8 and thank him when he’s done.”

“What’s position
8?”

“It’s the anal penetration position. There are two of them actually.
Position 8a is when you remain standing. You bend over, grab your ankles and stick out your ass. More common is position 8b, which is kneeling, forehead touching the ground. Keeping that position, you would then reach back and spread your ass cheeks.”

Alexis absorbed this a moment. “How many positions are there?”

“Ten basic positions, and then variations within each position. You’ll learn them in the next few days. Make sure you do, because I know for a fact Master John is a real stickler when it comes to protocol. He’s old school and totally into the rituals of BDSM training.”

Sam said something else, but Alexis didn’t hear him, because at that moment Master Paul entered the dungeon, leading a tall woman with cascades of curling blond hair falling down a long, slender back.
A spasm of longing moved through Alexis as Master Paul held out his hand, helping the woman onto a concrete brick.

In profile to Alexis, with one foot in front of the other for balance, the woman stood tall and proud on the small block. In a graceful movement, she raised her arms over her head, grasping each wrist with the opposite hand. Even with her perched on the block, Master Paul was still taller than the girl, and he reached for her hair, twining it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck and draping the makeshift ponytail over her shoulder.

The gesture reminded Alexis of Arthur’s thoughtfulness and she missed him suddenly. He would, she knew, miss her too. They’d been favorite scene partners at the club. What would he do without her now? She smiled inwardly, aware such a capable and caring Dom would easily find other partners. But his giving her this gift of a chance to really discover herself—that went beyond play partners. It was action of a true friend, a friend she would never forget, no matter where this training took her.

Master Paul moved behind the lovely young woman, selecting a heavy, thickly-tressed flogger from the wall,
Alexis’s favorite kind of whip. He started lightly, brushing the woman’s back and ass with a sensual swish of leather. She remained still as a statue, a serene smile on her lovely face.

Master Paul struck her harder, putting his whole arm into the movement. Even from several yards away, Alexis could hear the compelling, erotic sound of leather against skin, and she wished it was she balanced with such grace and ease on the block. Would she ever attain that level of training and acceptance?

“Who is that with Master Paul?” Alexis finally managed to ask Sam, though she couldn’t take her eyes from the flogging scene. Master Paul moved with the strength and grace of a dancer, whirling the flogger with expertise, his eyes fixed on the beautiful woman as he whipped her.

“That’s Tiffany. This is her last week. I heard she’s been placed with a very wealthy Master from Texas.”

“Wow,” Alexis said. “She’s amazing.”

Sam nodded. “She is that.” And then, as if he could read her mind, Sam added, “She started somewhere too, don’t forget. She didn’t just waltz in here and jump onto that brick all perfectly trained. You’ll get there. Give yourself time. And have faith.
Faith in your trainer and faith in yourself.”

Alexis nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” she said softly. 

A second man in black, whom Alexis recognized as having sat next to Master John at lunch, approached Tiffany from the front. He, too, held a heavy flogger in his hand. He and Master Paul nodded toward each other, and the second man began to flog Tiffany on the front of her body. The leather tresses snaked over her breasts, her flat belly, her smooth mons and her thighs, while Master Paul continued to flog her from behind. Tiffany’s skin was reddening, and Alexis thought she could make out the glimmer of sweat along her sides and on her forehead, but still the woman balanced on the concrete block as if she herself were carved from stone.

While Alexis watched, the woman’s head began to fall back, her chin lifting until her face was parallel with the high dungeon ceiling. With her
lips parted, her eyes closing, her chest slowly rising and falling, it looked as if she were in a deep sleep as the men continued to flog her.

“She’s flying,” whispered Sam rapturously.

“Oh,” Alexis murmured, mesmerized. The concept of moving past erotic pain into such unfettered, liberated euphoria was certainly familiar to Alexis as a player in the BDSM scene, but she’d never even come close to experiencing it for herself. Nor, she realized now as she watched, had she ever witnessed it, not this degree of intensity and grace.

“Oh,” she said again, every part of her aching with longing for the experience she was witnessing. Was Sam right? Could she ever get to such a state of pure grace?

By some silent agreement the two men dropped their floggers, each moving close to Tiffany, who leaned back against Master Paul, her arms folding inward against her chest. Bending down, he scooped the naked woman into his arms and carried her toward a low couch not far from where Alexis perched on the punishment platform.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Master Paul chose that moment to look up, his gaze falling directly on Alexis. His mouth lifted in the hint of a smile and he cocked his head slightly, as if to say,
What are you doing up there on the punishment platform, you naughty girl?

Alexis felt herself flushing and she looked down, wishing she could somehow disappear. Her eyes still on her thighs, she asked Sam quietly, “Does Master Paul have a fulltime slave?”

Sam replied teasingly, “Why, are you in the market for the position?”

Alexis’s
flush deepened. “What? No! I’m here to learn. It’s just—he’s so…”

Sam laughed kindly. “I’m teasing you. To answer your question, no, he doesn’t have a personal slave. Not yet, anyway.”

Sam suddenly stood at attention, his arms stiff at his sides, his chin lifting. Alexis followed his gaze. Master John had returned and was striding toward them. Alexis took a deep breath and straightened her back, lowering her gaze submissively as her trainer approached.

Alexis forced the lingering image of Master Paul from her mind. She was not there to be distracted by some guy, no matter how sexy or good looking he might be. She was there to explore her submissive potential. She was there to learn from the trainer she’d been assigned to. And that, she promised herself resolutely, was exactly what she would do.

Chapter 4

The dungeon had begun to clear. Even Master Paul and his lovely slave girl had gone and within a minute or so the place was empty. “Sam, I know it’s free time now, but can you stay with us for a while longer?” Master John said.

“Of course, Sir.
It would be my privilege,” Sam replied.

Master John helped Alexis from the punishment platform. Her legs had stiffened from so much time in the same kneeling position, and her right thigh cramped painfully as she stood.

“You’ll get used to staying in positions for longer and longer periods of time,” Master John said, noting her discomfort. “We have daily stretch and toning classes, along with the positions work. For now, just do a bit of stretching on your own. Then we’re going to engage in an exercise with Sam’s help.”

After Alexis stretched her leg muscles and shook out the kinks, Master John led her to one of the many yoga pads that were scattered at intervals throughout the dungeon space, Sam following behind.

Pointing, Master John said to Alexis, “Kneel upright, knees forward, shoulders back, hands clasped behind your back.”

She did as she was told, wondering what he had planned. He had Sam stand in front of her. “Remove your thong, Sam.”