Hindsight
Cathy leaned back in her seat, resigned to her fate. In hindsight it had been childish and stupid; she should know better. But she’d done it anyway, and now she must suffer the consequences. If she had only stopped to think, listened, made the effort to understand, none of this would have been necessary. As she sat there, under the guard's watchful eye, she thought back to how it began. Was it really only a day ago?
It started on a Friday afternoon. Cecilia had called about the party, all their friends would be there, and Cathy looked forward to it. She had gone to her Master, told him about the party, how excited she was about it, and then waited expectantly. When he had replied with a simple, "No, your Master requires your presence elsewhere" with no other explanation, she was in shock. She had gone back to the living room to sit and think, growing angrier and angrier by the minute. If Master thinks so little of me, she thought, perhaps a weekend without me is what he needs.
That was the fateful decision. She rushed into the bedroom, threw some clothes in a bag, and headed for her car. A quickly scrawled note, "Gone for the weekend," was the only indication of her plans. She headed for the freeway, determined to go somewhere, anywhere, but far from her Master.
While driving aimlessly on the freeway she saw the sign, "Los Angeles 264 Miles.” Perfect, a weekend on the beach, and her Master would never find her. Her destination set, and her fate sealed, Cathy headed for the City of the Angels. Six hours later she was in Newport, deciding where to stay. A familiar hotel, a chance cancellation, her trusty credit card, and she had a place for the weekend. She went up to her room, unpacked her bag, laid back on the bed to rest after the long drive, and promptly fell asleep.
Waking at 2 a.m., she felt restless, too awake to go back to sleep, and besides, she had the entire weekend to herself. She did feel a bit apprehensive, worried about how her Master would react. He would have long since found her note. She shrugged, smiled, and decided to take a moonlight drive through the Beach Cities.
Cathy showered and put on a casual dress. She grabbed her purse and headed for the underground garage. Although the hour was late, she remembered the attendant at the entrance and thought it would be safe. Going down the elevator, she again thought about her Master, and the confrontation sure to happen when she got back. She knew he was a powerful, influential man with ties to many organizations; in fact it was part of his attraction. She wasn't too sure just how he would react to her unplanned excursion. After all, she had pledged herself to him, his obedient and unquestioning submissive woman, with no limits on what he might demand from her. When she got back he would be more appreciative of her wishes, rather than dismissing them out of hand. Cathy smiled, thinking of all the clichés about absence makes the heart grow fonder and you never miss it till you no longer have it.
Exiting the elevator, she entered the garage and headed for her car. Always careful, she checked for strangers loitering nearby or suspicious cars. The garage was nearly full since it was a weekend, but no one was there at the moment. She could see the outline of the attendant at the entrance. Satisfied, she headed for her car.
At the car door, she started to open her purse to get the keys when a large, strong arm circled around her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. She started to scream, to yell for help, but the other arm came up, forcing a gag into her mouth. She started to struggle, readying a kick, when the man pulled her back, off balance. Just then a van pulled up, the door opened, and a second large, heavyset man jumped out, grabbing her legs. They quickly bundled her into the van, slammed the door shut, and began driving away. She struggled, trying to twist out of their grip, but they were too strong. It had been so fast she had no time to react or call out to the attendant, and the side of the van blocked his view of what had happened. She felt the van go up the garage ramp and out into the street.
Inside the two men held her face down on the carpeted floor of the van. Quickly her arms were pulled behind her back, and she both heard and felt the familiar click of handcuffs on her wrists, followed by a larger version of the same on her ankles. One man bent over her to whisper in her ear, "your Master requires your presence."
A cold chill ran through Cathy on hearing those words. Instinctively she stopped struggling, allowing the men to continue without any resistance on her part. She now knew what was happening. The hushed rumors when she had visited with the other women at special parties came back to her. Bounty hunters…slave catchers. Her Master had reacted swiftly indeed.
How had they found her so quickly? Then she realized her mistake. The credit card pointed right to her hotel. Her Master had the means to find her, to have her brought back to him, and he had used them. She had underestimated his reaction to her disobedience. The men who had kidnapped her must have been waiting nearby for hours, on the off chance she would come out alone.
While one man held her down, the other quickly and efficiently searched her, even removing her shoes and jewelry. She pulled slightly on the handcuffs, testing them. From prior experience she knew she would not be slipping out of them. They were on her wrists snugly but not too tight, with just enough space to allow for circulation. She was not going to be able to escape their hold. Cathy and her Master had played with handcuffs many times. She had never been able to free herself.
After the search was finished, the men pulled a waist chain attached to the handcuffs around her body, locking the ends together in front of her. Her wrists were now held close against the small of her back. With the leg chains, really nothing more than oversize handcuffs, fastened securely on her ankles she could barely move. Bound hand and foot she was easily controlled by her captors. Satisfied she could offer no resistance, one of the kidnappers helped her to a kneeling position.
One of the guards removed the gag. “Keep quiet and we’ll leave it off. Start making noise and we shut you up.” She got the message.
Forced to turn to the back of the van, she saw a seat facing the rear door. One of the men picked her up and placed her in it. Quickly he fastened the seat belt and shoulder straps, immobilizing her, and finishing by attaching the linking chain of her leg irons to a ring on the van floor. Cathy pulled against her restraints but in a few seconds it was obvious her abductors had come well prepared. There was no hope that she could reach the buckles of the straps to free herself. These men were professionals; they wouldn’t make mistakes like allowing her to escape so easily.
While she sat in the back facing the rear of the van both of the men watched her every move. Cathy began to realize just how serious a mistake she had made. She had disobeyed, even run away. Now she had learned her Master would not tolerate such behavior. Sitting there, bound and helpless, heading to an unknown destination, to face certain punishment from the man who owned her, she felt panic slowly rising within her.
Could she bribe the guards? She turned to the one beside her, began explaining how it wasn't her fault, a misunderstanding, couldn't they free her and let her return to her Master? "Quiet, or you get a gag for the rest of the trip," was all the closer man said. The other man, behind her, never said a word.
At that point she came to accept that matters were now beyond her control. She settled back in the seat, made herself as comfortable as possible within the restraints, and awaited her fate. Wherever they were taking her, it was outside the city. Already she could hear the traffic noise drop off. The back of the van had no windows, so she had no idea where they were going. She had lost track of direction while they drove through the city streets. She was sure they were now on a freeway since the van was at speed and not stopping for lights, but she had no idea which road or in what direction. The front driver’s section was partitioned off so she couldn’t see out the windshield, and there were no windows in the back. Very thorough on their part; no one could see her and no one would hear her over the traffic noise if she tried to scream for help.
Arrival
They drove for hours with not a word spoken by anyone. She was sure there were at least three men in the van, the driver plus the two watching her. None of them said a word to each other; communications were solely by looks and gestures. By all appearances they were a well-practiced team. They had certainly done everything right when they abducted her. After what seemed to be several hours the van slowed before pulling off the freeway up an off ramp. She heard the man sitting directly behind her get out. She started to look over her shoulder, but the man to her side told her to keep facing toward the rear door. There were faint sounds, as if a gate were being opened, then the van pulled forward a short distance. Again there was the sound of a gate closing, followed by the slam of the van door when the second man returned. The van began moving again, still on a paved road but slower now.
Cathy had thought the trip was nearly over, but they kept going, perhaps another hour or more. All this time she had not heard any passing traffic. Wherever they were heading it was isolated. She was sure the stop had been to pass through a gate, making it a safe assumption they were on some kind of private road. While the van door was open the outside air felt warm, so they were probably not in the mountains. She wasn’t sure of the time but it was possible they had driven all the way to the desert. That would explain the temperature, the straight roads, and the lack of traffic.
Again they came to a stop. The man behind her got out and closed the door. Cathy tried once more to turn and see where she was, but the darkness hid everything. The guard next to her said nothing this time as she tried to look. She could hear voices talking outside the van, even heard her name once, but could not understand what was said. All this time she had been trying to move around but the restraints held her close, so the remaining guard did nothing although his eyes never left her. She had thought about shouting for help, but since her guard seemed unconcerned she would cry out she concluded it would be pointless.
The conversation outside stopped just as she heard the latch on the rear door of the van. It opened, and standing there in the light from the back van door was her Master. She started to speak, but he cut her off with one sentence, "I require your presence, for an accounting.” The words struck Cathy like a blow. She had disobeyed her Master, run away, now she had been brought to him to explain her actions. In her heart she knew she belonged to him, and she must now answer to him for what she had done.
"Release her," came his short, clipped command. The guard next to her released the seat belt and shoulder straps holding her in the chair. The man stopped, looked over to her Master, waited for a nod, and only then took out a small key and unlocked the cuffs around her ankles. Leaning over her, he opened the lock holding the waist chains close to her body. Finally, the guard pushed her forward, then reached behind her and unlocked the steel handcuffs encircling her wrists.
She was free of her bonds, but as she gazed up to her Master, she saw the look in his eyes, felt his power over her. She sat very still, hands folded in her lap, head down, waiting for his command. "Out of the van, stand in front of me," he ordered, pointing to a spot near him. She immediately moved to obey, hoping she could somehow still please him, to placate his visible anger at her disobedience.
She climbed out of the van and stood up, stumbling a bit as her sore body protested at the sudden activity after being confined for the trip. Then she recovered her balance and stood at the spot where her Master had ordered her. She turned to face him, mindful of her posture, keeping her back straight, her hands at her side, legs slightly apart, and her head down. She dared not speak, for she had not been granted permission to do so. He had taught her to stand that way.
Her Master gestured to the guard who had sat beside her all during the trip to this lonely, isolated location. He handed an envelope to the bounty hunter. "Good work, fast and efficient. As always your organization provides exemplary service."
"Thank you sir, your generous retainer guarantees we are available to you at any time," and then the men got in the van and drove off. Cathy was surprised at the word retainer. It seemed her Master had anticipated her actions even before she had decided to run off. Somehow he had known there would come a time she would disobey and leave him without permission, and had planned for the moment.
When the van left she saw for the first time she was standing in the driveway in front of a small building, nestled against the side of a mountain, seemingly built right into the hillside. Other than the building and the road, all she could see was barren desert and a ring of high mountains. The predawn light revealed little of the building: a single door in the front, what appeared to be a garage door on one side, and nothing else, not even a window. Her Master turned back to her. Cathy looked at his eyes for a moment before quickly lowering her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
"Remove your clothes, now!” As quickly as she could, off came her dress and underwear, in a neat pile beside her. Finished, she stood before him as before, arms at her side, legs slightly apart, and her head still down, open and vulnerable to her Master. She was grateful he had waited till the van left with the men inside. Still, she felt uncomfortable being outside in the nude.
She stood there several minutes, illuminated in the dawn, waiting to be told what would be required of her. Her Master made no move. He looked at her, saying nothing, slowly walking around her. She stood very straight, knowing she was being judged. He stopped, close in front of her, and then reached behind his back to produce a pair of plain handcuffs. He stood there, looking at her, cuffs in one hand, as if waiting for something.
At first she was confused. What did he want of her? Then she knew precisely what he was waiting for. She held out her hands, wrists slightly apart, waiting to be bound, submitting herself to her Master's authority. He paused a moment, looking closely at her, then locked her wrists together. He held the connecting chain in his hand, controlling her. He turned, and began leading her toward the building door.
She had no choice but to follow as he pulled her behind him. He stopped at the door, a buzzer sounded and then he pushed open the door before pulling her in behind him. Inside was a counter, with a uniformed man sitting behind it, and a heavy steel door set into the wall behind him. "Listen carefully, Cathy," her Master ordered.
"Your behavior has not been pleasing to your Master. Not only did you disobey, but also you left without permission; you ran away from me. There is no excuse for this. Perhaps I have been lax in my discipline, in overseeing your training. In the past I’ve been lenient, understanding of your needs, but no more. Now you will learn what your Master demands from you."
"This is a special training school, for those women who have not responded properly to an indulgent Master. Rules here are strict, no exceptions allowed, no excuses accepted. You will be told what to do, and you will stay here until you have learned how to behave in an acceptable manner. I’m not giving you a choice, so pay attention to what I’m telling you. As your Master I decide what is best for you. At this moment I believe the best place for you is this school, regardless of where you want to go or what you want to do. You may not like it; in fact I can guarantee you will not enjoy this experience. You will stay here anyway.
"And you will remain here for as long as necessary. This is a secure facility. It is built underground, and you are at its only entrance. It is over a hundred miles from the nearest highway, across empty desert. No one has ever left here until her Master has approved her release.”
A shiver ran through Cathy's body on hearing those words delivered in the harsh tones underlying her Master's irritation at what she had done. Not pleasing to your Master, words she had hoped never to hear. She had failed in what she most desired to give to him. Remain here was an ominous phrase too. The full impact of what she had done suddenly hit her. She had broken her pledge of submission, to her one true Master, without asking for her release. She had asked for no limits, given herself freely and totally to him, and now she knew she must face any punishment he chose for her, for she could not live without him.
"Turn and face the wall. Hands behind your head, arms wide. Spread your legs," he ordered, pushing her ankles apart with his foot. Awkwardly she lifted her hands, still bound by the handcuffs, over her head. "Good, remain in that position, do not move," he commanded as he went to the counter where the attendant handed him a heavy box.
Her Master reached in and took out an oval metal ring, slightly larger than her neck, about an inch wide, hinged on one side, a lock on the other. She recognized it immediately. It was her collar, the one she wore for special occasions, as a token of her Master's ownership. He opened it, slid it around her neck and closed it, the "click" of the lock loud in the small anteroom. "This time, it doesn't come off at the end of the day. This time, it doesn't come off, period.” She felt the weight of the steel press against her throat. She had worn it many times before, but only for short periods of a few hours, once overnight, but never more than a day. It wasn’t uncomfortable but she wasn’t used to the weight and the closeness against her throat.
Then he turned back to the box and pulled out a larger object. At first she wasn't able to see it, but as he turned, she saw it from the corner of her eye, and a sense of dread went through her. Too well she knew the grip of the wide steel band around her waist, the heavy, close-fitting metal shield between her legs, the bar up to the waistband in the back. It was a chastity belt, her custom-fitted chastity belt. How well she remembered the weekend he had left it on her, her frustration as he had teased and excited her, with her pulling at it, trying to slip it off, to somehow get a finger under the shield. And she remembered her failure, her inability to touch herself, the belt blocking her every attempt. Like the collar she had not worn the belt very often or for very long at a time, only when her Master wanted to tease and play with her.
"Do not move," he ordered once again, and she was held motionless by his words. Standing behind her he unlocked and pulled open the waistband, placing it around her waist, above her hips. Stepping to her side he reached down between her legs and pulled up the shield, locking it in front to the waistband. Her Master stepped back, standing still with a slight smile parting his lips. "This time, it will not come off so quickly. Every minute of the day you will feel your Master's hold on you, in a most intimate way. Perhaps it will give you some incentive to learn.
"I will review your progress at certain intervals. If I am satisfied you are doing your best, meeting my expectations, perhaps I will open the front for brief periods. But if I find otherwise, then it stays on, and it stays locked shut. You will be required to wear the belt, and your collar, for as long as you stay here. It will be all you are allowed to wear. Now it’s time."
Taking her by one arm, her wrists still imprisoned by the handcuffs, he led her toward the rear door. The attendant stood and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Inside was an elevator with another guard waiting. Her Master handed Cathy to the waiting guard before stepping back. "Master?" she dared to ask, unsure of what was about to happen.
"No, I won't be with you. Learn, do your best, I will visit you as time permits and your progress warrants. Do as you are told, don’t cause trouble, and don’t bother asking to be released from here. Remember, the only way you will leave is if and when I allow it.” Those were her Master's parting words.
The guard took her arm, pulled her into the elevator and shut the door, cutting her off from the outside world. The elevator car began moving down, plunging her into a terrifying yet unknown fate. She did trust her Master, but she also knew he could be unpredictable when she defied him. She had never seen him so upset at her, but as always he was outwardly calm. He would not injure or maim her but she had little doubt whatever awaited her when the elevator stopped would not be pleasant.
A New Reality
The elevator car continued its journey downward, taking her to a new and very different world. She stood quietly, looking down at her hands, the handcuffs around her wrists holding them close together. She felt the guard's strong grip on her upper arm. She was conscious of how exposed and helpless she was, her nude body covered only by the chastity belt between her legs. Her Master's collar circled her neck, proclaiming her nature to all. She had no secrets from these men. Knowing she was submissive, they would expect her obedience; even take it as a matter of fact. There was a clear hierarchy of authority here, and she was at the lowest level.
After what seemed an eternity, the elevator car came to a stop. The inner door opened, revealing a heavy barred gate. Her escort unlocked the gate with a key attached to his belt. He slid it open to the side. Pressure from the guard’s grip on her arm forced her out of the elevator into the corridor. He halted her with a jerk on her arm, just outside the gate. She stopped and looked up to him, waiting for instructions. He shut the gate to the elevator and made sure it was locked before he led her forward, walking down the hallway toward another door at the end. They stopped in front of a heavy, solid metal door. He opened it with a key from his belt before leading her into the room, never letting go of his iron grip on her arm.
In the room was a small table, a steel-barred door to another hallway, and a large sign next to it:
SECURED AREA
Beyond this point, females are required to:
1) OBEY ALL ORDERS FROM WARDENS
2) REMOVE ALL CLOTHING AND JEWELRY
3) WEAR IDENTIFYING COLLAR
4) BE ESCORTED BY A WARDEN OUTSIDE A ROOM
5) WEAR A CONTROL BELT
6) WEAR RESTRAINTS WHILE BEING ESCORTED BETWEEN ROOMS
No exceptions are allowed for any reason
Cathy looked at the sign, understanding those posted rules applied to her. Silent till now, her guard, a "Warden" they were called, spoke to her. "Read these rules. Never forget them. We will know about any infraction, no matter how minor."
"Yes, sir," she replied, instinctively knowing she must behave in a respectful manner to the Wardens, hoping it was the proper form of address. The Warden did not reply; instead he towed her along with him to the far door, stopping in front of the close-set steel bars. In a moment yet another Warden appeared, on the other side of the door. Her guard unlocked the gate before handing her through, transferring her to the new Warden while he stepped back and closed the door behind her.
To this point she had passed through multiple locked barriers. Now she understood all too well what her master had meant when he said it was a secure facility. Her new Warden took hold of her handcuffs. "Come with me," he commanded, and led her down yet another corridor, passing several empty cells, until they reached one with a single inhabitant.
Inside was another woman, collared and belted as Cathy was, kneeling in the rear of the small cell, back straight, legs apart, and eyes down, hands on her thighs. Cathy's Warden pushed her against the bars at the front of the cell, "Don’t move," he ordered. He unlocked the cell door using a large key on a ring connected to his belt, pulled open the heavy steel door, and then shoved her inside. Noticing the woman on the floor had not moved, Cathy stood very still, not sure what was expected of her next. The Warden closed the cell door. Cathy heard the sound of the lock as it latched shut.
"Turn around,” he ordered, and Cathy quickly turned to face him. “This woman will explain how you are to behave while a guest here. It is in your best interests to listen to her carefully.” He turned and walked off.
Cathy was left standing there, behind the bars of the small cell, still wearing the handcuffs. She looked around, at the bare prison conditions. She was starting to feel trapped, closed in, as she grabbed the cell door and tried to pull it open. The locked door felt as solid as the walls around her.
"I know just how you feel, I did the same thing.” The voice behind her suddenly reminded Cathy she was not alone in her captivity. "Hi, my name is Paula, I've been here a while, so I can tell you what's going to happen. You aren't going to like it much. My educated guess is that you did something to really piss off your Master?"
"Hi, I'm Cathy, and yes, I sure did, something really stupid. I ran away.” Paula's calm, friendly tone brought her back from the edge of panic. Turning, she saw a woman of about her age, and all too obviously in the same situation since Paula was dressed in nothing more than a collar and chastity belt, the same as Cathy. She watched as Paula unfolded from her kneeling position and settled into a more comfortable pose, leaning against the rear wall while sitting.
Paula patted a spot on the floor next to her. "Make yourself comfortable, we aren't going anywhere for a while", she said with a smile. Cathy turned away from the cell door and sat down beside Paula, moving around slightly to find the best way to sit with the belt around her. "I know just how it is; it took me weeks to be able to sit down normally with these steel panties on." Paula laughed, watching Cathy squirm as she tried to find a comfortable way to sit. “For what it’s worth, a while back I was in exactly the same position you are now, so I think I can anticipate most of your questions.”
Paula continued, "Let me fill you in on what you need to know first. Welcome to the Center, that’s the name used for this place. Your Master has sent you to a training school, a nice sounding name for a prison, so that you will be taught how to properly serve and obey him. I know, you didn't agree to it, but you gave yourself to him, no limits, and now he is holding you to your promise. It’s the same story for all of us. In any case, the only way you can get out of here is if your Master comes and takes you out. No one knows where you are, no one is going to rescue you, and I can assure you that you are not going to escape. Any requests on our part to be allowed to depart are ignored. I suppose it’s totally illegal: false imprisonment, kidnapping, all of that stuff, but no one here seems to worry about it.
"The guards here in the Center, the Wardens, are a humorless bunch. You won't be able to influence them. They decide when you eat, sleep, where you go, and worst of all they watch you all the time. Don't try to be friendly or make small talk, they won't respond. One crucial thing: when they tell you to do something, whatever it is, don't hesitate, don't stop to think or ask questions; do it as fast as you can."
"What happens if I don't?" Cathy asked carefully. This was not sounding too good. True, she had given herself without restrictions to her Master, but not to be locked away in a prison cell deep underground. And certainly not to be handed over to strangers. A fantasy game for a day or so might be fun, but to be here for weeks, even months?
"Improper behavior is discouraged," Paula answered, in a lowered voice. "We are not allowed to discuss how it is discouraged. It varies, but it is never pleasant. I have been subjected to it in the past. I won’t describe what happened, it isn't permitted, but I would do anything to avoid facing it again."
"Some basics now. You saw the sign at the entrance? About the secured area? Those rules apply to us. We don't get clothes, so the first rule is easy. As for the collar, if yours is like mine it's another easy one; Master neglected to leave a key so I could take it off. Same for the chastity belt, what the Wardens call a control belt, oh yes, it does indeed control. Not likely you will be taking that off on your own either. The other rules are for when you are moved from one place to another. Outside of a locked cell like this, you have to be escorted by a Warden at all times, and you have to be in restraints. Considering that a Warden won't even open the door unless he has the cuffs on you first, you won't have to worry about wandering around the corridors by yourself."
Cathy sat back, considering what Paula had told her. The Wardens would have total, unrestricted control over her; she would not be able to put up even a token resistance if they became aggressive. "Paula, the Wardens, they are so powerful, do they ever, um, touch you? As a Master would?"
Paula laughed, and then sighed. "No, you needn't worry about that. Only your Master can make use of you in that way. Besides, they don't have the key to this.” She tapped a finger against the metal shield held close against her body by the belt. "No access. Other that the morning shower routine it stays closed until your Master comes to visit. You are well protected.” Paula grimaced, "protected even against yourself."
Cathy relaxed, relieved that her Master had cared for her enough to protect her against the Wardens. But as she sat there, pausing for a moment to consider what Paula had just said, an uneasy feeling came over her. She had always enjoyed the attention of her Master, sharing their mutual sexual pleasure, virtually on a daily basis. That would not be happening now. She looked down at the belt around her own waist, felt the steel between her legs. She put a hand over the front, touching the cool hardness there. Unconsciously her fingers went to the side, trying to reach underneath, the tight fit stopping her. A cold sense of foreboding ran through Cathy's body as she turned to her companion, asking, "Paula, how long have you been here? How long since your Master last opened your belt?"
Paula turned to Cathy, hung her head, and in a low voice, barely audible, said, "I don't know precisely, we aren't permitted to know the date or time, but I think I have been here at least two years. My Master has not visited me for at least one year. My belt has remained on since his last visit. And if you know what’s good for you get your hand away from there!"
Cathy quickly jerked her hands back. She sat there in shock at Paula's words. Incarcerated here for two years, and more than a year without her Master, Cathy couldn’t imagine conditions like that. "How...why...what happened?" Cathy asked.
"I don't know why my Master has not come for me" Paula answered in a low voice. "The Wardens prepare reports on us and send them to our Masters. If the report is favorable, a Master will visit to encourage her. If the report is not favorable, well, your Master doesn't show up. If he doesn't come for you, then here you stay. You are not allowed any type of outside communication at all; you can’t even call or write to him. There’s no limit on how long anyone stays here."
Paula continued, "You need to know about the classes. We learn from the 'teachers.' Like us, they are submissive females, but they are here only to help train us. They must follow the same rules we do, but they have privileges we do not. We are required to follow their orders. They are not allowed to strike you, or punish you directly, but they can call a Warden and report you for bad behavior. You don't want that to happen. The Wardens of course have no restrictions on what they can do.
"The teachers have had firsthand experience here. They are recruited from former graduates of this very school. They were sent here by their Masters to learn to serve. Now their Masters have sent them back to teach, but not a one is happy to be back here again and they let us know it. Be careful around them, they can make life miserable for you, and even worse, they can influence the progress reports sent to your Master. Sometimes I think the reason I have been here so long is that some teacher keeps giving me poor reviews, but I really don't know, we are never allowed to see the reports."
Cathy covered her mouth, hiding a yawn. "I'm sorry, but I was up much of the night coming here. Will we be given some bedding to sleep on?"
"You just broke several rules," Paula admonished Cathy. "You are not permitted to discuss anything prior to coming here. Don't even tell anyone what today's date is, we are not allowed to keep track of time. As for sleeping, eating, any activity, you do it only when given permission. No matter how tired you are, don't fall asleep until you have approval. The Wardens will bring something for us to eat, and will take us to dormitories when it is time for us to sleep. Don't ever ask."
Cathy nodded, "Okay, I get it. But isn't there anything we can do?"
"You can wait, and obey," Paula shot back immediately. "That's what we are here for. Put anything else out of your head. You won't fool them for a minute. These people are experts. They watch us every minute of the day; listen to every word we say. You can't keep any secrets from them. If you don't change, learn what they are teaching you, work as hard as you can, then your future is staring at those bars.
"Now, a Warden will probably be coming soon, with some food. When you hear the hallway gate open, you must immediately come to a kneeling position, in the rear of the cell. Face the door in front, keep your back straight, legs apart, hands on thighs, head down, your eyes focused on a point just in front of your knees. Hmm, with handcuffs on just hold your hands in front of you, at your waist. Don't speak, and don't move, unless the Warden addresses you. Stay that way until he has walked past the front of the cell. You will learn when you can break position. For now, wait until I give you the all clear."
No sooner had Paula spoken than both the women heard the rattle of a key in the hallway gate. Quickly Cathy moved to kneel as Paula had told her, glancing over at the other woman to see if she had missed anything. Since her wrists were still bound together she had to hold them in front rather than on her thighs as Paula did. At the sound of the Warden's footsteps Cathy straightened her back before lowering her gaze.
The footsteps stopped. Cathy dared not look up, but she sensed the Warden at the cell door, standing there, inspecting them. A sudden fear stabbed at her, would her position be acceptable? Would the Warden take her away, to "discourage her improper behavior?" She concentrated on breathing, holding herself motionless, praying that she would be found pleasing.
The Warden motioned behind him to a nearby woman with a small cart. She came over to the cell door, the chains fastening her ankles together making a faint rattle. She pushed two paper boxes through the cell door bars, moving quickly back to her cart when she finished, after a nod from the Warden. He motioned with his hand for her to follow when he left.
Cathy and Paula still knelt in position, waiting. Finally they heard the sound of the hallway gate being shut, and Paula raised her head. "It's okay to move now, let's eat.” Paula stood and picked up the box lunches on the floor. Each contained a sandwich and a bottle of water. “Another rule, you have to eat the entire meal, no matter what it is, and you can’t share any of it with anyone else. You can’t save any of it for later either.”
Cathy relaxed, returning to her sitting position against the wall. When she reached out to take one of the meals from Paula she noticed her hand trembling. What had happened? She had been terrified to move, afraid she might displease the Warden, a complete stranger. She leaned back against the wall, too weak and shaken to move. "I know, take a deep breath, close your eyes for a moment, calm down," came Paula's comforting words. "Try to eat something. And no, I'm not surprised at your reaction, it happens to all of us. Just try to relax and let it be natural; it will come easier that way. The Wardens are large, powerful, commanding men, all true dominants; you can't help but respond to them. And in a very real sense, if you fail to please them, well...," Paula trailed off.
Cathy and Paula sat together, slowly eating, each lost in thought, Paula hoping for the day her Master would return, Cathy hoping she would be able to survive the days to come. "Is this breakfast, lunch, or dinner?" Cathy asked.
"No, don't ask a question like that. It means you are trying to keep track of the day. We have meals, we go to classes, we sleep, sometimes we have a bit of free time, and if we are very lucky a visit from our Masters. There is no fixed schedule; we simply do as we are told. I don't know what will happen next. We might be taken to a class, or we might be allowed to sleep. We wait; others will make the choice for us. That’s part of what you need to learn here."
Paula continued to tell Cathy about the rules, no fighting, don't raise your voice, be respectful and pay attention to Wardens and teachers at all times, the list went on and on. "Just remember," Paula summarized, "when in doubt, wait for someone to tell you what to do. And one other thing. Don't ever try to get around this belt," she emphasized by tapping a finger on the metal shield covering her. "It isn't easy, but you might be able to work a finger under it. Don't even think about it. No matter where you are, they will catch you. Trust me, the consequences are not something you ever want to go through."
Cathy jerked her hand away from the edge of the shield, next to her leg. She had been absent-mindedly rubbing it while thinking about her Master. Cathy looked up, all around the cell, searching for hidden cameras or microphones. Paula noticed her searching and shook her head.
"Don't bother looking. I don't know where they are, but they have to be here somewhere. These days cameras are no bigger than the size of a pin so there is no way you can find them. Same for microphones. I’m sure every room is fully wired and someone is watching. I do know they seem to see and hear everything. That’s why no one has ever been able to keep anything secret here.” Paula smiled ruefully, "I found out the hard way."
Again both of them heard the hallway gate, which meant a Warden was coming. Cathy and Paula quickly knelt. The Warden stopped at the cell door, then in clipped words he ordered, "Both of you, stand and approach the door.” Paula gracefully rose to her feet, swiftly moving to the door with short steps. Cathy stood behind her, trying to copy Paula's graceful movements as best she could but hampered by the handcuffs on her wrists. Both stopped at the door, facing the Warden. Neither one moved or spoke, waiting for the next order. “You,” he pointed to Paula, “turn around. Put your hands behind your back.”
The Warden took out a set of handcuffs from a pouch on his belt. He fastened Paula's hands behind her, reaching through the bars. Then he turned to Cathy. “Hold out your hands,” he ordered. He reached in and unlocked her left wrist. “Turn around, hands behind your back.” He locked her wrists together again, this time behind her back. Then he crouched down, reaching through the bars to lock leg irons around Cathy's ankles. He reached over and placed an identical set of leg chains on Paula. Finished with their restraints he stood again, unlocking their door. He took Paula out first, locking one end of a chain to Paula's handcuffs, and then motioned for Paula to come through the door. He fastened the other end of the chain to Cathy's handcuffs, linking the two of them together. Very practical, thought Cathy, we can’t dash off in opposite directions.
The Warden closed the cell door behind them before starting down the hallway, his hand on Paula’s upper arm. Chained together, Cathy had to follow. She watched Paula closely, trying to emulate her poise and walk as Paula took short quick steps, working within the limits of her leg chains to keep up with the Warden’s pace. Cathy struggled to keep up, her own chains sharply limiting her ability to walk.
As they walked down the corridor, Cathy was uncertain of what was to come. Was she being taken to a class, to face the dreaded teachers? Or worse, to be punished? She thought back to when the meal came, had she sensed some kind of disappointment in the guard? Or the way her hand had rubbed against the belt, was that not allowed? What would they do to her and would Paula be punished too, because Cathy had not learned quickly enough? Whatever was about to happen, she knew she could not prevent it.
The Warden led the two women through an empty corridor, destination unknown. From long practice Paula was able to match the pace, but Cathy could not keep up with the guard, stumbling several times as the chain linking her ankles pulled taut, threatening to make her trip and fall. The Warden caught her and kept her from falling, but a quick glance by Cathy revealed a frown on the Warden's face. He slowed down, but she could tell he was not pleased. Cathy again concentrated on the short, swift steps Paula was taking, trying to copy them. It seemed she would have to learn how to walk again.
Twice they stopped while the Warden unlocked a barred gate in the corridor. The point of all the security wasn’t lost on Cathy. Escaping from a cell would get her no farther than the next gate. As far as she could see every door required a key, and only the Wardens had the keys. Beyond that there were no signs or markers of any sort in the corridors or next to the gates. Cathy realized she couldn’t even retrace her steps back to the cell she and Paula had been in. Somehow the Wardens knew exactly where to go, but she couldn’t figure out how they did it.
The Warden finally stopped at a solid metal door off the corridor, opened it, led the two women through, and locked it behind them. They walked down yet another hallway, passing several cells with three or four women in each. Cathy saw that all were kneeling, dressed in nothing more than a collar and belt, the wide strip of metal prominent between their spread legs. The Warden stopped at a cell door, opened the door, pushed Cathy and Paula inside, then slammed shut the door. Both women stood just inside the door, not moving, waiting for the next command. The Warden reached through the bars, freed their ankles, and then removed their handcuffs. He turned and walked away.
"Okay, you can relax now," Paula told Cathy. "This is Beth," Paula pointed to the nearer woman, "and this is Twenty-Three. Her Master does not allow her to use a name, so the Wardens have assigned a number to her.” The other, younger nameless woman looked up, nodded to the newcomer. Cathy looked over to Paula. "This is a dormitory. The Wardens will bring us some cushions and bedding in a while, so we can sleep on the floor. The Wardens move us around, so no telling if we will be in the same cell next time. No one knows how many women are kept here. Because of the way we are separated, it can be weeks before you realize someone is gone. Even then you never know if it's because her Master came for her," Paula lowered her voice, "or if the Wardens have taken her away for another reason."
Cathy, tired after the long night, strode to the back wall and sat down. She looked over at Twenty-Three, sitting close by. "Hi, it must be difficult if you can't even use your name.” The woman looked back at Cathy, shrugged, and then lowered her head. Cathy thought she might have said something to offend the young woman.
Beth spoke up for the first time, "Cathy, you should know that Twenty-Three is not allowed to speak, except when directly addressed by a Warden or teacher. She was caught whispering to another woman during a training class. The teacher called a Warden, who ordered Twenty-Three not to speak without permission.”
Cathy looked at Twenty-Three, then back to Beth. "How long will she be punished?"
Beth and Paula both smiled as Paula answered. "Until a Warden allows her to speak again. That's part of the process of discouraging improper behavior; you don't know how long the punishment will last. It could be an hour, a day, or a month."
Hearing a sound in the hallway outside their cell all four women quickly knelt facing the door. A Warden appeared at the door, followed by two women pushing a cart laden with bedding. At a nod from the Warden the two women pushed four sleeping pads through the bars, and four light blankets. The Warden then moved down the hallway. He was followed by the two women, accompanied by a light rattle from the leg chains between their ankles as they pushed the bedding cart behind him.
Cathy stood after the other women rose, and followed them over to the bedding. Each one took a pad and blanket, picked out a spot on the cell floor, and made up a modest bed. Once more she looked over to Paula. "Wait until the lights go down before you stretch out. While the lights are dim you don't have to kneel when a Warden comes by. You can sleep until you are awakened and the lights come back up. The Wardens will walk by several times at night, making rounds. When the lights go down, you are not allowed to talk or move around.” Cathy nodded to show she understood Paula's explanation.
The women stood by their beds for several minutes, until the lights finally dimmed. She lay down, covering herself with the light blanket, little more than a thin sheet. The events of the last day sweep over her; her rebellion, her subsequent capture, her Master putting her in here. She closed her eyes, drifting off to an exhausted sleep, feeling the fear of the unknown facing her, and the loneliness of her isolation, cut off from her Master's love and care.
The First Day
Cathy woke up when a hand shook her shoulder. "Get up sleepy, you don't want a Warden to catch you in bed," Paula warned her. She opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented at the sight of the bare walls and the barred cell door. Then she remembered where she was, and quickly rose from her sparse bed. She saw the other three women quietly folding their blankets and stacking the sleeping pads near the door. She bent to fold her own blanket as they had, and placed her bedding on top of the small pile. Cathy then looked over at Paula, a question on her face as to what would happen next.
"In a few moments the cart will come by to collect the bedding, and we usually get something to eat at the same time. After breakfast we are taken to the showers to clean up, followed by an inspection and classes afterward. That's the usual, but it doesn't always happen that way," Paula explained. "Sometimes we don't eat, sometimes we have exercise periods, and sometimes....well, we have disciplinary training.” Paula and the other women grimaced at those words.
A now familiar sound from the corridor, and all four women knelt. The bedding cart moved along the corridor, stopping at other cells until it finally reached their door. Two women, under the watchful eye of a Warden, pulled the bedding through the bars and piled it on the cart. The Warden raised his hand, and the two women immediately stopped what they were doing. He took one of the blankets, examined the folds, and then shook it out, examining it. Satisfied there were no secret messages on the blanket, or anything hidden inside, he handed it back to one of the two cart attendants, who folded it carefully and placed it back on the cart. The Warden and the bedding cart moved off.
Cathy started to relax, but stopped as she saw that none of the others had moved. She held her position, copying what the others did. And wisely so, for in a moment another cart was at the door, this one with breakfast. After the food cart moved on, the women rose and walked to the door, each one taking a covered plate. Cathy followed, picking up the last one. As they sat eating, Cathy asked Paula and Beth about the routine during the day, classes, inspections, training sessions.
The food cart returned, picking up the empty plates. Behind the cart was a group of Wardens. Two of them stopped at the cell door. One stood in front of the door and began issuing orders. "Stand up, line up in single file facing the door.” All four women stood and got in line to comply with his command. He unlocked the door, held it open just enough for one woman to pass through at a time. "First woman, step into the corridor, extend your wrists.” First in line, Beth stepped through the open cell doorway and stopped, extending her arms out in front. The second Warden fastened handcuffs on her outstretched wrists
The handcuffs were connected to a long chain with several other pairs of cuffs. As the Wardens ordered each woman out, she was locked into the next set of cuffs on the chain. The last one out, Cathy was at the end of the chain. At the head of the chain, a Warden gripped Beth's arm and began to lead her toward the hallway exit, the rest of the women forced to follow as the slack in the group chain was taken up. Cathy watched the others in front of her, trying to imitate their movements, back straight, head down, with quick, short steps.
The Warden led them through several gates to the shower room. One at a time, each woman was released from the coffle chain and allowed to enter the shower room through an open door. As Cathy went through, the Warden shut and locked the door behind her. She followed Paula into the showers.
The warm water and soft soap felt luxurious. Cathy stayed under the shower as long as she could, relaxing in the feel of the water against her skin. As the others finished and moved off she followed them into the next area where a woman was issuing towels from a small room. Cathy took one of the large, soft, fluffy towels and dried herself. Following the others, she next picked up a small hair dryer and, watching how the others did it, dried under her collar and belt. She closed her eyes a moment, enjoying the sensation of the warm air through the narrow slit of the shield in the front of her belt. But only for a moment, remembering Paula's warning about trying to defeat the belt's control. She moved over to a sink and mirror, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair.
Finishing up, she headed to the exit door, where the other women had gathered together. Cathy felt ready to face her tasks for the morning, but suddenly realized she didn't know what time it was, or even which day. Thinking back, her Master had brought her into the school at dawn Saturday morning, she had spent some time with Paula in a cell, and then slept, but she had no idea of how long she had been asleep. It could be either late Saturday night, or some time Sunday morning. No windows, no clocks, and an irregular schedule, made it impossible for them to track how long they had been here.
As before, a Warden came to the exit door, ordered them to line up single file, and again handcuffed them together in a line. As they walked along yet another unmarked corridor, Cathy began to feel lost, unsure of which direction they were moving. There were no identifying marks anywhere on branching corridors or doors. It was like a maze, no way to know if she had passed through the same corridor an hour ago. Even if she could escape from the Warden now escorting them, she would soon become lost, and the numerous locked gates would further limit where she could go. She grimaced, realizing her Master was right; she would not be leaving of her own choice. She wondered how the Wardens always knew exactly where to go, how they could tell direction without any visual help.
Eventually they stopped in a hallway, behind another group of women. The group in front was chained together by the wrists too, but this group was facing the wall, hands raised above their heads. When the supervising Warden in Cathy's group halted them he ordered the women to assume the same position, hands above their heads, against the wall, feet back, legs spread, leaning against the wall. Another Warden was moving down the line, inspecting each woman, checking the security of her collar and belt.
As the inspector reached Cathy, she tensed. She felt his hands on her, first testing the belt fit, that it wouldn't slip over her wide hips, then making sure the shield was held tightly against her. He pulled on her collar, verifying it was securely fastened about her neck, then ran his hand along first the collar and then the chastity belt, feeling for any signs of tampering. He stepped back, his eyes conducting a visual inspection. She held her breath, not daring to move, yet stimulated by his touch and gaze. After a moment, he moved on, inspecting Beth, next to Cathy, in the same thorough way. Cathy remembered to breathe again, thankful she had passed inspection.
First Class
The inspection finally completed, a Warden at the front of the line unlocked the door and began passing the women into the classroom. When Cathy reached the door she was freed of the chain, after which the Warden took her arm and guided her through the classroom door. Inside the room Cathy looked around, seeing a larger space compared to her previous small cells. There were several small, flat cushions in rows on the floor. The women in front of her were positioning themselves behind the cushions, standing quietly. Cathy walked over to the next free one, standing as the other women did, feet slightly apart, hands at side, back straight, head down, not talking or moving about. Several more women came in behind Cathy, after which she heard the door shut and the loud click when the lock engaged.
The class stood, waiting, in silence, until another door opened at the front. Cathy raised her head just enough to see a woman dressed, or rather undressed as she was, nothing but collar and belt, but Cathy knew this was a teacher. The long thin pointer stick in the teacher's hand represented authority, authority over Cathy and the rest of the class. An uneasy feeling came over Cathy. Until this moment she hadn't really thought about the teachers, what Paula had told her, but now Cathy realized she would be forced to learn, to follow instructions and obey orders from another female.
The teacher walked to the front center of the class, turned and looked at the women in front of her. She stood there a minute, slapping the pointer against her leg, before she spoke. "I am your teacher for this class. You will address me only as Miss Sarah. Learn what I teach you, and you will be able to leave this place. Don't learn, and we will get to know each other very well. Yes, very well indeed."
She continued, "Now, you will kneel on the cushion, facing the front of the room. You will kneel with your legs together, sitting on your heels, hands on your knees, back straight, head up, looking straight ahead. You will not speak or move unless ordered to do so. You will pay attention to what I say. Do it now."
Along with the rest of the class, Cathy knelt on the small cushion, in the position ordered, looking straight ahead. The teacher moved about the class, occasionally correcting someone with a word or a touch from her pointer. As she stopped at Cathy's side, Cathy felt the pointer in the small of her back. "Feet slightly farther apart, and don't try to lean forward.” Cathy quickly moved to change her posture as the teacher ordered. The teacher paused a moment more before moving on.
When she finished her inspection the teacher returned to the front of the class, with all eyes on her. "You are here to learn how to serve your Master. Each of you has done something to displease him, that's how you got here in the first place. I and the other teachers are here to make sure you don't make that mistake again. You are here to focus on one goal, pleasing your Master. The isolation is to keep out the distractions. Your confinement here, well, that’s to motivate you.” She smiled at the last part.
Cathy knelt on her cushion, listening to the teacher lecture about the submissive mental attitude. As Sarah the teacher moved around in the front of the room, Cathy followed her every movement, not daring to glance away. On and on the teacher droned, constantly returning to the core of her lesson, "your Master is always present.” As the lecture wore on, the kneeling position became increasingly uncomfortable.
Finally the teacher stopped. "We’ll take a break now. You may stand and stretch, walk about, and talk quietly.” Cathy sighed in relief, standing up with the others to work out the growing pain in her legs and lower back.
As Cathy slowly paced back and forth the teacher motioned for her to come to the front of the room. "Cathy, please come with me," Sarah told her, gesturing toward the teacher's door at the front of the classroom.
"Yes, Miss Sarah," Cathy answered, following the teacher to the door. A tall, handsome looking Warden opened the door from the other side, motioning Sarah and Cathy into the hallway. A plain wooden door was open just down the corridor. With a look at the Warden, and his nod, Sarah led Cathy down the hall and through the door, into a small plain room beyond.
From the furniture, it appeared to be a lounge for the teachers. There were a few round tables with chairs around them. Sarah went over to a table with a package on top of it. Unwrapping the package Sarah took out two dresses. She checked the size tags, then handed one to Cathy, "Here, this should fit you, put it on."
Cathy took the dress, started to put it on, and then stopped as she remembered the sign at the lower entrance. "Miss Sarah, the rules said we weren't allowed clothing," Cathy questioned, looking at the teacher.
"Normally no, but teachers have special privileges in the lounge area, including the right to wear clothes. As my guest you may also wear a dress. My Master, who is also a Warden here, the one you just saw in the hallway, has given permission," Sarah reassured Cathy. They both got dressed before sitting down at the table.
"You can relax in here; you won't be punished for breaking any rules. I like to bring the new ones here and get to know them, casually. My Master will join us in a little while. Meanwhile, we can talk over a cup of coffee," Sarah explained, while she stood and went to a coffeepot in the corner. Sarah poured two cups, and then brought them back to the table.
Cathy took a drink from the cup, then leaned back in her chair and relaxed. "May I speak freely?" she asked Sarah.
"Yes, within reason. I won't answer questions about the Center, or about anyone else, but I can tell you a little about myself," Sarah answered. Sarah went on explaining that her Master had worked here for five years as a Warden, she herself had been sent here by her Master once, several years ago, and later she had become a teacher, both because her Master ordered it, and Sarah could be near her Master more often. As Sarah talked, Cathy sat back in her chair, coffee cup balanced on one knee over her crossed legs. It was a bit of normality, a pleasant conversation with a friend over coffee, an escape from the oppressive atmosphere in the rest of the Center. They sat talking for about ten minutes when the door opened and the same tall Warden entered. "You may remain seated," he said, "I’m Sarah's Master, Cathy. You may address me as sir.”
Cathy and Sarah both set down their cups and turned to face him. "Thank you, sir," Cathy spoke first, followed by "Welcome, Master," from Sarah. The Warden went to the coffee pot. Cathy quickly uncrossed her legs behind his back. While she watched he poured a cup, and joined them at the table. He took a sip and leaned back, smiling at Cathy and placed his hand on Sarah's knee.
"Please continue your conversation. Like Sarah, I'm on a break right now. The normal rules are relaxed in here. You may talk freely, as long as you are respectful, both to me and your teacher.” He nodded toward Sarah to emphasize his point.
"Yes, sir," Cathy said, "we were talking about how Sarah came to be here.” As Cathy spoke to him, she set the coffee cup on the table and rested her hands in her lap, her legs together, facing him. Cathy was self-conscious when he looked at her, even in the informal situation, and sat straight in her chair.
Sarah continued to talk a few more minutes while she and Cathy drank their coffee. When they had finished, Sarah looked at her Master. He nodded, and she stood, motioning Cathy up as well. "It's time we return to the class. Remove your dress and leave it on the chair, and leave the cup on the table, someone else will see to it.” Cathy stood with Sarah, reluctantly removing her dress, following Sarah's example. The Warden, Sarah's Master, stood and walked to the door.
"Both of you stand in front of me and extend your wrists," he ordered. Once again the rules were in force. Cathy and Sarah stepped forward, raising their arms. The Warden placed handcuffs on each of them, a small chain running from one set of cuffs to the other. Then he took hold of the connecting chain in one hand, and opened the door with the other. Pulling on the cuffs, he led them down the corridor and back to the classroom door.
Unlocking the door, he motioned them both through, removing their restraints before closing and locking the door. The rest of the students in the class were all standing in front of their cushions. Cathy looked at Sarah before taking her place.
The front of the classroom now had two large video monitors, and a control panel between them. The teacher went to the controls, turning on the monitors before facing the class. "I am your teacher. You will address me only as Miss Sarah. You will now kneel, legs together, back straight, face front, hands on knees.” Cathy and the other students did as Sarah ordered.
After everyone had knelt, the teacher pushed a button on the control panel and the image of Cathy and Sarah in the lounge appeared on the screen. Cathy watched with growing unease while the break was replayed. At the end Sarah paused the video.
"Now first, remember what I was saying, your Master is always present, even when he is not with you? Your attitude should always reflect that idea. You do not act one way when he is present, another when he is absent.” Sarah stepped away from the monitors, toward Cathy.
"Cathy, you are new, this may not be obvious to you, so listen carefully. The rest of you, what did Cathy do? Did anyone spot it?"
Silence for a moment, then Beth raised her hand, "Miss Sarah? May I answer?"
Sarah looked around, and then nodded toward Beth, "Go ahead."
"Miss Sarah, when you first sat down and started talking, when Cathy was sitting across from you she had her legs crossed. But after your Master entered, she sat with her legs uncrossed."
"Exactly, very good Beth," the teacher answered. "Cathy? Why the change?"
Cathy hesitated for a moment, an understanding of what Sarah had been lecturing about suddenly dawning in her. "Miss Sarah, it was a difference in attitude. Talking with you, I crossed my legs without even thinking about it. But when your Master entered, at some level I was aware of his power and dominance, even though he isn't my Master. I have always desired to be fully open and available to my Master. I never cross my legs when he is present, it would be too much like trying to conceal myself, to deny my availability to him. I reacted without thinking, uncrossing my legs."
"Precisely, you forgot your Master's presence when it was just the two of us talking," Sarah went on. "Yes, you behaved properly when my Master entered. But there should always be something you have to remind yourself of him, in this case the collar," Sarah raised a hand to the band around her own neck. "Even if you don't have a collar on, there is always something, a bracelet, a necklace or locket, maybe your earrings, something that represents the man in your life. Use it as a constant reminder to think of him, about him. It is a tool to reinforce your own submissive desires."
Cathy reflected on the comment, remembering the small silver locket and chain he had given her. She always wore it when they were separated for any length of time, though she had left it on the dresser when she ran off. It would take on a new meaning now, a reminder not only of her Master, but also of how she should act and think.
"Well done, that concludes the class for today. You may stand. Line up single file at the rear door, Wardens will escort you to your next assignment.” Sarah turned and went to the teacher's entrance, waiting for a Warden to come for her.
Cathy got in line with the others, still pondering what she had learned. When she came to the door, a Warden took her arm and handcuffed her to a chain with three other women she hadn't met before. The same Warden started to lead the group down the hallway. Chained to the rest, Cathy followed at the end.
All in all, she thought, it hadn't been so bad. Miss Sarah, the teacher, had been strict, but also friendly and understanding, not at all like the harsh and cruel treatment she had dreaded. And she had actually learned something. She smiled, no, this wouldn't be so bad after all. All she had to do was pay attention, follow the rules, learn the lessons, and surely her master would soon take her back home. She looked forward to talking with her new friend Paula about her lesson today.