Authors: Emily Tilton
Now Abigail could only cry out wordlessly into the mat beneath her as Master J fucked her in an easy rhythm. Miss Anne-Marie began the initiatory lesson that Zoe felt she could already quote verbatim, so memorable had it been for her.
“Abigail, listen to me now, please. As I said, I am Miss Anne-Marie, and I am the academic dean of the Institute. I will supervise your training, while the master who is fucking you right now, Master J, will be your training master.”
Miss Anne-Marie spoke slowly, her words making a kind of counterpoint to the wet sounds of Master J’s huge cock inside Abigail and Abigail’s moans of passionate discomfort at being stretched by his possession of her.
“We have brought you here to the Institute at your owner’s behest, to train you to please him. Everything that will befall you here will be as your owner wishes it, and at the end of your training, he will come to test your skills, and then to take you home with him.”
“Oh… please…” Abigail said. “I’m… I’m going to…”
“Do not come, girl,” Master J said. “If you come, you will be punished.”
“Oh, God… I…” Zoe saw Miss Anne-Marie nod to Master J. Master J stood up, withdrawing from Abigail, and leaving Abigail sobbing in frustration. Zoe could tell that Miss Anne-Marie did not want Abigail punished right then.
“Thank Master J, my dear,” Anne-Marie said.
“Thank you,” Abigail panted, her face still against the mat.
“Zoe,” said Miss Anne-Marie, “what should Abigail say?”
“She should say ‘Thank you for fucking me, master,’” Zoe said as promptly as she could.
“Abigail?” asked Miss Anne-Marie.
“Oh, God… Thank you for… for f-fucking m-me, master.” Abigail’s body seemed to quake as she forced the words out.
“You are very welcome, Abigail,” Master J said. “I’ll see you later.” He walked away, and disappeared back through the door under the stairs that Zoe thought must lead to some kind of control facility that the girls never saw.
“You will find this house which we call simply the Institute quite luxurious, I think,” Miss Anne-Marie said, “and though your training will seem strange and new, let me assure you—as I know you have already been assured several times—that you will benefit greatly from it. We are absolutely certain that through your training as a concubine you will gain the ability to live a life you have never been able to admit to yourself you wanted. You may rise.”
Abigail slowly straightened up to her knees, then stood a little unsteadily in front of Miss Anne-Marie.
“Zoe will show you your room, and then take you to meet the other girls. They will show you over the Institute, before you have dinner. You will be able to spend the evening getting to know them, before bed. In the morning, you will have your first classes and then, after lunch, your first session with Master J. Do not worry—Zoe will tell you all this again very soon.” Miss Anne-Marie smiled kindly. “I will see you soon—probably at your first conference, tomorrow evening.
Au revoir
.”
“
Au revoir, mademoiselle,
” Abigail said, her high-school French apparently coming back to her, irresistibly.
“Good-bye, miss,” Zoe said.
Chapter Seventeen
Zoe stepped forward and took Abigail’s hand. “Hard part’s over for today,” she said. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you the good stuff.”
Abigail allowed herself to be led, feeling like the dream she’d had before she woke up here had been more realistic than what had just happened to her, and what seemed likely to happen now. In that dream, she thought, there had just been Mr. LeMarchand, but he had seemed to change into different people as he… yes, as he fucked her, pushing her knees back almost to her ears and calling her a “good, tight girl with a well-behaved little cunt” as he did. The mere thought of the dream made her blush furiously, but so did the thought of how wet she had seemed to become just at the sight of Master J’s enormous cock.
“They tell us—I mean Miss Anne-Marie and the masters—that the Institute is hundreds—maybe thousands—of years old. But they just moved here, so everything looks new and empty. There are enough halls for at least three times as many girls as are here now, and later you’ll see that there are tons and tons of empty rooms downstairs, but I’m just going to take you to Master J’s hall right now. We all have rooms on it.”
They had reached the top of the grand stairway. Zoe turned about, and Abigail did the same. They looked down over the splendid foyer, marble-floored and graced with a spectacular chandelier. “To the right,” Zoe said, “is the great hall. We haven’t done anything there yet, but Miss Anne-Marie says it’s for special functions. I suppose it’s not hard to guess what sort of function that would be, but it’s kind of fun to imagine.” She looked sympathetically at Abigail. “Or I guess it’s fun for me, but maybe not for you?”
“So you’re a volunteer? Like… Victoria?”
“Oh, that’s right! You met Victoria! What a sweetheart, right?”
Abigail felt herself blush, and clearly Zoe saw it. She giggled. “Don’t answer that, I guess.”
“No!” Abigail protested. “She was so kind to me… but… you know…”
“Yes,” Zoe replied. “Well, I think I do, but like you said I’m a volunteer, so it’s not the same. Can I ask you… did you really think it was wrong… I mean, to do this stuff?”
“You didn’t?” Abigail asked, astonished. “How could it not be wrong?”
Zoe looked at her in wonder. “Even after being with Master Ian and with your owner, you still think it’s wrong. I mean, from what Victoria said… you definitely know that your body wants it, right?”
Abigail’s blush now felt like a furnace in her cheeks. “The things my body wants are bad, and if I hadn’t been brought here I would have never done them. Eventually, maybe with the help of a psychologist and maybe with the help of God, I would have gotten rid of those desires. The fact that I have to go along with all this… well… what else can I do, when I’ll get caned if I don’t, until I would do anything just to get them to stop caning me?”
“Wow. Miss Anne-Marie wasn’t kidding, was she?”
“About what?”
“That the Institute was good for girls like me, but it’s something that girls like you could never, ever be happy without.”
Abigail felt tears come into her eyes. “But… but I was happy, before.”
“Well… I’m sorry, sweetie—I don’t want to make you sad, so let me just say that I’m not sure I believe you. Anyway, on our right is the great hall and on our left is the day room, which is just a beautiful living room for sitting around in. After we meet the others, I’ll show you what’s through the hall that leads back; the refectory—that’s the dining room—and the movie theater. That’s how you get to the classrooms, too, but they’re off in the wings. Understand? A little, at least?”
Abigail nodded, thinking against her will about what Zoe had said—about not really being happy. Not that Abigail was really happy now, of course. But in her heart of hearts a little voice was admitting that she saw a greater chance to be happy along the path into which the Institute had wrenched her life than she had seemed able to anticipate before. The idea of the internship in San Francisco’s Silicon Valley (had it all just been a ruse by the Institute?) had given her the prospect of coding—of really coding, for the new stuff that mattered—but something made her think that her new life would still give her the freedom to do that stuff, without having to worry that her untoward desires would drive her mad. By forcing her to live those untoward desires, she had to admit that the Institute had shown her possibilities she would never have imagined.
Zoe led Abigail away from the staircase and toward a hall that opened off to the right. “This is Master J’s hall,” she said. “Oh—I need to tell you—you must always kneel to Master J, as soon as you see him. If you don’t, you’ll get spanked.”
“Of course,” Abigail found herself responding in an almost light-hearted way. “Is there anything you don’t get spanked for?”
Zoe giggled. “I don’t think so, actually.”
They had reached the hallway, lined with doors that each had a brass fixture displaying a typed card. ‘Beatrice (250)’ Abigail read on the card on one door.
Zoe pointed to the left. “That’s Master J’s training room, where we have our sessions. Sometimes it’ll just be you, and sometimes other girls will join you. When you have your first one tomorrow, he’ll probably make it one on one. That’s what he did with me, at least.”
On the next door, Abigail saw ‘Abigail (253).’
“The number means that you’re the 253rd concubine to train at the Institute since they started using numbers. Like I said, the Institute goes back to the Middle Ages, but apparently they didn’t start using numbers until the twentieth century.”
“So I’m number 253?”
“That’s right. I’m number 248. They don’t use our numbers, though. I think it’s probably to make us feel more submissive, and maybe for their own record-keeping? Anyway, let’s get you into your room and get you dressed in your nightgown. Did someone tell you what the colors mean?”
Abigail blushed. “I should be wearing blue, right?”
Zoe nodded and opened the door. “No locks, of course,” she said. “Masters can come use you whenever they want, though I’m pretty sure they have to arrange it with Master J.”
Abigail’s heart beat very fast at this. “Have many come and… used you?” she asked fearfully as they stepped into the large, luxurious room.
“Hmm. Define many. I’ve been here six nights—I’m pretty sure, though everything seems to run together—and I think I’ve had visits on four of them? It was Master J twice, and Master Ian once, and Miss Anne-Marie once.”
“Miss Anne-Marie?!”
Zoe giggled. “Yes. That was fun, actually.”
Abigail swallowed, looking around at the lovely little desk, the high-backed desk chair, the comfortable-looking reading chair with the little bookcase next to it. She looked at the king-sized bed, covered in a patchwork quilt that reminded her of home. Strangely, though she stood there naked in what might be called a very nice dungeon cell, she felt not the slightest pang of homesickness. Instead, she thought of what her father would do if he heard about what his daughter had undergone, and doubtless would undergo. She imagined lying to him, and telling him that it had all been against her will. She imagined him looking at her with approval as she repudiated her inmost self, and telling her she was a good girl.
Then she imagined telling him the truth, that the thought of being made to serve the lusts of Miss Anne-Marie made her so wet that a part of her cried out inside that if they tried to take her away from the Institute before Miss Anne-Marie had paid her a visit in the night, she would kick and scream and have to be hauled away as she grabbed onto this lovely furniture, desperate to stay where they would dominate her without asking if she liked it.
Abigail turned her eyes back to Zoe, who looked at her with curious sympathy. This dimension of the experience hadn’t occurred to Abigail even when she had met Victoria. Zoe clearly pitied Abigail, but also for some reason envied her—as if Zoe thought from moment to moment that the experience of being held captive and made to serve the lusts of strangers, under penalty of the lash, were somehow wasted on Abigail, since Abigail couldn’t appreciate it properly.
“The closet’s over there.” Zoe pointed. “Your nightgowns are inside.”
Abigail went to the closet door and opened it. The nightgowns hung prominently there, but so too did a series of other things—silky and lacy and generally very, very small. Abigail couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t seen such things on mannequins in store windows at the mall, but she blushed when she realized that the fantasy that Mr. LeMarchand would give her such a garment, and tell her to put it on or get a spanking, had nearly come true.
Still, she said to Zoe, “What are those?” as if she had never seen such things before.
“Stuff your owner picked out for you to wear. You’ll have some special lessons in wearing it, I think. I have a few things like that in my closet, but I haven’t put any of it on yet.”
“How can you have a lesson in wearing lingerie?” Abigail asked, genuinely horrified at that thought as somehow walking naked through a manor house hadn’t seemed to be able to horrify her.
Zoe laughed. “Well, for a start, it’s hard to take off as sexily as your owner will want you to take it off, and it’s even harder to put on sexily, and…”
Abigail felt the blush grow even stronger.
“…different pieces of underwear are suited to, you know, different poses and things. Master Ian does deportment, and I think he’s going to be the one to do those lessons.”
Abigail decided not to pursue the matter further, and took the blue nightgown from the rack, noticing as she did so that some of the same triangular cushions that had been in the room where she’d had her first sessions also graced the closet of her own room here.
When she had put it on, Zoe led her down the hall to the bathroom. “There are six of us in all, now that you’re here,” she said as she walked. “You, me, Victoria, Beatrice, Penny, and Julie. You’re the only pick-up, and the only one who’s met her owner. We’re all really jealous, but I know that doesn’t make much sense to you.”
“Well, I guess the more you say it, the more I can kind of see it from your point of view,” Abigail lied, without really meaning to speak an untruth but understanding the moment the words left her lips that she had. She absolutely understood why they would be jealous of her, because the version of Abigail that had inhabited her erotic fantasy life for so long would have been jealous if another girl had been given the chance to be dominated by her wealthy, powerful owner, and that fantasy Abigail hadn’t had that chance yet.
Zoe gave her a sidelong glance, perhaps suspecting the falsehood, as she pushed open the swinging door to the enormous bathroom, done up in pink. Abigail noticed immediately that there were two huge bathtubs, several large pink hassocks, and then, with a flush, that the toilets sat unprotected by any stalls, in a large expanse of pink and white tile.
She looked at Zoe. Zoe gave her a twisted smile. “It’s not my favorite thing. Beatrice likes it, and Miss Anne-Marie says that it’s so standard for doms that every girl at the Institute needs to be trained to it.”