The predictable flush rose.
"Ah, he is. Tell me about him?"
Carolyn opened her mouth, closed it. What do I say? She knew better than to complain, though, honestly, there wasn't much she could have criticized. He humiliated her, often; hurt her, forced her to do things she didn't want to do. Gave her more pleasure than she had ever known. He devised torments and made her cooperate in her own debasement, or ordered her to do impossible things just so she would earn another punishment. Sometimes he punished her without any reason at all.
She loved every minute of it, and yearned for more.
Grace was still waiting.
"He is very…” Sexy. Intelligent. Yummy. “…focused. And very good at what he does."
"And what is his focus?” Judging from her smile, Grace knew full well. Considering the various scenes Carolyn had been made to enact, she would have to have been blind not to-or dumb, and none of the instructors were that.
"He is an ass man."
A peal of laughter was Grace's only reply; Carolyn didn't know why she laughed, but didn't ask. Safer not to. They drank tea, or rather, Grace drank and Carolyn sipped, and talked about classes and homework, and then Grace set her cup down. “How do you feel about what your tutor asks of you?"
Carolyn choked on a laugh of her own. “He doesn't ask.” But that wasn't an answer. She took a breath. “I never knew. All those years, I just never knew it could be like that. He … I didn't want to do what he told me to, but when I did, it felt … even before it stopped feeling bad, it felt so good…"
"Stop. One sentence at a time, please."
She shook her head, feeling the breeze on her overheated cheeks. “I always thought it was disgusting, thought even gays only used their mouths and, and their assholes ‘cause they didn't have anything better.” She stopped to see if that was clear enough; Grace motioned for her to go on. “I was so excited when he chose me, but the very first time I reported to him, he told me to put my finger up my ass. And I just-I was so disappointed he was a pervert.
"But, ‘your place is to obey,’ so I did. Eventually. And it didn't feel like I expected it all. Which kind of figures, because I didn't know anything when I got here! I just thought I did."
"A lesson well learned,” Grace murmured. “Continue."
Carolyn shifted in her seat, caught herself. Just the thought of her tutor made her wet. Wetter. I've been wet since the day I came here. “He taught me to enjoy anal play."
"Is that what you call it? When you're thinking about it?"
"Well, no. But you've said it, in class."
"We aren't in class now. What do you call what he does to you?"
Carolyn sighed, “heaven,” not loudly enough to be heard. In a normal conversational tone, she replied, “Ass-stuffing. Or butt-plugging. Things like that."
"Not terribly elegant terms. Has your tutor started you on language lessons yet?"
"French.” She winced. She wasn't doing very well with that; it seemed sometimes like her tongue just didn't fold the right way. And understanding what other people said was almost as hard as trying to speak, sometimes. She'd catch the meaning more often than the words. Maybe another vocabulary drill before bed. But I can't worry about that right now! What was she talking about? Oh, right, what classes I take.
"And English?"
"You mean, like, literature? Not yet."
"Well, we shall have to speak of that. But for now,” Grace poured more tea, “you and I shall simply talk."
"About what?"
"Oh, sailing ships. Sealing wax.” The smile said it was a joke; Carolyn didn't get it. “Never mind. It's a literary reference, and you said you're not taking that yet. Tell me about your favorite class-other than mine, of course."
Favorite? God, how to choose? Discipline terrified her, but it was fascinating. Law 1 was bizarre, but she “transgressed” quite a bit in that class. History was nothing but stories, sexy and funny and weird … “History,” she said. “I like history. The way they teach it here."
"And what have you learned in history? One example."
"Did you know Cleopatra had a vibrator? All those years before electricity. The Victorians, too. They used water power…"
* * * *
That odd conversation stuck in Carolyn's mind; what had its purpose been? She completed Orientation and was told to report to a different room one day, for lessons in Elocution. Perhaps that had been the reason, to see what she needed to learn.
But there had been something in Grace's eyes, an odd light when she asked what Carolyn called the things her tutor did.
She couldn't have heard what I said, could she? No, of course not. Besides, what does it matter? I came here to experience, and to learn to enjoy. And God knows, I'm doing that.
* * * *
Academy students had no days off, but there were weekends of a sort-workshops and study periods, longer sessions with tutors, even the odd hour free just to rest. Carolyn had been enjoying one such when an attendant came to fetch her; she went eagerly. No matter how sore she was from his attentions, she was always eager to see her tutor.
"You haven't been corked yet,” he said by way of hello.
"No, sir.” Oh, God, please. I've been waiting so long…
Her expression must have shown her hope; he shook his head. “You haven't earned that yet. But I think you're ready to move a step closer. That is, if you don't have anything better to do?"
The tips of her ears burned, so hot was the flush. Someone told on me. Tom. I'd bet anything. She'd said it a few days before, when a teacher was called out of class and left them there nearly the full period.
"No,” he said as she opened her mouth, “don't apologize. You'll report to the instructor you insulted, for whatever punishment she deems appropriate."
"Yes, sir,” she sighed, and turned toward the door.
"Did I tell you to leave?"
She smiled at the tone of his voice. It went velvet-dark when he was about to test her limits; her body reacted to the sound as to his touch. “No, sir. I am sorry, sir. I'll try to do better. I do not ask your forgiveness."
"Mm.” He looked at her for a long minute, then reached into an open desk drawer. His other hand patted the top of the desk in a familiar command. “On your back."
She arranged herself for his pleasure, folding her skirt up so it would not obscure his view, removing her panties, bending her legs and pulling her knees to her breasts, holding them there.
She felt the tip of his finger press against her anus, opened eagerly. Lubed, it slipped in with only the usual reflex resistance; she pushed as best she could to help him. Too soon, he pulled away. A cool something knocked where the finger had just been.
It was much wider, and her position meant that she couldn't help, but only receive. She shivered, feeling the slow, slow increase in pressure. He was teasing her, she knew. It was hard to remain still; she wanted it inside her. “Please!"
"Remind me."
Oh, damn. She knew what he meant; she had just earned a punishment. At least he didn't stop-thought fled as the whatever-it-was broached her sphincter. Very wide; she felt the stretch, the pain so much like pleasure there was no proper word. He left it there for a timeless moment, then pushed in. She felt the snap as her body closed around the shaft, another yielding as he pushed its length home. And then a pause.
"How does it feel?"
"Wonderful,” Carolyn sighed. The molded cock had ridges she had felt as they passed; could feel now if she squeezed. The mushroom head almost too wide but not quite, shaping her from the inside now; shaft hard and slightly yielding, almost like flesh, like his fingers, like she imagined his cock would be. She pushed her ass up as best she could, silently begging for more.