"Expose your clit.” She froze, blinking, unable to speak. There was no doubt in her mind she had heard correctly this time. But she could not. She hadn't been able to do that for her husband, her ex, the one time he had asked. There was no way she could do for a stranger what she could not have done out of love!
The woman leaned forward in her chair. “Are you refusing the command?"
The soft purr of her voice seemed to slither across the room, crawling to Carolyn's core to nestle there. Dazed with the feeling-so new, incredible!-Carolyn placed her hands over her mound and spread her fingers a bit. Then more, pulling her lips open until she felt the chill air on the tenderest flesh of her body. She smelled herself on the air, and flushed head to toe. Someone chuckled; she screwed her eyes shut. Discipline. She arched her back, offering herself to the view of the strangers before her.
"Well.” The man who had not yet spoken cleared his throat. “Come."
Carolyn shook her head; not refusal, but confusion. “How?” She croaked the word, throat tight with too much emotion. She desperately wanted to obey that single-word command; her whole body felt taut as a bowstring, ready, but she didn't know what to do. She hadn't masturbated much, and had never found the trick to it; her hands felt pleasant on her body but she rarely achieved climax.
"Hm.” He snapped his fingers, and Carolyn's eyes popped open at the sound. A door opened, and she groaned. Another person to see her exposed; she flushed again. The driver appeared, minus her cap, bearing a tray. She offered a single feather to the man. Turning away at a wave, she tossed a wink at Carolyn, who dropped her eyes to the floor, stifling a sob.
Juices trickled down her thighs, chilling as they went. The man beckoned her forward with a finger, and she stepped, awkward with her hands still between her legs.
"Spread your feet."
She stood there, waiting, as they all looked upon her. When the feather touched her, she flinched back, then forced herself to be still. It teased, tormented, circling around her nub, brushing across it only briefly before darting away. Her breath quickened, and sweat broke out on her body, nipples wrinkled tight, her fluids dampening her feet.
It stopped. She opened eyes she did not remember closing, mouth open wide. “Why?"
"How do you feel?"
"I … need."
"Is this what you were expecting, when you agreed to study here?"
The question took a moment to penetrate, as Carolyn's attention was mostly on her body. “I don't know what I expected. I needed something. A change. And I don't have any money, or any skills.” The quiet man chuckled, but said nothing. She continued, “I don't know much about sex or anything, but the woman said you'd teach me to enjoy. I want that, I want to know how to make myself come, and to do to other people what she did to me."
I want to feel. Anything. And if you don't start … playing … with me again soon, I am going to scream. Please! Please? It took all her strength not to speak. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she felt it strong beneath her fingers as she held herself open, praying for his attentions.
He was talking; she shook her head, and he smiled. Understanding crinkled his eyes, a warm expression like a grandfather would wear; she didn't feel at all familial. She wanted his hands, his mouth, his cock, that feather he still held and would not use!
He spoke again, a hint of scolding in his voice. “Do you understand that, if you are accepted, you will remain her for two years? No weekends, no vacations, no off-season. No time to visit friends. Your time is ours, for twenty-four full months. If we accept you, will you be able to handle that?"
Pay attention! Or do you want to be sent away? Her whole body clenched in fear. She cleared her throat. “Two years is fine; I wasn't doing anything, anyway.” Just … drifting.
"Do you understand that, while you are here, you are to follow orders?"
She nodded, silent, waiting.
"The Academy is not like the world outside. As a student, you would be required to follow all orders, regardless of how you may feel about them. Do you understand that? Do you understand even your body will not be your own? Are you agreeing to give yourself over to us?"
Carolyn swallowed. Can I do this? Really? A small breeze stirred the air. She felt it on every inch of her skin, like a kiss, like an answer. I'm standing here naked. I can do anything. She nodded.
"Then stand still.” The man's stern expression faded into fond approval, and the feather resumed its flicking, teasing torment. Dipping between her lips, darting away. She felt the air it stirred, heard the murmurs of the others, smelled lemon polish and cologne and scotch and her own sex. Her knees went weak; she tried to lock them, to keep herself steady while the man did as he willed.
Discipline, she thought, over and over, until the feather chased even that word from her mind. Panting, sweating, perfuming the air with her fluids, she shook and whispered her pleas to the room. She lost all sense of time, of dignity, of pride, and would gladly have spread her legs to one and all. But no matter how she tried, she could not find the edge to pleasure; the feather always pulled away.
A few times, her hands slipped toward her center; she caught herself before she quite touched her clit. Some part of her remembered what she had promised, and feared that if she disobeyed, she might still be sent away.
This feeling, this suspense, was far better than the emptiness she had lived with since the divorce-or before. She did her best to stay on her feet and still. The air around her warmed and moistened, until she felt like she had become a swamp.
She was tormented by that feather until the sheer intensity of the sensation drove her to her knees by the sensation, what seemed mere heartbeats from climax. She writhed on the floor, begging, sobbing, completely vulnerable, as the three took turns scraping the feather over her clitoris and surrounding flesh. Their skill was as impressive as their patience. They teased and tickled, poked and pressed, circled and stroked and traced-and pulled away, again and again, just when it seemed she had reached the point of no return. From time to time there were new instructions, poses to take, parts to offer up to that wonderful, horrible feather. She did as they commanded, blushing and biting her lip and trying not to beg.
She failed, but they didn't seem to mind.
When she was at long last dismissed from the room, she crawled toward the door, too drained and shaken even to attempt to stand. The motion of her legs sent her finally over the edge, so powerful an orgasm that she went blind and deaf for a moment.
That was her welcome to the Academy.
CHAPTER TWO
Carolyn's mind whirled. Too many things had happened in too short a time. Someone led her to a place she could recover; it might have been the driver, or the stranger, or an angel complete with wings. She must have seen the person, but took no note of identity, simply too tired to care. She hadn't slept much the night before, and that interview had taken every last bit of strength she had. Head down, she followed where she was led, and fell on a couch, and simply breathed.
She thought she would sleep, but instead, as she panted, she remembered. A night ago, a different life.
* * * *
She had emptied her bank account for one last bender. Enough bourbon to float a ship, and then she'd worry about what came next. The money hadn't gone as far as she'd hoped, but then a woman had taken the seat beside her, and offered to buy her a drink and lend an ear. “Tell me your tale of woe."
"'S nothing special,” Carolyn drawled. She wasn't drunk-or not enough. But it was nice to pretend, to spill out her sorrows as though her tongue had been lubricated by alcohol, and the woman had, after all, paid for the drink. “Happens every day. Make a fairy tale out of it, ‘xcept there's no happy endin’ for me. Once upon a time, a small-town girl got dumped. Her husband left her, and there she was, all on her own-some."