0 comments/ 50357 views/ 6 favorites The Academy Ch. 1 By: Sateema Lunasi Chapter 1: ...And Introducing Lily Welcome to The Academy. We have never called it anything else. We have never known it as anything else. We have been here since 1792, an age when decadence and the idea of a libertine was not so unheard of. We have thrived here for ages and have made little secret of it, though most still think of us as a “secret society” full of mystery and sin. Reporters do not get past our walls. No cameras are allowed. We do not record anything that goes on here. This is not secrecy. This is privacy. We have, as of today, 2,824 paying members on our roster. We have another 6,807 people who own basic membership which entitles them to our newsletters and our social events, though it does not give them access to the Academy itself. We have a staff of 15 and a student number of 32. We have branched out to other countries and smaller houses. We now have schools in Amsterdam, Berlin, The British Virgin Islands, Los Angeles and Boston. Still, here in England, we are the beginning of it all. Our house is the largest, most of the others holding only 10 students and three to five staff members. We get letters, portfolios and resumes from thousands of potential students each year who beg us to take them as students. 97% of them are refused. To be a student here is to be a student of the finest training academy in the world for our trade. To put it nonchalantly, we train sensual slaves. Everyone is willing here, everyone cared for, but the work is difficult, physically and mentally . A proper slave is willing to please his or her master or mistress in any way they can. A good slave is beautiful, talented, intelligent and sensual. A real slave feels that there is no other kind of life that is better. This is happiness in the fullest to them. I am 1st Trainer here. That means that aside from those who own The Academy, who are rarely seen, I am in charge of most things here. If a decision is to be made, it passes me before it is allowed. I came by this early in life. I was seventeen and I begged to be allowed to work here. Alas, I was not accepted until I turned eighteen. I am 23 now, young in most people’s eyes, but seen as a capable and often fierce authority figure here. I train the slaves well, and I nourish their minds and souls. I have seen some of the most beautiful people in the world filter through these doors, bodies from Heaven, and I have seen them go on to work in the houses of fine aristocrats and even royalty. I have decorated this place from head to toe, redesigning the interior and the sculpting the gardens. Our facility is perhaps as special as the people we train. In 1792, this place was purchased for the Academy to act as its headquarters. It has served this purpose since. The building is a beautiful chalet style stone manor house set on 42 acres of grounds. Lush subtropical gardens surround a private lake and several small stone cottages on the property. Two years ago, I hired landscapers to redesign the garden with a fully-grown implanted quarter of an acre hedge maze. The Academy is my pride and joy and I keep only the finest things inside and out of it. What kind of a person is a trainer at a BDSM academy? Shall I introduce myself then? I am not much different than you. I want the same things as you. I dream the same dreams of life. I would not call myself beautiful, though others have called me so. I have dark auburn red hair that flows prettily down my back. My skin is pale and lightly freckled. My face still has the unmistakable mark of youth in puffy cheeks and bright wide eyes. My eyes are perhaps my most striking features, as they are very brilliant emerald green. I am very small in stature, too small, in fact. I stand four feet and ten inches tall and am slender but curvy. My appearance possesses a sort of half woman half child appeal, which seems to get a few compliments. I went to school in Ireland, my homeland, and traveled as a child. My father was in the military. My mother a shy piano teacher. I have a twin sister who attended convent school and became a nun. I was always the same as everyone else...and still very different. I teach willing students to be the greatest lovers, to be subservient and to pleasure always. I entertain guests at this mansion with games and playfulness of an erotic nature among those in my charge. I am everything to everyone here. Those who are fortunate enough to afford entrance to our rooms can have any pleasure they wish. Anything they desire. When the students finish their training, they go to auction and are bid upon by the beautiful, the famous, the fantastically wealthy. I choose most of my students from amateur auctions. THE AUCTION AT ST. TROPEZ St. Tropez in the French Rivera has been my favorite place to find good students. The auction there which is held bi-annually by a wealthy German couple gives me a chance to find beautiful slaves who have been somewhat trained already by their spouses or in a private house. The Academy is always given VIP access to the auction. Strolling through the scenery of the outdoors-garden venue, I cautiously looked over the selections of around fifty slaves, carefully chosen from fine upbringing and aesthetic beauty. In the garden, they stood gracefully, posed almost like statues among the roses and orchids that bloomed brightly throughout the lush greenery . Holding the extensive catalog with descriptions and information on each slave, I approached a beautiful well-muscled male slave with dark blond hair. “Your name is Andrew?” I asked. He hesitated in answering. He was not sure if he was allowed to speak. I took the slender black riding crop tucked beneath my arm and I swatted him sharply on the naked backside with it. He flinched and answered. “Yes Mademoiselle. My name is Andrew.” “You are from Australia, it says.” “Yes Mademoiselle. I am from Melbourne Australia.” “Your age?” “26, Mademoiselle.” “Have you been trained at all?” “Only a little, Mademoiselle, by Mistress Marianne Daly. I have good references.” I looked over the information on the clipboard. His height, his weight, his education, his health records, his history, nationality, his talents, his references, his cock size... “It says here your cock size is 8 inches.” “Yes, Mademoiselle. It was measured yesterday by Madame Blechardt herself.” “Make it hard then. I would like to see.” I ordered and sat down on the marble bench nearby to casually wait for him to do as I asked. He blushed but he obeyed and I gave him some extra points for courage. He took his large hand over his cock and stroked it into hardness, pumping it faster until it was at full attention. It was now swollen pink and hard as a rock. I was impressed with the thickness of it, and with his willingness to please. Just then, Gabriel Spencer, a fellow trainer at the Academy saw us and I invited him to give his opinion on this slave. Gabriel seemed impressed and Gabriel is definitely the best trainer in the Academy, in any of our houses. I may be in charge, but he is by far the best. I watched with undeniable lust as Gabriel, a man twenty years my senior and perhaps the most sinisterly beautiful man on Earth, as he slowly examined Andrew, tracing lines with those exquisitely sculpted hands down Andrew’s spine. Andrew came to life under his touch. Good, he liked men as much as he liked women. That was always better. I saw Gabriel pinch the flesh of the slave’s tight buttocks, saw him take the man’s engorged cock in his hand and squeeze it lightly, forming a little pearl of milky clear fluid at the pink tip. “He responds quite well, but can he take punishment?” Gabriel asked. I took cue and once again assumed the roll of an innocent baby faced ice queen in Vercace clothes. Gabriel quickly bent the man over and I swatted his backside with my riding crop. Then again with my gloved hand feeling the heat even through the kidskin leather. I liked Andrew. He would make a good slave, but there was another I was interested in as well. A pretty black female slave standing close by, being obedient and statuesque. I had inspected her earlier, and now an idea came to mind. I sent Gabriel to discuss purchasing these two slaves for The Academy with the German couple. Gabriel was a fine negotiator. I instructed the female slave, Deya, to demonstrate her talents on Andrew. I wanted to see what both could do. Deya nodded and silently obeyed. Good, she had been voice trained. She set her skills upon Andrew and he was rather overwhelmed by her talents. She was much better trained than he was. Her mouth worked wonders over his taut flesh, the twitching muscles of his back, his chest, and his stomach. And her mouth moved to the apex of his thighs and I turned to see Gabriel returning with ownership papers in hand and a twinkle in his eye for me. I was wildly turned on and he could see it. Gabriel knew me too well. He sat beside me, his Cashmere sweater brushing against my arm, and I looked over the papers briefly as the two slaves performed for us, the pretty black woman, Deya’s head bobbing forward and back as she took Andrew’s length into her mouth. “The purchase is finished?” “It is complete.” He answered. “And are you happy with the choice, Gabriel?” I asked, pressing closer to him. “More than satisfied...with them.” “With them? Are you not satisfied with something else?” “Hmmm, with you. I want you Lily.” It was said in that magnetic low growl of his that only surfaced when he was very turned on. I felt his arms embrace me, felt the pressure of him, the intoxicating scent of him, the power in his arms, and I let myself fall into him. Let him kiss me, my hands, my face, my eyelids, my breasts. And while Andrew and Deya had confused looks on their faces but did not dare to stop, I felt Gabriel lift me up easily in his arms and carry me to a more secluded part of the garden. He made love to me for hours as was his usual custom, and this time it was as explosive and wonderful and different than the last and the time before that and the time before that. Waves of pleasure washed over me and when we finished, he carried me naked to the fountain and washed my skin slowly as if I was a pleasure slave, though his touch only made me want him again. He dressed me, buttoning each button of my satin blouse carefully, pulling the slim skirt up around my hips, nipping at my skin with tiny kisses and playful bites as he did so. As he walked me back to the slave quarters of the garden, he asked me, “Have you ever thought of taking your own slave. A permanent one?” “I am a bit more of a submissive actually.” “That, I never would have guessed of you, my darling Lily.” “Let’s take our new slaves home and put them at ease, and perhaps tonight I will demonstrate for you.” “You tease me, Lily.” “Only a little.” To Be Continued... The Academy Ch. 2 Chapter 2: It Cannot Be Personal It cannot be personal. I try not to let it be personal, but sometimes there is that one person who makes it personal and there is nothing in Hell, Heaven or Earth that can stop it. For me, everything here is business, a well oiled machine that functions with my supervision. I take pride in it and I do care for my students, my slaves and the trainers. However, I fall easily. All it took was one look from him, one touch and I was his, always his. I belonged to Gabriel. I would never have taken Gabriel as a trainer. He is older than the others. He is different. He is unconventional. With him, there is never a thought of disobeying, never a hint of disrespect from a student. It is not that his slaves are perfectly trained. It is that they adore him. They worship him. They will do anything to make him smile. It was Julian, the blue eyed French trainer, who hired Gabriel as a trainer at The Academy. I scoffed at the choice before meeting Gabriel. I* saw his references. He had very few. He had no professional photos, no resume, no connections. He was nothing to me. I trusted Julian though and I agreed to let him stay on a trial basis. If I did not like him in 6 weeks, I would fire him on the spot. I had been inspecting new equipment with a supplier from New York City when I first met Gabriel. It had been a week after his arrival and I had been so busy, I had not been able to meet him. The supplier, Gray, one of the best leather and bondage equipment custom specialists from the Americas, was demonstrating to me how a new swing would be used in the garden. He was fixing the brass fixtures to a metal casing embedded in a tree trunk and snapping the leather bindings closed. Two of my new students were here to help demonstrate, Kayla and Ryan. The two were strapped into the harness of the equipment and Gray instructed them on how to use it properly. I was not sure I liked this piece. It made their bodies seem contorted, not graceful the way I liked them. Kayla had been a ballerina. It was a shame to take away her graceful lines. I stood in the honeysuckle filled grove with my arms akimbo, an eyebrow raised and checking my watch for the time to indicate my hurry, and then I saw him. Gabriel. He simply strolled along in the garden grove, the courtyard fountain of Venus rising from the foam seeming like chittle behind him. He had a slave with him. Serena, luscious girl with large and beautiful breasts. He followed her closely behind, casually. He was teaching her to walk gracefully, a trait I always admired in a slave. It was not the student I was captivated with. It was no one but Gabriel. This man has a presence like a gentle king. He is an Irishman, from my homeland, only he is from the East and I am from the West. His stature is commanding, perhaps six feet and two inches tall, his frame athletic and tapered, his hair thick and as dark as black ink. His face is tinted by the sun, the fine lines at the corners of his mouth the only sign of his age. I could look at nothing but him. The sunlight shone on the dark hairs at his wrists and the hair glistened like silk, the masculinity of him amazing. He looked up then and I saw his eyes. I felt a shiver in me, the deep and ocean blue of his eyes like pools I could drown in. He fixed those blue eyes on me a long moment and smiled wickedly at me. I watched silently and my world fell apart as he walked away. For hours, days, weeks, I thought of nothing but Gabriel. He consumed my thoughts, my actions, my body and my soul. The worst part was, I had no idea why. How could a man make me feel that way? He had simply looked at me. I was not a blushing girl. Why was this happening to me? I could not eat, I could not sleep. My attention to the students and the trainers was only a fraction of what it should be. I sequestered myself in my rooms for three days and told myself I would forget about these silly thoughts I was having about this man. I could think only of giving myself to him, being subservient to him, hearing his voice command me...and I had no voice to match with his face. On that third day in my room, I woke to a strange sensation. Dreams of Gabriel filled my mind and I woke touching myself. I sat up in my bed and felt the heat on my skin. I stood up slowly, my lace trimmed nightgown feeling like a casket surrounding me, and swallowing my pride, I made my way slowly down the hallway, down the stairs and to Gabriel's room. His door was open, as if he had been waiting for me. I saw the light of the candle in his room, an orange glow that he read a book by. He sat up in bed, his body amazing by the candle light. The light worshipped him. “Miss Lily...” he said, “Are you not well?" "Not well without you. I am making a confession, Gabriel. I need you...I don’t know why or how...or..." "You need me..." "Yes....I will do as you say...anything...to be yours, if only just for tonight.” I saw that smile again, almost cruel, as if he had cast a spell on me to come to him. He rose from his bed, the white satin sheets slipping off his frame and revealing his lean body, a bronzed chest scattered with dark wiry hairs, his thighs muscular and perfectly sculpted. I felt a flush heat my face. He came to me slowly and looked me over, my eyes, my throat, my breasts, the bit of exposed skin at my midriff beneath the scalloped lace. I felt my nipples harden and I knew his eyes were on me, watching me. I closed my eyes and felt his heat against me, his hands on my shoulders and the pressure there. He was pushing me down, to my knees. Defeated, my knees touched the hardwood floor and I felt his hand on my hair. I kissed his thighs, the muscles twitching there and I felt his cock come to life, hardening beneath my touch. “That’s it, my sweet angel...take it in your mouth. Show me you are a good girl...” he said to me. I obeyed without hesitation and took his organ in my mouth. His salty, velvet taste was wonderful and I drew him in. For the first time in my life, I begged a man, gave myself completely, wanted to belong to him. I might hate him for it in the morning, but now he was my master. He had had enough of my moth pleasuring him and he wanted to taste my breasts. The lace of my gown tore beneath his hands, my breasts were free and he devoured me. His mouth sucked and pulled at me, almost painfully and I moaned at the pleasure and pain of it. “Be my slave, Lily...” he said breathlessly, “Be mine and serve me by night, and no one will know what I have made of you.” I think I screamed it, or maybe I whispered it...it sounded to me like a scream. “Yes.” He tossed me onto my stomach like a rag doll, and he took me with no hesitation, clinching to my hair and riding me to a fevered sweat. This was ritual now. This was a ceremony. He was claiming me, making me his, and I submitted to him with all my soul. “I will hate you tommorow for this...I will punish you and make your life here hell.” I warned as he thrust into me. “Make my life Hell by day, Miss lily, but I will be your Hell by night.” I had never heard more passionate words. To me, it sounded like warm honey. Gabriel has been my weakness, my prison, and my joy. Still, I cannot refuse him, cannot deny him any pleasure. By day, I am the Mistress of this place, yet, by night, I kneel to him and obey his every command. I cannot imagine it any other way. My Gabriel...my angel. The Academy Ch. 3 Chapter 3: Safari In all my time at The Academy, I have taken only one personal slave. I never meant to. If I could have it my way, I would never have something so personal, something so indulgent. But this was different. It struck me. The beauty of it, and the exotic nature of it. I always told myself this was a business, that it cannot be personal, and there I go, breaking the rules again. It became obvious, I needed a vacation. I needed downtime. Daniel, one of my trainers, mentioned it to me one day after seeing me enter the guests’ lounge dressed in flannel pajamas. For me, a woman who makes her image by Vercace, DKNY, Vera Wang, and Chanel, flannel pajamas and uncombed hair in a scrunchie are not the norm. Daniel was right. I needed downtime. I called a meeting with the trainers and put Gabriel in charge in my absence. Arianna, my secretary and one of the former slaves in The Academy would accompany me on my vacation. She needed some time off as well. Now, where to go? I called the man who owns The Academy; I will call him Michael, to arrange for me to have some time off. In the years that I have worked at The Academy, I have taken one other vacation, and that was a weekend leave and I never left London. Michael is first class though, and when the trainers need downtime, he provides for them, always lavishly. “Michael?” “Yes? Lily dear, how are you darling?” “Oh, everything is okay...” “Lily...” his voice was dead pan. “If everything was okay, you wouldn’t be on the phone with me.” “You’re right. You’re always right. Um...I don’t know how to ask this...I.... okay...I need some time off. I think I need some time off badly.” “Are you okay, Lily?” “Yeah, just tired. I am working so much, every day, no breaks and I just...I am getting migraine headaches, too much stress. I look like hell. I need out of here for a while.” “All you have to do is ask, love. I can give you three weeks vacation; anywhere you want, dear. I will need you here in London for the auction on the 28th though.” “Oh, perfect, really, thank you.” Michael is Santa Claus. He is really too generous. He called Arianna and insisted we have full usage of the private jet, access to an expense account that he also insisted we spend every penny of, and first class arrangements made wherever we choose to go. A specialist drove up from Gatwick to go over options with Arianna and I. We looked over books and brochures of luxury cruises in Europe and the Mediterranean, beauty spas in Paris and St. Tropez, sailing in the Greek Isles, resorts in the tropics and retreats in the Swiss Alps. I wanted something adventurous. I am not the resting kind of person, even when I am tired. I needed something that would take me far from The Academy, far away from the lifestyle. Something caught my eye.... Africa. It sounded wonderful to me, to be among nature and the true beauty of life. I made arrangements for a safari in Africa. Michael arranged for Arianna and I to have use of his private jet for the trip, and to stay at the private lodge that one of the investors own. Three weeks later, Arianna and I found ourselves on a private jet, flying over the plains of Africa. We touched down in Nairobi, Kenya. Our guide, a lanky misplaced American named Sammy, introduced us to the servants who would be along for the trip. Once finished, we were shown to the lodge and introduced to the two other guests staying there in private rooms. A sweet Austrian couple met us as we walked in. Greta and Franz instantly went into telling me about their visits to the Academy and how they adored the place. “Actually...” Greta said slowly, as if she had just thought of something. “My slave, a very sweet girl named Claudia, she has had problems learning.” “Problems...with training?” I asked, genuinely interested. “Yes. She is a good girl but has trouble learning grace, to learn obedience, to learn to service. I have an idea to maybe help her...but it involves you, Miss Lily.” I sat Greta down on the sofa and listened to her tell me the problems with her slave. It sounded like a challenge, a good challenge. I could do it. I could train this girl properly in six weeks time to have her ready for an anniversary party the couple was having. I thought it over as Greta ordered her servant to pour champagne for her guests. Arianna sat quietly as quite possibly the most beautiful man I have ever seen brought obediently a bottle of Cristal champagne to fill our glasses. He was very tall, very muscular and dark black skinned. His dark skin covered with tribal inking and his clothing was nothing more than a loincloth. I could do nothing but stare at him, breathless as he moved gracefully across the room. His eyes were exotically slanted and his cheekbones high and perfectly set. I saw Greta smile as I looked him over. “That is Taj. He is one of our slaves, and a fine one too, but to be honest, we prefer to keep only female slaves. Do you like him?” “He is perfect.” “Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement. Will you train our sweet Claudia in exchange for Taj? You may keep him as yours, of course.” I agreed, without hesitation. I met Claudia the next evening. I set about training her immediately. She was pretty, intelligent and willful to learn, but nothing took my mind away from Taj. I focused on Claudia, making her perfect. I taught her to walk gracefully, to speak melodically, to serve sensuously, and to always be a Goddess. Three weeks later, I left for London, with Claudia and Arianna. We would finish out the training at the Academy with Claudia. Another three weeks to go. Claudia made drastic improvement, and became a satisfying slave. When it came time to send her home to Vienna, I almost cried. She was my student now. But, I watched as she stepped aboard the plane sent for her. She kissed me goodbye, soft and sweet tongue mingling with mine. I saw her look at me from the window. She was gone then. A week later, a letter arrived from Vienna. My Dearest Miss Lily, Claudia is all the better from her time with you and her training at the Academy. Our party was a sensational one and Claudia was a vision of beauty and perfection. We have you to thank and will hold you in our graces. I have sent Taj, as was our agreement and I hope you enjoy him. You will find him a beautiful and well-trained servant as well as a fantastic personal slave. We thank you dearly, Greta & Franz I smiled reading through the letter and minutes later, when Arianna announced that Taj was here, I raced to the parlor to see him. He took my breath away. As I entered the room, he slipped the simple black silk robe he wore off his powerful shoulders and stood in naked beauty before me. I gasped at the sight of him. He had been prepared for me. My Austrian benefactors had sent him glittering with garnet jewels and gold decorations. Piercing in his navel, his nipples, his lips and patterns on his skin from gold and garnet jewels glittered and made an exotic piece of human art. His thighs were marked with black ink patterns and the dark thatch of wiry hair at the apex of his thighs glistened with gold dust. His cock stood rock hard from the curling hair and I marveled at its size. “Are you my mistress?” his deep, resonant voice asked. “Yes, that I am.” “How may I serve?” “Undress me.” He obeyed me well. His large hands moved over my breasts and hips, removing the thin cotton dress I wore and then removing the panties and bra. I felt the cock against my belly grow harder and larger when I had not thought that possible. Then, to my ultimate shock, he did not wait for permission. He did not wait for orders. He lifted me up in his arms and he brought me down onto him, my legs apart and wrapped around his hips. His mouth on my nipples, his hands clinching my hips, and he devoured me. He caressed between my thighs until he was satisfied with the wetness there and he then pushed me down on him, impaling me with that immense cock until I screamed out, though I am not sure from pleasure or pain. He brought me down and then back up again, over and over until waves of pleasure crashed over me. With more abandon than I have ever felt, I rode him violently, clawing at him and pumping against him. The size of him was splitting me apart. The waves crashed and I soon felt as though I would faint. He caught me in his arms and carried me to the sofa, my body shaking as he did so. He laid me back and I felt large, strong hands open my legs. I closed my eyes. His wet, warm tongue touched between my legs and he gently lapped at the wetness there, opening it with his fingers. I fell into his gentleness, his roughness, and his silky tongue. I closed my eyes and drifted. I thought of my new slave and his exotic beauty. I thought of how much pleasure he would bring. I thought of how he had taken me without permission. And I thought of how much delicious fun his punishment would be. I smiled and a gentle, deep, satisfying sleep overtook me. And I thought of how I was glad to be home.