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She must learn to submit her body—her backside above all, but also her mouth, her breasts, her pussy, and whatever other part of her that her master decides to discipline. She must furnish them without hesitation or question, and she must receive what her master bestows in gratitude for the lesson he has meted out for the purpose of improving her in sexual service.
I had imagined the feeling over and over, of course, but I had never actually felt it: the leather tight around my waist, my wrists, and my ankles. My chest filled with panic as I squirmed and felt myself entirely restrained. To my dismay, though, the sensation of bondage sent need surging through the places down below my fluttering tummy. I swallowed hard as I felt the heat between my thighs, the arousal Master G had brought there so many times as he taught me about my shameful new life as the indentured bed girl of a wealthy man—the wealthy man who now stood behind me, surely holding something terrible that I couldn’t see.
That too—the idea of the tall, elegant blond man in the tuxedo holding a paddle… or a strap… or even a cane… it made me clench as hard as I had ever clenched under Master G’s gentle, knowing hand. Miss Charlotte had buckled the belt over my white nightgown, and its skirt still covered me, back there. The anticipation of Master Hendryk’s hand lifting the hem to uncover the most intimate, embarrassing parts of me… the places that from now on he would use exactly as he chose… made me bite my lip and make little kittenish whining noises with each breath I exhaled through my nostrils.
Breathe.I tried to do it the way Master G had taught me, in through my nose and out through my mouth.
I had never expected that the most important thing I would learn at bed girl school would be how to breathe. Very frequently during my training, though, Master G’s simple lessons in taking air in, holding it inside, and then letting it out had seemed to work miracles for both my body and my mind.
“Breathing mindfully creates little moments for self-acceptance,” he had told us, over and over, as we, his training group, sat kneeling before him on the mats with our names on them. “I want you to remember with each mindful breath that you would not be here if you did not belong here.”
I realized that I had been panting for the last minute or so—that I had actually come close to hyperventilating. I opened my mouth and let out a long breath that way, trying to empty my lungs. then I tried to take in the air I needed slowly through my nostrils, feeling them flare with the effort, fighting the flash of irrational panic that I wouldn’t get enough oxygen.
With my inhalation came a warmth in my chest, a wave of helpless affection for Master G. I loved him, because he had taken such care of me, even if the care had involved more shame and discomfort than I had ever imagined my body could feel—as well as more pleasure. I wasn’tinlove with him. I told myself that he simply scared me too much, though really I didn’t feel any fear of him now. The thought of leaving him, of leaving Miss Charlotte and the Institute itself, filled me with even more fear than the idea of his disappointment in me and its painful consequences.
As I took that breath, and found inside myself a tiny bit more clarity as to my thoughts and feelings, the world had seemed to slow around me. I remembered Master G talking about that, too: about how mindful breathing could help so much with panic, simply by making things happen at a pace easier for the mind to deal with. A way to hack your nervous system, he had called it.
To my surprise, Miss Charlotte said something that intersected oddly with that idea, of hacking your body’s systems.
“Mr. Vanderbruggen,” she continued, “is one of the first owners of an artificially intelligent concubine.”
I had just started to let out my first mindful breath, from my diaphragm, through my mouth. I stopped involuntarily and the exhaling action changed to a sharp inhaling one. I felt the alarm rise inside me, but for a moment I couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
An artificially intelligent concubine?For a strange instant I thought Miss Charlotte meantme—after all, Mr. Vanderbruggen had just purchased a bed girl for himself. How could I beartificially intelligent, though? Did it just mean I wasn’t very smart? I felt my face go red—I definitely wasn’t a genius or anything, but I’d done pretty well in school, after all.
The murmur that went through the audience at the dean’s words, though, seemed to mean something else. I honestly wouldn’t have expected these billionaires and trillionaires to murmur at anything at all: they seemed so well-heeled that the end of the world wouldn’t faze them—they’d just get in their escape pods or something and go off to another one, where they’d built their fifth vacation home or something.
“Selecta’s AI concubine,” Miss Charlotte continued, “is currently only being marketed by invitation, so of course Mr. Vanderbruggen had an advantage there.”
It wasn’t me. AI, like in the movies. My eyes went wide. Like, a sexbot?
Miss Charlotte and Master G had finished binding me to the horse. They stepped back and to the side, stage right, to allow the audience to watch as my new owner disciplined me.
“So,” the dean said, her voice conveying an air of finality that suggested Mr. Vanderbruggen had chosen his implement and stood ready to use it on me. “Renee will have another girl at home to help her please her master.”
I tried to take another mindful breath, but my body had other notions. Not meaning to in the slightest, I turned my face back over my left shoulder and saw him closer up than I had yet seen him—very much too close for comfort.
Yes, the man I must call Master Hendryk from now on was devastatingly handsome. His golden hair fell in loose curls around his square-jawed face. His blue eyes narrowed as he looked at me, and the smile that again curved his lips suggested that he knew how he frightened me, and liked knowing it.
My heart beat wildly, and mindful breaths became impossible, when I saw what he had in his right hand. A rattan cane, long and thin, its length resting on his left palm as he walked slowly closer.
Desperate, my brain tried to think through what Miss Charlotte had just said, as if it could offer me any help.
Another girl… but not arealgirl?The question echoed through my mind—did he whip the AI concubine, too? Surely she must obey him without question, no matter how degrading or uncomfortable the duty Master Hendryk demanded of her.
But I had seen it in his eyes before, and I saw it now as he took a position right behind me but far enough to my left that he could maintain eye contact: my new owner liked to punish girls. Would he whip her, even though shecouldn’tdisobey him? That thought sent a cold thrill of fear up my spine.
But why would he need me, if he had her? Couldn’t he get his fill of whipping girls’ bare bottoms with the help of a sexbot?
Of course not, my mind whispered, seeing the crazy logic even in my fear.He’s a wealthy man. He collects girls and he enjoys them as he pleases. He collected the AI girl, and he’s collected me, and he’ll undoubtedly punish us both whenever he feels like it.
“Hello, Renee,” Master Hendryk said, his tone calm and pleasant. “It’s nice to meet you. I’d say that I’m sorry I have to whip you before I fuck you for the first time, but I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression. I’m not sorry at all—as Candy, your new bed sister, would surely tell you.”
CHAPTER3
Renee
Candy… your new bed sister…
