Breaking Laura (Hollybourne School for Slaves)

BOOK: Breaking Laura (Hollybourne School for Slaves)
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Breaking Laura

A
Hollybourne School for Slaves Story

By J.A. Bailey

Copyright 2013 ©J. A.
Bailey

All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed
as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Breaking
Laura

Laura watched the taxi leave, the
long gravel drive crunching as it sped away. She shook her head. Back to school
at the age of twenty-eight. Who’d have thought it? She eyed the intimidating
building with its gothic architecture and huge windows. So this was Hollybourne
School.

Don’t forget the slaves part
.
Hollybourne School for Slaves
. She snorted. Under its guise of
respectability the grand mansion hid a world of sex and depravity. Her stomach
churned as she made her way up the stairs, small suitcase in hand. What had she
let herself in for? This had to be the most outrageous assignment she’d ever
done.

Before she could knock, the door
swung open and she stepped inside, stealing one last glimpse of the outside
world.

Blinking, Laura took in her
surroundings and the stern woman that stood in front of her.  Well lit and
surprisingly modern, the hall reeked of wealth and glamour. Muted shades of
gold and bronze mingled with blacks and creams. Two large, sensual sculptures
framed the grand staircase and the marble floor gleamed underfoot.

“Laura Montgomery?” The woman
peered at her, a good several inches taller.

Roughly middle-aged and
attractive, her thick black hair was pulled back into a chignon. Dark make-up
accentuated her brown eyes and full lips. Her tight black dress made Laura feel
underdressed in her jeans and fitted t-shirt.

The woman thrust out a hand and
Laura shook it, surprised by the grip.

“I’m Victoria Pembroke, the
headmistress here at Hollybourne,” she greeted in a clipped, efficient tone.

“Nice to meet you.”

Victoria flicked a look at the
clipboard in her hand. “We have all your paperwork and your medical test
results came back last week so all I need to do is show you around and then
I’ll take you to your room and introduce you to the other pupils.”

“Are there many others?” Laura
asked, clutching her suitcase to her chest.

Victoria motioned for her to put
it to one side and when she clicked her fingers, a butler came hurrying out of
a room and took the suitcase upstairs.

“Two other girls.”

“Oh, I thought there would be
more of us. Like a normal school, you know?”

A black eyebrow arched as
Victoria eyed her. “This is no normal school. We run a very intensive course
here and everything we do is customised for each and every sub. It requires
time and patience. We could hardly do what we do if we had a rowdy class of
girls to deal with. That, my dear, is why Hollybourne School is the best
training school in England, if not the world.”

Laura’s cheeks heated. “Of
course. No, I know it is. I didn’t mean to imply…” She clamped her mouth shut
as Victoria spun on her heels and led her through the house.

“This is the main reception room.
You may use this room to relax in the evening. You will have one day off a week
– Sunday – and you are very welcome to use any of the facilities here during
down time. We have a pool, tennis courts and a spa. You are also welcome to
leave the school on Sundays but NOT during the week, is that clear?”

“Of course. No worries.” Laura
resisted the urge to glare back as Victoria eyed her coolly. What a bitch.

While Laura was shown much of the
house, several of the rooms remained out of bounds, peaking her curiosity. From
the discrete brochures she’d been sent – ones that were only sent out after
they’d run a security check on her – she knew some of those rooms were for
training.

Victoria finally led her
upstairs, ushering her into a large room. The dorm. Laura gulped as the heads
of two other women snapped in her direction from their beds. Both sized her up
before offering her a smile.

The dark-haired woman’s grin
widened and she jumped up. “Hi! I’m Simone. So you’re the last of us, eh?”

Laura studied Simone, managing a
tight smile. Somewhere in her forties, Simone’s skin was a deep caramel shade,
matching her long, dark hair and chocolate eyes. Simone looped an arm around
her shoulder and Laura stiffened instinctively. She didn’t do physical contact
well.

Victoria nodded curtly. “Right.
You have an hour to unpack and get to know one another.  Be downstairs for
orientation at 6 p.m. Do not be late,” she warned.

Nodding hastily, Laura allowed
Simone to lead her over to the spare bed. Luxurious silk fabrics to match the
elegance of the room covered the double beds. The same shades had been used
here and the whole place had a sexy vibe.

“You’re Laura?” the other woman
said from the bed.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Charlotte.” She released a
small smile. Maybe she was nervous too. Laura’s heart still hammered at a rate
of knots.

Sneaking glimpses of Charlotte as
Laura unpacked, she concluded she was closer to her own age. Charlotte had a
bookish appearance to her but was quite stunning with curling auburn hair and a
willowy figure. A stab of guilt pierced through her. These poor women didn’t
deserve to be lied to.

Simone threw herself on her bed
and observed as she finished unpacking. “What do you make of Victoria then?
Think she’ll be a bitch?”

Charlotte barely smothered a
giggle as Laura nodded. “Oh yeah, definitely. She has bitch written all over
her.”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t
know. She’s pretty intimidating, but I suppose it’s her job…to keep us in
line.”

“It’ll take more than a bitch to
keep me in line,” Simone exclaimed. “That’s why I’m here though. Hopefully I’ll
find someone who can.” The woman’s dark eyes roved over Charlotte. “So why are
you here?”

“My boyfriend sent me here.”
Charlotte’s cheeks heated as she noted the arch of Simone’s eyebrow. “He wants to
be my Master,” she added quietly, “and I want to be his slave. I can’t wait…”
She sighed.

“Lucky cow,” Simone muttered with
a chuckle. “What about you, Laura? You’ve not said much yet.”

Laura shifted on her bed. “I
don’t have a boyfriend,” she said hastily. “I just wanted to…to give it a try,
you know?”

“Haven’t you subbed before?”
Charlotte asked with a gasp.

Laura sniffed. “A little
spanking. I’m not scared.”

“I am,” Charlotte admitted. “If I
don’t graduate, I’ll never be the perfect slave.”

“Perfectionist, huh?” Simone
injected.

“Maybe.”

Quickly wiping the astonished
expression from her face, Laura set about unpacking. The perfect slave? Why the
hell would someone want to be a sex slave? Seriously, what the fuck had she got
herself into?

***

Orientation took place in one of
the reception rooms. They filed in and sat on the three chairs, lined up and
facing one wall. Laura finally felt as if she was in school again when Victoria
cast her cool gaze over them and stood confidently at the front. A man
followed, his large stature catching Laura’s eye.

Dressed in an expensive suit, his
arms stretched the fabric to its limit. Easily over six feet tall, his
shoulders were wider than any other man she’d seen. His tousled brown hair and
stubbled chin along with his glower made Laura nervous. Deep brown eyes locked
on to hers and she gulped, wings of trepidation beating in her stomach.

“Right, ladies,” Victoria said
sharply. “From this point onwards you are to address me as only Ms. Pembroke or
‘Mistress’. This is the deputy head, Mr Hunter. Address him only as ‘Sir.’” Her
brows rose as if daring them to argue. “This course in submission will test you
mentally and physically. We are experts at what we do and you will find
yourself pushed. We have one main rule here – if you safe-word, you fail. You
each chose your safe-words and they are noted in your documentation. Every
teacher here is aware of them but I promise you will never need them. Use your
safe-word and there will be no graduation.”

Laura gulped and gripped on to
the arm of her chair. She needed to graduate. She needed to see this through.
If she didn’t she’d be out of a job. Problem was, a bloody sex school was
completely the wrong place for someone like her. She sneaked a glance at Mr
Hunter and shuddered as his gaze lingered on her.

Hunter.

That sounded about right.

Ms. Pembroke continued, “Lessons
will consist of individual and group classes. You will have a mentor assigned
to each of you but you will also spend time with each teacher. While we
encourage you to bond with your mentor, we do not allow relationships between
staff and pupils. Once in class, you do not speak unless instructed and
disobedience will be disciplined.”

A thrill trickled down Laura’s
spine and her cunt pulsed. It must have been the sexy atmosphere or something
as she sure as hell didn’t like the idea of being punished. All that spanking
and stuff… no way, not for her. She squirmed, feeling the dampness in her
knickers. Why her pussy thought otherwise, she didn’t know.

“Your uniforms are waiting for
you in the dorm. You are to wear them between the hours of 9am and 9pm. Dinner
will be served in the dining hall in a moment and I expect you to be washed and
ready for your first class in an hour. You will also visit the spa every
morning for an enema. This is not a request,” Ms. Pembroke added, “but a
requirement.”

Sneaking a sideways glance at the
two other women, Laura expected to see the same anguished expression. Simone,
however, looked as eager as Charlotte to begin. Her eyes were wide, her lips
parted with excitement and she wriggled in her chair.

“Your lessons will begin tonight.
We will form every part of you, mentally and physically into the perfect sub.
Etiquette, discipline, orgasm control will all be covered. Before we start, do
you have any questions? Once you start your first class, I will assume that you
are happy to continue and this is your last chance to speak freely.”

Laura shook her head as Ms.
Pembroke eyed them closely.

“When do we meet our mentors?”
Simone asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“And what if we don’t like them?”

“You will,” Ms. Pembroke answered
curtly. “Our teachers are highly trained, highly experienced Doms. They have
been chosen according to your psychological evaluation. And, quite frankly, you
will have no choice but to like them.”

Simone sniggered. “Well that told
me.”

“Simone, while you may speak
freely now, I suggest you try and behave as a sub should. Then you may not find
it so difficult to hold your tongue during class.”

“Yes, Ms. Pembroke,” she muttered.

“Right, anything else? No. Eat
and be in west wing reception room at 8pm sharp.”

“Yes, Ms. Pembroke,” they
chorused as Mr Hunter cast his severe gaze over them.

Laura gulped. She hoped he didn’t
do any mentoring. He scared the hell out of her.

***

Simone whirled into the room,
smoothing her hands over her uniform. “Well, ladies, what do you think?”

Laura studied her with a heavy
swallow. Simone’s big breasts filled the soft black lace bra perfectly and a
strip of lace dipped below her short black skirt. Laura knew that the strip
would follow the line of Simone’s pussy, before splitting over her lips and up
her arse.

“You look amazing,” Charlotte
breathed. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to carry it off as well as you do.”

Laura snorted as she wiggled into
hers. “I don’t know if I can get used to being half naked in front of a load of
strange men.” Nudity didn’t bother her particularly, but in front of men she
didn’t know…or…or Hunter. Christ, what a thought.

BOOK: Breaking Laura (Hollybourne School for Slaves)
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

John Wayne by Aissa Wayne, Steve Delsohn
Slant by Greg Bear
The God of the Hive by Laurie R. King
Superstition by David Ambrose
In Defense of Flogging by Peter Moskos
Long Memory by Christa Maurice
Submarino by Lothar-Günther Buchheim
Diary of an Ugly Duckling by Langhorne, Karyn
Cold Light by Frank Moorhouse