Brie Learns the Art of Submission: Submissive Training Center (3 page)

Dear Miss Bennett,

We are happy to inform you that you’ve
qualified for a full scholarship to the Submissive Training Center.
Your entry was among the finest received by the school to date. We
firmly believe the opportunity provided by our school will benefit
you, now and in the future.

As stated when you first contacted us, you
will begin the course immediately. Class starts tomorrow at 7:00
PM. You must be prompt and ready to learn. A school uniform has
been provided.

Understand that this six-week course is a
rigorous undertaking. We will expect much from you but promise
expert training in return.

Sincerely,

Thane Davis

The letter had the most exquisite
handwriting. Brie couldn’t believe a man had penned it and wondered
if Thane Davis was the gentleman she’d met at the tobacco shop.

She lifted the tissue paper away, expecting
something similar to a high school uniform; instead, she found a
miniskirt and leather top with laces up the front like a
corset—both were dark brown. Also included was a pair of six-inch
heels, some crotchless pantyhose with sexy seams up the back, and a
red thong. The next item she pulled out was a tailored black
trenchcoat. At the bottom of the box was an elaborate makeup kit
with instructions to emphasize her eyes and lips. The instructions
also noted that she was to wear her hair down.

Brie was ecstatic about trying the uniform
on. She didn’t really own sexy clothes. She was a filmmaker at
heart, so a loose-fitting, not-too-flashy ensemble was the norm. As
she slipped on the skirt and zipped it up, she finally understood
why they had asked for body measurements in the paperwork. Each
piece of clothing fit perfectly.

It took a bit of adjusting to get the seam
of her hose to go up her leg in a straight line. She strapped on
the heels and almost toppled over when she stood up. Dang, the
heels were hell to walk in. She stood in front of the mirror and
looked herself over. The skirt was almost scandalous and the top
accentuated the round fullness of her breasts. Those difficult
heels did a real number on her legs, making her calves look shapely
and elegant. The seam of the hose created a sensual trail for the
eyes to follow. Everything about the outfit made her feel like a
woman—a hot, sexy woman!

She undid her ponytail and tossed her hair
back and forth. Brie looked into the mirror again and saw an
entirely different person looking back. This woman was alluring,
more confident and ready to please. She wondered what would happen
if she walked out of her apartment dressed like this. Brie giggled,
realizing the necessity of the coat. She reluctantly took off her
uniform and laid it over a chair to keep it wrinkle free for her
first day of class.

****

Getting through another tedious day at work
was the ultimate torture. Brie was both excited and nervous about
the upcoming session. Not knowing what the school was like or what
would be expected of her was daunting. She was also wondering about
the other students. Would they be friendly and helpful, or
backstabbing bitches?

She asked to leave a half-hour early. Mr.
Reynolds, being the sweetie that he was, let her go and took the
last part of her shift. Brie wanted time to get her clothes on and
her makeup just right. Even though she had printed directions to
the school, she left early to leave extra time in case she got
lost. Being prompt was important to her.

It took twenty minutes to arrive at the
campus. The Training Center looked like any other community
college. The parking lot was full of cars with normal-looking
college students milling just outside the large brick building.
Nothing about the older building hinted as to what was happening
inside. Brie got out of her car and tightened the belt of her coat
around her waist. She stumbled a couple of times as she made her
way to the entrance.
God, I hate high heels!

A young man opened the door as she
approached.
Now,
that is a pleasant change.
She
smiled at him and nodded in appreciation. Inside, she saw an
information desk and headed directly to it. The woman at the desk
smiled and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Where do I go for the…Training Center?”
Brie was embarrassed to say the full name in public.

“It’s one floor down. Just take the elevator
to your right.”

“Thanks.” She was about to leave, but turned
around and asked, “What kind of school is on this floor?”

The receptionist smiled brightly. “It’s a
business college. Are you interested in applying to it as
well?”

Brie shook her head. “No, just curious.
Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime. Enjoy your first day.”

Brie sighed nervously. This was it—there was
no turning back. She hit the button on the elevator and watched the
doors slowly close. She was curious about what the Training Center
would look like. Would it be one giant room with many beds and
tools of the trade hanging on the walls, or would it have small,
individual rooms with beds and curtains for privacy? Brie held her
breath as the doors opened, and then laughed out loud.
The elevator opened to a large commons area. It was lined by
normal-looking classrooms with desks and large whiteboards.
Brie shook her head. Definitely
not
what she had been
expecting.

She stepped out of the elevator and looked
around. A tall woman in a harsh business suit came up to her and
demanded, “What class are you taking?”

Brie got out her schedule and looked for her
first class so she could answer. “It’s called Submission 101.”

The woman pointed. “Go
down that hall. It’s the last door on the left.
Hurry, you
don’t want to be late.”

Brie quickly made her way down the hall,
which was a mistake on her part. Her ankle rolled and she found
herself on the floor. She picked herself up and continued on, not
daring to look back at the woman.
Damn, I hate these
shoes!

She walked into the classroom and saw that
there were five other women already seated. The instructor, a tiny
man wearing a nametag that said ‘Mr. Gallant’, indicated where she
should sit. She made her way to the desk and sat down, breathing a
sigh of relief. At least she’d made it to class on time.

“Miss Bennett, since you are the last to
arrive I see no reason to wait until the bell rings. Let’s begin.
We have a lot to get through tonight.” Her instructor had silver
highlights in his hair and a wiry frame. Although the man was
small, he had a commanding voice and demeanor. The two-hour class
was devoted to defining and classifying who and what submissives
were.

In a short period of time, Brie learned the
difference between submissives and slaves. “Understand that a
submissive
volunteers
and is allowed to voice preferences
and set personal limits. Slaves give up those rights.” Brie knew
right then that she would never be a slave. The whole idea set her
on edge.

“There are various levels of submission, but
we will only talk about the major three. Light submissives give of
themselves for short durations, setting many boundaries around what
they will and won’t do. Even though they submit to their Dominants,
they still maintain a high level of control. Moderate submissives
put fewer limitations on their Dominants and are interested in
living the D/s lifestyle for longer periods of time. They offer the
Doms a more significant level of control. You should note that most
submissives fall under this category. Then there are those few who
are heavily submissive. Such submissives desire one full-time
Master and set
very
few limitations on the Dominant. It is
similar to acting as a slave, but the submissive still has
control—he or she just chooses not to use it.”

Brie wrote down everything he said. Although
she’d read similar information on the web, he defined things in a
way that was easier to understand.

“Miss Bennett, have you ever heard of the
term ‘subspace’?” Mr. Gallant asked.

Brie looked around, wishing he had called on
someone else. “Sorry, no.”

“That’s fine,” the tiny man answered. “This
is an introduction course. In fact, if we go over any information
you have questions about, be sure to stop and ask. You cannot
offend me with what you do not know.”

Brie nodded in gratitude. She really liked
him as an instructor. Mr. Gallant’s voice commanded her attention
and he seemed to care about his students. A silly thought flitted
through her head:
What if he is a Dominant in real life?
She
wondered what it would be like to have him as a partner. Brie
actually blushed and had to refocus on his lesson.

“The term ‘subspace’ refers to a trancelike
state experienced by many submissives. Certain types of ‘play’ can
help pump endorphins into the bloodstream, making the submissive
open to more intensive stimulation. While in that state, the sub
must rely on the Dominant’s vigilance because of the higher pain
tolerance. In fact, the sub may become incapable of verbal
communication while floating in subspace, making him or her
completely dependent on the Dominant during and immediately
following such intense play. Naturally, a high level of trust is
required between partners.”

To Brie, subspace sounded like a frightening
experience. To lose control like that and be at the mercy of
another person’s whims seemed unacceptable. It made her wonder if
she wasn’t submissive material after all.

“Ladies, it is imperative you understand
that a
true
submissive finds pleasure in serving the needs
and desires of another. If it is more about your needs than your
Dom’s, then it is just roleplaying in the bedroom.”

After that profound statement, Mr. Gallant
ended the class. “It is time for your first practicum. Please leave
your coat at your desk and proceed to room eight, at the other end
of the hall.”

Brie looked at the other five women
nervously and then undid her coat. She slipped it off her shoulders
and laid it across her desk. The other women followed suit. Each
had on a different outfit. Some were made of leather of different
colors, similar to hers, while others were made of satin and lace.
Brie wondered if any thought had been given to each individual
uniform, or if they had all been randomly selected. Whatever the
case, all of the women looked scandalously stunning in their
uniforms.

The five filed out and she followed behind
them. Just as she made it to the door, Brie stumbled and slammed
against the doorframe.

“Miss Bennett, I recommend that you get used
to walking in those shoes. Tomorrow I want you to wear them as soon
as you get up and practice walking in them the entire day. Consider
it your homework assignment.”

Brie wanted to protest, to explain why that
wasn’t practical given her place of employment. However, the
kindness in his eyes made her stop and reconsider. Mr. Gallant
wanted her to succeed with her training and, for whatever reason,
six-inch heels were important to him. She nodded and smiled before
attempting to walk down the hall with grace.

It turned out that room eight was
not
a normal classroom. There was a table at the front with four
instructors already seated at it. The floor was made of a soft,
spongy material and, in the middle of the room, Brie noticed six
odd pillows that looked like large triangles lying on their sides.
She had no idea what they were used for, but they certainly weren’t
for sitting on.

“Take your place behind of one of the
ramps.”

Brie looked up at the sound of a familiar
voice. Her heart started racing upon seeing the object of her
fantasies sitting in front of her.

“Tonight we shall weed out the wannabe
submisssives.”

There was a collective gasp in the room.
Brie looked at each of the four instructors, wondering what that
meant. The panel consisted of three men and one woman. The woman
was the same one who had met her off the elevator. She looked
serious and severe, although she was striking, with long, blonde
hair. The two other men were polar opposites. The man on the end
was tanned and large—in a bodybuilder sort of way—while the one
next to him was a skinny man with dark eyes and pale skin.
Unfortunately, none of their faces gave a hint as to what ‘weeding
out’ meant.

A fellow student spoke up. “What are you
saying exactly?”

“You may address me as Sir. That goes for
all of you,” he replied, looking directly at Brie. She trembled
under his gaze.

There was silence in the room until the girl
said, “Yes, Sir.”

He nodded and answered her question.
“Similar to in Ivy League institutions, your first few classes are
designed to discourage the weak. We are only interested in training
true submissives. You may choose to leave the program at any time,
or you may be asked to leave by any one of your instructors.”

“What about our tuition?” the girl
complained.

“It will be returned in full. Let me
reiterate, we are only interested in true submissives. Some of you
are unable to identify if you are true submissives yet. Tonight we
hope to make that abundantly clear.” He held up their application
packets. “We have your personal lists of preferences and dislikes,”
he stated. “The men chosen for this first practicum were picked
based on your responses.”

Brie couldn’t breathe. They were going to
have sex in front of the instructors, right now? She looked down at
the pillow in front of her and suddenly realized what it was. If
she were to lie face down on it, the edge of the ramp would lift
her ass into the air at the perfect height for fucking.

An assistant came into the room and handed
each of the girls a black strip of cloth.

“Tie on the blindfold and lie down on the
ramp.”