Lesson One

You find no solace in your hours alone. The lukewarm stone floor does little to invite sleep, and your concern regarding what awaits you in the Mistresses’s lesson plan remains at the forefront of your thoughts. In truth, you aren’t even certain how much time has passed since you first arrived. The lack of natural lighting in this place only further facilitates speculation. Is it day, is it night? These concepts are already starting to bleed together. As you wait out the inevitable return of the Mistress, you consider how you might escape this place. Surely if you thought your way in here, you can think your way out, right?

Sprawled out naked in the center of your cell, you close your eyes and attempt to concentrate. You imagine the physical aspects of your home: how it smells, how it looks, the arrangement of the furniture, the dust bunnies occupying space beneath your bed. The more detail the better, you tell yourself. You remember that the weather was wonderful; a bright sunny day. You recall the smells of street food that so often permeate the air of town. You squint your eyes tightly shut and try to imagine yourself there, walking down the road. “I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here. This isn’t happening. It's just a dream. Time to wake up. C’mon, please…just wake up.”

Silently murmuring to yourself, you are suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of footsteps approaching from down the hallway. You shuffle fearfully back into the corner, as you spy the Mistress and her two armed guards once again entering the cell.

The Mistress stalks towards you like a predator to its cornered prey. The resolve you built up over your restless night of sleep has suddenly melted in her presence, and you find yourself involuntarily shying away from view.

She unceremoniously fetches your dog bowl and places it in the center of the room. She rolls her eyes at your pathetic display of cowardice, as she motions you towards her.

You slowly get to your feet, but are immediately corrected: “Absolutely not, boy. Crawl.” She gestures to the space in front of her, near the dog bowl.

Deciding that this isn’t the hill to die on, you crawl on your hands and knees and sit in front of her. She immediately grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs at your face, forcing you to look up at her. “Did I say sit? Kneel, ****. Kneel before your Mistress.” She shoves you to the ground.

You massage your pained scalp with one hand, while attempting to cover your bare cock with the other. You shift to a kneeling position in front of her, hoping to de-escalate the situation. You look up at her expectantly.

She glowers down at you, unamused by your performance thus far. “Hands on your knees, slut. Or must I teach you proper manners as well?”

Your face glows fiercely red as you think better of challenging her on this. You expose yourself fully to her and rest your hands on your kneeling thighs.

She snorts as she inspects your flaccid, unimpressive cock with three of her fingers. “Just as I imagined. You belong here, after all.”

She rests her palms on her hips, and as she does so, you notice that she is holding a black switch in her right hand. “Look me in the eyes, pet.”

You dutifully look up, hoping to avoid a thwack from that tool of hers.

“Today is your first lesson, and the easiest.” She reaches out and runs a finger softly over your lips. “Meet my expectations, and you will be fed. Fail to do so, and you will be punished. It's that simple.”

You nod as you feel her firmly but not unkindly tracing your jawline with her strong fingers. “You will learn how to greet your betters today. All I need you to do is politely repeat one sentence for me. Doesn’t sound so hard, does it?”

You shake your head slightly in her grasp.

“Good.” She leers down at you. “Repeat after me: Hello Mistress, how may I serve you today?”

You feel a cold sweat cover your body as the implications of this moment begin to take root in your mind. On the one hand, you are starving, and the statement is simple enough to repeat. On the other…if you capitulate now, who knows what demands she might make tomorrow, or the next day? Do you really want to surrender so easily?

You look once more at the black switch in her hand. She grimaces at your hesitation, and you realize that you need to make a decision. It's now or never.