The last thing I expect is for him to suddenly spin me around and bend me over the table. I try to wiggle away from him, but he yanks my skirt up and smacks my assharduntil I am in tears and my skin is on fire. He then pulls me up and turns me to face him. I grit my teeth and glare at him, so he steps close and gets into my face. “Make no mistake, Little Dove. I might treat you with respect, but I will demand it in return. When I tell you to do something, you do it. You do not question me. You do not get an attitude. Now, get on your knees.”
“Fuck you,” I growl, but I do as he says and kneel. My ass is aching, but I’m angry. I want to scream and throw things to show it, but I tighten my fists and dig my nails into my palm. The pain pricks my skin, and it helps calm me.
“Were you permitted to speak to Fiona?” Adrian asks, looking down at me.
“No, but now I regret everything I said,” I snap. He looks at Raul, who turns to Fiona.
“Kneel,” Raul says, and Fiona practically throws herself down to avoid the punishment I received. “Who spoke first?”
“I did, Master,” Fiona says softly.
“What was the conversation?”
“I told her good morning and stated that I was enjoying being here more than I was willing to admit. She agreed, and we came over here,” Fiona explains.
“Is this true?” Adrian asks me.
“Yes, but…”
“But you changed your mind because you broke a rule and received a punishment for it?” He asks, cutting me off. I don’t say anything, and I can see in his eyes that I’ve hurt his feelings. “Speak, Alania.”
“I regret speaking because I forgot I wasn’t allowed to have a brain of my own,” I seethe. “I apologize, Master. I will be sure to only speak at your command and dismiss all emotion that doesn’t fit your desires.”
“Drop the attitude, Alania,” he scolds.
“Yes, Master.” I keep a deadpan expression and offer him nothing. He is pissed off now, and that makes me happy.
“Ladies, I love that you two have grown close, but keep the rules in mind and save socializing for more appropriate times,” Raul says.
“Yes, Master. I apologize,” I say with a sweeter tone.
“Take the others. We will be up shortly,” Adrian says.
Raul and the other Masters lead the women out of the dining hall, and I remain on my knees with a deadpan expression. “Get up,” he says in a tight voice. “What is your problem?”
“Nothing, Master,” I say simply.
“Bullshit. You were fine until breakfast. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is the matter, Master. I was being disobedient, and I am trying to be a better submissive for you,” I say. “I am deeply apologetic for my actions.”
“Goddamn it, Alania,” he snaps.
“Yes, Master?” I ask.
“Will you fucking stop it? Fucking hell.”
“Stop what, Master? Do I not please you? I am willing to accept all feedback. I want to please you,” I say, keeping the robotic demeanor that I know he hates.
“Just fucking go. You should be in class,” he snaps.
“Yes, Master,” I say, bowing my head. I turn and keep my head down as we walk, and I can feel the anger raging inside of him.
Good. Fucking asshole.
I keep my head down as we walk up the stairwell to the classroom. When we step in, I see there are seven large ottomans in the center with a chair behind each. Along one wall, there is every type of BDSM tool you can imagine. There is everything from floggers to whips and even spreader bars. On the opposite wall, there are various restraints. The back wall has seven St. Andrew’s crosses and a set of shackles hanging from the ceiling in front of it. Along the front wall, there is a projector pointing at a massive whiteboard.
“Sit,” Adrian snaps at me, pointing to the ottoman at the end beside Fiona.
