Your Master Requires Your Obedience · Part 3 (3/4)
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“This is the important one. Compliance: the model predicted a complete lack of defiance in any form. Past history shows a moderate trend for most level threes, and a much lower inclination for level fours, to present some form of hesitancy when faced with the open cage door. We see at least a two standard deviation measure on this point with the level five, favoring no resistance at all in every case. If we collect enough data points similar to this, we’ll have a good case to show a positive correlation between genetic disposition and predictable behavior.”
Preparation Lenora stared at the wall. Life in the secure section, it all came back to her the moment she crossed over from the living area. No clothes, plenty of chains, and that dreadful chastity belt. She was proud of her collar; that was about all she could put in the positive column. Then there was the ubiquitous “wall time”, loved by Wardens but one of her least desired activities. That’s where she was now, staring at the wall outside her soon to be classroom. Steve’s hand on her back held her in place. He might be her master but this was the secure area. He had to act in his role as Warden, showing no favoritism.
“Your class is arriving now. Once they’re settled, I’ll take you in. Remember your instructions.” She’d watched videos of Paula in action, and the Head of Research had stopped by to go over some of the changes for the FastTrack program. Steve had helped too, letting her rehearse at home.
She’d never heard of the FastTrack program. That wasn’t unusual at the Center. If she needed to know she’d be told. It was Steve’s job as her master to select what she should read, watch on TV, or access on the Internet. Lenora never tried to stray beyond his boundaries; she earned his trust by respecting the limits he set for her.
“Yes, sir,” Lenora replied. She had to be extra careful never to use his name on the secure side. He wouldn’t hesitate to punish her for such a serious mistake, and rightly so.
He unlocked the handcuffs and steered her toward the door. “You’ll need this.” Steve handed her a thin wooden stick, stained and polished to a high gloss, with a rubber tip at the end. “This is your symbol of authority, as their instructor. Use it for emphasis, when it’s needed. Don’t forget, you are forbidden to strike them so don’t get carried away. Any real trouble, hit the call button. We’ll do the rest.”
Left unsaid was the fact there’d be surveillance cameras present. Paula had been recorded; it was obvious Lenora would receive the same treatment. Hidden cameras didn’t bother her, as long as she couldn’t see them. They were easy to ignore. It helped knowing if she didn’t deliver her best Steve would be there watching, ready to hold her to account.
“They’re waiting for you. Deep breath, hold, exhale. Go in there with confidence, grab their attention in the first five seconds and you’ll be in charge for the entire class. They want to learn, even if they don’t always show it. You’re the role model, you made it through. Be consistent and speak with the voice of experience. Above all don’t let them argue with you; it’s a way to challenge your authority. Lay down the law, your way is the only way, no discussion.” Steve opened the door.
Hall of Mirrors The classroom was a long, narrow hall, with mirrors lining one wall. In front of the mirrors was a wide, blue stripe on the floor, forbidden territory to all of them. The four women were standing close to each other, unsure what they were supposed to do. Lenora strode over to where they were huddled together, in the center of the hall.
“Line up on this red line, now! Whatever you do, do NOT step into the blue area.” She tapped the floor with her stick, pointing to the line painted on the concrete floor. They had to move slowly. No one had warned Lenora about their leg shackles, or that the connecting chain was so short. She wore the standard issue leg irons selected by the Center. Lenora thought hers were limited, but she easily had twice the stride of anyone in the group in front of her. She could literally run, or at least walk, circles around them.
“Now, extend your left arm, that’s how far apart I want you to stand.” Once they were done, she walked over to be in the center of the line, facing them. “Lower your arms. Spread your legs, as far apart as possible, like this.” She pulled her ankle chain tight. “I want to see those chains off the floor!”
How can they walk in those things? She couldn’t imagine being trapped in riveted shackles, with no way to get them off. She was going to need some adjustments to her class plan to account for their restricted movement. “Good, next, hands behind your head, like this.” Lenora lowered her stick to the floor so she could demonstrate the proper way to display themselves: hands behind her head, fingers interlaced, elbows up and wide apart.
Mindful that she kept her own ankle chain at full extension, and her arms in position, she walked up and down the line. She had some criticism for each of them. “Your toes are over the line, move back,” followed by “I told you, fingers on the back of your head, not your neck,” then “elbows up, wide apart,” and finally, when she reached Trina she had to pause, unable to find anything wrong. At a loss she had to settle with “keep your chin up, show off that collar,” the standby Paula always used.
Lenora backed up so she could face them all. “This is the position we must present to greet the Wardens when they return at the end of this class. It will also be used when you arrive for class, once you have permission to get ready. For us it is the one right way; mistakes are failures, failures to obey, failures to please. There will be none of that in my class.”
So far so good. She definitely had their attention, plus they were responding well. Steve was right, but he was an expert at this sort of thing. “My name is Lenora. I came to the Center by way of what I believed was my own free will. I was wrong. My future master had me brought here, without the slightest idea on my part he was responsible. He was in control then; he remains so to this day.”
While she talked, she kept a close eye on all of them, looking for signs of inattention. She wasn’t going to tolerate unacceptable behavior, not while she had something to say about it. “Not so long ago I was standing where you are now. I wasn’t too happy about it either, but I didn’t let attitude get in the way. You are all here for one purpose, to learn. To learn how to behave, how to please dominant men, and most of all to fulfill your own dreams.”
Lenora still didn’t fully comprehend the changes in her life. Steve and the Center had brought them on, in ways she couldn’t stop. Steve had forced his way into her mind, her very soul. She couldn’t even conceive of a life without him there to guide her. If she could pass that state of mind on to even one of these women, she could hold her head high in the knowledge she’d accomplished something.
It was a lofty goal, one that had to start with small steps. “I’m sure you noticed the mirrors? No, don’t look over your shoulder. Keep your eyes on me while I’m talking. Don’t move, don’t lower your arms.”
Lenora reached down to pick up her stick. She slapped it against her open palm a few times, a subtle reminder to the group of who was in charge. “The next step is to see yourselves in the mirrors. Like everything else at the Center there is one right way for you to turn around. Pay close attention because you need to remember it no matter where you are or what you’re doing.”
Using her stick she pointed to her left foot. “Now watch carefully. Always pivot on your right foot. To start, bring your left foot in,” she stood with her feet together, “and then begin your turn. Spin on your right foot, and always clockwise.” Lenora slowly spun around so her back was to the group. “Finally, spread your legs again. Move your left foot first, and then the right if you run out of space.” She shifted around to illustrate her explanation. “And again,” she turned once more to face the group again.
“I know, why such a clumsy routine? The short answer, because that’s the way it is. Long answer, I have no idea why it has to be that way. We don’t need an explanation, so there won’t be one.”
Lenora walked over to where Trina was standing, at one end of the line. “One at a time I want to see you turn to face the mirrors.” She pointed to Trina. “We’ll start with you.”
Reassigned “I’m sure I’m making a connection to the group, Sir. Most of them anyway; I can’t seem to get through to Maria. She’s going through the motions, but there’s no enthusiasm. The rest though, I’m positive they’re listening to me.” After a week as an instructor all of Lenora’s doubts about her ability to run the class had vanished.
“But other than Maria, you’re sure you have reached the others?” The Director asked. Lenora had been taken directly to a meeting room in the secure area after her class had ended. She stood facing him across a table, hands still bound behind her back. Next to her a Warden held onto one arm.
“No doubts at all, Sir. They are picking up on the lessons quickly. It’s obvious to anyone their self-confidence is on the increase.”
The Director nodded in agreement. “I’ve reviewed the cameras. We’re all impressed by the progress you’ve made. That’s why we’re going to reassign you.”
“Reassign, sir?” Lenora was apprehensive when she heard the Director’s words. Steve hadn’t mentioned anything about changes before her last class.
“We want you to be a mentor, a role model for the group. We’re going to embed you as one of them. You’ll live with them, sleep with them in the dorm, and attend the same classes. We want them to think of you as the fifth member of the group. We’ll find someone to take over your duties as an instructor.”
This was not good news at all. There’d be no nights off back at home with Steve, and that was just for starters. If she had to be one of them, that meant… “I apologize for this, but to fit in you will be required to wear the ankle shackles too. They will be permanent, riveted on, no locks. The chain linkage will be the same length. We can’t allow you any special privileges.”
The Director handed a slip of paper to the Warden. “Here’s the work order for the machinist. Take her to the tool room for her fitting; he’s waiting. After that, turn her over to her owner at the secure area exit.”
“Lenora? Your master is aware of this change and approved it. I know you’ll continue to do your best.”
On the Beach Lenora poked at her plate, lost in thought. Across the table, Steve could see she was preoccupied. He dropped his fork on his plate, noisily.
She looked up. “I’m sorry, sir. Did you say something?” Steve did allow her to use his name at home, in private, but the influence of the secure area was so compelling Lenora felt it would be disrespectful.
“How high is up?” It was an old joke, but from his tone he was serious.
“I, I don’t know, sir. The question doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand.”
“That’s right, and I don’t understand what’s bothering you unless you start explaining.” He pointed his fork at her. “Is it about those leg shackles?”
She couldn’t hold back. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. “Why me, sir? Why do I have to be the one that has to fit in with their group, to be their mentor? And why do I have to be the one to wear these dam…” She caught herself just in time, “these darned chains?” Steve didn’t tolerate swearing. He had a very nasty punishment gag if she forgot.
Then he was next to her, an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t notice when he gently removed her dinner plate. “Close your eyes. Listen to me. Think of that long, deserted beach. You’re standing on the sand. I’m close behind, arms around you, holding you tight. There is nothing but you, me, and the sounds of the waves around us. Put everything else out of your mind.”
Steve could feel the tension draining out of her shoulders. “I’m okay now, sir.”
“We’ll stay on that beach a while longer.” She snuggled close to him.
“Yes, sir. Umm, sir? Can I wear that new swimsuit, the one we got for the trip to Catalina?”
“Swimsuit? I don’t recall giving you permission to wear a swimsuit, or anything else. It would only get in the way.”
Lenora giggled. “My mistake, sir.”
Steve kissed her and stroked her hair. “Now why don’t you tell me what's bothering you? Was it being sent back to the secure area? Being forced to strip, the belt?”
She looked up. “Oh no, sir, none of that. If you think it’s best, that’s where I have to be.” She still had the chastity belt on. She wasn’t sure if it was an oversight on his part when they left the secure area, or if it was intentional. Whichever it was, she would never challenge his authority by asking about it.
“Then what? I want you to tell me.”
That was a direct order. Lenora couldn’t hold back. “This afternoon, sir, the Director asked to see me in the secure area, after a class. He said I was to be transferred to the FastTrack group, starting tomorrow morning. I assumed you must know about it, so I didn’t think much about it. Then he explained that I’d have to wear the same leg shackles so I could integrate with the others.”
Lenora twisted in her chair so she could bring her legs out from under the table. The chain rattled as it dragged across the tile floor. “Sir, he said they were permanent.” She began to cry again. “I have to wear these things the rest of my life. There’s no lock, no way you can release me. I had my heart set on the trip to Catalina. Now we’ll never have a chance to walk on the beach at sunset.
“I tried so hard to be extra good, sir. I didn’t want anything to spoil our trip. You’ve always been patient with me. I know I have to be punished if I disappoint you, but until now you’ve always explained what I did, and how I can do better next time. What did I do that made you discipline me this way? If you don’t want me, sir, please, just put me in a cell in the secure area and forget about me. I’ll be okay.”
What was it Big Mike had told him? It was something about grabbing hold of a tiger by the tail when Mike took on his Paula. Right now, Steve felt like there was a tail in each of his hands and a pair of hungry Bengals on the other end. Lenora’s tendency toward guilt trips had run wild, right off a cliff.
“Hey! Look at me.” He had to regain control of the situation immediately. She turned to him, streaks still running down her face. “Listen to me. First of all, when the Director said permanent, all he meant were rivets, not a lifetime sentence.” He reached down to grab one of her ankles. “I can have these removed whenever I want. I’m not going to leave you chained up the rest of your life.”
He could see depression fading away in her face. “Really, sir? It won’t be a lifetime?”
“Before I answer, think about this. If I asked you to wear those shackles, to please me, would you then accept it?” He reached behind her back, running a hand up and down her spine.
Lenora bit her lip, the weight of that decision bearing down on her. It meant a lifetime without beaches, without going to the movies or to dinner; it meant stares from the public if she were ever caught out, and all but hiding to avoid it. It meant never wearing jeans again, though she was getting used to that idea already. How could he ask it of her? But disobedience to his will?
That opened a vast chasm of chaos, an alternative too frightening to contemplate. Where would she be without his direction, his hand guiding her on the path she must follow? The insecurity, the revulsion of that thought made her turn into him and sob. Her only response came out weakly, in this case motivated by the cliché about being between the rock and a hard place. Hard choices, ones he should make for her, but in this instance, she could only pick the hard place of accepting his wishes, rather than the crushing rock of rejection.
“Yes, sir,” she replied softly, into his clothes. “I would submit to whatever you choose for me.”
“Those shackles are not going to be for a lifetime, not even close.” He took hold of her chin. “As soon as you’re finished with the project, we are taking that trip. We will drive to Los Angeles, we will get on the boat, we will stay at a nice place in Avalon and explore Catalina for an entire week. That includes a walk on the beach, in your new swimsuit. You will wear it, that’s an order. What you won’t be wearing are those shackles. Am I clear?” He had to shift to his stern, commanding voice to get her attention. It was working.
“Yes, sir,” once again she whispered, head down.
“Oh no, not like that. You know better. Face me and answer the way you’ve been taught.”
She sat up straight, hands in her lap. “Yes, sir, I understand,” she replied in a clear voice, looking him in the eye.
“That’s better. Tomorrow morning you get one more ride in your chariot.” He pointed at the restraint chair, parked in the front room. “You will remain in the secure area as a member of the FastTrack group. If asked why you are there you will tell them you are not permitted to discuss it. When the program ends, we are on our way to California. Do you have any questions?” She thrived on detailed instructions. His speech should get her focused back on her assignment.
He couldn’t put a name to it, but she had this peculiar expression, the one that showed up after he gave her some small chore. It was a sure sign of her obsessive need to pour all her energy into that task, no matter how trivial. “No questions, sir.” For the moment Steve could let go of those tiger tails.
“We’re not done yet. Lift up your dress. Higher, that’s good.’ Steve reached for the keyring on his duty belt. “This is going to get in the way tonight, so we better do something about it.” He inserted the key in her chastity belt and turned it in the lock. The belt came apart, the front dropping down, the waistband separating in his hands. He pulled it away from her waist and tossed it onto the front room couch.
“My dress, sir? May I lower it?”
“No, it’ll get in the way too. Take it off; toss it over there on the couch.”
“Yes, sir, right away.” His old Lenora was back.
A New Instructor Trina stood in line in the hall of mirrors classroom with the rest of the group. She stared at her reflection, looking for any imperfection that needed to be corrected. I have to get this right, she told herself. Any moment now the instructor would enter, with a Warden. Frowning, she raised one elbow slightly, concerned they might not line up properly. The Warden would look them over before leaving, and they didn’t miss those small details. She was determined he would find no fault with her. Once more she studied herself in the mirror with a critical eye.
When did pleasing the Wardens become so important? Trina thought back to the day she arrived at the Center. The pressure to conform, to obey, had started immediately. She had complied, with some reluctance at first, but it was obvious to her there was nothing to be gained in pushing back against the Wardens and their rules. There was no single defining moment when her attitude changed from fatalistic acceptance to zealous eagerness. Yet here she was, anxious that she might not earn the approval of a man she didn’t even know, simply because she failed to satisfy him with an overtly sexual display.
Trina heard the key before the door swung open. Lenora came in first, followed by a Warden she had rarely seen before. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t recognize the difference at first. When the Warden led Lenora over to the group, instead of behind them, Trina was sure this wasn’t normal. That’s when she saw the riveted shackles on Lenora’s ankles, identical to her own. Something had changed, and not for the better. Their instructor had been demoted to one more member of the group.
No sooner had the Warden removed Lenora’s handcuffs than he ordered in the crisp, commanding tone, “Assume your display position.” Trina saw her arms quickly rise up, hands behind her head, elbows out and precisely aligned. Perfection in a flash; Trina envied Lenora’s skill.
The Warden walked around in front of them, standing deep inside the forbidden blue stripe on the floor. “All of you will remain in position, in silence. Any violation, I don’t care who or why, and everyone will be punished. As of right now, Lenora will join your group. She is forbidden to discuss the events that led to this decision, so don’t ask her for details. Your new instructor will arrive in a few moments.”
The Warden slowly walked back and forth in front of the line, stopping to study each of them in turn. When he reached Trina she was frozen in place, terrified he’d begin lecturing her on all her mistakes before inflicting some terrible punishment on everyone. Somehow she passed his inspection when he moved on to Lenora.
A moment later the door opened again. This time she did recognize the Warden as the one who watched over them while they slept. With him was the woman who had delivered their orientation lecture; Cathy was her name. In the mirror she watched them go to the center of the room. The first Warden closed the door when he left.
“To start today I want each of you to turn around and face me. This will be one at a time starting at position one.” That was the other end of the line from Trina.
She watched the reflection in the mirror as he went down the line. When the Warden reached her Trina was ready. At his gesture she carefully turned, following the routine they had practiced for several weeks. In her mind it had been perfect but the expression on his face was one of dissatisfaction, not approval. Trina had the presence of mind not to show her reaction but his disapproval felt like a physical blow. She didn’t even notice Lenora receiving the same look.
The Warden slowly walked back to Cathy. “This is not acceptable. Make sure the next time I’m here I’ll see something better than a careless attitude and poor execution. Is that clear?”
Before Cathy could answer he turned to face the group. “Cathy will be your new instructor. Pay attention and do exactly as she tells you.” With those parting words he headed for the door.
“Okay,” Cathy began, “we know what has to be done.” She began tapping the side of her leg with her stick. “You heard what he said. No matter how long it takes we’re going to practice those turns until it’s done the right way, their way.”
Conversation Lenora collapsed on her bunk, exhausted after an extended session in the classroom on her first day with the FastTrack group. Stand, turn, kneel, stand, turn again; it went on and on. Normally she’d have no problem. After all it wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before. Except this time nothing went right.
She held up her feet. Not even heel to toe, she thought. No wonder she kept making mistakes. She’d start the correct move, only to stumble when that short connecting chain pulled taut, grabbing her ankles. She rubbed her calf muscles, trying to work out the soreness.
“It gets better with practice, the walking,” that was from Trina, sitting on her bed facing Lenora. “Not really, but it doesn’t get any worse. Is that something to look forward to?”
Lenora laughed. “I suppose so.” She jerked on the chain between her ankles. “I think I’m going to have to start over, to get used to these things.” She dared not complain about how difficult it was to move around with the shackles on. Chances were good someone was listening, and it was forbidden to criticize any restrictions imposed by the Wardens.
That thought made her conscious of where she was, and the ever-present cameras. Lenora sat up straight, feet together, head up, with her hands carefully folded the correct way in her lap. She was not going to jeopardize that trip to Catalina because a Warden caught her sitting improperly.
Trina immediately looked to the cell block door. “Are the Wardens coming? Is something about to happen?”
Lenora shook her head. “I don’t know. You’ll hear them when I do. You mean this, the way I sit?” She’d drawn a crowd. Two more of the group, Joan and Yoshi, were listening in on the conversation. Maria sat on her bunk, back to the wall, legs drawn up, her feet balanced on the edge of the bed.
“We had a lesson about sitting yesterday. Umm, you know about it.” That had been Lenora’s last day as instructor. “I thought it only applied when the Wardens were around,” Joan added.
Lenora tried to be patient. The point behind that lesson had not reached them, at least not yet. “Okay, let me ask you, would you rob a bank when security guards are there?”
Trina shook her head. “Of course not. I don’t rob banks. They’d catch me anyway.”
“Yes, they would. And if there were no guards, no police nearby, you were sure you’d get away with it, would you rob the bank then?”
Trina gave her a strange look. “No, like I said, I don’t rob banks. It’s wrong.”
“Is it acceptable to sit the way we are taught when a Warden is watching, but okay to be disobedient when they aren’t?” Lenora hoped she’d see the analogy of right and wrong.
“That’s not the same…” Trina trailed off in mid-sentence. Slowly she sat up straight, folded her hands in her lap and looked at Lenora. “Can you help me? I don’t remember all of it.”
Fairness “There, you have it now. Close your eyes to get a feel for it. With a little more practice, you’ll be ready in an instant. Just remember, keep those elbows tucked in.” Lenora leaned forward, using her hands to push in Trina’s arms.
“What about me?” Joan asked. When Lenora looked up she found both Joan and Yoshi were joining in on her impromptu training session.
Lenora stood up to get a better look. “Okay, you’re close but you need to move your feet forward. Straight line down from knee to ankle is what you are after.” Joan shifted. “Yes, that’s it.”
“What can I do?” Yoshi pleaded. “I’m too short to reach the floor!” Her legs were dangling down from the bed.
“Don’t panic,” Lenora reassured her. “You have to make some adjustments. You can either stay as you are, or scoot forward to the edge and straighten out your legs until you touch the floor. Whatever is comfortable. The Wardens are not unreasonable; they’ll treat you fairly.”
“Fairly?” Maria snorted in derision. She was not participating. “You think it’s fair they strip us, lock us up in a prison cell,” she held up her feet, shaking the chain linking her shackles, “and treat us like animals? Play your games but count me out.”
Lenora had to count to ten lest she say something she’d regret later. “Being fair, when it comes to those in authority over us, is not something I am concerned about. I am here to serve and hopefully please my master first, and to obey those men placed in charge of us second.
“Is there a double standard? Of course there is. It has to be that way. There’s one standard for us, our rules. There’s another one for the Wardens, and all the men here, as well. My master told me about it. A moral code, their own internal one, but just as important to them as our external version.”
Maria stared at Lenora, caught off guard by the ferocity of her response.
Your Master Requires Your Obedience · Part 3 (3/4)
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