By moving one knee at a time, I crept across the floor pushing my doggie bowls into the hall. Doing that sort of thing for hours would probably kill my lower back, but five minutes was alright. After that, there was no reason to remain on my knees, so I didn't. I flossed and brushed my teeth efficiently, finding the small trash receptacle for used floss built in to the sink. Then I found I had nothing to do, so I returned to facing the wall of mirrors, kneeling, and staring at my reflection some more. I looked very different without a hair on my head. They had even shaved off my eyebrows! All my life, my face was framed with honey blonde locks. Now, there was just my bald skull. My face is quite triangular, with high cheek bones, a delicate chin and a small upturned nose that some admirers have called elfin. With no hair to soften the lines of my face, I looked a bit like the caricature of an alien. At the same time any circles that had developed under my big brown eyes had been erased, and I looked better rested than I felt. I wondered how long they had kept me under. There was no need to worry about my daily session with cosmetics. In some ways that was a privilege I didn't mind losing.
I quickly grew bored with studying myself, so I rose to my feet and paced around the room. Other than eat, brush my teeth, use the toilet, and shower, they had given me nothing to do but think. I wondered what sorts of training they had planned for me and which ones I would love or hate. I let both my fears and my fantasies run wild. But the truth was I had no idea what was planned for me.
I walked around the room, studying my new home more carefully. I found a large clothes closet that I hadn't noticed at first beside my bed. There was a rack for shoes, and a number of shelves. It was all completely empty, but it gave me some hope that I would be allowed clothes and possessions again eventually. The sink and shower were exactly as Trainer had said. Studying the bath end of the room, I noticed some curved mirrors high up the wall, out of my reach. I realized that using those mirrors, a person standing behind the one-way mirrors could see everything in the room from a different set of angles. It would even be possible to observe inside the shower and the closet. I turned back towards the mirrors, walked towards them and knelt again.
I had the urge to talk to someone, and I decided I might as well talk to my Trainer. He wouldn't answer me, but there was a good chance he would hear me. Maybe everything I did or said was being recorded. I decided that was probably true. If nothing else, my husband would probably want to watch the highlights. "Trainer, I don't know if you are listening to me, but I just want to say that I will try. I will try hard. I am here to learn and I will practice everything I am taught. I want to please my husband. I love him so much and I know that he will enjoy having a well-trained cunt as his wife. So, I just wanted to say... thank you for everything you will do for me. Thank you, Trainer." I felt silly, talking to a blank mirror. I also felt a lot like a kiss-ass. Was I trying transparently to butter up the new boss? No, that wasn't it. I just wanted to talk to someone, anyone, without getting myself in trouble. I lapsed into silence and thought about the last weeks and months, the book I had read, the encounters I had with Richard, the places I had gone. Then I got up and paced some more.
I held off on using the toilet as long as I could stand it, then I held off some more. I knew I would have to potty and shower eventually, but I was dreading it enough to avoid it for as long as I could. Finally I gave in and got relief. As I approached the toilet, I remembered that I wasn't allowed to sit. The toilet was fairly low and had no seat, which served as a pointed reminder. I squatted down and did my business, thinking that they laid on their message thick here. I had to work up the nerve to shower. I got in and shut the glass door behind me. I studied the shower controls. My only choices were 'on' and 'off' defined by a handle that turned to the right. The water would be exactly forty-two degrees. I reflected that I had probably been swimming in ocean water that wasn't much warmer. But then I had gotten out and basked in a hot sun. Here, I would have to stand shivering until I was dry. At least the room wasn't cold. If anything it was a little warm. I realized at that point I was just stalling, so I gritted my teeth and turned the handle.
I was blasted by a fierce jet of water that seemed even colder than I expected. They weren't saving money by skimping on water pressure. It felt like icy needles piercing my skin. I turned my back to the spray, and that was a little better. I always started a shower by letting warm water run over my breasts and down my belly. It was a little sensual pleasure. There was nothing pleasurable about this! Even on my back it felt like the freezing water was tearing off skin. I decided I had better get the first part over with and turn the darn thing off. I started to wet my hair before I realized I didn't have any. Well, that would make things quicker. I let the spray wash out the crack of my ass, then turned and lifted my arms to wash there. Ow! The jet on the side of my tit was painful, and the cold water running down my side was almost as bad. I did the other side quickly and then gritted my teeth and put my naked crotch in the path of the stream. I only lasted for about two seconds before I switched the water off and stood there shivering.
The worst part was I knew I would have to turn the water back on in order to wash away the soap. That would probably take longer. The soap was more than just mildly abrasive. It was a liquid with tiny bits of lava rock in it. And I would have to do this several times a day. Well, they would certainly have me clean. I stopped shivering pretty quickly. I took my time, because I was in no hurry for my second session with that cold water. First I washed myself thoroughly with the soap. I'm pretty sure there wasn't any spot on me I didn't get at least twice. Then I worked slowly with the razor, careful to shave everywhere without nicking myself. The shower was even more painful on my freshly scoured and slightly razor burned skin, but I survived. As I slammed the handle off, I wondered what it would feel like by the end of the day.
I opened the shower door and looked directly over at the mirror, shivering. I imagined that Trainer would want to see the results of the punishment he had ordered. Since he would see me anyway, I might as well give him a good view. I even forced myself to smile and mouth a softly spoken "Thank you, Trainer." I let myself drip mostly dry and waited for all the shivers to pass before I touched the lotion. It smelled faintly of cinnamon and something floral that I couldn't quite identify. It felt delicious on my freshly exfoliated hide. I took a great deal of time working it into every inch of my skin. When I was done I felt smooth as a baby's bottom all over and I liked the smell of me. I wondered how many hours it was until lunch time.
After a lunch of dog food eaten with my girly bits presented to the mirror and after my second shower, I broke down a little. I knelt crying in front of the mirror. I wanted to complain that it was too much, that I wanted some attention, any kind of attention. But complaining wasn't allowed, so I promised again that I would be good. I promised to work at my training, no matter how hard it was. I wasn't even sure if anyone was listening. What if there was no one there? What if I was humbling myself and making promises to no one at all? I felt a kind of awe then at the training methods of the facility. They were breaking me down with almost no effort at all. That feeling was enough to break me out my fit of self-pity. I returned to pacing and waiting for dinner.
The last shower of the day was the worst, of course. But I didn't break down again, or say anything to my Trainer at all. I just stood by my bed waiting for lights out. It seemed like hours and it probably was. I had expected to be bored, but it took me by surprise how wrung out and drained I felt. The things that had been asked of me weren't all that hard. It was the isolation that I couldn't stand. In some ways I thought it was probably worse than real solitary confinement, because I knew I was being studied and examined. That was especially brought home to me at meal times, when I had to present my ass to any anonymous person who was looking. I was grateful for lights out. I thought I would have trouble sleeping, but I pillowed my head in my arm and slept soundly until the lights came up to start my second day in The Training Facility.
Trainer walked into the room without ceremony before I was even halfway awake. I desperately wished for coffee, and I ached where a rock had been digging into my hip. "Good morning cunt. When the lights come on, you get out of bed and onto your knees." I obeyed, groggy but quick. In an instant the previous day came back to me. "Yes Trainer." Kneeling, the first thing I saw was two pairs of feet and legs. Trainer's were wearing combat boots and blue jeans. The other set was wearing black stilettos with heels at least eight inches tall. Looking up, I saw that Trainer was wearing a black t-shirt reading "staff". I thought he might be about forty. He had dark brown hair and a neat mustache over lips that curled a touch cruelly. The woman in the room was something else. She was wearing a short skirt: red, plaid, and pleated. Her white button down shirt was thin cotton, at least one size too small. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her hair was black and cut into a bob. She had clear blue eyes. Her face, like mine, would probably be described as "cute" and "elfin". She was carrying an enormous hand bag.
Trainer gave me a moment to collect myself. "I hope you enjoyed your free time yesterday. Today you will be very busy. You will have both instruction and work today." He paused for a moment. "What are the first two rules of the training facility?" he asked sharply. I looked up at him and answered quickly. "I must never, ever complain. And I must give thanks for everything I am given, Trainer."
He nodded and walked out to the hall. He returned with a very thin bedroll and a small, disposable pillow. He laid the bedding and the pillow out on my bed. In my previous life, I would have complained about them, but now I was pathetically grateful for this tiny kindness. "Oh, thank you, thank you Trainer." I actually had tears in my eyes.
He smiled. "That's a good cunt. You are welcome." The whole time, the woman hadn't moved. Now he turned towards her. "This whore is called Suzy, cunt. You will call her Miss Suzy."
"Yes, Trainer. Hello Miss Suzy."
"Suzy is your big sister. She is a whore who is close to graduation and she has earned many privileges. It is now her duty to help me teach you. She will do the simple things that I don't have time for." Interesting, I thought. Suzy didn't technically outrank me. If anything I outranked her, since she was a whore. I had better cooperate with her and learn everything I could. It was her job to teach me, after all.
"Yes, Trainer." He looked at me for a very long moment and I began to feel uncomfortable. His voice was silky when he went on.
