This is another installment of David's adventure with Acadia. It's recommended to read the prior installments (Parts 1-4), but this story can also be read by itself.
Thank you David for your valuable contributions to this work, and thank you to paul for your inspirational notes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.
David was reading the news on his phone and eating his pre-made vegetarian dinner on a folding table in his sterile corporate apartment. His trainer Acadia had long ago stripped away any notions of a luxurious lifestyle, having taken away his big screen television and comfortable furniture and replaced it with cheap plastic lawn furniture and nutritious, but tasteless, food. He was only allowed fifteen minutes of access to the internet for his recreational activity, and saw that his time was about up. He dutifully shut down his phone and logged the time of his internet usage on a spreadsheet that was sent to Acadia at the end of each week.
He scraped the last of his fava bean "casserole" into his mouth, at least satisfying his hunger. It had been exactly two years since he first met Acadia, and he still hated fava beans. But his involuntary surrender of meat allowed him to lose thirty pounds, and he was in the best shape of his life. Gone was most of his pot belly and the flab on his arms and legs.
He crumpled the aluminum tray that held his dinner and tossed it into the recycling bin. He opened the refrigerator and took out his one allotted beer. He cradled the bottle in his hand, the last vestige of civilization connecting him with his former life. He sat in a flimsy lawn chair and took his first sip of the ice cold beverage. The hoppy flavor of the IPA brought a smile to his face.
He remembered that day precisely two years ago when he was nursing the same brand of beer at a budget minded corporate hotel that was within walking distance of his corporate apartment. It was there that he first laid eyes on Acadia, who was having dinner with one of her subs. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and though he knew it was impolite to stare, watched with great interest as Acadia engaged in an animated, and unhappy, argument with Jade, a sub of hers that had completed Acadia's rigorous training regime. Jade argued, unsuccessfully, to remain in Acadia's stable. She had been with Acadia a little over two years.
David reflected on the last two years, the happiest two years of his existence on the planet. David had always suspected he had a strong submissive side, and his attempts to engage his former wife to satisfy those urges went nowhere. Then he met Acadia. Acadia's hobby was to nurture latent submissive tendencies in both men and women. Although she preferred women, she was intrigued by David, as he had achieved the highest score on the questionnaire she had all prospective subs fill out before she took them in. With her help, he plumbed the depth of his submissive tendencies, discovering that he would do practically anything to please her.
His happiness morphed into fear as he focused on his two year anniversary with Acadia. She made it clear to him that when he completed his training she would release him from her stable. He couldn't imagine life without her. He remembered that Jade's departure was a bitter one. He also remembered Four, the man whose place he took, living in dread of the time when his phone would ring, announcing the arrival of his replacement. Now it was time for David to be given a phone and to wait for his fateful phone call. He wondered if there was anything he could do to change her mind.
As he was contemplating his future without Acadia, the phone dedicated to Acadia chirped, indicating there was a text message waiting for him. He scurried to his bedroom and eagerly accessed the unread message.
Acadia: It's been two years now Five. It's time to visit the Farm. You will be picked up at your apartment at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow. Call in sick. Who knows, you might actually be sick tomorrow.
The text message was accompanied by an emoji of a fire breathing dragon grinning with big teeth.
Acadia was always pulling his chain, either literally or figuratively. She loved to deceive him in devilishly clever ways. She recruited his bosses into her scheme, and got him to embarrass himself in front of a conference room filled with the top executives of his company (he had his own cum sticking to his face, but he didn't know it), and made him offer his asshole for a dildo fucking in the ladies executive washroom. She convinced his next door neighbor, a tall elegant blonde who was at least two stations above his pay grade, to make him a sex playtoy for her and two of her drop dead gorgeous girlfriends. His ass was sore for a week but he also had a smile he couldn't wipe off his face.
David wanted to reply, but the text was an order, and an order didn't call for a reply. He stared at the screen, knowing this was the first step towards his departure. His predecessor was weighed, measured and photographed at the Farm, a real working farm that doubled as the headquarters of a loose network of dominants who displayed their subs on a secure website for members only. The subs would be available for "loan" to other members at exorbitantly low prices, typically less than a dollar, to make clear how little worth they were to their Masters and Mistresses. The pictures of the subs would be taken at the Farm, chained in a horse stall, where the salient statistics (bust, waist, weight, height, penis length and the like) would be displayed on the Farm's website as if they were livestock. The sub's sexual tendencies and training would also be described in graphic detail.
David remembered studying the website when he was given a temporary password as part of his recruitment process. Acadia's page included pictures of her subs while in sessions with her or others. He shuddered when her remembered pictures taken of him being taken anally and drinking his cum. He was never shown these pictures, but only told that according to the contract he signed when he became Acadia's trainee that he had relinquished all rights to pictures and videos he was in, and that the members of the Farm own all rights in them, and could display them as they wished. He would always be under their thumb contractually, but possibly without a Mistress, the worst of all worlds.
His thoughts returned to his life without Acadia. His bosses, Lynette and Danielle, had dominated him at Acadia's direction, and there was always Randy, his sexy blonde next door neighbor, who abused him more than once, again under Acadia's tutelage. He wasn't sure these intimate relationships would continue. Without Acadia, he would likely return to his sexless existence, trapped in a sterile corporate apartment working as a sales manager for a company selling a product he didn't give a rat's ass about. That prospect depressed him.
Although they had never discussed it, Acadia made it clear at the beginning that when his training was complete, he would be released from her stable. If he was going to the Farm the next day, he figured he could be released as early as the end of the week. Four days. The end of the world. He took the last sip of his allotted beer and slammed the bottle down on his flimsy card table in a moment of uncontrolled anger. The legs collapsed and his laptop came crashing down, cracking the screen and breaking the casing open.
"Shit!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. Randy would certainly report his shout to Acadia. He dropped to his knees and hugged the pieces of his laptop, starting to sob. He set the table back up again and opened the refrigerator door. He pulled out the bottles of beer labelled "Tuesday" and "Wednesday" with one hand and kicked the door shut. "Fuck it," he thought to himself. "I'm a short timer so I might as well do whatever I damn well please." He drenched his anger with the two beers and then drank "Thursday" and "Friday" as well. He fell asleep on the floor, still in his work clothes (sans pants) forgetting to leave a message with his boss.
* * *
"BOOM BOOM BOOM" rattled through his head.
David stirred on the floor. He moved his hand and a beer bottle labelled "Thursday" rolled across the floor.
"BOOM BOOM BOOM."
He stretched his forehead to force his eyes open. His parched lips were stuck together. His first thought was "Where the fuck am I?" His second thought was that he had to pee.
