Chapter 1: ...And Introducing Lily
Welcome to The Academy. We have never called it anything else. We have never known it as anything else. We have been here since 1792, an age when decadence and the idea of a libertine was not so unheard of. We have thrived here for ages and have made little secret of it, though most still think of us as a “secret society” full of mystery and sin. Reporters do not get past our walls. No cameras are allowed. We do not record anything that goes on here. This is not secrecy. This is privacy. We have, as of today, 2,824 paying members on our roster.
We have another 6,807 people who own basic membership which entitles them to our newsletters and our social events, though it does not give them access to the Academy itself. We have a staff of 15 and a student number of 32. We have branched out to other countries and smaller houses. We now have schools in Amsterdam, Berlin, The British Virgin Islands, Los Angeles and Boston. Still, here in England, we are the beginning of it all. Our house is the largest, most of the others holding only 10 students and three to five staff members. We get letters, portfolios and resumes from thousands of potential students each year who beg us to take them as students. 97% of them are refused. To be a student here is to be a student of the finest training academy in the world for our trade. To put it nonchalantly, we train sensual slaves.
Everyone is willing here, everyone cared for, but the work is difficult, physically and mentally . A proper slave is willing to please his or her master or mistress in any way they can. A good slave is beautiful, talented, intelligent and sensual. A real slave feels that there is no other kind of life that is better. This is happiness in the fullest to them.
I am 1st Trainer here. That means that aside from those who own The Academy, who are rarely seen, I am in charge of most things here. If a decision is to be made, it passes me before it is allowed. I came by this early in life. I was seventeen and I begged to be allowed to work here. Alas, I was not accepted until I turned eighteen. I am 23 now, young in most people’s eyes, but seen as a capable and often fierce authority figure here. I train the slaves well, and I nourish their minds and souls. I have seen some of the most beautiful people in the world filter through these doors, bodies from Heaven, and I have seen them go on to work in the houses of fine aristocrats and even royalty.
I have decorated this place from head to toe, redesigning the interior and the sculpting the gardens. Our facility is perhaps as special as the people we train. In 1792, this place was purchased for the Academy to act as its headquarters. It has served this purpose since. The building is a beautiful chalet style stone manor house set on 42 acres of grounds. Lush subtropical gardens surround a private lake and several small stone cottages on the property. Two years ago, I hired landscapers to redesign the garden with a fully-grown implanted quarter of an acre hedge maze. The Academy is my pride and joy and I keep only the finest things inside and out of it.
What kind of a person is a trainer at a BDSM academy? Shall I introduce myself then? I am not much different than you. I want the same things as you. I dream the same dreams of life. I would not call myself beautiful, though others have called me so. I have dark auburn red hair that flows prettily down my back. My skin is pale and lightly freckled. My face still has the unmistakable mark of youth in puffy cheeks and bright wide eyes.
My eyes are perhaps my most striking features, as they are very brilliant emerald green. I am very small in stature, too small, in fact. I stand four feet and ten inches tall and am slender but curvy. My appearance possesses a sort of half woman half child appeal, which seems to get a few compliments. I went to school in Ireland, my homeland, and traveled as a child. My father was in the military. My mother a shy piano teacher. I have a twin sister who attended convent school and became a nun. I was always the same as everyone else...and still very different.
I teach willing students to be the greatest lovers, to be subservient and to pleasure always. I entertain guests at this mansion with games and playfulness of an erotic nature among those in my charge. I am everything to everyone here.
Those who are fortunate enough to afford entrance to our rooms can have any pleasure they wish. Anything they desire. When the students finish their training, they go to auction and are bid upon by the beautiful, the famous, the fantastically wealthy. I choose most of my students from amateur auctions.
THE AUCTION AT ST. TROPEZ
St. Tropez in the French Rivera has been my favorite place to find good students. The auction there which is held bi-annually by a wealthy German couple gives me a chance to find beautiful slaves who have been somewhat trained already by their spouses or in a private house. The Academy is always given VIP access to the auction.
Strolling through the scenery of the outdoors-garden venue, I cautiously looked over the selections of around fifty slaves, carefully chosen from fine upbringing and aesthetic beauty. In the garden, they stood gracefully, posed almost like statues among the roses and orchids that bloomed brightly throughout the lush greenery . Holding the extensive catalog with descriptions and information on each slave, I approached a beautiful well-muscled male slave with dark blond hair.
“Your name is Andrew?” I asked. He hesitated in answering. He was not sure if he was allowed to speak. I took the slender black riding crop tucked beneath my arm and I swatted him sharply on the naked backside with it. He flinched and answered.
“Yes Mademoiselle. My name is Andrew.”
“You are from Australia, it says.”
“Yes Mademoiselle. I am from Melbourne Australia.”
“Your age?”
“26, Mademoiselle.”
“Have you been trained at all?”
“Only a little, Mademoiselle, by Mistress Marianne Daly. I have good references.”
