When outsiders pictured slave training, they pictured long days of sexual exertion, nubile young men and women with bodies gleaming in the lamplight, and a wonderland of exotic pleasures. Darise was always slightly disappointed to correct them, to explain the real meat of the work. There was a mystique to the popular idea of his role, a certain allure.
It was an allure almost entirely missing from what the real work was. The sun had set hours ago, and the trainees had already been sent to bed. He was still awake, wrapped in a plush dressing gown over his nightgown, labouring by lamplight on the day's journal. There was more bookkeeping to the work than sex, more careful observation than canings, and far more instruction in the most mundane things than any outsider could possibly have imagined. It struck him from time to time, as it did this night, of the absurdity of his position, the strange realities of creating such impeccable creatures, the utter disconnect between the fantasy and the life.
In the garret bedrooms of the townhouse slept three of those strange creatures, driven to exhaustion by the day's labours and the terrible demands of their cruel taskmaster. Danae had been with him for a year now, but she was a special case, a trainer-in-training. The next had been in residence for several months, and was polishing nicely. His concern was with the third, the one who'd been with him for just three weeks now, a slender young elfin woman with dark hair and bright eyes.
Idly, he tapped his pen against his fingers, drumming the silver down onto the pads, before breaking himself from his reverie for another sip of rapidly cooling tea, flavoured with just a little lemon. With a sigh - half fatigue, half bewilderment - he returned to his journal and the correspondence. Minor business - procedural issues - was all that was left of the journalling for the evening, and with his mind refusing to focus on it, he set it aside for the next morning, taking up a fresh sheet to start a letter instead.
"Dearest Goddess,..." He began, as the mechanical clock on the wall ticked away.
__________
Naevia groaned in her bunk upstairs, rolling over onto her front and ignoring the mumbled annoyance from the curvy girl on the bunk beneath as the wood creaked. She ached all over from the day's hard lessons. Her tutor had taken the strap to her, and mottled black and blue bruises had already formed along her backside and the top of her thighs. Why did it matter if she couldn't gag on demand sucking a cock? Men didn't like girls who gagged, she knew that much, but somehow the faggy tyrant who'd taken her brief from her spotter didn't! He'd know a thing or two about sucking cock, prancing about in his fancy dresses, she thought and snorted.
She'd been sure, when they started their deepthroating lesson, that'd she'd make up for the mistake before that. But he hadn't used her himself - probably couldn't get it up with women - and had her practice on a dildo instead. And then, the beatings when she couldn't gag. Well... Not when she couldn't gag. When she rolled her eyes at him the third time he asked her to try and tap into the gag reflex she'd never quite been in touch with. But so what? Why learn how to fuck it up when she could already do it right!
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"...my latest ward seems compelled by some unknown force to resist every attempt I make to draw the right responses from her. I have seen ego before, and arrogance, but Naevia's last so-called owner has built so thoroughly into her a sense of superiority, a smugness, that it seems entrenched to the point of despair.
I remain determined to make something of her, not least because I know her 'play' owner who referred her to Eralis is a dear friend of Miss Sally. And she is, if nothing else, a superb test for Danae's ability to work with challenging future clients..."
He paused, swallowing lightly, and actually flushed at the thought of writing the next part of his report. But his employer demanded nothing less than a full accounting.
"I have refrained from making use of Naevia sexually so far. I suspect that, were I to use her, she would simultaneously decide she has power over me and subconsciously develop an unhealthy attachment that at this stage of the training would be unhelpful. I have made some use of Kaia, and happily report that she has become quite able at the oral arts on men despite her natural inclination being solely towards women. Unfortunately, this leads me to my next concern..."
__________
The beds were deliberately squeaky. They had to be. Some evil trick by the faggy little tyrant to keep them on edge, or let him hear if they tried to sneak out. Every time she tossed and turned, the wood rocked a little, making the most awful, irritating grinding squeak that made her teeth itch.
"Naevia, I'm trying to sleep..." Kaia quietly muttered from beneath her. "...it's a long day tomorrow too, can you no - "
"Oh, shut the fuck up, you dyke." Naevia growled out in answer, shaking her head and deliberately wiggling the bed louder. "Just because I've got the only pussy on the menu doesn't mean you've got a chance at getting it."
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"Naevia, despite her physical charms, is an appalling creature. She is unaware that I have tasked Kaia with reporting to me on her misdeeds, and by that account and my own observation, Naevia is a bigoted wretch. She regularly mutters under her breath that I am a 'faggot' - I can only assume for my clothing choices - and uses similar language with Naevia."
He paused again, pouring a final cup of tea from the still warm pot, stirring in the lemon and honey. It was an opportunity for thought, a chance to reconsider, but with a sigh he resumed the letter, pen sweeping neatly over the page.
"This being the case, I fear she is unsuited by nature to the role we had initially planned for her. She lacks the proper temperament for a sex slave, without a trace of the obliging humility and grace the position requires if a placement is to last more than a month, and it would take more time than her sale price would merit to try and instill it. I see only one alternative..."
He paused one last time before committing the final, fatal sentence to the page, signing the letter, and sealing it. The daily mail run would take it to the owner of his training house, for Her final approval. Most decisions he made of his own, but something so drastic, so... Unfortunate... he would be remiss to deny Her a chance to weigh in. The decision settled in his belly, dull and leaden and cold, and stayed with him as he turned to his bed, blew out the lamp, and effortlessly slipped into sleep.
__________
The ability to function with little sleep was one of the great virtues of a slave, and it was to his great disappointment that for the third morning in a row, Darise found Naevia still in bed as the sun rose, a fact reported to him as he made his late arrival at six-o'clock to the rooftop garden by Kaia, spoken softly as she served him his tea.
"And I suppose she gave you the same curses as yesterday?" He asked over the rim of the cup after his first slow sip, one leg neatly folded over the other in his elegant cream skirt, the pale light of the early sun lending it an unfortunate grey tinge.
"Yes, sir." Kaia offered as she buttered his toast, placing it before him.
"To be expected... You're doing well, tolerating her. I'm pleased. You may have to find a way to cope with owners who enjoy belittling you the way she does someday."
"Yes, sir." Kaia was getting better at concealing her emotions as well, he noted with satisfaction. There was only a brief hint of dismay creeping into her voice.
"I'll wake her this morning... But today, I'm going to task her to help you with the housekeeping. I don't expect her to be of much use, but - Ah." He paused, looking up to the door as it clicked open and Danae returned from delivering the morning letters, exchanged for a thick stack of correspondence.
"Danae. You're to keep an eye on Kaia and Naevia while they work. Note down everything, and let me see the attention you've been paying in your report tonight. I was just letting Kaia know the plan. Naevia will be assisting her - you are to leave her to Kaia's direction, not goad her along - and no doubt offering more of her brattiness."
He paused for another sip, smiling as Danae wordlessly joined him at the table and Kaia smoothly poured a second cup of tea for her.
"I want you to leave them alone for an hour or so after luncheon. Take the chance to sort through that correspondence for me - you know the usual rule, red lion stamp to me immediately, all of that. As for you, Kaia, in that hour I want you to try and use Naevia sexually. If she refuses, remind her I've told her she's to obey you - don't worry, I will when I wake her - and if she still refuses, accept it."
Danae raised an eyebrow wordlessly across the table at him, still not permitted to speak without permission after a careless wag of the tongue earlier in the week had caused him some small embarrassment with a buyer. He nodded, finishing his tea.
"Sir? Why?"
"Because, Danae, a sex slave that won't have sex with the people her owner wants her to is no good to anyone. But there's a niche we might just fit a brat into if all else fails."
"A niche, sir?"
"Not a pretty one, I'm afraid."
__________
She was not, Darise briefly noted, without a certain sort of appeal. Sleeping in the nude, half bare of blankets, Naevia had the sort of dishevelled beauty that might have bought her some small mercies from a man more concerned by his cock. But three mornings in a row, together with her vile mouth, took the polish off that charm, and it took an effort not to see her merely as a thorn in his side even with the raw visual beauty.
There was plenty of that. Long legs with shapely thighs, a delicate but womanly swell to the hips, a flat stomach with a hint of toned muscle that didn't quite reach the point of being overtly powerful. Supple, small breasts with tiny nipples and a lovely curve, and even - as strange as it was to admit - a shapely armpit, if such a thing could be said to exist. Beautiful green eyes, and the most lovely point to her ears. Oh yes, Darise thought, there was beauty to be had. It was most unfortunate that it was wrapped around one of the ugliest personalities he had met yet.
The blanket came away first, and Naevia stirred with a mumble at the wash of cool morning air over her bruised buttocks. Before she had a chance to rouse from whatever dream she had foolishly chosen to pursue rather than waking at the proper hour, Darise brought his strap down hard across both cheeks, and the mumbled shock turned into a screaming yelp that faded hard when it hit the soundproofed walls.
"OW!" Naevia cried, scrambling up on the thin mattress, failing to turn before Darise brought the strap across her ass again and instead actually falling off the bed.
"Up! Up!" He rarely raised his voice, and this morning was no exception. It was difficult keeping the feminine lilt to it at higher volumes, for one thing, and it gave his rebellious charges too much of a sense of power. And besides - with the hard crack of the leather against skin to do his yelling for him, why tire his throat unnecessarily?
Naevia caught one more blow across a thigh before she managed to rise, glaring at him with tired eyes, pouty lip parted to offer some insult before she had the sense to bite it back. Darise folded the strap back in half, tucking it in the broad pocket of his white cotton blouse.
"Today, Naevia, since you seem to resist all our attempts to impart a sense of your own routine, you will be joining Kaia."
