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The Academy: Ensnared

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Chapter 2 - Porcelain White Tubs

A/N//: WARNING: There are sexual interactions within this chapter. Readers be advised, this is an 18+ chapter. This is the only chapter that I will be posting such warnings, as this is a mature book, and you should be following the guidelines set by Inkitt in regard to mature content.


The rest of the building, like the main entry, was dark and dreary. The walls were all a dark stone. Candle sconces lined and lit the halls. Amelia felt so small in these high ceiling pathways. She was small, but the 6 or so feet above her made her feel minuscule. The male beside her gave her the same feeling. He towered over her just as anyone else did. Christopher Alexander. She literally knew nothing of him. He hardly spoke while they walked other than to describe the places they were going.

“This is the cafe. You may come here on your own, with me, or with other submissives. I don’t want you with other dominants,” he said, gesturing to the cafe. The walls were the same grey stone as the rest of the castle, but tapestries of reds and blacks lined them. The ceiling in the room was domed. At its center was an oculus, a circular window. It was laced with support beams that were intricately carved into swirling designs. On the ceiling were also paintings of dealings with submissives and their dominants; she assumed it was an addition made to the former castle once it was renovated. They involved beatings, kisses, and plenty of sexual conduct. No matter how grotesque and vile they may have been, they were beautiful. There were narrow windows that let in bits of gray light as well as the oculus at the center of the ceiling, but the room was mostly lit by candles like the rest of the castle. She had to feel sorry for the poor fellow who went about lighting and dousing the flames. Round, dark wood tables and wrought-iron chairs were littered about the room, each with another candle at their center. It seemed eerily romantic. Overall, the room was beautiful.

She and Christopher stepped through the arched door. The floor seemed warmer here under Amelia’s bare toes. She had not acquired any sort of shoes from her dominant yet. She smiled to herself, relishing in the warmth. She allowed her gaze to rise from her toes and the ground to look upon the inhabitants of the room. Many others milled throughout the cafe, talking and sitting with each other. Amelia only saw it for a moment, but she found it interesting. These people had created a lifestyle together. It was beyond her how all of these different people could remain so... submissive.

Christopher’s hand at the small of Amelia’s back beckoned her to move forward. She followed his direction to a table. This one only had a single chair and a black velvet pillow beside it; she assumed the pillow was for her.

“Kneel,” came his simple command. Just as she knelt upon the soft fabric, a voice called out to her master.

“Chris!” the male voice yelled. “So the rumors are true. You’ve chosen yourself a new toy to play with.”

She stared at the blonde dominant as he turned on his heel to face the owner of the voice. She looked, too. The male that had spoken to them stood feet from them. He was just a bit shorter than Christopher. He had dark brown hair and sharp, angular features. At his side was a girl just a bit taller than Amelia. She had dirty blonde hair and a pinched, freckled face. She looked at the ground and fidgeted with the skimpy maid’s dress her master had chosen for her.

“Yes, Erik, I did. What is it to you?” Chris asked.

“She’s cute, but tiny. Don’t break her like you did the last one,” he said with a shrug. “I see you picked something typical of yourself for her to wear.”

As if on cue, Amelia looked down upon the outfit her master had chosen for her. She was left in a thin, transparent lace bra and matching panties. Around her ankles she had leather cuffs with a two feet of thin, silver chain connecting them. She had a matching set around her wrists. She felt like a prisoner to this male, but she did not complain for fear of his reaction. He was cold and callous from what she could tell so far. She had high doubts that his personality would change any time soon.

“She’ll earn the right to wear more. For now, she can feel revealed and constrained,” Chris said with a certain amount of ease to his voice.

He had done this on purpose. He had taken the initiative to humiliate her. Amelia’s cheeks burned a dark crimson color. Any emotion he wished upon her, she felt. Embarrassment, humiliation, fear. She felt it all, and she had only become his a few minutes previously. She felt so small compared to this man. Amelia was not used to this. She was accustomed to being tall and proud... She couldn’t bite the words back.

“Don’t speak about me as if I’m not here,” she snapped, her tone bitter. She would not have it. If she had to subject herself to such public humiliation, then she’d at least make an attempt to make a stand against it. She figured it would be a bad move, but her tongue could not be held. “I’m not an object. I’m a person with feelings and emotions, you perverted cow.”

Bad move.

Erik was upon her in the blink of an eye, his fingers curling around her jaw with a bruising force. He lifted her an inch or so from the velvet fabric of her pillow, dragging her closer to his face. “You’d do well to hold your damn tongue. You’re just a whore like the rest of the sluts here. You came because you wanted an erotic way of being fucked,” he spat. His dark chocolate voids bore into hers. “Listen here, bitch. This isn’t like hooking on the streets. It’s a lifestyle. If you were mine, you’d have been beaten black and blue for even thinking that towards your Dominant.”

“Enough Erik,” Christopher snapped. He had come to Amelia’s recuse. She fell back onto her heels, her eyes watering. She was sure to bruise where he had gripped her face. “She is mine to punish, not yours. I’m in no way defending her actions. She should understand the rules I had already explained to her. I’ll see to it that she is dealt with accordingly.”

A snarl escaped Erik’s lips before he nodded. He beckoned to his submissive at his side as he turned to leave. “Moira, move your damn feet before I find a reason to beat you.” The small submissive trotted after him. She seemed afraid of her dominant. Amelia pitied her.

She, however, pitied herself more. She looked upon the stone-cold face of Christopher above her. He did not seem pleased. He merely knelt down in front of her and clipped a leather cord to her collar before standing once more. Without a single word, he turned and started for the exit of the cafe, tugging the leash as he went. Amelia stumbled to her feet, very nearly tripping over the chain between her legs. Christopher was pissed; this could be seen by the rigidness in his frame. She had done well to let her words aimlessly spill from her lips.

Christopher tugged roughly on the leash and Amelia stumbled once more, crashing her bare knees against the cold, hard tile. She used her palms to keep herself from face planting. The rough edged tiles scraped and dug into her soft flesh easily. She yelped in pain and did not get up. Upon feeling her fall, Christopher stopped and turned.

“Get up,” he said with that same ease in his voice.

Amelia’s dark grey eyes were like daggers. “You pulled me to the ground. Are you not the least bit concerned?” she asked, her tone bitter.

“I said, ‘get up’. You will do well to follow my commands so as to not force me to tell you a second time.”

Amelia’s eyes did not shift from the male as she slowly pushed herself back into a standing position. He glared down at her, but said nothing. He turned on his heel and resumed walking once more. Amelia followed, glancing briefly down at her palms and knees. Both were gently scraped and littered sparse amounts of blood. Her knees looked as though they were already bruising. She said nothing as well, and followed her dominant. Soon they made it too a door that simply read ‘Alexander’. She assumed it was Christopher’s quarters.

The male stuck a key in the door and swiftly turned it before opening the door. He pushed Amelia inside with a bit of force, causing her to stumble for the third time. Christopher flipped on the light. The room looked as if it was more than just a bedroom. It seemed to be a full living quarters. It showed nothing of the old, archaic halls outside. The room had crimson walls and plush black carpets. A sofa was at the center and a television was across from it. She only saw a DVD player beneath it. There was no cable box. She was unable to take in the rest of the room before she was ushered into another.

Once the light was flipped on in this one, Amelia very nearly shrieked. This one was by far larger than the other. It was full, as well. At the center of this room was a large bed with crimson velvet blankets. The frame had four posters, each conveniently installed with leather bindings. On the far back wall, there were an assortment of riding crops, paddles, belts, and floggers on the wall; she only knew these because of the websites she had visited before coming to the Academy. There was a varying amount of furniture along the walls including a wooden cross, a chaise lounge, and a table. Christopher Alexander had a fully stocked playroom for kinky fuckery at his hands.

The table is what Christopher directed her towards. The metal structure gleamed a cool silver. On two of the legs there were more leather bindings that she assumed were for her ankles. At the long end, there were two more for her wrists. She swallowed. She prayed that he wasn’t about to do what she thought he was.

“Stand still. I’m going to braid your hair,” he said simply, pulling her pewter locks back over her shoulders. He adeptly weaved the long strands into a braid before knotting it off with a black elastic band. He then turned her to face him before unlatching the cuffs at her wrists. He followed suit and unlatched her ankles as well. “Take off your bra.” Unwilling to receive any more punishment than she already was, Amelia unlatched the thin lace and allowed it to fall from her body to the floor. “Lean over the table and spread your legs.”

Once again she followed his command. Amelia leaned over it, allowing her chest to touch the icy metal. She wanted to squirm and lift herself, but she knew better at this point. Despite how cold it was against her sensitive breasts, she had to succumb. Christopher latched Amelia’s ankles to the legs of the table. There was at least two feet of distance between her feet, a stretch for her tiny frame. He then locked her wrists into place before standing at the head of the table.

“I am going to punish you Amelia, but before I do, I want you to understand why you are being punished. Do you understand why?” he asked calmly.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me why you are being punished Amelia.”

“Because I misbehaved, Sir. I spoke out without being asked, Sir. I called you a name that you did not permit me to call you, Sir.” The words rolled off of the girl’s tongue like acid. It was degrading to speak to him as if he owned her. She hated the feeling. She felt gross saying such things, but she did not say so.

“And what is the name you called me, Amelia?”

“I called you a perverted cow, Sir.”

“What are the names I allow you to call me, Amelia?”

“Sir, Master, or Daddy, Sir,” she said softly.

“Do you know how many rules you broke today, Amelia?”

“Two, Sir.”

“Correct,” he said. “Now, Amelia, for each rule you break, I am going to spank you fifteen times. How much is that in total?”

He was treating her like a child. She burned with humiliation. “Thirty, Sir.”

“Good. You are to count with me, Amelia.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Christopher walked behind the girl and placed his hand gently on her rear. She did not count. She could only assume that was not going to count. His finger trailed against her lace covered behind before reaching her hips. He curled his fingers around the fabric of her panties and tore them with ease. They fell to the floor between her legs. His hand fell gently back to her rear. He rubbed it gently before raising it. She was expecting the hit to come, but the shock of it was extreme. Christopher’s hand upon Amelia’s bare ass made a loud slapping noise. She wanted to cry out in pain, but she only uttered the number ‘one’.

Christopher’s hit continued to come, switching between her left cheek and her right. By the time they had reached fifteen, tears were stinging at her eyes and her ass was crimson. His sixteenth hit was not expected, at least its placement. Christopher’s hand fell down upon her exposed sex. Amelia felt a rush of what seemed to be a mix of pain and pleasure. A small noise escaped her lips as well as the sixteenth number. She could almost hear the smirk in the male’s chuckle. All the way up to thirty, he alternated between her ass cheeks and her increasingly moist sex. The ones between her legs she craved. His final hit landed there.

“Thirty,” she breathed through her teary eyed pleasure.

The male chuckled once more before letting his hand travel down to her sex once more. He seemed to enjoy the wetness between her legs.

“I want to recap why you were punished Amelia. Tell me.”

“You spanked me thirty times because I broke two of your rules, Sir.”

“Are you going to break those rules again, Amelia?”

The girl hesitated. If punishments were going to be like this all the time... “No, Sir.”

“Good. Your behavior is forgiven,” he said softly, rubbing the lips of her sex gently. Two of his fingertips circled it slowly before suddenly plunging in. Amelia sucked in a breath, but remained deadly silent otherwise. “Hmm... Your tight... Still a virgin. They didn’t enlighten me on that little tidbit of information. You’ll be fun to deflower.” Christopher let his fingers slide in and out of her sex slowly, stretching her just a bit. The pain was insubstantial compared to the pleasure she felt. And then it suddenly stopped before she could find her release. Christopher removed his fingers and began to work on the latches at her ankles and wrists, freeing her.

Amelia stood upright, her face crimson. She couldn’t believe that she had so easily allowed herself to fall victim to enjoying his touch. She didn’t want to believe it. She looked to the ground and stared for a few moments. She could still feel the soreness at her rear, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain of her own stupidity.

“Come,” he said simply. Christopher led Amelia from the room and into a large bathroom. A large, white clawfoot tub sat dead center; there seemed to be a concentric theme going on within the rooms in his apartment. Christopher turned on the water in the tub and gestured for the girl to get in. She climbed over the ledge and sat down, wincing as her tending bottom hit the cool porcelain. She didn’t look at Christopher while he went about moving within the bathroom. She was in her own world.

This Academy was strange to Amelia. Submission was not something she herself had thought she’d be falling victim to. She hadn’t been forced. She had signed away all of her rights in that contract. Christopher was able to punish her at any time he wished. He could do what he liked to her body aside from physical lacerations. Your body is mine. Amelia was sure that the male meant those words. He seemed so serious earlier when inflicting a punishment upon her. She saw no embarrassment on his features. He showed no signs of remorse. He was completely calm and collected. He acted as if her body was his. It was...

Amelia hadn’t noticed Christopher had stripped. She didn’t notice until he was climbing in the bathtub behind her. The tub was nearly full at this point. He nudged her back so that she leaned against his toned chest. He washed her small frame and her hair in absolute silence. This was a side of Christopher she had not seen. He was gentle. He seemed kind. They sat together for what seemed like hours in that silence, relaxing in the warm depths of the white porcelain clawfoot bathtub. Most awkwardly, she felt his erection firmly against her back.

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