Partnering   Chapter 4   Curriculum Changes

William and Catherine

William walked up to his private apartments and gestured for the two
monitors to leave.  On entering, he was immediately accosted by a nearly
hysterical Catherine.  Her hair was a shambles, the formerly tight braids
frayed and loose.  Her lipstick had been nearly chewed off, her rouge was
smeared and her eye makeup was running down her cheeks in technicolored
rivulets, following the tracks of her tears.  "How is he?"  her voice
hoarse with emotion and stress.

"Not good.  You cut him up pretty badly.  The blisters you caused with the
whip burst when you cut him again in the same place.  Doc Samualson gave
him a mild tranquilizer to get him home and some stronger stuff for the
next couple of days.  He won't rest without them."

Fear clutched at her anew.  "How is he getting home.  Surely he isn't
driving with the drugs in him."

William gave a harsh bark of laughter.  "He couldn't drive anyway -
couldn't tolerate sitting on his butt.  Dina is taking him home.  He's so
loopy he didn't argue.  She'll stay with him until he can take care of
himself.  Doc thinks he'll be semi-mobile in four or five days."  William
raked a hand through his hair and then turned on his lover.  "My God,
Cathy, just what in the hell were you doing in there?  How did it go so
far?"

She wilted into a chair and pulled her knees up to her chin.  "I don't
know.  I have been replaying the scene over and over, and I just don't
know.  Oh, I know when it went sour.  Everything was going really, really
well.  The cock strap was working, he was hard and getting harder.  For the
first time, I thought we were starting to play with the scene.  The instant
the anal probe touched his ass, it was over.  He told me the only reason he
was still hard was the cock restraint.  I believe him.  Next thing I know,
he's climbing the chains like a damned monkey.  We exchange words, I get
angry - more words, more angry.  Then I realized that there was absolutely
no way to salvage the scene.  I could not get him down without help.  I had
failed.  First time I've ever failed to reach a bottom on some level; 
first time I've ever failed to make the bottom get off on something we did. 
Then, something's in my hand and I'm beating the living hell out of him for
making me fail.  He fell, I kept it up and then, the whip is out of my
hands.  I still don't know what happened there.  I fall backwards, signal
for help and you know the rest."  A thought occurred to her.  "The
monitors, how are they?"

"Evidently, he was pretty careful with them.  They only have headaches and
a few sore jaws.  Based on what I saw, he could have hurt them badly,
killed them with little or no trouble.  Justifiable homicide based on the
condition he was in.  Self defense, I should think."

Catherine wondered how he would discipline her.  Pat's father, although her
client, was a powerful man who could make trouble for them.  "Have you
talked to Michelene?"

William nodded.  "He was grateful for our taking care of him.  He said that
he thought it might be rough for Pat, but he never even thought about the
fact that his son earned his first black belt at age ten.  He apologized
for that.  We probably need to add a question about martial arts training
to our interview form."

They had been carefully dancing around the issue, so Catherine decided to
take the issue head on.  "What about me?  What do you plan to do about me?" 
He gave her a quizzical look.  She exhaled and said "Are you going to
punish me for this?  Demote me, take away my privileges of rank?"  Her
voice got small.  "Make me leave?"

He had her in his arms before she could blink.  "Hell, no.  You know I
don't punish you for the real things.  You're too good at punishing 
yourself.  Besides, if what happened in the dungeon was real, it would stop
being fun.  What you and I do with our whips, leathers and restraints is
just another way of making love.  If I punished you in our dungeon for
real, it really would be a perversion.  It would be rape.  I can't do that
to you or to us."  Catherine broke down and cried.  He held her for a long
time, and then, when she had calmed, he took her to bed.

Father and Son Reunion II

In the two days since he had told Dina to lose the pills, he had learned a
lot about pain and a lot about Dina.  He swore he could take his pulse by
counting the throbbing reverberations in his ass.  In the four days since
the incident, the cuts had closed and were healing nicely.  With the
exception of one badly placed cut, the chance of an infection had dwindled
to near zero.  Although Dina let him get away with not taking the pain
killers, she remained adamant about the antibiotics that had been
prescribed.

Dina surprised him.  Away from the Academy, she looked like the All
American pixie.  She wore jeans, loud T-shirts and grubby sneakers.  She
was also a college student working towards a degree in mechanical
engineering at one of the local schools.  She worked at the Academy to pay
for the schooling and to safely satisfy her submissive sexual nature.  He
kept his mind off his bottom by helping her with her math courses.  He
still refused to believe, however, that she had not been faking her
response to him during the oral sex episode at the Academy.  

Michelene let himself into the bed room and had the grace to look abashed
when his son gave him a hard glare.  "Guess you aren't too happy to see me. 
Blame me for the black and blue ass?"

Pat scowled at him.  "Only for part of it.  I should have quit the second
time.  I knew it wasn't working.  I only went the third time because you
always said that the first two might be lucky and the third is probably the
truth of the matter.  I can't go back there, Dad.  What they want me to do,
what they want to do to me, well, it is not right for me."

"Well, if it makes any difference, the basic plan was mine.  I figured if
you overcame the demands of a very strong, very domineering woman, and then
pleasured her in spite of all that, you'd feel successful, victorious.  
The effects of that bitch would have been erased.  I mean, what better way
can there be to learn what best pleases a woman than to be trained by one
who is in absolute control of you and your body.  Simply put, Catherine is
the sexiest, strongest woman I know.  I thought that if anyone could
challenge you, bring out your essential self confidence, she could. 
Knowing the Academy's initial training regimen, I thought that, although
you would not necessarily think it was much fun, you'd eventually get into
it.  Once you saw that you could pleasure a woman you'd recover.  I never
thought you'd be so resistant to their games."

"Now just a minute, Dad.  Do you know what they asked of me, what they made
me do?  By the end of the second session, it was all I could do not to
smash something so they'd know they had gone too far.  I can't believe you
thought I'd enjoy that.

His father gave him a lopsided grin.  "Why not?  I did, and I still do." 
Pat gaped at his father.  "Yes, I have been though everything you have,
although I went into it with my eyes open, looking for a new thrill.  After
your mother died, things quickly got stale.  I have been a slave client to
the Lady Catherine for the past three years.  Typically, I see her at least
once or twice every couple of months.  She is the best.  It is why I chose
to submit to her.  It's why I asked her to help you."

Silence filled the room, each man trying to think of what to say next. 
"What now, then, Pat?"

"I don't know, Dad.  I don't know if I can go back there again without
doing something violent.  I'm trying to control the beast, but she hurt me. 
She hurt me physically and personally.  I can't pretend that it did not
happen and just go back.  I sure as hell don't trust her enough to put
myself in her hands again."

"What about, well, ... you know?"

"I don't know about that, either.  I did get an erection for a while during
that last session.  That was one good thing.  I don't want to think about
it anymore.  It is starting to eat me up and I'm not ready for such
confrontations.  How's things at home?"

Catherine

>>ring ring<<  >>ring ring<<  >>click<<  "Hello?"  A tinny voice answering
her call sounded in the earpiece of her car phone.

"Patrick McDonald?"  She knew it was, but she needed a few extra seconds to
prepare herself for the rejection to come.

"Speaking.  Who is this, please?"  She heard suspicion is his voice.

"Pat, this is Cathy Davis.  Or at least, that is what my driver's license
says.  My professional name is Catherine D'Alambert."

"Lady Catherine."  the voice said with awful finality.

"Yes, Patrick.  Lady Catherine.  I know I am probably the last person you
want to see right now, but I would like to talk to you.  I need to talk to
you.  Could I please have a few minutes of your time?  I'll beg if that
will make easier for you to say yes."

"Why should your begging have any more effect on me than mine had on you
five days ago?"

Keep control, Catherine, don't let him hear how close that one struck to
home; how badly that hurts.  "Because you are in full possession of your
faculties now and I was not.  Because maybe you'd like to see me crawl a
bit, because maybe you'd enjoy taking a few verbal potshots at me, and
maybe, just maybe, because I want to help you more than anyone else in the
world."  She was pleased at how steady her voice was.

A long silence ensued.  Catherine feared she'd lost her man or her
connection.  Interference crackled in his ear.  "Okay, can you come over
right now?  It's almost time for my pain pill and I'm not good for anything
after that."  O god, he was still on pills?  She was sure he was one of
those stupid stoics who wouldn't take pain killers once they were strong
enough to push the drugs away.  He was still hurting that badly?

"I'll be right over."  She hung up and got out of her car.  She had called
from the parking lot at his condominium complex so he wouldn't have time to
change his mind.  She did a quick check of her appearance in her car's
window.  Jeans, green cowl-neck, oversized sweater and platform sandals
were combined with only the most subtle of cosmetics and a loose pony tail. 
It was as close as she could get to girl-next-door non-threatening.  

Dina buzzed her in at the lobby, and then let her into his condo. 
Whispering, Catherine asked when his next pain pill was due.

"Pain pill?  He hasn't taken one of those in three days.  Damn fool male." 
He'd lied to her, the sneak.  She should have expected it.  Dina continued. 
"He hasn't slept the entire night since, either."  Then she grinned.  "My
math grades have definitely taken a turn for the better, though.  When he
can't sleep, he calls me in and drills me on my calculus.  That man has a
lot of top in him, a real natural slave driver.  Go on, now, get in there. 
I'll bring in some tea in a while to break the tension, just in case it
gets bad."

Shoo-ed into the lion's den and then offered protective cover by her own
private bottom.  How the mighty have fallen.  She paused in the doorway to
look at Pat.  He was on his stomach, with his head at the foot of the bed. 
He was covered from shoulder to hip with a comforter, and from thigh to
foot with a blanket.  A tent, made of pillows and another blanket kept
drafts off his ass but did not tough the still tender skin.  "Hello,
Patrick."  she said in a small voice from the door.  His head snapped up in
surprise.  "I know, I got here quick.  How are you?"

His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Oh, I'm just wonderful.  I can barely
walk, can't sit and can't sleep.  I have had no privacy for  five days.  I
can't even take a shit in privacy because I can't stand to sit on the seat
and because one particularly nasty cut is right on my anus.  It has to be
cleaned  with antiseptic after each time.  For god's sake, how do you think
I am?  I hurt, every minute of the day.  Any other bright questions?  You
should know how I feel, you did it to me."

She entered and drew herself up to her full height, facing him directly. 
"You have  little reason to believe me and even less to trust me, but on my
honor, I have never done anything like that before.  I will never do
anything like that again.  Believe it or not, my clients leave my care
fully mobile and undamaged.  Oh, they may have a tender bottom and some
sore muscles,  but they leave me completely satisfied and happy with the
experience.  I am very good at what I do, Patrick.  I take great pride in
taking care of my clients darkest and most hidden needs in a caring and
safe manner."

"How did I get so lucky as to be your one fall from grace?"

She frowned and then looked pointedly at the chair near the bed where Dina
sat when he drilled her on her math.  He tried to give an indifferent shrug
in response to unspoken request.  The torso movement pulled at unhealed
tissue, making him grimace for control.  She sat down.  "I was failing with
you and I knew it.  Your father felt you needed to be challenged, to
overcome adversity.  We agreed, as did our consulting psychologist.  We put
you into our standard introductory sequence of scenes, we call them
lessons, and from the first minute, it was disastrous."

"You never figured out that it was supposed to be play.  We, no, I didn't
recognize a very important fact.  You weren't there for the pure pleasure
of the scene.  You weren't the typical client looking for a gentle
introduction into submission.  

"You never relaxed or even tried to get into the game.  You never tried to
enjoy the play.  Eventually, once you were open to us, the plan was to take
you down to a basic level of submission, reinforce your lovemaking
techniques in the venue of the sessions and wait for your natural self
confidence to reassert itself.  The goal was for you to "fight" your way
out of the submissive role and get back to how you were.  But I just
couldn't reach you."

Patrick considered this for a moment.  "You mean that paddling I got two
weeks ago was introductory level stuff?  I can't imagine going to the next
levels.  Although,"  he glanced over his shoulder at the tent, "Maybe I
already have."

Catherine's temper flared momentarily and she tamped it down.  "I've
already told you that was unique and a tragic mistake.  As for the
paddling, that wasn't per script, either.  Normally, what we do is a very
gentle, very sensual over the knee spanking.  Somewhat embarrassing, but
that is part of the excitement.  All of our women clients and most of the
men achieve orgasm during the spanking.  Those that don't cum during the
actual spanking are brought to orgasm before they leave the session.  

"In your case, you were fighting so hard, that I thought you might be one
of a rare group who demand that they be overpowered, physically, before
they can give up control.  I elected to paddle you for that reason.  Being
perfectly honest, that is as extreme a corporal session as you will see in
the day to day operation of the Academy."  She shook her head.  "You
frightened me, because you did not react to the paddling at all.  It meant
you were either an extreme sort of masochist, which we do not serve at the
Academy, or that I had read the situation completely wrong.  One look at
the rage on your face and I knew that I had messed up, big time.

"Then I modified that last scene, too.  I had to get you to relax.  I put
you into a pretty strict suspension, but kept the game really light.   My
idea was if it was inevitable, you might just lay back and enjoy it.  And
it was working.  You were getting into it, getting really turned on, and
then, you freaked.  Maybe I should not have gone on with the anal
penetration, but it was in the basic script.  Even the most sexually
repressed male gets hard as a rock once that tickler hits his prostate, so
I figured that would be the case with you and I elected to proceed.  Then,
you turned into Tarzan on me.  I couldn't get you down and I knew that I
had lost you completely.  I freaked.  I don't remember much after that
until I lost my grip on the whip and I tripped in surprise."

Patrick snorted.  "I kicked your whip out of your hand and I tripped you."

She nodded.  "That's what William thought.  I wasn't sure.  The rest you
know.  I've taken a leave of absence from work for two reasons.  The first
is that I have to deal with what I did to you.  Work's not much fun right
now.   I keep flashing back to that scene with you.  And Dina needs to go
back to school full time, so someone has to take care of you."

"Oh, no, not you.  I'll get my father to hire someone.  I am not going to
tolerate you in my life anymore.  Uh Uh, no way."

"There's two problems with that idea.  First, do you really want an
outsider seeing you in that condition?  They will assume you were a willing
participant and a pervert.  Secondly, your father won't accept calls from
you until I tell him to. You're stuck.  Dina leaves today, regardless of
what you say about me.  You need help and I'm your only option.  Think
about it."  She stood up and left the room.

Dina was concerned when she heard how the interview had gone.  "I don't
think this is a good idea, milady.  Suppose he won't accept your help?  He
is strong enough now to fight you off.  He is still prone to infection in
that one cut.  We could restrain him, but that will only solve the
infection problem and he'll never come back once you free him."

Catherine kissed her submissive on the tip of her nose.  "I know, love.  If
I can't reach him by tonight, I'll surrender the field and call in May for
the remainder of his convalescence.  Now git, before I chase you out of
here with a wooden spoon."  Dina giggled at the thought, and flushed
sexily.  She looked up at her Mistress with such longing that Catherine
laughed for the first time in days.  "Oh, you little slut,"  the
affectionate tone out of keeping with the words, "Get out of here or you
won't get spanked for two weeks."  That threat got Dina moving.  Soon, she
was alone with her thoughts and with the man suffering from her mistakes.

A crash in the bedroom, followed by a pained groan audible through the
closed door brought Catherine hurrying to Pat's side a couple of hours
later.  He was sprawled on the floor beside the chair he had evidently used
to hold himself upright. 

Helping him get his feet under him again was complicated because he still
had trouble bending at the hip.  Once up, he hobbled back to his bed, and
resettled himself in his tent.  She watched him carefully and then sat back
down beside him.  "What were you doing?"  He remained silent.  "If you
ignore me, I will have to assume you went to the toilet and that your butt
needs to be treated.  Since I know you can physically stop me, I will be
forced to call in someone who can knock you out so that I can check.  Hard
way or easy, Pat.  Your choice."

"I had to pee.  I don't need to be cleaned."  She lifted an eyebrow at him,
and he flushed to his red hair.  "I promise, okay?  As you said, the last
thing I want is for someone to see me like this, which will happen if my
ass becomes badly infected."  He shot her a black look.  "I guess I have no
choice.  I am stuck with you."

"Certainly no choice you will find more pleasant.  It's me or the hospital,
I'm sad to say."  She did not sound all that sad to Pat.  "I'll be back in
a minute."  She returned with a light snack which she set between them on
the bed, obviously intending to share it with him.  "Ready to talk now?"  

"About what?"

"About what originally brought you to your father and to the Academy.  Your
recovery, remember?"

"So, what about it?"  He was not giving an inch.  Catherine supposed that,
given the condition he was in and who had done it to him, she could
understand that.  It just made things so much harder when he wouldn't give
her an opening.

"So, it is still undone.  We didn't accomplish anything but get you and
several of my monitors hurt."

Patrick frowned.  "I am sorry about that.  I did try and pull my kicks,
nothing disabling, just what was necessary to keep them off me.  I hope I
didn't hurt anyone badly.  I was not really in full control."

"Nothing serious.  A few bruises and sore jaws.  Scenes can go sour
sometimes.  Submissives panic or the dominant misses a cue and help is
needed to stabilize the situation.  The guys will be more careful the next
time they enter a sour scene, so that is some good.  I am surprised,
though, that you only tripped me when I was the cause."

"I guess you can thank my martial arts training not to use more force than
necessary.  Also, my father's training not to intentionally harm a woman. 
I protected myself without harming you."  He broke off his speech and gave
her a penetrating look.  "You still haven't told me what you are really
after today."

"I told you the truth.  I'm going to get you back on your feet.  Think of
it as penance.  I also want to talk to you about what we do next."

"WE aren't going to do anything.  I am going to get on with my life.  Which
will not include you or your damned Academy."

"That's not very clear thinking, Pat.  You still need help and we will see
that you get it.  Okay, we did not go about it correctly before.  You are
significantly different from your father regardless of what he thinks.  You
are far more the natural dominant than he is.  He works at it in his
professional and public life, but in his darkest fantasies, in the place
where his soul is free, he comes to me for loving domination.  He needs the
freedom from choices and decisions he finds in my dungeon.  You can't
relate to that because that's not your nature.  You find no stress relief
from the removal of decisions and responsibility.  Simply put, you never
stopped fighting me for control of the scene.  Even when you tried to go
along, you still couldn't let go."

"Okay, so what if you're right, where does that mean to me?"

"You should come back and try with us again.  New rules.  You'll still be
training as a submissive, but we'll cut back on the surprises, explain
carefully what is planned so that your self protection instincts don't
flare up.  It's not as exciting a session for a true bottom, but you aren't
one.  You'll still be restrained, tested, trained and disciplined, but with
your full understanding and concurrence each step of the way.  One word
from you and the scene ends.  Our introductory sequence of lessons is so
mild, so simple, that the dominant instructing the new client can easily
adjust the scene depending on where the client's head is.  We don't need
safety code words until a client is involved in more advanced scenes. 
However, in your case, we will give you that bolt hole from now on.  You'll
still try all the scenes we've planned for you, but we will always honor
the stop code and we won't force the scene any further."

"And what if it still doesn't work?  What if I can't handle being with you,
in particular, or if I can't let go enough to benefit from your training? 
What if I can't accept the role of bottom for your little games?"

"Then, I will step aside and we will try another Instructress.  If
necessary, we will have an non-dominant work with you under the supervision
of a trained therapist.  We do think that our way has the fastest payback. 
And we want to succeed.  We haven't failed before and we don't want to
now."

"What's in it for me?  Why should I bother with you?  In a few days, I walk
out of here and I go to my dad.  If he won't help me, I go somewhere else. 
Why should I trust you again?"

"You never trusted me."  She fought to keep the bitterness out  of her
voice.  "That's part of our problem.  I expected you to trust me like my
regular clients do, but I forgot that you really had no reason to.  When I
went into my Mistress Persona right from the start, you closed up to
protect yourself.  You were there because your father sent you, not because
you wanted to be there or because you trusted me.  But to answer your first
question, two things.  First, successful recovery of your self confidence,
your self image and your ability to function a lover again."  

She watched his eyes.  Nothing, no hint of reaction.  Not a glimmer of what
he was thinking or what he might do.  Okay, time for the big gun.  "As part
of your instruction, we agree to train you as a dominant in our type of
scene.  You already have the inclination and the will, but you lack the
knowledge and experience necessary to carry off a safe, exciting scene. 
All of our Academy staff dominants are initially trained as submissives so
they understand the entire scene.  Bottom line?  You complete your
training.  You get all the way back.  Then, as a graduation present, I will
give you my ass."  

His inhalation was audible, but she shushed him with a finger on his lips. 
"On the day William says you're ready, we go to that room again, and we
lock the door.  No monitors, no observation, just you and me."  Her voice
took on a whispery, dreamy tone.  "Think about it, Pat.  Think about me
dressed or undressed as you order; bound as you direct.  What you say goes;
whatever you want to do to and with me, however you want to do it."  

Her voice changed back to her conversational tone.  "It'll be your scene
and I'll be on the bottom.  You want to give me a safe word, fine.  You
want to take me to the limits with no safety net?  That's fine too.  You
see, unlike your concern about trusting me, I trust you.  You could have
hurt me badly that night.  You were not even in control of yourself or your
emotions, and you still did not hurt me.  I am absolutely positive that I
will walk out of any scene with you as my top under my own power, having
taken no significant hurt.  I trust you."  Her face was completely clear of
any anxiety at all; her voice strong and confident.

"So, that's what's in it for you.  Retribution, retaliation or just plain
fun.  Your decision.  IF you come back, and IF you finish the training to
the best of your ability.  Well, what do you say?"  She realized she was
holding her breath, and forced in a lungful of air.

He said nothing.  He said nothing for a very long time and it was all she
could do not to fidget.  "I have to think about it.  I don't know if I can
go back there."  He sighed in confusion.  "I just have to think about it." 
He thought for another moment.  "I guess you can stay, if that's what you
want.  I'd like to be alone now, please.

Catherine stood and walked to the bedroom door. She turned to say something
more, but thought better of it.  She left without further comment.