Irina Is Sent to School

Irina leant back in her seat and knew that she could never really describe the incredible pleasure of travelling by private jet. The sheer unadulterated luxury never failed to sooth her. As she gazed out of the window she thought of about her life. The reason for the jet was simple; she was Sergei Frunze's girlfriend. The upside of this was obvious; Sergei was a delight to live with and he had an almost unreal charisma that she had never experienced with anyone else. When he turned on the charm she doubted anyone could resist him. There was also no denying that his money and power were powerful aphrodisiacs. Irina didn't know the extent of Sergei's operations but she could guess, they were the normal suspects of drugs, prostitution, protection and almost inevitably substantial stakes in Russia's largest natural resource companies, doubtless obtained in some very murky deals during the 'privatisations'.

There were stories about what happened to those who got on the wrong side of him, but Irina had never seen the evidence and closed her eyes to what he might capable of. The cash, the cars, the unlimited clothes allowance and the social prestige were very good reasons for turning a blind eye. But at the back of her mind there was the nagging insecurity over if he would trade her in for a younger model. Sergei had also made it plain that she had to be totally submissive in the bedroom. This was difficult at times but she knew the score and accepted it as a price to be paid for her incredible lifestyle.

In fact, Irina was still very uncomfortable from Sergei's demands from the previous night. He had arrived home obviously terribly frustrated and curtly told her to go to their bedroom and 'prepare herself'. Irina knew what this meant and ran upstairs and stripped naked and sat on the bed, legs well spread. Sergei entered the room with a ball gag and some red rope from his 'box of tricks'. Irina allowed herself to be gagged and clambered onto the bed. Sergei got her to lay face down with a pillow under her stomach and then methodically tied her wrists and ankles and attached them to the four corners of the bed. Irina was now totally helpless. Sergei grabbed her thighs and roughly fucked her, this was not romantic, she literally felt Sergei working out his frustration on her prostrate body. Sergei called it a 'punishment fuck' for when she had misbehaved. Again and again, harder than ever, he penetrated her. Irina squealed with pain, but Sergei didn't stop until he came with explosive force. Finished he did not release her, he merely said he had some calls to make and left.

Alone Irina rapidly cooled down and she felt Sergei's cum dribble down her thighs. Her arms and legs began to ache. About an hour later Sergei returned, still bristling with anger and this time took her anally, if anything more forcefully. Finished, he walked off without a word. Irina expected him to return so they could have dinner together, but she waited in vain. She was tied in a very awkward position that made her bonds extremely painful, but somehow she managed to get a few hours sleep.

At eight o'clock the next morning her maid softly knocked at her door bringing her morning cappuccino, hearing nothing she gingerly opened the door and saw her mistress. She was about to close the door in embarrassment when Irina's desperate grunting alerted her to her mistress's distress. The maid tried to avert her eyes as she undid the knots and literally ran from the room when she had released Irina's hands. Irina spent an age in the bath and somehow by lunchtime she was feeling fit enough to get to the airport.

Irina's dreaming was interrupted as the incompetent air stewardess served her a cup of brown liquid. It tasted awful. How could the bitch be quite so useless? The only cold liquid she served was red wine and the only hot drink was champagne. She would simply have to go. Irina waved her over and acidly asked, "Natasha, if this is tea, can I please have a cup of coffee, if it is coffee can I please have a cup of tea."

As she waited, she thought about her destination. Sergei had asked her to attend a course given by 'Cartwright and Palmer' in their dacha outside Moscow. He had not been very forthcoming about what the course would entail, but Irina got the distinct impression it had something to do with sex or perhaps stripping. One way or another she knew she could not refuse; Sergei had a look that would tolerate no contradiction. Anyway two weeks couldn't be too bad and if it was sex, a better technique would only bind Sergei closer to her. In fact she was quite looking forward to it.

Irina was picked up from Domodedovo in some sleek but anonymous Mercedes. Initially they tore along the Kashirskoye highway, but after they turned off the main roads, the countryside seemed to get more forbidding. The woods let in very little natural light and Irina found her morale gradually falling. Suddenly the chauffeur slowed down and stopped at an industrial looking security gate. After a brief conversation they were let in. The countryside then opened up and they soon came to a magnificent pre-revolutionary dacha.

Irina was escorted to reception, where after giving her name she was invited to go to Miss Kaledin's office. She was impressed by the décor, which was very much in keeping with the age of the house; many of the paintings being of aristocrats in their court uniforms. It just reeked of the sort of exclusivity one normally only finds in the very best of five start hotels. Perhaps this would not be such a bad place to spend a few weeks after all.

Irina's host Valeriya Kaledin was also in a thoughtful mood. She was not looking forward to training Sergei Frunze's girlfriend. Even if Irina closed her eyes, Valeriya knew that behind Sergei's bountiful charm he had a pretty sinister reputation. When she had got his initial letter asking her to train his girlfriend, she almost refused out of hand. Eventually wiser heads prevailed, but Valeriya wrote back in fairly blunt terms describing the course and what the students were expected to do. In response she received an extremely nice letter thanking her for her frankness and saying he understood and Irina should not be given any special favours. Valeriya felt she could not refuse him, but she was still very nervous.

Valeriya knew something of Irina's background, she had seen photos of her in her twenties and Irina was as near perfect as a girl could be. There was even speculation at one point that she would marry into one of the Scandinavian Royal houses. Irina had lived the good life for almost twenty years with a string of rich and powerful boyfriends, but age was catching up with her. Valeriya doubted Irina had been given much choice about attending the course.

Cartwright and Palmer had two types of student; whores and oligarch's girlfriends. The former were sometimes a little seedy but were no real trouble, they were either directly or indirectly paying for the course themselves and wanted to learn all they could. The girlfriends could be a pain, a bunch of spoiled prima donnas most of them. Valeriya had thrown about a dozen off the course so far that year. But the applications kept coming in; it was clearly the fashionable thing to get one's girlfriend trained as a slave. She had already doubled her fees, but this seemed to have no effect at all on the demand. Valeriya just knew she was going to dislike Irina, but five years managing the office had just about taught her diplomacy and she hoped she could hide her distaste. She looked up to Heaven and knew she was earning her salary.

Valeriya rose when Irina was shown into her office. The woman was as beautiful and elegant as she had expected and simply exuded confidence. Irina's blonde hair was neatly cut in a bob, whilst her designer suit was cut to make the most of her stunning figure. Valeriya smiled, "Irina Ivanovna, a pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands and Valeriya motioned Irina to sit, "Welcome to Cartwright and Palmer."

They then exchanged insincere small talk about Irina's trip, before Valeriya got down to business, "The course you are attending is often referred to as 'Slave school'. It is designed to teach students how to be submissive and we hope to guide them on how to give their boyfriends and girlfriends great pleasure. As Mr Frunze has inevitably told you, the course is very sex orientated, but I still hope you will enjoy your time with us. This said, I will expect you to obediently follow my instructions, and those of your tutors, however demeaning they may appear. Failure will, I am afraid, mean immediate expulsion from the course. There are just a few formalities to go through before I show you around the dacha." She pulled out a printed form that was already partially filled out. "I am afraid some of the questions might sound a little personal, but I am sure you understand why we need the information. Right, age?"

"Forty-one." Valeriya was surprised she wouldn't have guessed more than thirty one, but she mused that thousands spent on beauty products had been put to good use.

"Irina, first rule, you must address me 'Mistress'."

"Sorry, Mistress."

"Sexual orientation?"

"Straight, Mistress."

"Any gay experiences?"

"I was seduced by a teacher aged eighteen, but not since."

"I think that counts as a 'no'. Mr Frunze has asked us to refresh your memory. Statistics?"

"86, 65, 89, Mistress."

"Breasts, natural or enhanced?"

"Natural."

"Sexually transmitted diseases in the last two years?"

"None."

Valeriya corrected her, with more than a touch of asperity, "Irina you must call me Mistress. I won't remind you again. Now, have you ever worked in the sex industry?"

"No, Mistress."

"Ever had anal sex?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Frequently?"

"No, Mistress."

"Both cock and dildos?"

"I have never used a dildo, Mistress."

"Oral sex?"

"Yes, but not by choice, Mistress."

"Irina, you can't be so precious. Your Master has ever right to expect a decent blowjob."

"I understand, Mistress."

"Right, now please remove all your clothes."

Irina couldn't believe what she had just heard. She looked at Valeriya in disbelief. They silently stared at each other, neither willing to back down, "Irina, please don't make me repeat myself." Irina recognised the steely look of determination in Valeriya's eyes. She also knew Sergei would go ballistic if she quit or was thrown off the course, she had no choice.

Irina stepped away, turned her back and started to take off her clothes. Removing her jacket, shoes and stockings were easy and Irina used the time to compose herself. She used up more precious minutes by carefully folding her clothes on the chair provided. She shivered as she lowered his skirt. Now it came to just her bra and panties. She swallowed hard and reached behind her back and removed her bra and then quickly slipped her knickers down her long legs. She could not believe she had done it, but now she was naked. She turned around and summoning all her inner strength she walked back to Valeriya's desk. She pushed her breasts out, she would not be intimidated. She tried to imagine she was wearing a swimming costume and everything was really quite normal. But it was not normal, and she knew it.

Valeriya could not help but admire Irina's bearing; there had been no pleading or threats. Now she saw Irina's figure, it was impressive, very impressive for a forty-one year old. Her tits were still firm and her stomach was perfectly flat. She also had undeniable elegance and grace.

Irina sat down, it took all her self control not to try and cover her crotch or tits with her arms. She gripped the chair's arms and kept her legs apart in what she hoped was a relaxed pose.

Valeriya scrawled 'Brazilian' in another box. After carefully checking she hadn't missed anything she passed the form over to Irina, "Could you please check I have got your details correct. There is some small print on the back. You should read it and if you are happy sign and date it, in the box at the bottom of the page. I am afraid it is in legalese, but essentially it says that you confirm that you are here of your own free will, that you will accept corporal punishment and partake in sexual relations with whoever your tutors choose."

Irina was shocked but read the paper with care, even though she knew she would sign in the end. It was pretty frightening stuff and she realised they could horribly abuse her if they chose. Her signature didn't have her normal vigour, but somehow she managed to sign herself into slavery for the next two weeks.

"Thank you. Now we just need a couple of photographs for the file." Valeriya motioned her over to a corner of the office. "Hands behind your head, legs about eighteen inches apart." A blinding flash. "Turn around, same pose." Another flash.

Valeriya waited for the prints to come out of the machine and seemed satisfied as she returned to her desk. She then pulled out a plastic bag, "Irina, you will wear a uniform when you are with us. Please put it on." Irina could barely restrain herself as she tore the bag open. It contained some brief black knickers, a black T shirt and a very short pleated black satin skirt. She felt an incredible sense of relief as she sat down, at least partially clothed.

"You will notice the T shirt has the number 101 embroidered on it. That will be your 'slave number' for your stay." She then passed over a white vinyl collar about an inch wide, "Please put it on. You should wear this collar when you are out in the public parts of the building. The colour indicates that you are a student and so not available to our paying customers."

With that she brought the interview to an end and summoned an assistant to take Irina to her room.

Valeriya leant back in her chair and thought that training Irina could in fact be a lot of fun. They had a constant stream of slaves to be taught; willing and unwilling, young and old, accommodating and the difficult, experienced and virgins, but Irina had an elegance that she not help but admire and none of the petulant arrogance she was expecting. It was now her responsibility to turn her into a proper slave.

Valeriya always observed potential slaves carefully; the arrogant she would humiliate immediately, she enjoyed taking every scrap of designer clothing from the girlfriends or boyfriends of the rich and famous and explaining exactly what slavery really meant. If they were difficult she would get the firm's doctor to undertake totally unnecessary internal examinations and then parade them naked through the dacha. Irina was a different case; she had no desire to abuse her. She knew Irina would submit, and somehow do it with grace and dignity.

Irina was impressed with her room. It was large, overlooked the Park and still had many of the original Czarist features. Despite these comfortable surroundings her sleep on the first night was fitful. She was worried, scared even. She woke early and dressed in the only clothes available; the Cartwright and Palmer uniform of black T shirt and satin skirt. After a solitary breakfast she was directed to Schoolroom B. The room was about twenty by thirty feet, with six desks at one end and a bed at the other. Irina saw she had five fellow students, all dressed in the same uniform, sitting patiently at their desks.

She sat at the only free desk and leant over to her right to introduce herself to the handsome boy sitting next to her.

"I'm Kit, Mistress," he replied

"Kit, I am not your Mistress. I am here for the same reason as you; to learn how to be a slave." Irina smiled; the poor boy was obviously petrified. His conversation was almost incoherent, but she felt he had a good heart. She was very curious to know if his 'owner' was male or female, but with his constant jabbering she never found the opportunity to ask.

Irina's companion on her left was a slim Russian girl with her hair cut in a boyish side parting. She was pretty and Irina thought she was about Kit's age. The girl seemed friendly and said her name was 'Lara'. Her accent was remarkably refined, but when Irina tried to probe her about her background she became evasive. She seemed so delicate that Irina wondered if she would be able to last the course.

In the second row there were Grigory and Pavel, both were clearly owned by the same person. They very much kept themselves to themselves. There was also a blonde prostitute called Ulyana who was so stupid and fluffy that Irina had an almost irresistible urge to slap her and tell her to get a grip of herself. The urge seemed to take hold about once every twenty minutes, gradually morphing from a slap to full-on garrotting.

Valeriya quietly entered the room, cleared her throat and when she was sure she had her audience's attention she started, "Welcome to Cartwright and Palmer. We often refer to this course as 'Slave school', this gives a fair indication its content. You are all here to learn how to serve your masters or mistresses. They will each have their own preferences that you must get to know and learn how to satisfy. But we will try to teach you many of the basic services that all slaves should know about. I will be taking much of the course and your owners have made it plain that you should obey me as if they were giving the commands. You will call me 'Mistress'. Understood?"

Irina said, and the rest of the class mumbled, "Yes, Mistress."

"Right let's start with some admin. Irina and Kit, you are with us for our short course which takes two weeks. The rest of you are to be trained to offer services on a commercial basis, so you will be with us for a further two weeks."

Valeriya handed out copies of a paperback book entitled, 'The duties of a slave', "This is your Bible. The behaviour described in these pages must become second nature to you."

"Submission, submission, submission." Valeriya preached, "Many people can be taught to do what they are told, particularly if they like doing it. We are going to train you to submit when you hate what your master or mistress orders. Further we will get you to anticipate their wants and desires. By the end of the course you will understand you sole aim in life is to give your master or mistress pleasure and we will train you so you can do it. The course will cover the following topics, each of which will be taught by an expert in the field; sex, domestic service, role play, punishments, erotic dance, demeanour and deportment, the art of the blowjob and massage. By the end of next week you will be an expert in all of these."

"As I said we will spend a major part of the course on sex, simple in theory but we will teach you how to be much more creative and energetic than you ever were before. Then we will look at the discipline that your owners will expect of you and finally ways your owners may wish to cause you pain or humiliation."

"Sex is a practical subject, so I will need you to participate in many of the demonstrations. I warn you in advance these demonstrations will involve a high level of intimacy. Slaves are often expected to be seen in public either naked or in skimpy underwear. Therefore you will all have to learn to suppress your natural modesty about your own nudity."

"To start with let's look at the standard slave positions. Irina, if you would help me please. Take off your skirt and panties and bend over your desk." Irina wiggled out of her skirt and then her knickers and she then leaned over her desk, smiling at Kit, trying to hide her feelings of humiliation.

"Thank you Irina, but a few things; first you must spread your legs, about two feet apart is about right. Then you must bend your back and raise your butt, as if you want to be spanked. That's it Irina, thank you. The rest of you look at how Irina is posing and try to imitate her." Kit could not stop gazing at Irina's pussy, she had shaved her pubes into a perfect 'Brazilian', it looked heavenly. As Irina stood up she saw him staring. But instead of being angry, she smiled as if to say she would have done exactly the same. Despite this, Kit felt a complete fool and started studying the ceiling with some interest.