The Academy Ch. 2bySateema Lunasi©
Chapter 2: It Cannot Be Personal
It cannot be personal. I try not to let it be personal, but sometimes there is that one person who makes it personal and there is nothing in Hell, Heaven or Earth that can stop it. For me, everything here is business, a well oiled machine that functions with my supervision. I take pride in it and I do care for my students, my slaves and the trainers. However, I fall easily. All it took was one look from him, one touch and I was his, always his. I belonged to Gabriel.
I would never have taken Gabriel as a trainer. He is older than the others. He is different. He is unconventional. With him, there is never a thought of disobeying, never a hint of disrespect from a student. It is not that his slaves are perfectly trained. It is that they adore him. They worship him. They will do anything to make him smile. It was Julian, the blue eyed French trainer, who hired Gabriel as a trainer at The Academy. I scoffed at the choice before meeting Gabriel. I* saw his references. He had very few. He had no professional photos, no resume, no connections. He was nothing to me. I trusted Julian though and I agreed to let him stay on a trial basis. If I did not like him in 6 weeks, I would fire him on the spot.
I had been inspecting new equipment with a supplier from New York City when I first met Gabriel. It had been a week after his arrival and I had been so busy, I had not been able to meet him. The supplier, Gray, one of the best leather and bondage equipment custom specialists from the Americas, was demonstrating to me how a new swing would be used in the garden. He was fixing the brass fixtures to a metal casing embedded in a tree trunk and snapping the leather bindings closed.
Two of my new students were here to help demonstrate, Kayla and Ryan. The two were strapped into the harness of the equipment and Gray instructed them on how to use it properly. I was not sure I liked this piece. It made their bodies seem contorted, not graceful the way I liked them. Kayla had been a ballerina. It was a shame to take away her graceful lines. I stood in the honeysuckle filled grove with my arms akimbo, an eyebrow raised and checking my watch for the time to indicate my hurry, and then I saw him.
Gabriel. He simply strolled along in the garden grove, the courtyard fountain of Venus rising from the foam seeming like chittle behind him. He had a slave with him. Serena, luscious girl with large and beautiful breasts. He followed her closely behind, casually. He was teaching her to walk gracefully, a trait I always admired in a slave. It was not the student I was captivated with. It was no one but Gabriel. This man has a presence like a gentle king. He is an Irishman, from my homeland, only he is from the East and I am from the West. His stature is commanding, perhaps six feet and two inches tall, his frame athletic and tapered, his hair thick and as dark as black ink. His face is tinted by the sun, the fine lines at the corners of his mouth the only sign of his age. I could look at nothing but him. The sunlight shone on the dark hairs at his wrists and the hair glistened like silk, the masculinity of him amazing. He looked up then and I saw his eyes. I felt a shiver in me, the deep and ocean blue of his eyes like pools I could drown in.
He fixed those blue eyes on me a long moment and smiled wickedly at me. I watched silently and my world fell apart as he walked away. For hours, days, weeks, I thought of nothing but Gabriel. He consumed my thoughts, my actions, my body and my soul. The worst part was, I had no idea why. How could a man make me feel that way? He had simply looked at me. I was not a blushing girl. Why was this happening to me? I could not eat, I could not sleep. My attention to the students and the trainers was only a fraction of what it should be. I sequestered myself in my rooms for three days and told myself I would forget about these silly thoughts I was having about this man. I could think only of giving myself to him, being subservient to him, hearing his voice command me...and I had no voice to match with his face.
On that third day in my room, I woke to a strange sensation. Dreams of Gabriel filled my mind and I woke touching myself. I sat up in my bed and felt the heat on my skin. I stood up slowly, my lace trimmed nightgown feeling like a casket surrounding me, and swallowing my pride, I made my way slowly down the hallway, down the stairs and to Gabriel's room. His door was open, as if he had been waiting for me. I saw the light of the candle in his room, an orange glow that he read a book by. He sat up in bed, his body amazing by the candle light. The light worshipped him.
“Miss Lily...” he said, “Are you not well?"
"Not well without you. I am making a confession, Gabriel. I need you...I don’t know why or how...or..."
"You need me..."
"Yes....I will do as you say...anything...to be yours, if only just for tonight.”
I saw that smile again, almost cruel, as if he had cast a spell on me to come to him. He rose from his bed, the white satin sheets slipping off his frame and revealing his lean body, a bronzed chest scattered with dark wiry hairs, his thighs muscular and perfectly sculpted. I felt a flush heat my face. He came to me slowly and looked me over, my eyes, my throat, my breasts, the bit of exposed skin at my midriff beneath the scalloped lace. I felt my nipples harden and I knew his eyes were on me, watching me. I closed my eyes and felt his heat against me, his hands on my shoulders and the pressure there. He was pushing me down, to my knees. Defeated, my knees touched the hardwood floor and I felt his hand on my hair. I kissed his thighs, the muscles twitching there and I felt his cock come to life, hardening beneath my touch.
“That’s it, my sweet angel...take it in your mouth. Show me you are a good girl...” he said to me. I obeyed without hesitation and took his organ in my mouth. His salty, velvet taste was wonderful and I drew him in. For the first time in my life, I begged a man, gave myself completely, wanted to belong to him. I might hate him for it in the morning, but now he was my master. He had had enough of my moth pleasuring him and he wanted to taste my breasts. The lace of my gown tore beneath his hands, my breasts were free and he devoured me. His mouth sucked and pulled at me, almost painfully and I moaned at the pleasure and pain of it.
“Be my slave, Lily...” he said breathlessly, “Be mine and serve me by night, and no one will know what I have made of you.”
I think I screamed it, or maybe I whispered it...it sounded to me like a scream. “Yes.”
He tossed me onto my stomach like a rag doll, and he took me with no hesitation, clinching to my hair and riding me to a fevered sweat. This was ritual now. This was a ceremony. He was claiming me, making me his, and I submitted to him with all my soul.
“I will hate you tommorow for this...I will punish you and make your life here hell.” I warned as he thrust into me.
“Make my life Hell by day, Miss lily, but I will be your Hell by night.”
I had never heard more passionate words. To me, it sounded like warm honey. Gabriel has been my weakness, my prison, and my joy. Still, I cannot refuse him, cannot deny him any pleasure. By day, I am the Mistress of this place, yet, by night, I kneel to him and obey his every command. I cannot imagine it any other way. My Gabriel...my angel.