'57' Ch. 02

"As I said, there will be a period of adjustment. Though I'm pretty sure you'll find the rewards worth the effort." Evan answered her wry grin with one of his own. "As to being exhausted, think of yourself as an athlete... a sexual athlete... and like all athletes you'll have to work on your endurance. That will also be a part of your training."

"Mast... um, Trainer," 57 stumbled a bit over her words as she tried to bring some order to her jumbled thoughts. She felt embarrassed at her inadvertent admission that she was already starting to think of him as more than just her trainer. "I do apologize for being insubordinate...there truly is no excuse for my behavior and I can only say that I'll do my best to ensure that it won't happen again." It shocked her at how sincere she was about that statement. She couldn't remember a time in her life where she could honestly say she had truly meant it when she had apologized.

Evan silently measured her with his gaze for a moment before asking, "Are you ready to get off this table, 57? I think we've interfered with the kitchen's operation enough for today." He held out his hand to help her up.

"Yes, Trainer." She blushed again at the reminder of her punishment, then slipped her comparatively small hand into his larger one and let him help her from the table. After regaining her feet, she self-consciously withdrew her hand from his to go back to her now familiar stance, staring off at the wall, hands behind her back, waiting for instructions to be given.

"Can you tell me what you think you've learned from the events of today, 57?" Evan asked her.

57 Took a moment to collect her thoughts before answering. As was her wont when she was concentrating, she unconsciously pulled her lip into her mouth and chewed on it. Finally formulating her answer, she responded in her still scratchy voice, "Obviously that I should do as I am told, but also that punishments are not always about physical pain."

"That's true," Evan answered. "Simply smacking someone around as punishment is something I regard as crude, unimaginative and often counter-productive. Punishments should be an opportunity to teach something and not simply be something unpleasant for unpleasantness' sake."

"So," Evan continued after a pause, "tell me what you've learned about your new body,"

"Well, it is most definitely not how I recall Lindsey's body reacting to stimulation..." she let her voice trail off slowly, almost horrified at the realization that she had begun to think of herself, not as Lindsey, but as 57. She wasn't sure when she'd finally accepted the dichotomy, but obviously she had and she found that acceptance quite unsettling when she thought about it.

"This body, while frankly amazing," she looked down at her nakedness and continued, "is a lot to handle. I didn't think I was going to be able to hold off my orgasm as long as you wanted me to, but somehow the thought that I'd disappoint you gave me what I needed to hold on." Her truthfulness surprised her. For some reason she couldn't fathom, she had given away her innermost feelings and thoughts, holding nothing back -- without being ordered to. She didn't quite understand where this compulsion came from.

"As I told you before," Evan responded, "you have a deep need to submit. Most would think of that as a weakness but, as you have seen, it can also be a source of strength. I'll tell you that, honestly, I didn't think you had that much strength. Due to your lack of training and experience, I fully expected you to fail my little test, but you exceeded my expectations and of that you should be proud. That's not something that happens often."

While part of her felt warmed by his compliment, 57 frowned, feeling confused that he would intentionally give her a task he expected her to fail. A little nervously, she asked, "Why would you set a test that you didn't think someone could pass? It seems to me that would not be beneficial to the submissive's mind set..." She bit her lip wondering if she had crossed a line by questioning his motives. If that turned out to be the case, she was fully prepared to beg for his forgiveness.

"You don't think there are lessons to be learned from failure?" Evan quirked an eyebrow at her. "I can think of several."

"It isn't that there couldn't be a lesson learned from failure, but to set up a test knowing a person would almost certainly fail seems to serve no purpose other than to cut down that person's confidence. I think all tests should be set up with the expectation of success. If there is a failure it could be easily demonstrated that the failure was not because the person could not perform the task, but would instead serve to highlight what their actual problems are." She blinked wondering, once again, where all that came from. Digging in her inherited memories she knew that Lindsey would speak her mind, but only when specifically asked, volunteering information and thoughts freely like this was foreign to her.

"There is always value in knowing one's capabilities," Evan told her. "Failure to control your arousal would have showed that you still had work to do, thus reinforcing to you your need for training. In your case, success has showed you that you are capable of things you weren't aware of before. Either way, you've learned something about your new body and how it responds and so have I. Would you like me to only set you easy challenges, 57? Where would the reward be in that? I don't see that as a way to push your boundaries and expand your horizons."

"I don't mind your questions, by the way," Evan continued, "as long as you ask them respectfully. As I told you before, I expect you to be an active participant in your training."

"I didn't mean to imply that your challenges should be easy, Trainer. Holding off that orgasm was extremely difficult. I only meant that setting a test where you were 90% sure that a person would fail seemed cruel to me." She lowered her eyes from the spot on the wall to concentrate on the floor.

"Look at me, 57," Evan told her and waited for her to meet his eyes, "As a submissive, cruelty is something you're going to have to deal with every day. Are you telling me that Lindsey's fantasies never involved cruel treatment? Cruelty isn't only physical abuse, such as whipping and caning, it can also be mental, such as setting you up to fail. I have no problem telling you that I will be cruel to you at times. Partly because it's a lesson that you need to learn but also because it's something that I personally enjoy as a Dominant."

She met his ice blue gaze and shivered slightly at its intensity. His words had a physical impact on her body, causing goosebumps to prickle her skin and wetness to pool at the apex of her thighs. She didn't speak, nor answer his question. Partly that was due to the fact that it seemed rhetorical but, additionally, she was having difficulty controlling a sudden wave of white-hot desire that made her blood seem to boil. She had no idea why his simple explanation caused her lust to skyrocket, but it did and it embarrassed her that she had such a visceral response to his words.

"From your reaction, I can see you get my point," Evan said with a knowing grin. "Anything else you'd like to discuss about your punishment and lessons learned, 57?" he asked, still holding her gaze with his.

"No thank you, Trainer," She took slow, steady breaths and tried to regulate her heartbeat. The wetness between her legs, she could do nothing about -- that damage had already been done. She could tell it would soon start running down her the inside of her thighs if she didn't intervene.

"In that case," Evan said, "let me give you your trainee's uniform." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bit of black, lacy fabric.

Looking at what her trainer held out to her, she realized it was a diminutive pair of thong panties. 57 waited for something more, but nothing else was forthcoming. She was aghast at the thought of wearing nothing but this tiny slip of black lace. Once more she felt mortified, but she was fully aware that she had no choice in the matter. Her hand trembling, the only physical sign of her dismay, she took the scrap of fabric from Master Evan and asked quietly, "Should I put it on now Trainer, or should I wait until I've had a chance to shower?"

"You can put them on before we leave here, 57. You might however," Evan said as he walked to a counter to grab some paper towels off a roll before handing them to her, "want to dry off a bit first."

She'd thought that she'd ran through all the shades of red she was capable of turning but, surprisingly, there was at least one more. Cheeks burning, she took the paper towels from Master Evan and cleaned herself up as well as she could. "Thank you, Trainer," she said softly. She slid the tiny garment up her legs and returned to the position of attention.

Seeing she was ready to proceed, Evan said, "Grab your clothes and follow me," and exited the kitchen into the hallway. 57 snatched her clothes from the chair and hurried to catch up. He retraced their earlier steps, now heading toward the front of the house. Halfway there, he stopped in front of an imposing wooden door which bore a brass nameplate with "Master Evan" printed on it in bold black letters.

"This is my office, 57," he told her. "I will expect you to be here tomorrow morning at precisely eight o'clock."

Seeing the brass nameplate with "Master Evan" written on it only reinforced the fact that the man standing in front of her was Master instead of Trainer and she nearly blurted out the wrong title again, but caught herself in the nick of time saying, "Yes sir, Trainer."

"Good... come along, 57," Evan said as he started walking again. Over his shoulder he said, "As I told you before. You're to refer to me as Trainer, until you've earned the right to more. So, no more sirs until I tell you differently. Understood?"

She flinched a bit. She'd not even realized that "sir" had come out. Nodding her head, she said "Yes, Trainer," and padded along silently behind him, her hands gripping her bundle of clothing tightly.

Evan led her up an impressive curving staircase and onto a richly furnished second floor. Thick carpet, expensive paneling and ornate trim were everywhere in evidence. Proceeding to the end of a hallway, Evan opened a nondescript door. Inside, the small room appeared to be a place where cleaning supplies and linens were stored. At the back of the closet-like space was another staircase -- this one considerably less fancy than the previous one. Once more, Evan ascended with 57 in tow.

Reaching the top of the stairs with Master Evan, 57 found herself in a plain, unadorned hallway with simple wood flooring. Spaced along it at intervals were doorways, one of which had "57" written on a piece of paper taped to the door. Turning the knob, Evan pushed it open.

"This is your room," he said.

Inside, she could see a small bed that was little more than a cot, a footlocker, a small dresser with an attached mirror and not much else. The walls were plain off-white and there were no windows. A single light fixture hung from the ceiling providing the room's only illumination.

"You'll find a bathroom and showers at the end of the hall," Evan told her. "You're not to leave this floor without permission."

"Just to clarify, Trainer, I do have permission to leave in the morning in order to reach your office by 8...?" 57's nervousness showed through in her question. She really didn't want a repeat of her punishment from earlier. She had a feeling that she'd actually got off easy on the last one and she doubted she'd be so lucky the next time. She glanced around the small room, taking the furnishings in without really looking at them.

"Of course you have permission, since it's a task I've set for you," Evan answered. "Diana may also inform you of other tasks that you're requested to do. She knows not to assign anything that interferes with mine, so you're to follow her orders too."

"Yes, Trainer," 57 responded softly. She felt nervous and awkward, not really wanting to be left alone in this strange place. Her nervousness made her start to fidget but she forced herself to stop and stood still, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"I'll see you later, 57," Evan said, "Get settled in. Once your training formally starts, you're not going to have much free time." With that, he turned and headed toward the stairs.

From the doorway, 57 surveyed her little room but wasn't in the mood to "settle in" quite yet. She was more in the mood for exploration -- at least of this floor. Perhaps by doing so, she could dissipate some of her nervous energy. After putting her bundle of clothing on the bed, she headed out. Looking up and down the hallway, she counted five doors along its length, three on her side of the hallway and two on the other. Aside from hers, all were closed and only one of them had a similar tag on its door. That other tag read "53". She knocked lightly but there was no response. The remainder of the doors appeared to be locked. Farther down the hallway, she found a door-less alcove containing a washer and dryer.

Past the alcove, the floor changed from wood to white hexagonal tile. 57 entered and found that it opened out into a large communal bathroom and shower area, just as her trainer had told her. Looking around, she saw three sinks with mirrors, three door-less toilet stalls and, hanging on the wall directly in front of her, three urinals. Approaching the latter, she eyed them curiously. She'd never actually seen one in person. Hmm, she thought to herself, They must train males here too. She also concluded from examining the bathroom that whoever had designed it wasn't a big fan of privacy.

Peering to her right, she could see an opening leading into an unpartitioned shower room reminiscent of those she'd used after gym class in school. Flanking the opening were simple wooden shelves containing linen, soap, shampoo, and various cleaning supplies.

Might as well get myself cleaned up, 57 thought to herself. After taking a quick glance around to make sure she was still alone, she slid off her thong and placed it on one of the shelves. She then grabbed what she needed to wash up and headed into the shower. In keeping with the bathroom's theme, there were three shower heads, one on each full wall of the roughly square room.

She selected the shower to her right. She figured there was less chance of someone seeing her there if they walked into the bathroom unannounced. Placing what she'd brought with her in a small tiled niche in the wall, she stood off to the side, turned the knob mounted below the shower head, and adjusted the water temperature until she was satisfied. Then, she stood under the stream and let the warm water cascade over her, trying to wash away some of her nervousness and stress.

With a sigh of semi-contentment, she squirted a bit of shampoo into her palm and worked it into her hair. Like so much else that she'd experienced, her new body's sensitivity transformed what had previously been a mundane procedure into something sensually stimulating. The same was true when she rubbed the soapy washcloth over her skin. 57 wondered if these feelings would recede with time, or if she would always get turned on by the simple act of touching herself. She tried not to let those feelings distract her too much though, remembering her trainer's restrictions about masturbation and orgasms without his permission.

She stepped back under the spray long enough to thoroughly rinse off the soap and shampoo, then turned off the water. Since there only appeared to be two trainees at the moment, she decided to leave the toiletries on the shelf of this shower, claiming it for her own. Exiting the room, she vigorously dried her body with a towel before wrapping it around her wet hair.

"Diana?" 57 asked the empty room.

"Yes, 57," the slightly robotic voice promptly answered.

"Do I always have to wear this uniform?" 57 said as she held up the slip of black fabric.

"When you're the trainee's quarters, meaning this floor of the building, you may wear what you like," Diana answered. "When you're in other areas, you are required to be in uniform unless instructed otherwise."

"Do I have any other duties I'll need to perform today?" 57 asked.

"Dinner will be served to the staff and guests at 6 p.m. Your presence is required in the kitchen at 5:30 to assist."

"What time is it now?"

"3:30."

"Would it be possible for you to tell me when it's 5:00? Also, while I think about it, could you make sure I'm awake at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning?"

"Of course, 57."

"Thank you, Diana."

"You're welcome, 57," Diana replied.

Choosing not to wear her uniform for now, 57 made her way to her room. Once there, she decided to give her pants and shirt a wash since she was evidently still able to wear them. She grabbed them off the bed, went down the hall, and put them in the washing machine.

Returning to her room once more, she turned her attention to the footlocker and dresser drawers. Raising the lid of the chest, she found it was empty. After a moment's consideration, she slipped her shoes inside before closing the lid. Looking through the dresser drawers she found a hairbrush, some elastic hair ties, a toothbrush still in its package, a tube of toothpaste, and some disposable plastic cups. Thankfully, there were also several pairs of black thongs like the one her trainer had given her. She breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't have to continually wash and reuse only one.

She removed the damp towel from her head and hung it over the foot board of her bed. Taking the brush from the dresser drawer, she began run it through her hair. Once again, she marveled at how such a simple act elicited such pleasurable sensations. It was as if Lindsey had unknowingly lived her whole life in a dull, gray world and now, as 57, she'd suddenly discovered what color was.

After working the tangles out of her hair, she stretched out on her bed. 57 let her thoughts drift over the events of the day. Up to this point, she'd not had a chance to really process what had happened to her. Things had simply happened too fast. Central her thoughts was her trainer, the intimidating yet strangely desirable Master Evan, and the effect he had on her. While she had known many authoritarians in her life, none had affected her in the way he did. The difference, she decided, was that though he was clearly in charge, he still respected her, listened to her, and valued her opinion. Those others had simply treated her as an object, expecting her blindly follow their instructions. It hadn't mattered how she felt or what she thought. All they'd wanted was her unquestioning obedience.

"57, it is now 5:00," said Diana's voice.

57 awoke with a start. Evidently, she'd dozed off. She addressed the empty room, "Thank you, Diana."

"You're welcome, 57," was Diana's prompt response.

Sitting up, 57 reached toward the ceiling and gave herself a good stretch. Then she got up from the bed, slipped on a fresh pair of thong underwear, and retrieved what she needed to brush her teeth from the dresser drawer. She stepped out into the still deserted hallway and made her way to the washing alcove. Once there, she removed her damp clothes from the washing machine, placed them in the dryer and started it. She found she was actually looking forward to the chance to wear some normal clothes. Then, she padded on bare feet into the bathroom and brushed her teeth at one of sinks, also taking the time to hand wash and rinse her previous "uniform".

Afterward, she returned to her room, hung her damp thong on the foot board to dry, and placed her meager toiletries back in her dresser. She brushed the sleep tangles out of her hair and stared into the eyes of the bare-chested woman in the mirror, so similar to what she remembered yet so different. Determined to display a bit of individuality, she took one of the hair ties from the drawer, a bright red one, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She turned her head from side to side, checking herself out in the mirror, and decided she liked the look. For some reason the small flash of color lifted her spirits. Other than the blue silk gown she'd worn shortly after she'd awoken as 57, what little she'd been allowed to wear had been unrelentingly, depressingly black. She found she wasn't quite ready to return to the Goth phase of Lindsey's teens.