'57' Ch. 02

"Diana, what time is it now?"

"5:18"

"Thanks. I'd best get going."

"You're welcome, 57."

57 left her room and paused at the top of the stairs, steeling herself to re-enter the public areas of the building in her tiny uniform. It was only a brief pause though before she padded down the stairs to the second floor. Mercifully, that area also seemed to be deserted, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief at her run of luck so far. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable however, and that she'd be on full display once she reached the kitchen. Shortly after that thought was completed, she found herself facing the swinging doors once more. Thinking back on what had happened the last time she'd passed through them brought a flush of warmth to her body. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she pushed through the doors.

The scene on the other side was one of controlled chaos. The cooks were rushing to complete final preparations for the meal, each seemingly oblivious to what the others were doing. 57 looked around nervously, afraid to butt in and distract the kitchen staff. She was rescued from her confusion by the appearance of an elegant looking woman in red lingerie. 57 thought it was strange to think of a woman in lingerie as looking elegant, but that was the word that immediately sprung to mind. She spied her coming toward her from across the room and, in contrast to the chaos of the rest of the kitchen, it seemed an island of calm followed the woman as she moved.

She stopped in front of her and said, "Hello,57. It is nice to meet you. My name is Serafina and I will show you what you need to do to help with the dinner."

"Thank you, Ma'am. I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do and who to talk to," 57 replied shyly. She found herself captivated by Serafina's softly Italian-accented voice and, though she only came up to about 57's nose, the poise with which she carried herself lent her an undeniable presence.

Serafina laughed lightly, "There is no need for such formality, 57. You may call me Serafina, or simply Fina if you prefer. That is what my friends call me. Hopefully, you will come to count me as a friend too."

57 felt herself relaxing. "Serafina... that's a lovely name," she said with a tentative smile.

"I thought so too when I chose it," she replied, returning the smile, "but we had best get you to work. Here, come with me." She gently placed a hand in the small of 57's back and guided her toward some doors on the other side of the room.

Serafina led her into a dining room that wouldn't have looked out-of-place in a 5-star restaurant. It was filled with sparkling crystal, polished brass, and rare hardwoods. 57 was impressed, she'd never been in a room so elegant. She felt very self-conscious about her near-nakedness. It seemed almost an affront to opulence of the room. Her companion, however, seemed to fit perfectly into the posh surroundings.

Pointing to a cart piled with silverware, napkins and glassware, Serafina told her, "Your first task is to set the tables for our guests. There is a seating chart in the pocket on the side of the cart. This is how you are to do each setting." She laid the tableware out in a precise configuration on the table in front of them and filled the glass with ice water from a pitcher on the cart. "Got that?" she asked.

"I think so, Serafina. Thank you," 57 answered.

"All right," Serafina replied with another smile as she made shooing motions with her hands. "Off you go. Return here with the cart when you are done."

57 pulled the seating chart from the pocket, examined it closely, then, pushing the cart ahead of her, made a circuit of the tables setting tableware where indicated. She only had to look at the chart that one time and had no trouble remembering the exact layout of the place-setting. 57 knew Lindsey's memory had never been that good. Evidently this was yet another modification that the Corp had made to her. As an exercise, she thought back to her punishment from earlier, and found that she could recall every detail; every moan, every flush of embarrassment and every pulse of her literally mind-shattering orgasm. She quickly brought her thoughts back to her present assignment as she felt her panties beginning to moisten at the memory.

Completing what she'd been assigned, she returned to Serafina and waited for more instructions.

The red-clad woman took a quick glance around the room to see how well the task had been performed. "Good job 57," she said. "You learn quickly."

"Thank you, Serafina," she answered quietly.

"Our guests will be arriving soon. Since this is your first time, I would like you to stay here by the doorway and observe how dinner is handled. After you have learned a bit more we'll assign you additional tasks but, for now, just watch." Serafina gave her a smile, a friendly pat on the shoulder, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

57's body returned, almost by reflex, to the attention position. Soon, people started filing into the dining room and taking their assigned seats. She was able to link a name to each person by recalling who was listed in each place on the seating chart she'd used to set the tables. She filed that information away for future reference. There was a bit of a spike in her heart rate when Master Evan entered accompanied by a muscular bald man who looked to be in his early thirties. They sat down together and from the chart, she pulled the name David Drake. The two of them were discussing something quite animatedly and she felt a flush of heat when Master Evan pointed to her and the other man turned to regard her with keen interest.

She was saved from further embarrassment by the entry of another pair of people into the room. The first was a tall amazon of a woman, standing over six feet in her spiked heels. She had long, fiery red hair, wore a black leather bustier with matching leather pants and, basically, looked intimidating as hell. Following meekly behind her, on a chain hooked to a sliver collar similar to the one 57 herself wore, was a slightly built young man. Other than the collar, he wore nothing but an uncomfortable-looking, metallic, cage-like device secured around his penis and scrotum by a small padlock. They sat at a table with a single place-setting. Actually Mistress Greta, whose name 57 pulled from the memorized chart, sat at the table and the man knelt on the floor at her feet looking up at her like an eager puppy. Connecting the dots, 57 assumed this kneeling man was the mysterious "53" whose door she'd knocked on earlier.

57 had to force herself to look away from the kneeling submissive. Her eyes had been irresistibly drawn to his imprisoned genitals. Lindsey had actually seen very few adult cocks in real life, only her husband's and that of some high school crush that she'd had a furtive petting session with in a darkened back seat. This one, even in its flaccid state, was larger than either of them. She found that her earlier punishment session had, for some reason, ignited in her a burning interest male anatomy.

The food arrived and, as instructed, 57 dutifully observed how it was served by the staff. While this was going on, Serafina wandered among the tables, stopping now and then to engage in friendly conversation with several of the diners. She was obviously in her element. 57 was impressed with the poise she demonstrated and the instant rapport she seemed to have with people as she wended her way through the room She hoped that one day she would be able to conduct herself even half as well.

Turning her attention back to Greta and her trainee, she watched as he was made to beg for scraps of food from his Mistress's plate. The puppy analogy she'd used earlier seemed more and more appropriate. The whole display made 57 uncomfortable as it reminded her of the mindless obedience that had been required of Lindsey when she was growing up. Her parents had often trotted her out to spout memorized Bible verses and give rote answers to questions to demonstrate what a good and well-mannered child they were raising to their friends. She'd felt like a trained animal put on display and made to perform tricks for an audience. While Master Evan had also made her display herself publicly, she'd actually participated in the decision of what she was to do and had agreed that her punishment was warranted. They'd also had an in-depth discussion afterward about her thoughts, feelings, and what she'd learned from the experience. On the other hand, it seemed to her that Greta was more interested in a public display of her power over her submissive and regarded him as simply an object, just as Lindsey's parents had considered her. This was all about Greta and 53 was merely a tool to make her look impressive. She didn't get that vibe from Master Evan, he seemed genuinely interested in teaching her and wanted her willing participation. Pondering that, she found that she'd actually expected to be treated like Greta was treating her charge -- it conformed to the, perhaps naive, mental image she'd had of a Master/slave relationship. She was finding that she much preferred Evan's methods though, it made her feel like more of an equal partner in her training. Of course, she could be wrong about Greta and 53. For all she knew, they could have extensive back and forth conversations about their training regimen, but 57's intuition told her otherwise.

As dinner began to wind down, Serafina came over briefly and instructed her to clear off the tables as they emptied of diners. She moved to follow her orders, placing dirty tableware on the cart and scraping the uneaten food into a trash receptacle that hung from its side. The sight and smell of the food was making her stomach growl audibly now. She'd not had anything to eat since before she'd arrived at the training facility. Doing her best to push those cravings to the back of her mind, she applied herself to her assigned task remembering her trainer saying that a signature skill of a good submissive was to perform tasks to the best their ability. 57 was surprised that her fellow trainee, 53, hadn't been instructed to help with the clean up too. When Mistress Greta had finished her meal, she'd simply pushed back her chair without a word and led him out by his leash.

After the remaining diners had left, she pushed her now full cart through the doors into the kitchen. She found the cooking and serving staff, along with Serafina, seated around a table inside having their meal. One of the cooks, seeing her enter, pointed to the sink against the far wall. The counter next to it was piled high with the pots, pans, and utensils that had been used to prepare the evening's dinner. She pushed the cart next to that counter and looked once more toward the those eating at the table. The same person pointed once again at the sink and 57 realized she was expected to be the dishwasher too. She gave a small, hidden sigh of resignation and filled the sink with hot, soapy water.

She soon lost herself in the mechanical motions of washing dishes. It was something Lindsey had had extensive experience with; a chore she'd performed nearly every night of her life from the time she'd been tall enough to reach the sink. Lost in her own little world, she didn't notice that the staff had completed their meal and departed. The clinking sound of more dishes being placed on the counter next to her brought her back to reality. She turned to see Serafina, who'd evidently cleared the table where she and the others had been eating, standing next to her with the now-familiar smile on her face.

"You looked like you could use a hand," she told 57. She reached for a towel and began to dry the dishes that 57 had placed in the rack next to the sink.

"Thank you. I'd be grateful for some help... as long as you're not breaking any rules by doing it. I wouldn't want to get you in any trouble," she replied somewhat worriedly.

Serafina smiled making the dimples in her cheeks appear more prominent for a moment. "Have no worries about me, sweet 57, those in charge are well aware of my actions." She took a moment to dry a few more plates before sliding them into their proper spot in the cabinet.

"So tell me 57, what are your thoughts on your situation?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Everything's so strange and has been happening so fast that I'm having a hard time processing it. Part of me wants to curl up in a ball, but another part takes a sort of perverse pleasure in the situation."

"That is to be expected. They do not give you much time to think about it for many reasons. Sometimes thinking too much can be detrimental to the whole process. Experiencing the reality of this situation seems to be a better way to process this for most people. You seem to be handling everything quite well though, from what I have been told."

"From what you've been told?" 57 paused in her dish washing and looked at Serafina, "Told by who?"

"What does it matter who told me 57? You were praised, that alone should give you confidence, no?" Serafina kept her hands busy wiping down counters and the stove.

"I don't know that I like being the center of attention is all," 57 said while scrubbing a pot particularly hard. "It makes me uncomfortable. I'm used to blending into the scenery. Individuality is not something that's been encouraged in the life I've had before."

"Why look at it that way then? Perhaps it is not about being in the limelight at all, but rather doing what is expected of you and doing exceptionally well. That is something you are used to, yes?" Her tone wasn't harsh, but rather questioning as she moved from the table back to the sink in order to continue drying the dishes.

"Well, I'm used to doing what I've been told to do, but I don't know about doing it exceptionally well," 57 shrugged and concentrated on scrubbing. "I've found that I don't want to disappoint Trainer though."

"You would definitely know if you were not doing a job well, 57," Serafina said with a hint of a smile turning the corners of her lips upward. She took the last dish from 57 as she finished rinsing it in order to dry it then put it away efficiently. She shut the cabinet door and leaned her hip on the counter, her dark brown eyes unashamedly assessing the new trainee from top to bottom.

57 flushed a bit at Serafina's frank examination, "Yes, I've already had one punishment," she said quietly. She let the sink drain and dried her hands. "I'm really hungry, and watching everyone else eat didn't help. Did they leave anything for me?"

Fina gestured to the oven saying, "Yes, your food is in the oven to keep warm. By the way, if you have a spare moment and are in need of someone to talk to or you simply feel like some conversation without rules for a while, I would welcome your company. Just ask Diana where to find me." She smiled and turned to walk to the kitchen door.

"Do you have to go yet?" 57 asked almost plaintively. "You're the first person who's actually been friendly to me since all this started. I would love it if you would stay and talk a little longer. I know you probably can't answer a lot of my questions, but just having a non-stressful conversation would be nice."

Serafina turned around and looked at 57 for a moment before nodding and moving back to sit at the kitchen table, folding her hands in her lap. "I can stay for a while. I do have a function to attend in about an hour, but it is here within the building so I am not pressed for time." She wore nothing but her uniform, a beautiful lacy red bustier with black accents and a pair of red satin panties. She also had a pinkish-gold colored collar around her throat that glinted in the light but her hair, as long as it was, hid it from all views except the front.

57 hurried to retrieve her dinner from the stove and then sat down opposite Serafina. She felt a tingle between her legs when she recalled what had happened earlier at this very table. Peering at the collar she asked, "Does the collar mean you're a slave... or submissive too? I don't really know what term to use. I see yours is a different color, though, and has your name on it instead of a number."

Serafina looked her in the eyes intently, "Slaves, submissives, bottoms...they are all just titles 57. In the outside world, the different titles could mean different things for different people. Generally speaking, they can mean varying depths of submission but this does not really apply here at the Corp. Here, the title of slave is assumed. We have no limits, and you will do whatever is asked of you by your trainer regardless of your personal feelings," Fina's relaxed demeanor returned and she and ran a finger lightly across the metal encircling her neck before continuing, "I digress though...this particular collar means that I have completed all my training here at the Corp. It does not have a number on it because, by completing that training, I have earned the right to a name."

"Are you a... clone like me?" 57 asked hesitantly. She still wasn't quite comfortable thinking of herself that way. "Did you have a number at one time too?"

"Yes, and yes," Fina returned. "My number was 14, so I have been with the Corp quite a while actually." She smiled fondly, remembering the intensive training she had gone through.

"You were trained here too?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, Master Evan was also my trainer." She pulled herself from her memories and turned her attention to concentrate once more on 57. "My training though, was much different from yours. You see...the person I was cloned from was already very experienced in this lifestyle."

"You were trained by Ev... Trainer? I guess that makes us sisters in a way," 57 said, breaking a small smile. "Can you tell me what your life was like before the Corp cloned you? I had fantasies about the... lifestyle but I never really experienced it firsthand."

Serafina smiled and nodded along with 57. "Alas, this is where you and I differ. I do not think of myself as Angelina. I came into this life with a completely different outlook than you, 57. You did not understand what was going on, Angelina, the person from whom I was cloned, had given permission for it to happen to her since she herself wasn't free to commit to the Corp. I am not Angelina and have never once looked at myself as her. I just happen to resemble her a great deal and have her memories."

"It must have been nice coming into this knowing what was going to happen. I'm just so confused by all this. Though I can't deny that it's filling a need that I never realized I had before."

"Do not worry, you will adjust accordingly. Lindsey had these desires but she let herself become trapped by other's expectations for her and now she will go through life regretting that fact. You are different though; you will learn to free yourself from Lindsey's mindset and come to enjoy what she wanted for herself. You will find it beneficial to stop thinking of yourself in her terms. I know it may be a difficult thing to do since you have her memories, I too have struggled with this to some extent. However, I know you have a very strong mind 57," with that Fina reached out and placed her hand on 57's shoulder.

She looked over at the clock on the wall and stood up saying to 57, "My hour is almost up, and I still need to freshen up a bit so I will see you around, yes?"

"I hope so, Serafina. I've really enjoyed talking to you. Thank you for showing me what to do and helping me with the dishes."

"The pleasure was mine, 57. I also enjoyed your company very much," Serafina leaned over and placed a kiss on the surprised trainee's cheek before turning and walking out the door.

57 sat staring at the door with her fingers resting on the spot where she'd been kissed for several minutes. She found herself very much attracted to Serafina. She thought back to how the red lingerie had molded to her curves, the feel over her hand on her back, and her soft lips against her cheek. However, she found what most attracted her was the confidence and poise with which she carried herself and the familiarity that came so easily to her. Was this what she'd be like when her training was completed? It seemed an almost impossible transformation to her.