Leashing Anna's Potential

Authors's note: This piece is a work of fantasy fiction. In the same way that fantasy authors don't condone bloodshed and violence, I feel compelled to point out that what is depicted her is deplorable behavior- please read with the understanding that this is and should forever stay a work of fiction.

Anna's brow was beaded with sweat as her Uber pulled up the arced driveway of the resort. It was a hot day and the car's air conditioning was barely working, stifling her for the duration the ninety*-*minute drive south from SFO. I bet he keeps it low to save money, the cheap bastard. She had heard that some Uber drivers did that, desperate to scrape an extra fifty cents per hour out of their work driving people around, at a cost to their passengers' dignity. Based on the look of her driver, that was probably to be expected. I wonder how long he's even been in America.

A sense of propriety returned as a dark-skinned attendant in a crisp white uniform came up smartly to meet the car. He gleamed a perfect white smile as he opened the trump and pulled her bags out as if they were packed with feathers. "Welcome to Sybaria, Anna. I'm Jerome. We're glad to have you with us and to help you explore your potential. How are you today?"

"I'm well, thanks." She answered with a curt nod, starting herself down the flagstoned path toward what she assumed was the main building. Jerome's smile disappeared as she strode past.

Anna had a habit of imagining herself from the third-person perspective whenever the environs were sufficiently aesthetic. Sybaria's lobby fit, albeit with a distinctly "West Coast" vibe. It was all white stucco, with arches soaring into a dome well overhead. It was painted with frescos that wouldn't have been out of place in a Roman bathhouse- nude men and women frolicking, but with the sort of asexual mundanity that resulted when nudity is culturally accepted rather than fetishized. She'd felt a twinge of awkwardness around nudity once, but not for some time, not after eight semesters at Princeton and eight years in New York.

As she envisioned her figure cutting across the lobby on her Louboutins and liked what she saw- she was thoroughly in her prime. Twenty-nine, five-seven, a body "made to wear fashion" in her seamstress's words. She was slender, with A-cup breasts and a surprising amount of ass considering she wasn't one for working out. A lifetime of leisure and studiousness had left her skin a sort of creamy, milky white, although she occasionally lamented the way her veins added streaks of green and blue to it at times. A mass of brown curls hung around her shoulders, fluffed almost like a pillow by the ringlets. Below that, a well-fit designer dress hugged her curves and left her collarbones exposed as they draw her skin taut. It almost might have been a vulnerable look- but her walk was anything but. She strutted like she knew she was beautiful, almost as if she had just walked away with $200m in a divorce case with a nasty ex-husband and was three months into a potentially lifelong journey toward "finding herself." Which, of course, she was.

The reception process at Sybaria was like any high-end hotel- obsequious, well-crafted, annoying. Why they had to trot some fresh-faced grad out to type her information into a computer was beyond her- especially given that she'd already entered it all online. "Clarissa" was pretty enough, though Anna felt distinctly as though she wasn't being treated with the proper deference. Thankfully, nothing grounded her quite like the silky swipe of an Amex Black Card. She instinctively turn her nose up slightly. No doubt, Clarissa had seen the card and been reminded of the differences between them.

"Okay, and just one last thing ma'am- please remind us how you heard about Sybaria?"

"My friend Catelyn recommended it- she was a guest last year. Is my room ready now?"

Catelyn was part of her support group of hedge fund wives who'd gather religiously for drinks, walks and charity events as they bided their time before succumbing to maternal domesticity entirely. Like Anna, her husband had done "the trade" and left her for a younger woman. To Anna's surprise, they were back together, at least socially, although Catelyn was hazy about the details. Regardless, she raved about the difference Sybaria had made in her own post-divorce period. "I really found myself there" she'd said, and with nothing but time and money, Anna had been begrudgingly receptive to the advice.

"Yes, ma'am. Mateo will see you to your room now. Our programming will begin tonight, you'll find more information on your bed."

Mateo was a diminutive little man in the same sharp white outfit as Jerome. Anna hardly acknowledged him as he led her down a set of long, dimly lit hallways and prattled on about the resort. If she'd listened, she would have heard him explain that she was part of a "cohort" of four guests hand-selected by management for having similar restorative goals. She'd also have heard him remind her that the resort's owner was a very wealthy, powerful man who'd spared no expense to make sure that the guests would receive the highest quality of care and discover their true selves.

Her room was evocative of the lobby- a single domed space, albeit without the frescos. On one wall was a gigantic, oval-shaped bed, nestled such that it fit perfectly against the curve of the wall. On the far wall was a gigantic TV that curved with the wall too- one of the largest TVs Anna had ever seen. It displayed a sort of vague, psychedelic art- flowers that rotated, grew and shrank in a way that seemed like it would be fun to see on drugs. As she gazed, the air almost seemed to carry a slight floral scent. Maybe the residue from the cleaning. She stared at it for a few seconds before Mateo directed her attention to the pamphlets placed carefully on the duvet.

"The instructions for the rest of your stay, ma'am."

She nodded and he shuffled off. She idly wondered who might ever want to have sex with a man like that- friendly, portly, short, obviously pulled from some village far to the south. She physically shuddered at the thought. The world isn't fair sometimes, and thank goodness for that.

She plopped herself on the bed, weary from the long flight, and started flipping through the television with the slender, white remote from the bedside table. There were five channels, each carrying a sort of documentary about a couple. The channels showed them engaged in quiet moments and peaceful, normal communication. Weird she thought, until a pamphlet on the curved bedside table explained that the Sybaria's televisions carried only its own content, tailor-made to fit with the stages of the ten-day course and designed to create total dissociation from the outside world. Well, that does sound relaxing. She turned it off with a sigh and was struck suddenly by a different notion. Slipping gently out of her clothes, she laid herself back on her bed, closed her eyes, and for the first time in weeks made the small circular motions around her nipples she'd done ceremoniously since she was a teenager. Taking care to follow her curves, she moved her hands lower slowly, down through the second tuft of curls she kept neatly trimmed and into the gathering wetness.

The next day, she ate a breakfast of yogurt and fruit and eschewed the boring-ass TV channels in favor of staring at the spiraling flowers. There was no way to turn them off, though they did get dark enough at night not to disturb her sleep. She showed up, as instructed, after visiting the bathroom, at what Sybaria called "The Meditation Room" at 9am, and there she met her cohort mates. Anna wasn't one to be bashful, but even she found the three other women to be intimidatingly beautiful. Chloe was a curvaceous Asian with broad shoulders and an outrageously hourglassed figure, perhaps five inches shorter than Anna. Jackie was a platinum blonde who both looked and sounded as if she was straight from Sweden. Hello, barbie Anna thought acidly as she warmly hugged her with a fake smile. Katya was stocky and dark-skinned with an athlete's build, an angular face fit for the runway and a mass of curls that put even Anna's to shame. Anna wasn't particularly bi, but if she were, Katya would be her type. Each introduced themselves in turn and the resort clearly had them typecast- they were all in their late 20s, recently divorced from a man of some means and trying to sort out where to go from here. All had heard about the resort from a close friend.

The instructor was a tall Asian man named Matt who wore nothing besides a loose-fitting pair of pants. Anna wasn't one for Asian men but couldn't help but notice that he was extremely fit, muscles pulsing with each movement or pose. He settled each of the four into their assigned positions and began the class.

"Ladies, the Sybaria resort is, at its core, a process of deconstruction and rebirth. We teach you to see, feel comfortable, love then ultimately deny yourself, such that you can achieve a lightness few get to experience. Today, we'll focus on seeing and being aware of each part of ourselves, together. Please close your eyes, take some deep breaths, and focus your attention on the big toe of your right foot."

And so, for eight hours, without so much as a break for the bathroom or food, they scanned each part of their bodies, paying careful attention. It would have been a standard meditation session (Anna was no stranger to them) except for Matt's insistence that the group spend at least an hour focused exclusively on their clitorises, pulsing their pelvic floor muscles. Anna had been embarrassed on behalf of Katya, who had let out a low moan and collapsed, almost as if she'd orgasmed- but Matt had hurried over with calming words and helped her right herself, then held a hand to her forehead and personally guided her back down into the trance.

That night, Anna returned home and flipped on the TV to her favorite of the five couples she had seen yesterday. The women looked sort of her like her, she supposed- pale and slender and curly haired. The man- well, he reminded her ever-so-slightly of her ex-husband. Brown hair, chiseled face, intensely blue eyes. In this video, they were lying together in bed, discussing their days and every once in awhile nibbling at each others' ears or kissing. Her hands wandered yet again.

They met back in the meditation room at 9am the next day. Anna hurried over to Katya and put an arm on her broad, muscular shoulder. "Are you alright... after yesterday?" she had been too embarrassed to ask in the aftermath. "Oh yes, more than alright" Katya assured her, with a slightly dreamy look on her face. "I feel... alive... here." As Anna considered that, she realized that she did too.

As he greeted them, Matt handed out small purple pills for each of them to take. "Medicinal herbs" he said with a broad, comforting smile, "to help you embrace the program". It started much the same as before, with Matt guiding them into a meditative state. About an hour in, Anna felt a rush of moderate euphoria start in her stomach and settle throughout her body. Whoa. She thought. Matt asked the group to open their eyes and invited Chloe to the front of the room. She walked drowsily, as if floating at the bottom of a pool.

"Chloe, how do you feel?" He asked.

"Good." She said flatly.

"Chloe, please call me 'Guru Matt'" when you address me from now on."

"Yes, Guru Matt."

"Now, Chloe- this is a lesson on being comfortable with yourself. You explored yourself thoroughly yesterday, did you not?"

"Yes, Guru Matt."

"And what did you notice?"

"It felt good, Guru Matt. I like myself."

"That's very good Chloe," he said in a voice bordering on patronizing. Now, we're going to test how you feel about yourself. This may feel uncomfortable at first- but please remove your clothing.

Chloe's eyes widened at that, almost as if she'd hopped out of her trance. Matt placed a hand on her forehead, leaned down and whispered into her ear gently. You could see her body relax as he did.

"Go ahead, Chloe." He said gently, and with only the slightest whisp of hesitation she tugged at the tie around the simple white tunic provided by the resort and it fell to the floor. As instructed, she was wearing nothing underneath.

"Now class," Matt said to the rest. "Tell her she's beautiful." They did; in unison.

On her bed that night, as she watched the television couple lounge around together naked in various surroundings, Anna found herself thinking of Katya's undressing as she came- her long, full nipples, wide supple hips and the curls below her waist. By the time it had been her own turn to present herself to the group for a dose of radical self-comfort, Anna had been leaking visibly down her own leg. Matt had pointed it out and instructed the group to tell her that it was okay- that arousal was part of her humanity and to be celebrated, not viewed shamefully. He had even given her a mirror that she might more closely examine the pool of moisture the session had created. As she came, explosively, at the thought of Katya's tongue between her legs, with those languid, intelligent eyes looking up at her plaintively, she started to think that he really did have a point.

Four hours into the next day's session, Jackie said no. She was in front of the class, naked, lying on her back on a cushion that was basically a thicker, larger yoga matt. Her breasts were ridiculously proportionate in such a pose- even at her age they could scarcely resist the pull of gravity when she stood upright, but on her back they settled into perfect half globes. Anna noted with wonder again that her nipples were remarkably small, her vagina remarkably smooth and tucked. She really is a barbie. She was wet- that much was obvious to the other three who stood around, watching her, but when Matt had asked her to bring herself pleasure, that was too much to bear, even with the benefit of the little purple pill in full swing. Anna could feel its effects in heir veins now, even moreso than yesterday. If that was me down there, I'd touch myself in a heartbeat. Matt, as always, was patient. He had the group shower Jackie with encouraging words, tell her that she was beautiful and deserved pleasure, that there was no shame. Each phrase they repeated in unison. From the corner of her eye, Anna saw Chloe bite her lip and furtively lower her hands, as if trying to graze herself without the rest of the group noticing. Matt had played a sort of tonal music today; they were swaying to it.

"Jackie," he said firmly. "The other girls are waiting for you to give in. You're on a journey of self-comfort, and that includes being comfortable with your own pleasure. This is the deepest part of you, and it is critical that you not carry shame with you there. Now, please, for us, your sisters and Guru, begin."

She looked up at them all in a sort of dazed wonderment. "Please, Jackie" Chloe cooed. "Feel good for us." She's just trying to get to her turn.

Anna eyed Chloe warily. Some part of her suspected that she was become attracted to Matt and was playing her part extra well to try to win his favor. Anna wasn't into Asians, however, as a rule.

Matt gently wrapped a strong, veiny hand around Jackie's slender, tanned wrist and led it down. He even created the first stroke for her, guiding her finger back and forth over her obviously throbbing clit with her wrists. She let out a low moan, her hips bucked gently off the cushion, and she was lost, slowly rubbing circles around herself as Matt and the rest spoke words of encouragement. Chloe held her hand as she came, a low, long, passive sort of orgasm, and Matt let her go next when she asked.

The television program in Anna's room graduated to softcore porn that night, with the man and woman masturbating next to each other, exhorting each other with encouragement and cumming in a twenty-minute loop. Anna watched it thrice, cumming furiously in time with the woman each time, before drifting off to sleep.

The next day, the girls gathered awkwardly in the meditation room. Being naked had been par for the course- almost an expectation at a sort of new-age retreat like this, especially on the West Coast. But masturbating to completion in front of others? Even for someone as enlightened as Anna considered herself to be, that was a little much. She heard Katya and Chloe muttering something about the programs on their TVs just as Matt arrived. Awkwardness dissipated into routine- each woman received and swallowed her little purple pill before taking her place on their mat.

After an hour of induction, the pill's effects in full swing, Matt began his daily monolog.

"Today, we will take everything you have learned and take the great leap forward that will leave you ready for rebirth. Today, we will teach you to leave your sense of self behind, and accept oneness and dispassion toward the universe. Anna, please come forward."

Anna strode forward in a floaty daze. Gone was the haughtiness with which she strode into the lobby just a few days ago. A freedom, Matt would argue.

"Now, Anna, please clear your mind, remove your clothes and lay down on the cushion."

She did, immediately, well conditioned by over 24 hours of meditation. The cool air stiffened her nipples. Matt knelt beside her.

Empty... empty... empty She thought, carefully returning her attention to her clit whenever she felt her mind wander. In her head, she imagined nothing but swirling mist. Matt had taught her that.

"Next, I'd like you to find the part of yourself that make you disagree with others. Can you find it for me? What does it look like?"

Anna searched the mist. "It's a shield, Guru Matt. Big, broad and black."

"Good girl" he said, assuringly. "That shield has been very useful to you over time. It's kept you safe. Now I'd like you to thank it and cast it aside, down a pit from which it will never come back"

Anna pictured herself throwing the shield away and watched as it got smaller and smaller until it no longer existed.

"Yes, Guru Matt. The shield is gone."

"Good girl." Anna shuddered. It felt good to be called that. Once upon a time, she might have taken umbrage, but for whatever reason, it didn't occur to her to.

"Now, Anna, I'm going to say and do things to you, and we're going to discuss your reactions, okay?"

"Yes, Guru Matt."

"Anna, you are a horny little fuckslut."

Anna's mind lit up. What? No, no I'm not. She was anything but.

She felt a hand rest gently on her forehand. A strong, soothing hand.

"There there Anna, I see that furrow on your brow. What does hearing me say that make you feel?"

"Angry, Guru Matt. Disrespected."

"Good. Good, Anna. Now, I'd like you to find the part of you that feels that way. Can you do that for me?"

She imagined a dragon in the mist, breathing fire and brandishing claws, and told him about it.

"Good girl. Thank you for sharing. Now, I'd like you to imagine the dragon being killed with a crossbow bolt to the head and falling from the sky into the ocean, and slipping beneath the waves."

Anna saw the steam rise from the ocean as the heat of the dragon's neck struck it.

"Anna. You are a horny little fuckslut. How does it feel to hear it?"

It feels like... nothing. "Like nothing, Guru Matt."

"And why do you suppose that is? Perhaps because it is true?"

"Yes, perhaps, Guru Matt."

Matt turned to the other students. Anna remained on her back, trembling gently. "Now, girls, Anna has just opened herself up to a very difficult possibility. She's been trained her whole life to believe that it is better to be refined, to be independent, to be aloof. But what if that isn't her true nature? What if the dragon was keeping her from experiencing her true self? Congratulate her on letting go of this misconception."