I didn’t want to go the lunchroom, I didn’t know any of the other people here and my head was reeling a bit from the sudden change in plans and new status. So I was relieved when Ms. Kirsty had lunch brought to us instead. It was a light lunch – chicken salad sandwich on whole wheat bread with a side of fresh fruit. I could have had tea or coffee, but Ms. Kirsty suggested I have water so I’d be well hydrated for the afternoon ahead of me.

She ate with me, sharing space at a round table on one side of her office. I was glad for the company. She kept me busy chatting about little things, sharing a story or two about herself, until I almost felt comfortable. We had barely finished eating when an intercom on her desk buzzed and Sir Alex’s voice interrupted us.

“Kirsty, when you’ve finished feeding the girl, bring her to me, please.”

My heart was pounding, and I automatically stood up. Ms. Kirsty laughed as she pressed the button to respond to Sir Alex. “I think we’re ready now,” she said, “Be there in a minute.” Then she turned to me.

“Slow down a minute,” she said. “Breathe. You don’t need to share your answer with me, but take a minute now to decide if this is what you want to do.” She paused. If you do want to, then take a moment to connect with the submission inside you. Notice what that feels like, what comes up for you.”

Her words calmed me, and I was able to pause and notice what I felt. The longing to surrender and to give, I felt that in my heart. A touch of tension in my belly, the desire to measure up, to be found pleasing, I noticed that. And the tug of sensation at my core, the heat in my center, the beginning of desire, I felt that as well.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, “that was really helpful.” I took a deep breath, slowly. “I’m ready now.”

She smiled. “Then let’s go.”

****************

Ms. Kirsty knocked on the door to his office, Sir Alex swept the door open and ushered me in. He and Ms Kirsty spoke quietly for a moment, softly enough I couldn’t hear the words. while I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. There were two visitor chairs, but they had both been pulled to the side and I wouldn’t have sat down without permission anyhow.

Then he was in front of me, looking at me, and even though I was fully clothed, I felt naked under his gaze.

“I see that you signed the consent,” he said, and his voice was warm as he added, “Welcome to your new role.”

I smiled, still feeling awkward but relaxing a bit. “Thank you, Sir, I’m – I’m excited about it.”

“We’ll go through the consent form together. I have lots of questions, and we’ll need to discuss the logistics of being the demo sub,” he continued, “but first, you may take your clothes off. Slowly, please.” And he pulled over one of the visitor chairs and settled himself in front of me.

I froze. I wanted to obey, my nipples were tingling and i knew if I looked down I would see them pressing against the fabric of my clothes. But he was watching me, head slightly tilted, waiting… and –

“Yes, Sir,” I said, finally, with a bit of relief. I crossed my arms to grasp the bottom of my shirt and slowly raised it until it was over my head and off. I might have dropped it on the floor, I was so disconcerted, but he said, “Fold it, please and put it on the desk.”

“Yes, Sir,” and with trembling arms, I managed to fold the shirt and take the few steps to his desk and back.

“Bra next,” he said.

I smiled then, grateful for the direction. I lowered the straps, unhooked the back in as sultry a way as I could, feeling sure that it was a poor show. Folded it and laid it on the desk. As I turned back toward him, he said, “Panties next.”

“Yes, Sir,” and I discreetly slid my hands under the skirt to tug them down. He laughed.

I froze.

He shook his head, still smiling. “You would think you were trying to hide your body, the way you’re doing that. Go ahead, slip them off.”

Feeling unsure of myself, I did, stepping out of them carefully.

“Now, lift your skirt in front so I can see your pussy.”

Blushing, biting my lip, I lifted my skirt in the front.

“That’s it,” he said, “now tuck your skirt into the waistband so it stays up. There you go, yes, good girl. Now turn so your back is facing me and lift your skirt in the back, tuck it in too. Yes, just like that. Good girl.”

For a minute, I thought I might die of embarrassment, I felt ridiculous with the skirt tucked up like this, almost more exposed than if I had just taken it off. But, “Come here,” he said, “closer, face me.”

I was standing directly in front of him, within easy reach of his touch.

“Very nice,” he said. “Now you may take your skirt off.”

Quickly I slid it down over my hips, without stopping to think, I stepped out of it. Remembered to fold it, moving to the desk, and back, with as much grace as I could muster.

He smiled slightly and nodded as I stood in front of him again. “The consent you signed gives me the use of your body in the specified ways you agreed to, as well as possible use in other ways. I’m going to inspect you now. When you present for inspection, you should stand with your feet shoulder width apart.” He paused and nodded again as I adjusted my stance, opening my legs wider. I was embarrassed, wondering if he could see how wet I already was.

“Now put your hands on the back of your neck, yes, like that. You can lace your fingers together, keep your elbows back. I glanced down at my breasts, which were lifted and thrust forward. My nipples were already hard and extended.

“Very good,” he said, “now make sure you’re breathing,” he sounded a bit amused, “and try to release as much tension as you can. This is the position for inspection but you’re not a soldier. You’re a submissive girl, offering me your body, for my pleasure.”

I heard a soft whimper escape me. Responding to his words, my body did relax, I felt myself opening to him.

“I’m going to touch you,” he said. “And for this first time, I’m going to ask your permission. Like this.”

He stood too, and he towered over me, I’m short anyhow, maybe 5′ 1″ on a good day, and he was at least 6 feet tall. I trembled. Gently, he said, “May I touch your face?’ Before I could answer, before I could even decide if I was supposed to answer, he continued, “If you’re willing to allow me to take this part of your body, you will say, “yes, sir, please touch my face.” Later, you may learn other responses, such as “My face belongs to you, sir, or my body is yours, sir,” but today a simple, “yes sir, please touch my face,’ will do. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” I responded, although I was still trembling, and my heart was pounding again.

He smiled, it was such a warm and caring smile that most of my anxiety slipped off my shoulders and I thought I might do anything to earn that smile. “May I touch your face?’ he said.

And I replied, “Yes, Sir, please touch my face,” lifting my face up toward him to give him easier access.

He stroked my forehead with his thumbs, caressed my cheekbones, my cheeks, and traced the lines of my chin. Then, “Open your mouth,” he said. Surprised, I had not thought of that, I parted my lips and he slid his thumb into my mouth. My mouth closed around his thumb without any thought on my part, and I would have happily sucked his thumb, but, “No,” he said.

I heard myself whimper again, a sound I don’t think I had made before today. But I stopped. He removed his thumb and I was swept away with all the feelings of failure and not pleasing, tears immediately welling up in my eyes.

He tapped my cheek lightly with one hand. “Pay attention to me,” he said. “You’re a student,” he went on, “My student. My submissive. And you will learn to obey me,” His words were firm but the tone was surprisingly gentle. “You can’t read my mind and I don’t expect you to. I’ll correct you when you need it. Now, let’s try again. Open your mouth.”

Obediently, I opened my mouth again. This time, when he slipped his thumb in, I kept my mouth open and allowed him to explore the dark, moist depths of it with his thumb. Only when he said, “Now you may suck,” did I let my mouth close and savor the sensation of his thumb pressing on my tongue, filling my mouth.