Training Carrie - Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

I opened the door to the room where she had been waiting, naked.
When she entered the room several hours ago, her instructions had
been to strip completely except for her three-inch heels, put her
clothes in the armoire in one corner of the room, then close the
armoire door. When she closed the door, she heard the locking
click. She tried the door to see if it was truly locked, which it
was. Then, continuing to follow her instructions to the letter,
she walked to the full-length mirror and stood facing her image,
feet apart at shoulder width and arms at her sides. She was
monitored continuously by hidden cameras, and I knew she had made
no detectable movements since then. She already showed remarkable
self-discipline, but she would soon be tested to her limits and
beyond.

    "Are you ready?" I asked.

    Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed the door open behind and to
her left. She jumped at the sound of my voice, then looked at me
in the mirror, her body still motionless, arms still at her
sides. There was a tremor in her voice when she asked, "Are you
the one - are you my ... trainer?"

    "Your training Master. Yes, I'm the one."
    
    A faint smile appeared. "My Master," she echoed softly. I
couldn't tell if she was simply correcting herself aloud, or if
she was acknowledging my title. "I was hoping it would be you."

    "Why?"
    
    She thought for a moment, then responded, "During my interviews,
you seemed genuinely concerned that I was doing this for the
right reasons. I felt like you cared. I feel like I can trust
you."

    "And if you didn't think you could trust me?"
    
    "Look," she said, "as you know from the interviews, it's been
very difficult for me to express why I need to do this. Until I
arrived today and was told I was accepted, I was sure I would be
turned down due to my poor interview performance. Even though I
couldn't explain my reasons to your satisfaction, I know this is
what I have to do. But I still don't know if I have the strength
to see it through, and being with someone I'm comfortable with
might make all the difference."

    It occurred to me to answer that she wouldn't find much comfort
here, and she wouldn't have much choice but to see it through.
But she had already been told what to expect in nonspecific terms
- no need to sow doubts in her mind at this late date. She
obviously wanted reassurance from me, so I gave it to her.
"You've shown great strength and determination just getting this
far. Granted, the most difficult part is ahead, but we understand
how hard it was for you to deliver yourself into this situation.
If we didn't think you could do it, we wouldn't have accepted
you." She smiled.

    "Are you ready?" I repeated
    
    She bowed her head, as if embarrassed. "I'm so afraid," she
finally replied softly.
    
    "If you go through with the Ceremony, you will have constant
cause for fear, for a very long time. We've tried to make that
very clear to you. This is what you said you wanted."

    Barely above a whisper, she said, "I know, but then we were
talking about the future. Now the future is here." Then she took
a deep breath and said, "Ok, I'm ready."
    
    "Here's the document," I said, holding up the parchment on which
the Agreement was written. "I want you to read it carefully, one
more time. This is your last chance to change your mind."

    She turned and walked slowly to me. It was obvious to her that I
was admiring her body as she walked, yet she kept her arms at her
sides, making no attempt to cover herself. By her own accounts
and our assessments, she was a modest and sexually repressed
woman. I couldn't imagine how very hard all of this must be for
her.

    I had seen her naked before, during her last interview. Then as
now, I thought she was stunning: shoulder-length reddish-brown
hair, green eyes, strong jaw, high cheekbones, perfect teeth,
clear complexion, a slightly voluptuous body, large but not too
large breasts - no implants - and good muscle tone without
looking muscular. Per our direction, she wore no makeup except
lipstick, yet "glamorous" would have been an appropriate
description of her face. Her only negative was that she was
slightly thick-waisted, but we would improve that with diet and
exercise.

    Our eyes met as she reached for the parchment. Suddenly she
froze, then jerked back her hand. I was puzzled, something
obviously happened, but I didn't know what. Then the moment
passed. She reached out again, took the parchment, and began
reading. After a second, I put a hand at the top of the parchment
and lowered it, and her hands with it, until I could see her
breasts over the top of the parchment. "Don't obstruct the view,"
I said when she glanced up at me, giving her a taste of the
control I would soon be exerting over her. She blushed slightly,
but kept reading. As she read, the trembling visible in her hands
and breasts progressed to shaking. At last she offered back the
parchment, and said, "Seeing it in writing terrifies me. Could I
please have a drink before we start, to steady my nerves?"

    "No," I said. I took back the parchment and handed her a small
key. "Here's the key that unlocks the armoire. You will begin the
Ceremony with your clothes on. Put on your blouse and skirt, but
leave the other things, you have no further need of them. Come
out through this door when you are dressed, in one minute. You
know what is expected of you during the Ceremony. There will be
witnesses, don't embarrass me." I left the room, leaving the door
open.

    She emerged on schedule into the "throne" room, which was
connected to the waiting room she came from by a short,
featureless hall. The two doors she passed through locked as they
closed behind her. From now on, she was on a one-way journey.

    She looked at me, seated in an ornate chair on a raised platform
- thus the name "throne" room. Considering the Agreement she was
about to bind herself to, it was appropriate that she was facing
me seated on a throne. She saw the parchment on the low table in
front of the platform, then glanced up at the two video cameras,
one over each of my shoulders near the ceiling. She didn't seem
to notice the two cameras on either side of the room, certainly
not the two behind her. She avoided looking at the door to her
left, opening into a pitch dark room. She knew the Ceremony would
end with her entering that room alone, to end her old life and
start a new one.

    "Stand at the table, across from me," I said. She moved to the
table and resumed the pose she had held for so long in the
waiting room, making steady eye contact with me. Naked or
clothed, she was beautiful. I paused to see how she would react
to the silence, in a room she hadn't seen before. Fear was
visible on her face, and her body was still shaking.

    "Why are you here?" I asked.
    
    She was silent for some seconds, as if she were summoning the
will to speak through her fear. "I want a new life, a different
life," she finally said, in a barely audible whisper.

    I was sure the room microphones would catch anything said here,
no matter how soft or loud, but I still asked her to speak a
little louder. She repeated her last statement, her voice clearer
but still weak.
    
    Pointing to the parchment, I asked her, "Have you read the
Agreement on the table in front of you, and do you agree to the
terms?"

    She glanced down at the parchment and said, this time in a more
normal voice, "Yes, I agree fully to the terms. It's what I
want."

    "I want you to pick up the parchment and read it again to
yourself, slowly and completely, then return it to the table," I
said.

    She did as I said, still trembling. I became concerned, because
she was taking longer to read the Agreement this time than she
had before. She would not have been allowed to back out at this
point, but it was better psychologically if she entered the room
willingly. Finally she stooped to return the parchment to the
table, then stood erect and waited. She seemed a little more
relaxed.

    "This what you want?" I asked.
    
    "It's what I need," she answered quietly.
    
    "Remove your clothes," I said, intentionally using a commanding
tone for the first time. It took her a few seconds to get
started, then a few more seconds to take off the blouse and
skirt. She was clearly shaking while she stripped, she knew each
step of the Ceremony was taking her closer to the dark room.
Also, I think the presence of the cameras took her over a new
threshold; but she didn't realize she had already been taped
naked, during her final interview. Not seeing anything nearby to
hang her clothes on, she dropped them to the floor. Since she had
been told to keep her shoes on in the waiting room, she assumed
she should keep them on here, so she resumed her pose after
removing the blouse and skirt. "Your shoes too," I commanded, and
she removed the shoes, her breasts swaying as she bent at the
waist.

    I had seen her undress once before, during that last interview.
And of course, I had seen her naked just a few minutes ago. But
seeing her gracefully strip under such obviously stressful
conditions just now, I was more impressed with her than ever. She
didn't seem at all impressed with her own beauty, and didn't
realize the reserve of strength she possessed. When she was naked
and had resumed her pose at the table, I continued instructing
her, "Kneel, sitting back on your heels, with your back straight.
Position the parchment closer on the table, so you can read it
without bending forward. Then rest your hands, palms up, on your
thighs. Also, refrain from pressing your lips together, always
leave your mouth open slightly." She immediately opened her lips.

    When she was kneeling and had moved the parchment closer and
positioned her hands as ordered, her thighs were nearly touching,
so I added, "Your legs should be more open, move your knees as
far apart as possible, then straighten your posture." Here I
paused for a moment, to allow her to reposition herself and
recover whatever composure she could muster under the
circumstances. This was her first experience at being under such
strict control, and she was responding very well. Her legs were
open wide, but obviously weren't spread as far as possible. Good,
we would work on that later.

    Finally I said, "Now you must read the Agreement aloud, so
anyone viewing this ceremony will know that you understand
exactly what you are agreeing to, and what you are binding
yourself to."

    She looked down at the parchment and began reading the articles
of the Agreement. Her voice was weak and wavering at first, but
became louder and steadier as she proceeded. During the reading,
she seemed to begin coming to terms with the situation, perhaps
she realized that all her choices were behind her now, so she
could begin to relax and go along with the process. Here is some
of what she read:

    "I Marlene [last name omitted] enter into this binding agreement
freely and without reservation."

    "This Agreement is between Marlene [last name omitted],
hereinafter referred to as the Slave, and the Personnel
Development Corporation and its designated agent, hereinafter
referred to as the Master."

    "The Slave understands that this Agreement, once signed by the
agreeing parties, may not be rescinded by the Slave for any
reason, and may be rescinded by the Master at any time, for
cause."

    "The Slave agrees that henceforth the Slave will irrevocably
surrender all freedoms, all choices, and the Slave's given name,
to the Master."

    "The Slave agrees to enter upon a program of slave training
administered by the Master, understanding that the type,
duration, and severity of this training will be solely determined
by the Master."

    "The Slave agrees that the Master has the right to use the
Slave's body in any way the Master sees fit, and to inflict on
the Slave any physical or psychological punishment deemed
appropriate by the Master, for any real or perceived infraction
by the Slave, or for any other purpose whatsoever."

    "The Slave understands that, by entering into this Agreement,
the Slave renounces all legal rights and recourse."

    "Agreed to on [date]."

    She finished reading then sat quietly, her eyes lowered. I
tossed a pen onto the table, and it skidded to a stop on the
parchment.  The sound of the pen hitting the table startled her,
and she jumped. "Sign it," I ordered. After a moment's
hesitation, she picked up the pen and signed the parchment at the
bottom, with barely a tremor in her hand. Then she placed the pen
back on the table sighed heavily, and resumed her pose. I
couldn't remember anyone before who had performed the ceremony
with such poise. Training her was going to be an exquisite
pleasure.

    "Stand up," I commanded, and she rose in one fluid motion. I
stepped down from the "throne", gathered up the bonds, and went
to put them on her. They were custom sized for her, manacles for
each wrist and ankle, a collar for her neck, and a waist belt.
They were made of high strength stainless steel, mostly for
effect - much lighter hardware would have been adequate to simply
restrain her. The collar and belt were segmented for flexibility,
but the wrist and ankle manacles were solid metal, with a single
strong hinge opposite the locking clasp. Each could be removed
with the same small key. Each was provided with numerous simple
attachment rings around its circumference, but also had a special
set of quick-connect attachments, that allowed the wrists to be
quickly and easily hooked together either in front or behind, or
attached to her belt, collar, or any other fixture having similar
attach points.

    She stood quietly while I put the bonds on her. They were all
slightly too snug, especially the waist belt, since our plan for
her training included a rapid body fat reduction and a weight
loss of between 10 and 15 pounds. When all the bonds were
secured, I attached her left wrist to the belt, behind her back,
then attached her right wrist to the left one. Her hands were
effectively crossed at the wrists, behind her back.

    Touching her bare skin for the first time, I grasped both of her
shoulders from behind, and felt her continuous trembling. I spoke
softly in her ear, "Your life will be lived by strict rules from
this time on. Here are your first two rules: One, every command
must be obeyed instantly. No exceptions, no hesitation. You will
comply with each and every command you are given, either
immediately or after whatever punishment and coercion is
necessary to obtain your compliance. Obedience will be much
easier for you than resistance. You will not be able to avoid
pain, but total and instant obedience will minimize the amount of
pain you receive. Two, never speak unless you are ordered to
speak. Even if you are asked a direct question, do not answer
until you are told to answer. Nod your head if you understand
these rules." She nodded her head slowly.

    Still holding her by the shoulders, I turned her to face the
darkened room, and felt her take a deep breath. "Go through the
door," I ordered. "When you enter the room, a single light will
come on, illuminating a spot on the floor. Go to the illuminated
area, turn facing the door, kneel in the posture you were just
shown, and wait." I gave her a push, and she began walking. I
watched her go through the door, then pause the few seconds it
took for the room to recognize her and activate the spotlight.
She walked to the illuminated circle, turned, knelt, and
positioned her body as she had been told. As she raised her eyes
and looked at me, the door began to close automatically, and she
gasped. Then the door locked with a loud metallic click.

I folded the Agreement and put it in my pocket. She had no
knowledge of the law, and to her the Agreement represented a
commitment to a new way of life. But in fact it was meaningless
mumbo-jumbo. The video and audio recordings of her reading the
Agreement was all we needed, I would burn the parchment later.

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