Page 18
It’s a mind shift
T oo shy to ask Mr. Onassis the question, I remain mute as I follow the others out the door. But halfway down the hallway, I realize that I’m still holding my pencil and hurry back to drop it off.
I accidentally walk in on Mr. Onassis talking to Miss Diaz, and am grateful that the two have their backs turned toward me. I have no desire to listen to him reprimanding her, but I happen to catch concern in his voice when I overhear him gently encouraging Miss Diaz to continue the class.
I quietly set my pencil down outside the door and hurry up to join the others. Despite Mr. Onassis’s strict demeanor, it’s obvious that he cares about his students. Knowing that gives me a sense of confidence as I go to face my very first practicum—whatever it is.
As we’re walking down the hall together, I listen to some of the students whispering nervously amongst themselves. But, I also notice the experienced submissives striding well ahead of us who appear to be eager. Trusting they know what’s about to happen, I head into room 1008 with anticipation.
As soon as I enter, I see a table on the other side of the room with four people seated behind it. I gulp when I notice the giant redhead I met on the elevator staring back at me.
I shift my gaze to the other trainers at the table as I stand in line beside my classmates. I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Mr. Wallace. He looks especially dashing without the mask, dressed in a tailored blue suit and tie that complements his ocean blue eyes.
When our eyes meet and he nods to me, I can’t help smiling. The trainer beside him is a small woman with bright red lipstick and jet-black hair pulled back in a tight bun. The final trainer is an attractive older gentleman with glasses and a decidedly Mediterranean look.
Waiting for the last of the students to join our line, I scan the room and find it’s filled with unusual black chairs that have odd-looking armrests. My heart skips a beat, wondering what they are used for.
Mr. Wallace stands up to address us. “Welcome to your first practicum. Tonight, we plan to challenge your perceptions.”
I glance down the line at the more experienced submissives, wondering if they know what he means by that.
“As your trainers, we are only interested in investing time with those students who desire to work hard, strive to keep an open mind, and are committed to inner growth. Some of you may be unsure if you are prepared for that. Tonight, we plan to make that abundantly clear to you.”
Looking at each one of us in turn, he states, “You are allowed to leave the program at any point, or you may be asked to leave by one of your instructors. In either case, your tuition will be returned to you.”
The guy who had the iPad asks the question I have been wondering about the entire evening. “Why would you want to cut us from the program?”
Mr. Wallace turns to him and raises an eyebrow. “You will address me as Headmaster.”
Lowering his head, he says respectfully. “Yes, Headmaster.”
“In answer to your question, Mr. Carlisle, our students’ well-being is of utmost importance to us and we are committed to doing whatever is deemed necessary to protect it.”
Mr. Wallace picks up his tablet from the table. “We looked over the forms you filled out concerning your preferences. The partner chosen for you for this first practicum has been selected based on your answers.”
My heart flutters when I realize I’m about to meet a man who checks all my boxes!
“Take your place beside one of the—”
Mr. Onassis knocks on the door frame. “Excuse the interruption.”
I’m relieved when I see the lone wolf standing beside him. “I needed to speak to Miss Diaz after class and apologize for keeping her so long.”
Headmaster Wallace gestures to the chairs. “Fortunately, we were just about to begin.”
He then addresses her, “Welcome, Miss Diaz. Join your classmates by selecting a chair.”
Some of the students race to claim the chairs nearest to them, while I head to one far in the back. Standing beside it, I see that the seat and backrest are padded, along with the adjustable armrests.
“You may sit on the chair and wait for one of the assistants to hand you a blindfold.”
I feel the nerves start when two assistants enter the room and begin handing out red strips of cloth. I gingerly take mine, already feeling challenged by this practicum, and we haven’t even begun yet.
Once the assistants have finished passing out the blindfolds, Headmaster Wallace commands in a charming tone, “Tie on the blindfold and lay your calves on the leg rests.”
Leg rests???
Startled, I glance around to see others obediently placing their blindfolds over their eyes. Following their example, I tie my blindfold loosely so I can still see a sliver of light at the bottom.
My anxiety grows when I lie back in the chair and lift my legs onto the leg rests. Even though I’m completely dressed, I’m acutely aware that my legs are spread open.
It’s surreal to think I’m about to have an intimate encounter with a stranger chosen especially for me. I find the idea as exhilarating as it is daunting.
The sexual energy in the room increases when we hear our mysterious partners enter. Not one of them speaks a word, but I see movement next to me and sense that someone is standing in front of me.
Headmaster Wallace states, “Miss Lane, you indicated that you were turned off by men who have missing teeth.”
Alarm bells go off in my head when I answer cautiously, “Yes, Headmaster…”
“Meet your Dom.”
My skin tingles when I feel the man run his hand up my thigh and hear his deep voice when he introduces himself, “My name is Mason, and I am missing both my front teeth.”
I crinkle my nose and frown, unprepared for this unexpected twist.
When I feel my partner’s hands rest on both of my thighs, I’m tempted to call it quits. But I remain silent as I listen to Headmaster Wallace introduce each partner to the room full of students.
At one point, I hear someone shout, “I specifically said I hate hairy men. I’m calling my safeword right now. Red!”
My attention is diverted back to my partner when he murmurs in a husky tone, “I’ve found that my lack of teeth gives me a distinct advantage when I go down on a woman.”
With those words, he gains my undivided attention. Mason lifts the material of my skirt and tugs on my thong. Leaving my hose and shoes still on, he slips it off the thin strip of cloth, bearing my pussy to him.
Staring through the small slit of my blindfold, I catch his movement when he kneels to the floor. I let out a soft gasp when I feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.
But he doesn’t dive right in. Instead, he clutches my round buttocks in his firm hands and makes me wet by kissing the inside of my thigh through the material of the tights, slowly inching closer to my pussy with every kiss.
Growling hungrily, he murmurs, “You smell sweet, cupcake.”
After hearing Mason’s bold claim about his oral skills, I’m now fully invested and anticipating the first lick of his tongue. My heightened senses, because of the blindfold, make this encounter even more thrilling.
I pick up on things I would never have noticed, like his callused hands or the underlying masculine scent under the cologne he’s wearing. They hint at the fact he’s a hardworking man, which I find enticing.
He builds my arousal with every sensual kiss trailing up my thigh. I moan with pleasure when he settles between my legs and finally licks my clit.
“That’s what I like to hear…” he growls in encouragement when I moan.
Mason teases my pussy with his tongue like he owns it. I’ve never had a man who instinctively knew how to stimulate my clit like that. I moan with more passion when he hits the right spot, and my voice joins the others in the room.
It’s a surreal experience to be in a group setting, but I soon get lost in what Mason is doing when he starts sucking my clit while flicking it with his tongue. It’s like my clit is trapped in the perfect space between his teeth.
Mason’s tongue is steady and true, maintaining the same rhythm and pressure as he brings me closer to climax. I start gasping out loud and my thighs begin to tremble.
I’ve never experienced anything this intense. Even though it’s extremely pleasurable, I reach a point where I can’t handle anymore and grab his head, pushing him away.
“I can’t…” I whimper hoarsely.
He groans. “Are you sure? You’re so close.”
“Yes,” I cry, feeling as if I might pass out from the intensity if I let him continue. While I lay there, catching my breath, I hear the others scream out as they orgasm around me.
Once my racing heart starts to slow down, I tell him breathlessly, “I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“Whether it’s hockey or pleasing a woman, I give it my all,” he answers gruffly.
Needing Mason to know I enjoyed our brief encounter, even though I ended it too soon, I lean forward to kiss him. When our lips meet, I smell and taste my own wetness on his lips. It’s an unexpected turn-on for me, and I deepen the kiss.
Our passionate moment is interrupted when Headmaster Wallace orders, “Students, take off your blindfolds and thank your partners.”
I pull off the blindfold and stare at the man who just teased my pussy to distraction. “Thank you, Mason.”
The hockey player smiles at me lustfully, showing off the huge gap in his teeth. He winks as he wipes his mouth. “If you ever want a follow-up, let me know, cupcake.”
After our partners leave the room, Headmaster Wallace addresses the group. “This is an excellent start. As you may have noticed, we’ve already had one student quit.”
I look around the room, surprised that someone is gone. I’d been so caught up enjoying Mason’s tongue that I didn’t even hear the person leave.
Looking at our remaining group of eleven, Headmaster Wallace nods in satisfaction. “Get dressed and stand before the panel for your critique.”
Critique?
I nervously slip my thong back on and stand with the others in front of the table. It isn’t until then that it dawns on me that I should have used a safeword to end the scene.
“Who would like to go first?” the headmaster asks.
Knowing that I’ve failed, I want to curl up and disappear. Rather than spend the time silently berating myself while I wait to be called on, I raise my hand to get it over with.
I notice the slight smirk on the headmaster’s face and wonder if he has guessed my true motive. “I appreciate your enthusiasm in going first, Miss Lane.”
Turning to the panel, he asks, “Dono Marcelo, any thoughts on Miss Lane’s performance?”
The older gentleman with rich olive skin takes off his glasses and looks at me thoughtfully for a moment. “It’s obvious you were enjoying your partner’s attention. What caused you to end it so abruptly?”
“I should have used the safeword,” I blurt.
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I asked.”
I frown and glance down at my feet, struggling to explain myself. “It felt…too intense.”
“As in painful?”
“No…” I answer hesitantly. “It was just too much for me.”
“And how did you express that to your partner?”
“I just said ‘I can’t’ because…I forgot we were supposed to use a safeword,” I mutter dejectedly.
I’m startled when I hear him chuckle. “Safewords are a safety net, Miss Lane. But normal communication between partners is expected and is the key to a healthy scene. You used your words effectively and did nothing wrong.”
I sigh with relief.
The woman on the panel speaks up. “Have you ever orgasmed during cunnilingus?”
I stare at her wide-eyed, surprised she would ask something so personal in front of my peers. “Umm…no.”
She nods and types something on her tablet before adding curtly, “Miss Lane, you did an adequate job being vocal about your pleasure during your scene. It is important for your partner, who relies on those cues to adjust to your needs.”
I feel slightly vindicated after her assessment.
“I agree with you, Mistress Kim,” Headmaster Wallace interjects.
My heart lifts on hearing his praise.
“You were the first to be made aware of your partner’s physical attributes, and yet you did not allow that to sway you. In fact, it was clear to the panel that you enjoyed the session even though your partner did not meet your requirements of desirability.”
I clear my throat, feeling self-conscious hearing that. If I had met Mason anywhere else, I would have been turned off by his missing teeth—and that makes me feel bad. But now, I appreciate the unique talent he’s acquired because of it and find his large gap kind of charming.
The large red-haired trainer speaks with a Scottish lilt, but has a low, gravelly voice that makes me shiver uncomfortably. “Miss Lane.”
When I meet his gaze, his green eyes seem to bore into my soul, making me feel as helpless as an insect trapped in a spider’s web.
“I commend you for not allowing your partner’s physical attributes to color your experience. However, I have concerns. Were you aware of your facial expressions when you learned he had missing teeth?”
I blush, embarrassed when I imagine what Mason must have seen when I was told.
“Be conscious of your body language. You don’t want to give off signals you don’t intend.”
I nod.
He leans forward, lacing his hands together as he gazes at me intently. “By all accounts, the scene you were presented with was a pleasurable one for you, and yet you were afraid to continue. It may simply be this new environment, which you will acclimate to in time. However, you need to be aware of that fear moving forward as it may prevent your growth in this program.”
I feel deflated after hearing his critique. It feels like I already have a mark against me. Still, I keep my chin up and look him in the eyes.
If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll prove to you and everyone here that I’m not afraid.
Each student receives critiques, both positive and negative, which is uncomfortable to witness. But I learn a lot from the trainers’ insights into each student.
Once the panel has completed all the critiques, the four stand up and Headmaster Wallace informs us, “We need time to discuss our observations amongst ourselves before we prepare for the second practicum. An assistant will lead you to the lounge where you will find refreshments waiting. I will come to collect you once we are finished.”
The group files out of the room in silence. In the span of a single practicum, we’ve come to know each other on a level of intimacy that most people never will.
I walk down the hallway beside Miss Diaz, consumed with the knowledge that we have a second practicum tonight.
Considering how impactful this first one was, I can’t even imagine what’s coming!