I'm pacing my room nervously two days later when I hear the click of my lock opening and the door slides back and I see Larissa standing in the doorway, dressed in a form fitting pair of yoga pants and long sleeved top, her raven black hair pulled back into a practical ponytail. She evaluates what I'm wearing, then shakes her head. “Nope, jeans won't do. Is that what Rodrigo told you to wear?”

“He's wanted me wearing these more than the first set of clothes he gave recently, they're more durable,” I tell her. I keep my voice polite, but I'm not calling her Miss unless I have to. “Should I change?”

Larissa nods. “Keep the t-shirt and sweatshirt, but change into something more... I don't know, exercisey?”

I pick up my sweatpants from my small folded pile and hold them up, Larissa nodding. “Perfect. I'll give you two minutes of privacy, those jeans look a little tight for the whole rip and replace act.”

My door closes, and I change quickly, actually having ten seconds to fold my jeans and put them away when she re-opens the door. “Impressive. Well, not the sweats, those are discount store crap, but they'll do for today. Okay, let's get to work.”

“What are we going to do?” I ask, and Larissa stops, looking back at me. “What?”

“Has Rodrigo told you about me?” she asks curiously.

“Just that you are also in The Network, and that you are one of the people that I shouldn't fuck with, in his words. Why?” I ask. “Please... I'm trying to be respectful.”

Larissa thinks for a moment, then nods. “Okay, I can see that. Here's the deal. I promised your owner that I would not touch you sexually in any way. That doesn't mean I won't punish you if you backtalk me, if you get bitchy, or in any way disrespect me. I'm here to train you to be the ultimate woman that you can be. There's a hell of a lot to do with that, and if I come off as crude, mean, or unfeeling for you, tough shit. The fact is, you won the fucking lottery, Jessica.”

“The lottery?” I ask, shocked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Rodrigo is one of the best men that you could ever hope to find. Never mind the shithole that you'd have ended up in otherwise. Has Rodrigo told you what happened to those other girls?” Larissa asks.

“No,” I whimper, chagrined for some reason. “What?”

“Twenty three got on that boat. Twenty two survived to Lebanon, where they were put on various transports to the slave markets and private sales that they were being sent to. Twenty survived to the slave markets. Of the twenty, two will last long enough to 'retire' from being whores or repeatedly raped sex slaves to claim a husband of some sort, most likely a lackey of their brothel owner or sheikh who bought them, given as a reward and to free up space for the next fresh faced girl off the transports. Meanwhile, you have Rodrigo. A man who is strong, powerful, smart... he's everything a real man is supposed to be, and everything a real woman wants. And for some reason, luck or just the fact that he sees you as being potentially able to handle his desires, he chose you. Now, as someone who actually thinks of Rodrigo as a friend, or at least as close to that as we can be in this line of work, I take it upon myself to make sure that you're as ready as you can be to be that woman.”

I blink, stunned not only by the intensity of Larissa's words but also by the horrible fate that I just barely avoided. “He said... he's said he can give me all my wildest dreams if I behave.”

Larissa nods, not surprised. “I've had dozens of men claim the exact same thing. None of them have delivered. But if there's a man I know who could actually back up that claim, it's Rodrigo. Now, let's get your ass to training.”

Three hours later, I'm sweating, dust streaking my face as I do another set of freestanding ballet style squats, my toes turned out as Larissa watches me. “Down... good, keep your hips straight, squeeze the muscles inside you... now up! Squeeze, squeeze, you worthless wench!”

My legs, stomach, ass and even my pussy are throbbing, but not in a good way unfortunately. Instead, since starting work with Larissa, we've been doing a combination of what I can only call yoga, ballet, stretching and gymnastics focusing a lot on what Larrisa calls my 'sensual muscles,' kegels being just a warm-up. I thought I was in pretty good shape for a Master's Degree student, but Larissa has me trembling and on the edge of exhaustion. I complete my squat and stop, unable to do any more as Larissa watches me. “You can do more.”

“Can I?” I ask, even as part of me wants to rise to the challenge. “Why are we doing this, anyway? These exercises?”

Larissa laughs, demonstrating the exact same squat that I've been working on for the past twenty minutes with flawless form. “You, despite your natural talent Jessica, need to work on your stamina, and hours and hours more on your sensual muscles since it's more than just your core muscles or your ass or whatever. Rodrigo's taken you into the back room of the warehouse, yes?”

I blush, nodding. “Yes. You mentioned it before. How do you know about that room?”

Larissa laughs. “Who do you think helped Rodrigo find and obtain all the little surprises he has in there? He and I have never played around, never had sex or explored the possibility of a relationship past being friendly even though I know he could rock my world, but we share a similar point of view. The ability to bring the body and mind to that overwhelming climax of sensation, that truly mindblowing experience... I love being on both the giving and receiving end of it. So I knew that if there was anyone who could prepare you for what he has in mind, it's me. And it gives me a chance to work on my training skills. So I asked.”

“Why?” I ask, watching as Larissa continues her poetic, graceful movements. What's left me gasping and straining for each half inch she does without even trying it seems, an amused expression on her face the whole time.

“Because you have potential. Rodrigo and I both have seen it, but it must be developed. If it isn't, you'll be broken. Therefore, I have agreed to help you push your body, to strengthen your mind. So that when you do find the mental strength to submit to Rodrigo, you'll be capable of giving to him as much as he will give to you. Now... let's work on some flexibility, now that we have the muscles nice and warmed up.”

I'm exhausted, frustrated, but at the same time thrilled by the end of the week as Larissa comes to the villa every day, spending hours with me. We do more than just exercise, we do lessons on how to walk in order to turn a man on, whether it be in sandals, running shoes, or even in the pair of high heels that she brings one day. We go over how to hold our body, how to position a hip, how to even eat with a fork or spoon so that every instant I'm supposed to be projecting strength, power, and seductive energy. I've never felt so tired, but at the same time I've never felt so powerful and undeniably feminine.

“The thing about what Rodrigo wants,” Larissa says on the eighth day of our training, “is someone who can be strong enough that you could walk into a room and have every single man's eyes click as they swing over to follow you as you walk through, while at the same time you'll be undeniably his. You're going to be smart, composed, more than a match for any man in the world.”

“But he still wants me to submit to him,” I note, holding the pose that Larissa has me in, my mind focused on squeezing and tightening my sensual muscles, with the promise later of more direct training when I'm ready. I honestly have no idea what direct training means, but I expect that I might just orgasm from it, I feel turned on half the time training now.

“Submission is not a matter of fate, but a conscious decision,” Larissa says with a chuckle, bringing me back to the moment. “Look at me. I know that I'm skilled enough, smart enough, and strong enough to dominate almost any man. In fact, I have dominated some of the most powerful men in Europe. But that doesn't mean for the right partner, I'm not going to submit. Now, enough talk, I want to see another two centimeters of height in your hips. Push!”

It's the one thing that I don't know about Larissa as we continue. She's told me a little bit about her, snippets of her past growing up in Greece, and I get the impression that whatever it is that she does for The Network, it has something to do with the sexuality that oozes out of almost every movement of her body, but I don't know exactly what it is. I can tell that she's dangerous, almost as dangerous as Rodrigo. But at the same time, as long as I try my hardest with the challenges she puts in front of me, I don't feel at all in danger from her. Other than a few harsh words, she's never had to punish me.

Still, I push my hips up a little higher.

* * *

“Good morning Jessica.”

I'm kneeling on my mattress, dressed in my jeans and button down blouse, and when I look up to see Rodrigo standing in my doorway with his slacks and dress shoes on, a undeniable dark thrill goes through me. I've been training with Larissa for two weeks now, and while Rodrigo has been here to wake me up, have breakfast, and put me to bed, he has spent most of the days themselves away doing work, leaving me in Larissa's hands. It's been both maddening and empowering. In the past two weeks, I'm more woman than I've ever been before in my life. But at the same time, I've been kept in my room more, and I've found myself wishing, hoping to see Rodrigo for just an extra few minutes a day.

“Good morning sir. Did you sleep well?” I ask, really meaning it.

“I did, thank you. And how are you feeling?” he asks, gesturing me up. I get to my feet, stopping when I see that Rodrigo hasn't turned his back to lead me up the stairs to the second floor. Instead, he's looking at me, his eyes taking me in... and he likes what he sees. I feel another warm tingle go through me as he steps closer, brushing his fingers along my left eyebrow and making me shiver in desire. “You've impressed Larissa quite a bit the past few weeks. I apologize I've been so busy that I haven't been able to focus on your training as much as I'd like to.”

The greedy part of me, the woman that I was before, wants to make a snarky comment about how if I was so precious an investment for him, why was I being treated so casually, but that part of me feels... I don't know, less than what I am now? Instead I smile gently and nod. “I'm sure that you've been working as hard as you can. And Larissa has been very generous with her time.”

“Like I said, you've impressed her. But today isn't about Larissa,” Rodrigo says, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Today you're all mine.”

I can't help it, the idea makes me whimper in need, and Rodrigo nods knowingly. “First, let's get some breakfast, and then this afternoon... we're going to need to catch up on the training that we can only do together. So make breakfast big, and lunch light.”

I do exactly as Rodrigo says, setting the plates of polenta, ham and fruit down in twenty minutes while Rodrigo watches, reading a book casually while I work. After I sit down, I notice the book, and I can't help it, I'm jealous a little. Rodrigo notices. “Are you into historical fiction, Jessica?”

“Not really sir. I just... forgive me,” I say, remembering my training and picking up my fork and knife to cut my ham. Rodrigo though reaches out, putting his hand over mine.

“No, go on. What troubles you?”

I swallow, setting down my fork and look at him. “I'm sorry sir, but being in my room... there's a lot of hours to fill, and not a lot to fill them. Larissa explained it to me at one point, the idea is to give me clarity of purpose, to allow me to focus. But....”

“But you'd still like to have a bit more entertainment,” Rodrigo says, and I nod. “We'll see. You've made remarkable progress the past few weeks apparently.”

After breakfast, I clean the kitchen while Rodrigo does the dining room. It's actually one of my favorite things to do in my daily duties, because whenever Rodrigo's been here, he hasn't shirked in sharing the burden with me. We also do the laundry, hanging it outside in the courtyard to dry in the sun before lunch, which I can barely touch I'm filled with so many nerves. Rodrigo watches me, his face filled with amusement and anticipation. “Jessica, are you looking forward to training with me?”

My throat is suddenly dry, and I can only nod, looking down at my vegetable soup. Since starting lunch my nipples have been aching inside my bra, and my panties feel like they've been chafing me in the most pleasant way, my stomach fluttering like I would... like I would before a date.

Rodrigo reassures me as he picks up his spoon and takes another sip of his soup. “Me too. The past two weeks have been as difficult for me as they've been for you. Before we begin, I'm going to ask you... are you ready to call me your Master?”

I gulp, shaking my head. I want to... but I'm too scared, too frightened by what that means. “No sir. My body wants it, but... no, I'm not ready.”

“That's fine,” Rodrigo says, smirking in assurance. “You will be eventually. Let's begin.”

When we get to the training room, I see something different, a sort of padded bench that my mind says belongs in a gym more than a bondage room, but I still take off my clothes, touched when Rodrigo turns on a heater. “Last time, I left you in the cold for too long. You didn't complain though, but still... this is to open up our bodies more. Now, bend over the bench on this side and reach out your arms.”

I do as ordered, and Rodrigo takes the silk cord from the shelf and ties them to knobs on the underside of the foldable bed before bringing them to me and wrapping them around my wrists but not tying them.

“Grab here,” he instructs, his voice commanding but still sensual. I take hold, and he nods. “Good. The rule today is simple. No matter what, unless you use your safe word, you're not to let go of these cords. You remember your safe word, yes?”

“Yes sir. Parmesan.”

Rodrigo nods, reaching underneath me to fondle and tease my right breast a little, flicking the nipple playfully when I gasp, but my hands don't let go of the cords. “Very good. Now, spread your legs and put your feet next to the braces on the stand.”

I obey... it feels good to even think those words, I obey. Rodrigo ties my ankles to the metal legs of the stand and I'm exposed. I can feel my hips pressed upward by the padded bench, my pussy and ass exposed to him even as my breasts hang, full and heavy while the blood starts to rush to my head. Rodrigo goes over to the closet and takes off his shirt, leaving him in just his shoes and his pants as he goes over to the shelf and takes off something, bringing it over.

“These will stimulate you with every movement,” he says, holding them in front of my face. “Do you know what ben wa balls are?”

I look at the metallic golden balls, maybe about an inch wide, joined by a cord of some sort, and shake my head. “No sir.”

“Open your pussy, and I'll slip them inside you,” Rodrigo says, standing up. His hand trails down my spine as he does, sending shivers of pleasure through me as he reaches my waist before reversing, stroking back up. He caresses my back again, rubbing my ass at the end and encouraging me to open my pussy to him. “Very good, my pet.”

His words, so offensive less than a month ago, make me whimper in anticipation as he slips the balls into my rapidly moistening pussy. They're cold at first, but warm inside my body, filling me. I'm shocked and trembling when I go to move, and the balls shift inside me, rubbing my pussy and sending my nerves into pulses of pleasure. “Oh god...”

“Keep them inside you, or else,” Rodrigo warns, massaging my ass and making the balls shift more. It's like a slow speed deep vibrator almost, and my eyes are already rolling back into my head as I feel them twist around each other inside my tunnel. “Next is the clamps.”

“Sir... oh fuck...,” I moan as I think of what's next. I've never had them before, but I've fantasized about them, and feeling Rodrigo twist the adjustment knob around my nipples, tightening them until the pain is hot and fiery but mixing with the pleasure leaves me aching, gasping at each breath as the metal chain in between them sways and pulls at my breasts. “Sir....”

“Yes, my pet?” Rodrigo asks playfully, squatting next to my head so that I can look at him. His torso's starting to develop a little sheen of sweat, and I'm aware for the first time how warm the heater he's turned on has made the room. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

“It feels so good,” I moan. “No... no word.”

“Good. Now I'm getting my riding crop, and I'm going to use it on you. Not hard, but enough that you'll be moved by it. If you let go of the ropes, or if you come before I reach one hundred strokes of my crop, you'll be punished. Do you understand me?” he asks, his voice warm and sensual. “If you last to one hundred, then you can come as hard as you want. Last chance for safe word. Or the other.”

“No sir,” I grit out between clenched teeth, focusing on holding my hands as tightly as possible while Rodrigo chuckles, stroking my hair. He hasn't told me what my punishment is if I let go of the cords... but it doesn't matter, I'm going to make it.

“You're so beautiful, Jessica. I actually hope you make it to one hundred. Tell me, honestly... do you think this arouses me too?” he asks, and I turn my head to him, nodding. “You want to see my cock, don't you?”

“Yes sir,” I moan, the image making my pussy twitch, the balls inside rolling over each other and sending more sparks flying through my body. “But I won't say it.”

“A dare, huh?” Rodrigo says playfully before smiling. “I'm glad to see that Larissa's training hasn't broken your spirit. I don't want breakage, I want submission. Total and complete submission.”

I lower my head, nodding that I understand as Rodrigo gets up and goes to the wall, selecting a light riding crop. “This won't cause damage, just a sting,” he reassures me, swinging the crop. It whistles through the air, but doesn't make any sort of cracking sound as it comes to a stop. “Count them out.”

“One,” I say, and Rodrigo swings, not hard I can tell, but still the leather smacking against my back makes me jump, the motion sending more pleasure tearing through me as the ben wa balls in my pussy and the chain on the nipple clamps both move, electric blue pleasure rippling up and down my body. My eyes shoot open and I gasp, moaning deeply as my pussy heats up more, and I wonder... I was so cocky, but really, can I even last to ten, let alone a hundred?

Still, I'm proud of what I've been able to do the past two weeks, and I'm determined to show my.... I want to show Rodrigo that I can take it. I count off each stroke of his crop on my skin, and he never strikes the same place twice as he moves up and down my body from my knees to my shoulders and back down.

“Ten!” I whimper as he strikes my right hamstring, making my leg half buckle. The balls lurch and the chain nearly sends me over the edge, both of letting go of the ropes but also of coming. I squeeze my hands tight, gritting my teeth as I try to obey Rodrigo's command of focusing on this moment, on the sensations in my body. “Sir... please Rodrigo sir....”

“Are you giving up? Are you too weak for me?” Rodrigo chastises, his voice dropping to dangerous, dark levels, and I shake my head, focusing. I may never call him Master, but I'm not too weak for him. Never.

What follows makes the last training session feel like a warmup, and our first spanking just the tentative first steps as Rodrigo continues. At twenty, I can feel each inch of my skin, even the grip of the floor underneath my toes, and each fiber of the cords in my hands. At thirty my left hand slips, but Rodrigo's wrapping of the cord around my wrist saves me, I'm able to retake my grip before it falls. Forty, fifty, sixty lashes, and my body is washed in pleasure and pain, my skin burning even as my nipples and pussy send ecstasy rolling through my body. My words become little more than gasping grunts, and I can hear the sweat roll down Rodrigo's chest and stomach as he moves around me, striking my ass, my back, my sides.

I should feel worthless, but I don't. With each stinging strike of his crop, I feel instead liberated, stronger. The old me, the one that was worried about student loans and whether I could afford to get the fellowship I wanted is being burned away in the heat of the crop on my back before being washed away in the pleasure that my breasts and pussy are sending through me. At ninety I feel superhuman, grateful to Rodrigo for showing me this part of me, and all I want to do is focus for the next ten strokes so that I can show him that I'm a good girl, deserving and worthy of his cock and his attention.

“Ninety eight,” I gasp in my newfound voice, my body trembling on the edge. The cords are literally shaking, my biceps iron hard I'm pulling on them so hard to keep my grip, and Rodrigo's strike is against my right shoulder. I barely feel it, but still my breasts quiver, the ben wa balls keep up their maddening movements in my pussy, but I can make it. Two more.

“Ninety nine!” I say before the next one, which cracks hard off my ass. I love it, and I barely feel anything as I look forward for the release of the next, final stroke.

“Who do you belong to?” Rodrigo asks suddenly, his heat behind me, his voice deep and powerful. “Are you mine?”

“Yes sir...,” I moan happily, trembling on the edge of total submission. The time for him isn't quite right yet... but it's almost. Rodrigo hums, and I can feel his desire.

“Then... one hundred.”

The crop whistles through the air, scaring me for an instant before it stops, barely slapping between my legs against my clit, and I'm sent hurtling through space, shattered into a million pieces as I come. I'm everywhere, I'm everything, pure joy and pleasure as I want to call out the word he says will bring me even more of this forever and ever, but I can't, I can't breathe. I'm coming too hard, I can't feel anything in my body at all as the whiteness of my orgasm fades to gray, then blackness.

* * *

When I come to, I'm in my room, but things feel different. First off I'm warmer, and I realize that I'm in a pair of satin pajamas underneath a thick comforter. I sigh happily, I must have pleased him very much... but where is he? “Rodrigo?”

The door to my room opens, and Larissa comes in, holding a small camp stool that she puts next to my mattress and then sits down. That's strange.... wait, my mattress is different too, thicker I think. “Larissa?”

“Rodrigo had business to take care of at The Farm,” she says, amusement in her voice. “How do the new clothes feel?”

“Amazing,” I moan happily, before realizing that I should sit up, Larissa is still in The Network and my Rodrigo's peer. Wait, my Rodrigo? I quickly assume my kneeling position, but Larissa waves me off.

“Relax, Jessica. You've earned a little bit of self pampering. I wasn't here when you got started, but I got to watch him carry your unconscious body back here, and I helped him get you arranged. I'm glad he had an extra set of silk pajamas. Actually, I don't think he wears pajamas at all, probably why he had a spare set,” Larissa says. “So... how was it?”

“I've never felt anything like it in my life,” I admit honestly. “Uhm... thank you.”

“For what?” she asks, and I hum, pulling the big comforter up around my neck more.

“If you hadn't worked with me the past two weeks, there's no way that I'd have been able to do it.”

Larissa smiles, nodding. “An honest and heart felt thank you. That's a sign of class that most people never quite get the hang of. I accept. So did you submit?”

“No!” I deny vehemently, then shiver. “I... I was close though.”

“I bet you were,” Larissa says with a chuckle. “Jessica, there's nothing wrong with submitting to him.”

“You say that, but I'm still.... Larissa, I've been held here for a month almost, and the only two people I've seen in that whole time are you and Rodrigo. What if this is just me getting broken down psychologically? What if I'm just getting brainwashed?” I plead. “I mean, you two are criminals.”

Larissa isn't offended, and in fact laughs. “You've finally found the guts to call me what I am without saying it like I'm a piece of shit? You are getting stronger. But I'm mostly laughing because of your worries. Let me ask you Jessica... in the past month, has Rodrigo ever called you worthless?”

“Well, that first few days he was angry at me a lot. And in the first couple of days, he called me bitch a few times,” I admit. “But... well, I think I was being bitchy.”

Larissa snickers, nodding. “We all can be. So, honest question, do you feel like you're being brainwashed? Forced into a way of thinking you don't really want? Sure, your physical freedom is restricted, but has Rodrigo or I ever punished you for your thoughts, instead of your actions?”

“No,” I say firmly. “I've never been punished for my thoughts. Just corrected for my actions.”

Larissa nods, lifting an eyebrow. “So... in helping you find your strength, you're also finding that you want to choose. Jessica, you're close to submitting to Rodrigo because you want to submit to him, that's all. I'll give you some time to think about it while I go get dinner prepared for you. Nothing complex, he's the cook, I can barely make a halfway edible sandwich. Unfortunately, Rodrigo's business will take him long into the night, knowing what it is. I'll be back in about an hour. Until then, relax, recover, and one other thing.”

“What's that?” I ask, and Larissa chuckles. What she's saying is total bullshit, isn't it? But she's making a lot of sense, and I wonder, am I really ready to submit more than physically?

“Rejoice in your strength.”

I'm so fucking confused.