Unconditional Submission

Absorbing the Pain

In the hallway, Clark stopped abruptly and I skidded to a stop a few paces behind him. When he whirled around, I wanted so badly to look up and see how unhappy he was with me, but I kept my eyes down until further instruction.

"Down," he ordered cooly with a snap of his fingers. Down meant hands and knees. If he wanted me on my knees, he would have specifically ordered knees or he would have simply snapped at the floor.

I lowered myself without hesitation but I moved slowly, a little less familiar with this position. When my hands and knees were pressed firmly against the cool hard floor of the medieval-like hallway, he lowered to one knee in front of me. A firm hand gripped my chin and lifted my head.

"Eyes."

I obeyed. His mouth was no longer set in a firm line, but his brow remained darkly furrowed.

"Walking is a privilege. You have lost that privilege by forgetting a very simple request."

A very simple request... 

His words echoed in my skull and I only had to mull over them for a moment before I realized with great horror the grand mistake I had made.

Clark wasn't displeased with me for my lack of focus; at least not entirely. Before class he had given me one simple task to follow: "It's Master," he had told me. "I'll not have you calling me by the same title you call every other man who addresses you."

He told me bluntly that there would be consequences if I forgot his very simple request. And it was; it really was a very simple request, and in my panic to answer him as quickly as possible when he tried to grab my attention, I addressed him incorrectly. In front of his professor no less.

My bottom dropped to the tops of my feet. If I had been standing, my knees would have buckled. I closed my eyes and whimpered, so desperate to offer an apology.

"I didn't expect to have to discipline you on our first day, Katherine," he mused gently but the hard displeasure was there, making me wish the stone tiles beneath my hands and knees would swallow me. Something in his eyes said that he didn't want to discipline me, and when I found disappointment there as well, I nearly cried.

"Come." 

He released my chin and turned around. I crawled forward until I was directly at his side.

"We will deal with this now." 

He stepped forward and I moved immediately with him.

When crawling, submissives were meant to keep up with their Masters. To my relief, Clark made this easy for me. He was in no rush. He walked at an easy pace that allowed me to crawl as gracefully as I was trained without having to scurry along clumsily.

Further down the hall, a series of wooden doors loomed intimidatingly from the left. The first he tried was locked. The second wasn't and the gold knob turned easily with a faint click. As the door swung open, he stepped back and gestured me in with a brusque wave of his hand. Dread weighed deep within my gut as I crawled forward, moving as slowly as possible to delay the wretched and inevitable punishment awaiting in that room.

Since the dominants and submissives were required to be supervised fully for the first two to three weeks of the project, that meant discipline would not be delivered privately until the final week when the submissives were meant to pair several days unsupervised. That meant that behind a wide mirror on the far left of the Discipline Room, a professor was always present to properly watch and report any unnecessary violence. There was also a camera that automatically began recording from its place up high in the far left corner as soon as a dominant and his submissive entered.