Ruby’s New Life Ch. 12

When I was back at school I felt oddly at ease. Being home had been a break from the structure and routine but now it felt comforting to be back where I knew what to expect. I suppose that’s the lifestyle. The restrictions ultimately become our comfort.

Back to classes and uniforms and anal training and my beloved audio training that had become my escape. I couldn’t wait to see the changes made to my playlist. I had mentioned to Kyle my concerns with jealousy and he had made contact with the school. I had also been assured that this would be addressed in my Etiquette class.

This term my classes were Etiquette, Submission, Technique, and Advanced K-9. I’d already fucked dogs, what else was there to learn?

Naomi and Tasha were just as happy to be back as I was. Wedding plans and getting the kinks ironed out with our homes was taking its toll.

Naomi was not loving her new Mother-In-Law. “She is absolutely up my ass about everything. I mean, I love her but…. I hate her. I want to make the decisions about our home myself and she fights me on everything, then Sasha has to step in and remind her of her place. It’s nice to be back at school with some peace and quiet.”

I felt bad for her, “I’m sorry, sweetie. Hopefully she’ll stop soon.”

“Is Kyle’s mother a nightmare?” Naomi hadn’t spent much time with her, so I wasn’t surprised by her question.

“Not at all, she’s amazing. She’s been a HUGE help to me through all of this. I can talk to her about anything. It’s nice, since my mother is against the lifestyle.”

Tasha knew Mother and backed me up, “Yeah, Kyle’s mom is like, the dream mother-in-law, seriously. I mean, Ryan’s mom is sweet but she’s so mousy. No fire in that woman whatsoever. Not an opinion to be had. Ryan says that’s what he likes about me, I have a mind of my own.”

“What’s your first glass, girls?” I really wanted to have classes with them this last term.

We compared out schedules and noted that though we had a few of the same classes, none were at the same time.

“Dammit! I was really looking forward to having classes with you guys.” I felt like pouting.

“Ruby, they wouldn’t allow that, knowing how close we all are. The point of being here at school is to learn to come OUT of our comfort zones and focus. It would be fun, but part of me knew already.”

“I guess so. Well, see you girls at lunch, good luck!” The first day of classes was always so nerve-wracking. We never knew what to expect and we were always plunged head first into whatever we would be learning.

Etiquette didn’t seem so daunting and I was curious about so many things. The professor was a woman; of course we were to call her Mistress and nothing more. She was tall and blonde with a stoic expression. I imagined her with an English accent. I was wrong.

“Ladies. Those of you in this class either need refinement or were not born into this lifestyle.” I swear her eyes darted to me when she said that, “No matter how well you’ve done thus far, there are social situations that require you honor a code in our lifestyle. I’m here to help you learn that code. Each day we will discuss a situation and we will go over the etiquette in said situation. If we have time for more than one, so be it. You may submit situations in the anonymous suggestion box on my desk if there is something specific you would like to discuss with the class.”

Mistress held up the box and shook it for emphasis, “Make them good, challenge me.” She smiled and returned to the front of the class, “Now, please re-arrange your desks into a semi-circle. This is intimate discussion and dialogue, we should be a bit less informal.”

We did as we were told and waited for the day’s situation.

Mistress read from a sheet of paper, “Your husband is away on business and you are running the household on your own. Unexpectedly, one of his colleagues stops by for drinks, not knowing your husband is away. During your polite visit, he requests to relieve himself in your mouth. Do you obey?”

A short girl with red curls piped up, “Yes! He’s a man in your home, you should obey.”

Another girl behind me said, “No! Your husband isn’t home and his presence is inappropriate.”

Then the arguing began, “What should you do, refuse him at the door!? I would be beaten!”

“A good man would never drop in without a phone call ahead.”

As they shouted, only one simple question burned in my mind, so I raised my hand.

“Yes, Ruby?” The arguing ceased and all eyes were on me. Now my question seemed juvenile.

“Um, what color is my heart?”

“Excuse me, dear?”

“The heart my husband has put around my neck, clearly defining my boundaries. What color is my heart in this scenario?” My face felt hot. It WAS a dumb question. I knew it.

“Ruby, that is quite possibly the best thing said in this classroom today. Girls, the color of your heart is white. Now Ruby, what should you do?”

“Politely remind him of the restrictions made upon me and ask the door man to escort him out?”

“Close, dear. You should first apologize for not making it clear, then point out the color of the heart around your neck and be silent. He will then excuse himself to use the facilities and either return or bid you good night. You should never ask a man to leave your home, it’s considered rude.”

“That being said, if he refuses to leave and you are faced with a problem, you may enlist your staff to do what is necessary to remove him from the property and notify your husband immediately. Remember that our society and our lifestyle requires strict adherence to the rules. Anyone who blatantly breaks the rules is punished, including men. A man who would do such a thing to another’s property will certainly have repercussions, if not expulsion from our town.

That went quickly, ladies! Shall we try another?” She glanced at her paper, “Ah. Alright. You are at a family dinner with your in-laws. No children are present. During family time in the study, your father-in-law has one too many cocktails and opens his pants, asking you to sit on his lap. What do you do?”

I cringed at the thought. In front of Mother and Kyle and who knows who else? It was entirely undignified.

“Ask my husband for permission?”

“Do it, he’s the patriarch of the family!”

“Ask my MOTHER-IN-LAW for permission.”

“Same as the last question. Remind him of the color of my heart.”

Mistress intervened, “The color of your heart is black. No restrictions.”

The deliberating went on for a while, Mistress quiet and enjoying the banter. I was quiet as well, considering every option that was being yelled out.

Finally, Mistress held her hands up to stop the debate. “All good answers, but only one of you got it right. Amy, you were correct. The code states that if you are required to be penetrated, that you remove all clothing. A black heart has no restrictions and it means just that; NO. RESTRICTIONS. So you would politely say ‘Yes, Sir.’, remove your clothing and obey.”

I was sick to my stomach. I hoped my father-in-law could handle his liquor. Definitely didn’t want a black heart.

We were all handed a copy of Lifestyle Etiquette and our assignment was to read the first chapter and write a paper in our own voice, stating our feelings and opinions about the situations discussed in class. Emily Post definitely missed this volume.

On my way to Submission class, we girls got a few minutes to chat. I learned that the girls had grown up with a copy of the code in the locked bookcase. When they turned 16, their mothers read through it with them and explained things about the lifestyle. It made me wish my own mother hadn’t left.

The Submission teacher was a man with a very stern demeanor. He was handsome and tall, his head was bald and he had stylish black-framed glasses on.

As class began, we were all handed a paper that simply said:

No Hesitation

No Questions

No Arguments

No Defiance…

No Spankings.

“Good morning. It makes no difference who I am, in this class you will address me as ‘Sir’ and nothing else. The sheet you have been given are the only things you will learn in this class. You will find it’s far more difficult than you imagine.” He pointed to a girl in the front row, “You. Come here.”

The girl rose from her seat and went to the front, facing the teacher with her hands folded in front of her, looking nervous. She looked up at him, wondering what came next.

“Wrong move, sweetheart. Let me introduce you to my horse.” He wheeled out a saw horse of sorts with padding so that we could bend over it about waist height and two tall poles to hold onto when you bent over it.

“Now, flip up that tiny skirt of yours and bend over my horse.” The girl did as she was told and braced herself. Sir grabbed a riding crop from his desk and give her 5 lashings on each cheek. Her whimpers were muffled with tears.

“Return to your desk.” He waited until she had gingerly sat down on her sore cheeks before speaking again, “Can anyone share with me which mistake our girl made that warranted punishment?”

Hands raised and someone Sir pointed to answered meekly, “She looked you in the eye?”

“Precisely. But more importantly, she looked me in the eye with a questioning look. No questions, ladies. It’s not as if eye contact isn’t allowed, but it certainly isn’t submissive and that is what this class is about. If you are summoned, you wait for instruction with your eyes down. Submissively.”

Sir grabbed a dictionary from a table in front, “The definition of ‘Submissive’ is ….. ‘ready to conform to the authority or will of others; meekly obedient or passive.’ You must always be ready to conform to the authority of your master, of any man summoning you, of men in general. You are not some free-will shouting hippies, you are refined, obedient, giving wives who know their place in our order.”

He slammed the dictionary on the girl’s desk he had whipped, “You will be meekly obedient and passive. Your husbands expect this of you, do NOT embarrass them.”

He continued, “In this class you will keep your eyes on your desk and listen. Your desk has a number on it. I will use that number to call on you if I need you. You will treat me with the same submissive respect you would your husband while we are here. I will make sure that you learn to do this automatically, without thought.”

He paced the floor, “You will be your husband’s most prized possession. You will be his gift to the world. You represent his virility, his power, his prowess. If you make rookie mistakes, you embarrass him and shame him to the world. Do you understand?”

In unison, we all spoke, “Yes, Sir.”

“This is not slavery, you are entering into these agreements of your own free will. But you are acting as a possession, not an equal. You are not here to serve, there are hired people for that. You are here to please. What is pleasing to a man, you may be wondering? Obedience is pleasing. No man wants to argue with his woman. He simply needs you to do as you are asked, as you are told, and be pleasing. Submission is pleasing. Nothing makes a man feel more virile than a beautiful woman by his side whom he has shaped, quite literally judging from the new bodies some of you have, into his ultimate fantasy. Having her disobey him or question him … is a direct hit to his very manhood.”

“You have your rules for this class. Each time you break one of these rules, you have seen what will happen. If you are a woman who enjoys spankings, then you understand the need for this punishment. It brings you back to where your focus should be: on your man. If it turns you on, then you have brought yourself back to focusing on pleasing your man.”

“Number 16! Come to the front please.” Shit, I was number 16! I slowly got up and meekly made my way to the front, keeping my eyes down. I could see his cock growing in his pants.

“Kneel down and take my cock out.” I didn’t dare flinch, I just did as he instructed. Was I allowed to touch other men? Was doing it in class acceptable?

“Take me in your mouth.” I opened wide and secured my big lips around his dick, waiting for instruction. But he just grabbed the back of my head and started to fuck my face. I had trouble finding a rhythm so I could breathe, but eventually managed short breaths between slams. He was not a large man and didn’t push down my throat, rather just hit the back of it. Spit ran down my chin and down my neck and my eyes began to tear up, but I kept my eyes down and let him use my mouth. I could feel my pussy getting wet, hoping for penetration. It had been so long since a man was inside of me.

The wetter I got, the more willing I was to let him use me. Finally I could feel him stiffening and he even grew a little so that the head of his cock started pushing its way down my throat. When he slammed my face into his crotch and shoved the head down my throat, I started swallowing to make sure it went down the right way.

When he was satisfied that he was finished, he pulled out only so far to let his dick rest on my tongue, “Clean me off. And make sure you milk the bottom to be sure that all of my seed is in your mouth. A man hates it when his cum dribbles into his pants.”

I did as instructed until he was squeaky clean, then tucked his cock back into his pants, zipped and buttoned them and secured his belt. I was afraid to stand up, so I just stayed kneeled down and waited, nervously. Oh God, did I forget something?

The silence was deafening.

“Very good. You may return to your seat.” I blushed with pride as I returned to desk #16.

“Notice how she never once made eye contact, not even when I was fucking her face. If you look at your man during this act, you are questioning him, wanting answers from him. That is not relaxing and that is not pleasing, ladies.”

This class had a few books we were to read about submission, basic sex slave traditions, and punishments. The way it struck fear into us made me think of what I knew of Stockholm syndrome. Were we simply becoming sympathetic to our captors? Were we really here of our own free will? I didn’t know anymore.

At lunch, the girls could tell I was upset. But how could I talk to them about what I was thinking? They had grown up in this life, they didn’t know any other way. I decided to write an email to my mother, which I had to request permission to do. The Principle would contact Kyle and my Grandfather and if permission was granted, I was to blind copy them both on the email I sent.

My day was already overwhelming and I wasn’t looking forward to my afternoon classes.

Technique class proved interesting. For our first day, we were each given a young man about our own age to practice on. What was more interesting was watching the professor demonstrate on her own male model as she instructed us.

“Your model is now flaccid. If you are presented with a flaccid penis, you will first lay the member on your tongue and offer your mouth for the man to relieve himself if he wishes.” She demonstrated and we all followed with our own model.

My model let his urine flow into my throat and I could feel him relax as I dutifully swallowed. When he was finished, I stayed ready, waiting for instruction with my eyes on his lower abdomen.

“Now, if a man does not wish to relieve himself, he will tap you on the forehead, signaling you to begin fallatio.” The male models tapped our foreheads and we all began licking and sucking the cock in front of us, determined to entice it into erection.

“Never ignore the head of the penis. And always spend time on the underside of the cock where there is another sensitive region. I have had girls ask about uncircumcised men. You will not find any in our society. We religiously believe in circumcision and it isn’t a choice. I apologize for that, but that’s the rule. Occasionally your husband will bring home a business associate that may be uncircumcised that you are required to service. These techniques are covered in the text you will be reading in this class.”

She kept talking us through the blow job in front of us, giving us tips and tricks and if any one of us was running into problems, she was behind us, helping. I had never been coached on a blow job before and I had to admit, it was nice to be given some guidance. I learned things I had never known.

By the time we were all finished and had swallowed, we stayed with the shrinking cocks on our tongue until everyone was done.

“Now, sometimes after an orgasm, a man will want to relieve himself a second time. You wait for this. If you receive a tap on the forehead instead, you are free to clean the cock, milk it for leftover semen and dress the man as needed.”

We obeyed and only a few girls had to drink piss a second time. After lunch, it was hard not to feel bloated drinking that much liquid on a full stomach. One girl excused herself and ran to the bathroom to vomit.

“And that, ladies is why it’s important to learn relaxing your throat, blocking out that gag reflex and most importantly….not overeating!” The class giggled at her joke.

By the time I walked into my Advanced K-9 class, I could think of nothing better than having a release, animal or human-induced didn’t matter.

In class was the trainer with six dogs obediently sitting in wait and our professor, the same woman that taught my other K-9 class. She was very experienced and she made us all feel safe working with the animals and dispelling our fears.

“Welcome ladies. You may be wondering what more you can possibly learn about working with dogs.” We all smiled in agreement, “Performing these acts is one thing, perfecting them another and …. Performing them and enjoying them in the presence of others is quite another. Who has an experience from over the break regarding this subject that they would be willing to share with the class?”

I raised my hand and shared my story with Blake and Chef. I shared my feelings and fears on the matter as Mistress nodded with understanding.

“That is exactly what this class will address. Thank you for sharing Ruby. Now, you have all become comfortable with the animals, but losing yourself in the act in front of a group of men… how will you feel then? In front of your staff? At a garden party or a family function? What are the rules, how do you behave, what about your own shame and embarrassment?”

Fair points. The thought of being taken by Blake in front of my father-in-law was absolutely mortifying.

“Rest assured, everyone will enjoy the show and you have nothing to be shy about. It’s an internal struggle that you must overcome. Not all families have dogs, but the act itself is more common than you realize and when you’re faced with these situations, you must know how to act to avoid embarrassing your husband and ultimately, avoid punishment.”

Mistress approached my desk, “Ruby. Since you shared your own feelings, let’s help you overcome some of those demons. Come to the front, please.”

I walked to the front and Mistress told me to undress. Being naked wasn’t an issue anymore, I was used to it among the girls at school.

“Present for the dogs and do as they wish. Their nails have been capped with rubber cabs, they won’t scratch your skin here.” She waved a hand at the trainer and he gave the dogs their command, “At ease!”

Mistress began discussing with the class more techniques to overcome shyness with bestiality as the dogs began to sniff at me. We hadn’t covered multiple animals and I had no idea what would happen. I was terrified and felt scrutinized at the same time as I knew the whole class was watching, including the trainer. My heart begin to pound and I felt adrenaline rush into my veins.

There was growling and snarling among the dogs as they established their pecking order before I felt one actually mount me. I loved the caps on the nails as he held me in place around my waist, I felt no scratching. He found his mark quickly and began pounding at me. I opened up to let him in deeply and moaned. It felt so good to be filled and used after a long day of new classes. My brain had been so full before that moment. As soon as he entered me, I felt the stress move aside to make room for him. I felt eyes on me and my face flushed, imagining what it must look like, my body being violated in front of all of these people.

The dog’s knot began pushing into me and the trainer moved behind me to hold the dog’s hips back so he couldn’t tie to me. “No time for that, big boy.”

Hot doggy cum filled me and with a yelp, my master dismounted. The next dog licked at the river of semen pouring out of me and when he was satisfied, mounted me and took his turn breeding with the bitch.

Dog after dog filled me with his seed as the class watched the gangbang in fascination and tried to stay focused on the conversation with Mistress. I had never had that many dogs and the sensations were overwhelming. My mind was being pulled in all directions. Focus on the dog inside of you, focus on Mistress, focus on the shame of being gangbanged by dogs while your classmates watch.

Everything from the day’s classes rushed into the forefront of my mind at once. Obedience. Meekness. Obey, obey, obey. Eyes down. Pleasure.

I usually waited until I was knotted to touch myself and get off, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do that in front of an entire class. I was so turned on by the time the last dog began licking me and nowhere near an orgasm. The shame and embarrassment was intense and I couldn’t stay focused on the pleasure long enough. I was desperate, ready to beg for release.

During the last dog’s pounding, I realized if I didn’t get there now, I would stay frustrated and nearly dizzy with pent up insanity. I tried to match the dogs rhythm and reached down to fondle my clit and get myself there. Room full of people or not, I was ready to have a mental tantrum if I didn’t get some release. I finally managed to shut out the crowd and focus on the pleasure of the moment. I let go and went inward.

I felt the sensations of being fucked hard, taken and enjoyed by my master, Mistress faded from existence. The girls in the class disappeared. All I cared about was my own orgasm. I worked my clit until every nerve in my body connected and heightened with pleasure all at once and the moaning scream that escaped my throat sounded foreign to even myself. I was completely immersed in my own pleasure and I had never felt an orgasm like that in my life. I was dizzy and confused. Where was I? How long had I been here? Where had I gone?

The dog dismounted and I was left there, being licked and cleaned by the dogs, none of them ready to re-mount.

When class was over, Mistress dismissed the class and came to help me up, “Very impressive, Ruby. You really let go and walked into the fog, there, lady.”

“That’s never happened before. I wasn’t expecting it.” I felt weird, like I was in a daze. What had I done? Mistress helped me dress and drain more semen from myself before I walked to my room.

“I suggest you go straight to your room, retrieve your meditations and find a quiet spot to keep that inward energy flowing. It’s so therapeutic for someone like you who didn’t grow up in this environment. I’ll escort you. Get your books.”

I grabbed my book back and walked with Mistress out of the class, “Just keep your head down as we walk and keep your thoughts on all that just happened and the hurdles you have overcome. Don’t talk to anyone.”

The girls rushed around me but Mistress silenced them and kept me walking. I replayed the events of last class in my mind, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I felt the shift. I felt like a walking zombie, I worried I was going insane.

When I had my MP3 player, Mistress guided me across campus to a small hill with a tree planted at the top, “Sit here and look out at the landscape as you listen.” She took my device, found the meditation she deemed appropriate and get me set up and ready, “When this one finishes, we’ll go have dinner.” She pressed ‘play’ and moved down to the bottom of the hill to sit on a bench with a book.

This meditation had soothing music, as some of them did. It helped carry me and keep me tuned in. General relaxation breathing, then the conditioning began. It felt like quiet cheerleading, “…and when you break through those doors in your mind, you leave your moral conditioning behind. Your shame disappears and you entirely give over your body and soul to the Lifestyle, to the men who take care of you and worship you. You see that it isn’t control, it isn’t slavery; those notions seem far behind you. This is worship at its most raw and primal. You worship every man’s power and intellect and feed it with your obedience. Men worship you with their desires, their desperate need to commune with your body and fill you with their essence. They need your body to reach The Divine and in return, they lift you to the euphoric heights needed for you to do the same.

“You have arrived at the center concept of The Lifestyle you are entering; mutual admiration and worship. You want to be worshipped; you want to feel The Divine fill your body. Letting go and submitting your body to worship is the only way to fill this within yourself. Men will not ask you to do anything that brings you harm, you trust their instruction. You trust that their instruction will bring you to a place of blissful worship and you obey. You obey without thought, without question. And you are rewarded.

This place of total submission in your mind is where you let go, where you enjoy this Lifestyle with total abandon. Feel it completely. Form walls around it and give it a name. Decorate it as you wish in calming colors and soft surfaces so that while you are here, you are at peace and in total comfort. This is where you come to relax into your submission and be thankful for all that is given to you by men. Remember the way here, map it in your mind.”

I pictured my pleasure den black, every surface soft and fuzzy and plush. The dark a beautiful contrast with my body and my skin, making me stand out and feel sexy and feminine. Against the dark background, I stood out but was totally alone, floating in the void. Out the door was a hallway with lanterns along the walls, I mapped it through my mind and when the meditation was over, I emerged into reality.

I felt different. Something had snapped in my mind. I was confused.

Mistress saw me stand and stood herself, waiting to escort me back, “Ruby! Just look at you. I can’t wait to share with your fiancé the breakthrough you had today. I’m so honored that it happened in my classroom!” She was beaming. I wasn’t exactly sure what she was talking about.

We made our way back to the main walkways, Mistress guiding me as I kept my eyes down. She ran interference with girls who wanted to speak with me and staff who wanted to know why I was not in the dining hall or studying. No words, just hand gestures as she led me into her office.

She had me lay on her window seat as she ordered dinner for us and worked on grading papers while we waited.

We ate in silence as she held space for me to process what I was feeling. I felt blank, like I didn’t understand the world anymore. I didn’t want to email my mother. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. I had no idea what came next. I ate like a robot, not really tasting the food or drink.

When Mistress had me back in my room, she removed my anal plug, waited while I cleaned up and tucked me into bed with my MP3 player on a list entitled, “Breakthrough”.

“By the time you drift off, the really juicy stuff on here will kick in. You’ll feel better by morning, I promise. Let it all sink in and sort itself out. When you wake up, don’t go to class. Head to the main office and they will instruct you from there.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I closed my eyes and listened to the music in my ears, letting it drift into my mind. I slept with a peace I had never had before. I didn’t dream. All I could remember when I woke up was laying in that pleasure den, engulfed in plush darkness without a care in the world.

I sat up on my bed and took my ear buds out, wrapping the cord carefully around the MP3 player and setting it on my night stand. I looked up at my roommate across from me. Her face studied mine, “What happened to you?” She looked almost shocked.

“Yesterday was strange.”

“No shit.” We made eye contact for a few minutes and she held it as if she was looking for something, “Welcome to OZ, Dorothy.”

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