Inside the Hotel Bentmoore: Training Ella

MR. LAMONT LED HER BACK onto Mr. Bentmoore’s private elevator and pressed the button to send them down. Ella noted the panel on this elevator didn’t need any key access to get to the dungeon floor; Mr. Bentmoore didn’t have any restrictions like that. And why would he, Ella thought wryly. It was his hotel.

Ella stood with her feet together, trying hard not to fidget. “Mr. Lamont, could you please tell me where we’re going?”

“Sir.”

“What?”

“From now on, you should call me Sir. Once your training period is over, you can call me Mr. Lamont, or just Lamont, since everyone here calls each other by their last name.”

“But for now, I should call you Sir.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Mr. Lamont gazed at her. “Because it is proper,” he said, “to show respect.” He waited to see if she would argue. Ella, thinking better of it, kept her mouth shut.

When they got to the dungeon floor, Mr. Lamont led her down the dimly lit corridor to another side room, and this time, he did have to take a card-key out of his pocket and slide it through the lock on the side of the door to open it.

As Ella crossed the threshold into the wide room, shock rose in her throat, and her heartbeat began to drum in her chest painfully.

This was a real dungeon room: not a fake one, not a movie set, and certainly not some picture she had glimpsed on the internet. This was a place where people were beaten, mauled, and tortured. What really dumbfounded Ella was that they came here willingly.

Then she remembered: she had come here willingly, too.

Ella had thought she had known what she was getting herself into by taking on this challenge. Now, she was not so sure, but there was no going back. She began to wonder for the first time if she really had any idea what she had gotten herself into. But she had made her deal with the devil, and it was time to pay up. She swallowed down her fear, trying to get her nerves under control.

She could do this. She could.

But when she spoke, her voice squeaked like a scared mouse.

“Are you going to beat me now?”

Mr. Lamont smiled. “Do you want me to?”

The question caught Ella off guard. “No,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “I don’t.”

Mr. Lamont frowned, then shrugged. “Then I won’t,” he said. “That wasn’t what I had been planning to start you with, anyway. I just thought I would indulge you if that’s what you wanted.”

Why would I want that? Ella almost asked. But she stopped, remembering the role she supposed to be playing. She was supposed to be a “sub,” a submissive woman, and a masochist to boot. She was supposed to like that sort of thing.

And then Ella had a flashback of the beating Mr. Bentmoore had given her inside his office, the flogging that had felt so good, especially at the end: naughty, thrilling, and so, so erotic. Thank God she had put a stop to it before it got too far.

But what did “too far” mean? What would have happened to her? And what if they did that to her again, and she wasn’t able to stop it in time?

She vowed, then and there, she would not let any of these people flog her or beat her or whatever they wanted to call it—she would not let them wear her down so hard, she could not pull herself back up. She would maintain control. She would not let them violate her.

With that vow firmly in place in her mind, Ella stood up a fraction taller, and faced her trainer head on.

“What were you planning then, Sir?”

Mr. Lamont raised his eyebrows, detecting the subtle change in her. “First things first,” he said. “Would you like me to show you any of the equipment?”

“Yes.” She wanted to know every piece, every detail, so she could write them down later in her notebook when she got back to her room.

Mr. Lamont drew her attention to the large cross. “This is a St. Andrew’s Cross,” he said. “You’ve probably seen one before, yes?”

“Yes,” Ella said, the lie slipping easily from her lips.

“Over here,” he continued, striding over, “is one of our spanking benches. This is my favorite one.”

“Why?”

“The pads are a little thicker, and the straps a little thinner, than some of our other spanking benches. Little details like that can make a huge difference in the results. The legs on this one aren’t adjustable, but that’s okay with me. Some of the other hosts like adjustable legs.”

“Why?”

“Better access.”

Ella thought wisely not to ask what he meant; she had a feeling she didn’t want to know. She would probably find out eventually anyway.

“Over here is a suspension bar,” Mr. Lamont continued, “and there is a restraining chair. That’s an exam table, as I’m sure you could guess just looking at it.”

Perverts playing doctor, Ella thought, and turned away. “What’s in there?” She asked, pointing to the enormous wardrobe sitting against the wall right in the center of the room. It was made of a rich mahogany, delicately carved, stunning and completely out of place.

“Ah, that’s where we store all our equipment for the room,” Mr. Lamont said. “Every activity room has one. We trade things now and then, move some toys from room to room, but every wardrobe is well stocked with all the basics.”

“Basics? Like what?”

“Chains, whips, crops, canes, cuffs, leashes, straps, gags, blindfolds, blackout masks, paddles—”

“I get it,” Ella snapped. “Thank you Sir.”

Mr. Lamont gave her slanted look, looking amused, then pointed to the other side of the room. “That’s the bed,” he said. “Some of the other beds we have in the other rooms are far more intimidating, but I like to keep things simple.”

The bed was, indeed, simple. It was a perfect square, low to the ground, and covered tightly with a fitted black sheet.

Ella had never seen a square bed before. It looked more like…a stage.

“What’s that?” She asked, pointing to a strange contraption next to the bed. It looked like a small bench, but the top of it was humped, not flat. Looking at it more carefully, Ella realized it was made of two different pieces: the bottom, which was the bench itself, and the top, which was the mounted hump. It looked to be some kind of piece of machinery. There was a smooth, wide, tubular shape coming out of the mound, made of shiny pink silicone.

Ella’s eyes went wide.

There was no question the phallus coming out of the machine was a dildo.

“That’s my favorite toy,” Mr. Lamont said. “It’s very fun, and you’re going to get well acquainted with it today. It’s called a Sybian. I take it you’ve never seen one before?”

“No, never.” Ella had never heard of one, either. The look of it scared her.

“Soon enough you’re going to get to know it up close and personal. But first: let’s get you undressed.”

Ella swallowed and glanced away, feeling her face go red. Mr. Lamont gave her an encouraging smile. “Don’t be bashful, Ella,” he said. “It will be okay, I promise.”

Ella nodded, but couldn’t stop her nerves from shaking.

The moment had arrived. She was really going to have to do this.

She began to strip off her clothes, one piece at a time, and let them fall to the floor.

“Look at me, Ella,” Mr. Lamont said. Ella raised her eyes; they were full of fear. But Mr. Lamont’s grin was wide and warm. “I know it can be hard to undress in front of a man you’ve just met,” he said, coming to stand before her. “But it’s okay. You look beautiful, you know.”

“I know,” Ella snapped, her indignation returning.

Mr. Lamont’s lips curved down into a frown. “Finish,” he ordered. “Take off your bra and panties.”

Without tearing her eyes away from his, Ella peeled off her underwear and flung them to the ground. “What now?”

“Now let me look at you.” Mr. Lamont began to circle her body, taking slow, measured steps, studying her body with a keen and appreciative eye.

Her breasts, soft and round, sloped gently above her ribcage. Her nipples had hardened in the cool room air. With her hourglass waist, flaring hips, and creamy alabaster skin, she stood before him like a renaissance painting come to life.

As he took in the sight of her, Ella bristled. She felt like she was being examined like a slab of meat, and Mr. Lamont’s hungry gaze did nothing to dispel the notion.

“Very nice,” he murmured. “Not a blemish on you, not even a scratch. We’ll have to fix that.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mr. Lamont shook his head. “Nothing you have to worry about right now. But I do think we need to have a serious talk. Put your clothes on the bench over there and have a seat on the bed, Ella.”

Ella put her clothes on the padded bench and sat on the edge of the strange square bed, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Even as Mr. Lamont began to take off his suit jacket and place it neatly next to Ella’s pile of clothes, she had to fight the urge to cover her body with her hands.

“Let’s start with the basics,” he said, fighting the top button on his shirt to get it open, and rolling his head a little once his neck was free. “How many sexual partners have you had in your life?”

“Um…six? Maybe?”

“Good enough. How many long-term relationships?”

“None, I guess. I mean, if they had been long-term, I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”

Mr. Lamont had to smile. “I mean, how many of your sexual relationships did you consider significant?”

“Oh…I guess two.” Her voice went soft.

So did Mr. Lamont’s. “Were they monogamous relationships?”

“Of course.”

Mr. Lamont paused to give her that penetrating stare of is, and Ella realized she had somehow just blundered again. “I mean, I think they were monogamous. If they was sleeping with other women, I certainly didn’t know about it.”

Mr. Lamont sighed. “What’s your favorite sexual position?”

“On top.”

This time, he grinned. “That’s very common, but by the time we’re done with you, you’ll be able to say ‘all of them.’ What words do you use to label yourself?”

“Label myself?”

“Words you give to describe yourself.”

“Um…I guess I’m smart, and stubborn—”

“No, no, no.” Mr. Lamont laughed. “I mean, words you use to describe what you are in the scene.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mr. Lamont narrowed his eyes. “Ella, are you sub? A Domme? A Top, bottom, masochist, sadist, switch?” He paused. “Or do you just not like to put labels on yourself? Some people don’t, and that’s okay.”

“Yup, that’s me, I don’t like to put labels on myself,” Ella answered quickly. She had no idea what some of those labels even meant.

But Mr. Lamont looked at her in surprise. “You must think of yourself as a sub, or at least a bottom, or Mr. Bentmoore wouldn’t have asked me to train you. If you were a Domme, he would have given you to Marissa. Are you any kind of masochist at all?” When Ella failed to answer right away, his eyebrows rose even more. “Do you like pain?”

“I….” Ella swallowed hard. “I guess I do.” The realization startled her.

Mr. Lamont scrutinized her expression. “You’re embarrassed to admit it,” he whispered. “Interesting. But we’ll fix that, too. What have you had used on you?”

“Used on me?” She was sinking fast now, flailing in her own ignorance. Oh God, please don’t let him see through my disguise, she thought.

“Whips? Paddles? Floggers?”

“Flogger,” Ella said loudly. “I’ve had a flogger used on me.” No need to tell him her first time with it had been in his boss’s office, she thought. “And my boyfriend used his hand.”

“Hands are effective,” Mr. Lamont said. “With the right Top, they are all that’s needed. I’m a paddle guy myself…especially impression paddles.” His eyes clouded with lust, then cleared. “But it sounds like you’ve had very little worked on you. This is excellent.”

“It is?”

“Yes, it is. It means I can break you in exactly how I want to.” His smile was wicked. “One last thing. Any hard or soft limits you want to tell me about?”

“Um….”

“Come now, there must be something your boyfriend did to you that you didn’t like.”

“No, not really. I mean, if I didn’t like it, I just told him to stop.” Mr. Lamont stared at her in disbelief, and Ella realized she would have to say something, and fast. “One time he wanted to come on my breasts. I told him no. I thought the idea was gross.”

“So he didn’t do it?”

“No. Like I said, I told him not to.”

“Huh. Sounds like you two had a very easygoing relationship.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Mr. Lamont sighed. “I’m asking you about hard limits now. Do you know if you have any?”

Ella shook her head, and Mr. Lamont gave her a good-natured grin. “That’s okay,” he said. “We can start finding them out together.” Devilish light danced in his eyes. Ella suspected he knew very well she had no clue what “hard limits” meant, and was fiendishly letting her flounder.

“That would be good,” Ella said, her voice clipped.

“Excellent!” Mr. Lamont rubbed his hand together, and Ella noted his hands were wide and veined, with well-trimmed nails. “Well then, let’s get started.” He motioned her to the Sybian. “Say hello to my little friend.”

“Um, hello?” Ella didn’t know if he had been serious or not.

Mr. Lamont laughed. “Oh, Ella, this is going to be fun. Now then: the Sybian is meant to be straddled, like a saddle. I would like you to get on.”

Ella came around the strange contraption, staring down at it like it might pounce on her. As she looked it over, she realized the bench had been cut to the exact dimensions of the machinery sitting on top, with the legs of the bench measured to be just the right height, Ella realized, for squatting.

Wary now, Ella lifted her leg over the Sybian, centered herself, and plopped down. She knew Mr. Lamont was watching her, and had gotten a nice glimpse of her shaved slit as she spread her legs. Now that she was straddled across the strange machine, her pussy lips were pressed into the smooth curved surface.

“Very good, Ella,” Mr. Lamont said, “But you’re not on yet quite right. You’re supposed to be sitting on top of the attachment.” He pointed to the long phallus in front of her.

“What?” Ella squeaked.

“The attachment goes inside your cunt.”

“My what?”

Mr. Lamont shook his head. “So bashful. We will have to work on this modesty of yours.” He pointed. “Just stand up, position yourself on it, and sit back down. It’s not hard. Well, it is hard, but it’s not difficult.” He laughed at his own little joke. “If you need lube, I can provide some. Are you wet enough?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Soon enough, you’ll be creaming every time you look at it. But for now….” He went to the bedside table, retrieved a small bottle of lube, and squirted some on his fingers. Then he came over to the rigid springy dildo sitting atop the machine, and ran his fingers up and down the smooth shaft. “There,” he said. “Get on.”

Ella touched the “attachment” with weak fingers. Trembling, feeling like her knees were about to give way, she lifted up her body, angled herself just so…and slowly, very slowly, slid her body back down on the hard blunt plastic that filled up her pussy. As she felt her butt touch bottom, she bit her lip, trying to get used to the strange sensation of the large dildo inside her.

“Very good, Ella,” Mr. Lamont said, pleased. “Now that you’re sitting, let me tell you what this little machine can do: it can help you get the best orgasms you’ve ever had.” He laughed when Ella gave him a startled look. “Oh yes, this machine can show you what your body is truly capable of, and in no time at all. But there’s no reason I should try to convince you. I’m going to show you.”

“How?”

Mr. Lamont picked up a control panel that had been sitting on the floor, snaking away from the machine. “This knob here controls rotation,” he said, showing her the black panel. “And this one controls the vibration. For your first time, I’m going to work the controls. But later, I’ll hand the reigns over to you, and you’ll be able to experiment and see what you like.” He held his fingers to the knobs. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just try it, Ella. It’s not going to hurt you.”

Ella nodded. “Okay.”

Mr. Lamont turned on the machine, and a loud noise started up. Ella wasn’t expecting the noise. Then again, she wasn’t expecting the incredible vibrations spreading inside her pussy, either. The machine hummed between her legs, coursing delicious prickles of pleasure up her spine and down her legs. Ella gasped.

Mr. Lamont gave her a minute to get used to the new sensations. Then he held up the panel again, his finger on the other knob. “I’m going to start the rotation now,” he warned her. “I’ll start it out slow, and work my way up.”

Ella felt the dildo begin to make tiny little circles inside her. Her eyes went wide. It tickled and pulled, grazing and teasing her insides in the most fascinating way. Ella closed her eyes and leaned forward.

Immediately, she jacked her head up and cried out. When she had leaned forward, the machine had touched her in a new, unfamiliar way—a way that felt amazing.

Ella leaned forward again, testing the strange sensation.

Then she leaned forward again. And again.

Ella began to rock her hips and sway on top of the astounding machine that had managed to seduce her in no time at all with its magic. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as she moved her hips in a slow, languid circle that quickly built up speed.

“Stop!” She yelled. “Stop!”

Mr. Lamont immediately turned off the machine. “What?” He said, alarmed. “What happened?”

“It was…I was about….”

“Yes?”

“I was going to come,” Ella said, her whole body blushing.

Mr. Lamont cocked his brow. “That was the point, Ella.”

“I know, but….” She bit her lip and looked away.

“I understand.” Mr. Lamont’s voice was soft. “Many women are embarrassed to come while a strange man watches them from afar. Not everyone is a born exhibitionist. But you can be trained, Ella. It’s another thing I’m here to teach you.”

Ella’s face filled with fear. “Please, Sir, I…I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, and you will. Let me show you.” And he turned on the machine again.

For an instant, Ella thought of jumping off the machine, and dealing with whatever consequences might come. But that thought soon fled as the heavenly vibrations taking over her body trapped her in place once more. The dildo rotated, jolting her with a steady rhythm of pure bliss, and this time, Ella did cry out.

“That’s it, Ella,” Mr. Lamont encouraged her. “Feel it. Let it take you. Ride it out.”

“Oh, God!”

Mr. Lamont’s voice was low and direct. “Come for me now.”

The short order set her off, and Ella’s pleasure exploded. Atop the machine, she shuddered and yelled. The Sybian kept up its ministrations as Ella came, joining in the magnificent performance between woman and machine. She had never felt anything like it.

She swayed on the Sybian like a snake dancer, undulating her body as tiny aftershocks wracked her body. When she was done, she sat very still, breathing hard. Her clit throbbed; she felt very sensitive.

“You did beautifully, Ella.” Mr. Lamont said, turning off the machine. “I’ll give you a short break.”

Ella heaved for breath, looking startled. “A short break?”

Mr. Lamont smiled. “Oh, we are far from done. But just close your eyes and rest now.”

Ella did close her eyes, too weak to protest. She was still trying to process what had just happened. She was used to needing time, and a lot of foreplay, to reach an orgasm.

All the orgasms she had ever felt in her relatively young life had been nothing compared to what she had just felt with the Sybian. Mr. Lamont had made her come in under three minutes.

No, not Mr. Lamont, she thought. The machine. The Sybian. Mr. Lamont hadn’t even touched her.

Dear God, what would happen if he did touch her while she was riding this thing?

She opened her eyes when she heard him go to the large wardrobe and open it, and looked up to see what he was holding in his hands.

“They’re nipple clamps,” he told her before she could even ask. “I can tell by your face you’ve never seen them before. It’s going to be fun being your trainer, Ella.”

“Are they going to hurt?” Her voice was ragged and low. Perhaps it was her weak state, or perhaps it was the surreal effect of the situation, but Ella wasn’t fearful of the idea of pain. In fact, she was curious.

“Yes,” Mr. Lamont said. “They will hurt some. But how much they hurt is up to you right now. They’re adjustable. I’m going to let you decide how tight I make them, and then give you reign over the Sybian. You’ll have complete control. Sounds good?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mr. Lamont smiled at her ready answer. Then his focus shifted to her breasts, and his expression changed. With one hand, he picked up the end of the nipple clamps. With his other large hand, he carefully plucked up her left nipple.

Ella gasped. She looked down to see what he was doing, and watch every little movement of his blunt fingers. Mr. Lamont pinched her nipple a few times, getting it nice and hard. Then he pulled at it, distending it outward. Ella moaned, and momentarily closed her eyes; but she opened them quickly to watch Mr. Lamont fit the nipple clamp.

It pinched some, but not too much. The weight of it felt more odd than the clamp itself.

Once the first nipple was clamped, Mr. Lamont went through the same process with the second. When Ella’s nipples were both clamped, he stepped back to admire the view. The thin silver chain dangling between the clamps hung between her breasts like a piece of fine jewelry.

“How’s that? Too tight?”

“No, Sir. It’s fine.”

“Too loose?” He looked at her shrewdly.

“It’s fine.”

“I think we can make them tighter.”

Reaching over, he turned the tiny screw inside one of the clamps, tightening it up considerably. Ella made a sound like a moue.

“That’s much better. Let’s do the other.”

When he stepped back again, both clamps felt twice as tight as they did before, and Ella’s nipples were noticeably stiffer.

“Now I’ll give you the controls over the Sybian,” he said, handing her the small black box. “Remember, this one is for rotation. This one is for vibration.” He stepped away from her. “Have fun.”

For a moment, Ella just stared at the box. Then, she slowly turned up the vibration, just to see what would happen. She felt the Sybian begin to hum and shake beneath her once more. The dildo, still lodged up her cunt, vibrated with life.

Ella adjusted the rotation setting, and felt the dildo begin to gyrate inside her pussy, still sensitive and engorged from her recent orgasm. She groaned and leaned forward on her free hand, trying to adjust to the invasive, but not unpleasant, sensations. She turned the rotation up further, making the dildo twist harder and faster inside her.

“That’s good, Ella. But remember, you’re in no hurry. Take your time.”

Ella didn’t answer. She was completely absorbed in what she was doing—and what she was feeling. Her passion rose rapidly with each tight circle of the dildo, and she began to bob up and down on the machine, slapping her thighs against the smooth surface with each jerk of her body.

A painful jolt from her nipple refocused her attention, and Ella looked down. Mr. Lamont had grabbed the clamp, and was now tightening it even further, bit by delicious bit. Sweet agony shot through her nipple, down her spine, and straight to her clit.

As Mr. Lamont tightened up the other clamp, watching the way Ella bobbed and shook and swayed in complete abandon, he encouraged her further.

“Tell me what you’re feeling right now, Ella. Do you like it?”

“Yes, Sir. Oh God, I like it….”

“What do you like?”

“The clamps, the machine…the way it feels….” She couldn’t continue, as all words escaped her. She bounded on the machine, making it go faster and faster; and as she did, Mr. Lamont grabbed the chain between her nipples and pulled on the clamps.

Ella screamed this time as she came. If she thought her last orgasm was powerful, it was nothing compared to this one; white light exploded inside her head. She curled into the machine and continued to cry out with each jolting shock of pleasure.

As she calmed down, Mr. Lamont was already removing the nipple clamps. Ella turned off the machine as soon as she could get her hands to move, bending herself forward and back. She felt like she had no bones left in her body. She felt flushed, limp, thirsty…and wonderful.

“Would you like some water?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” Ella smiled languidly, watching Mr. Lamont disappear behind a door around the wardrobe to get her a glass of water.

She had nothing but good feelings for her trainer now. Mr. Lamont could do whatever he wanted with her, as long as he let her ride his glorious machine.

He returned with the water, and Ella gulped it down, breathing hard as she handed him back the empty glass. He put it absently on the bedside table.

When he turned back to her, Ella saw his expression had changed. His brows were furrowed, and his smile was voracious.

“We’re going to try something different now,” he said. “I’m going to control the Sybian again. You are going to try hard not to come. Understand?”

“I shouldn’t come?” Ella asked, alarmed. “How do I do that?”

“Fight it. Relax your body, think of something else, do whatever you need to do, but don’t come, not for as long as you can. Think of this as a test, Ella.”

“But I’ll fail. Eventually, I’ll come.” It scared her a little to admit it, how much her outlook on things had changed, and just since getting on the Sybian.

“I know,” Mr. Lamont said. “But this is where you start to train your brain to control your own responses. When you came before, your body was going through its natural processes and reactions. Now you’ll start to learn how to recognize those reactions, control them, and get your body to react the way you want it to. You’ll get better at it as time goes on, but for now, I want you to just try it, and get an idea what I’m talking about.”

Ella nodded. “Okay.”

She saw his fingers move against the control box ever so slightly, and underneath her sweaty, tingling body, Ella felt the machine spring back to life. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip.

But as Mr. Lamont stared at her with half-hooded eyes, watching with great interest as she fought the thrilling ecstasy resonating throughout her body, Ella’s mettle rose, and her tenacity returned. She braced herself against the machine, preparing herself for battle.

She would not come. Not until she could do it on her own terms. Not until she saw that smug look disappear from Mr. Lamont’s face.

Ella kept her body very still, and strained to put as much of her weight as she could on her hands. The Sybian quivered and twirled beneath her, and Ella fought to ignore it. She stared hard at Mr. Lamont.

Their eyes met. His expression helped anchor her and hone her in while the machine wreaked havoc with her senses.

When she caught him turning up the machine, she closed her eyes and bit her lip, but then held his gaze once more, letting him know with her steady glare that she would not be giving up anytime soon.

Ella’s breathing came hard and fast as Mr. Lamont continued to turn up the machine. Ella held her body rigid, careful not to move the slightest bit. She feared if she did, she would succumb to her growing need to rock against the diabolical dildo tormenting her needy clit.

The minutes ticked by. Sweat poured from Ella’s face and dripped down her sides. Her breathing came in tight, high-pitched wheezes. The noise of the Sybian was vibrant inside the open room. Mr. Lamont stared at her with growing enthrallment.

Ella held on.

He held up the control box to her eyes, making sure she was looking at what he was about to do. As she watched in dread, Mr. Lamont turned the vibration knob up all the way, giving her a lecherous grin. Beneath her, the Sybian began to dance.

“No….” A loud plea escaped her lips. Ella fought hard against the rising onslaught, closing her eyes and focusing all her energy on fighting the pleasure, the urgency, the need to come.

And for a while, she succeeded. Mr. Lamont’s expression went from intrigue to fascination as Ella’s body shook and rattled over the machine, looking seized. But the harder she fought, the greater her need grew. She knew eventually, the dam would burst, and the rush building inside her would be unleashed. It was only a matter of time.

It was about to happen. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

But she would still do it her way.

“I’m going to come,” she said, leaning forward.

“Hold on.”

“No.”

“I said hold on, Ella.”

“No! I want to come.” She met her trainer’s look, and their eyes did a battle of wills. Mr. Lamont was staring at her in astonishment—but also, Ella thought, with new respect.

It was the respect she saw there that finally released the gates. Smiling broadly, she came with a roar, leaning all the way over the machine. Her orgasm was so intense, it felt like tiny synapses in her brain were exploding. As her cry carried on, a look of anguish mixed with bliss covered her delicate features, and she arched her body in a perfect bow. Then she slumped against the machine.

Mr. Lamont quickly turned off the Sybian and rushed forward to help her down. Ella leaned on him as he led her to the soft bed.

“I think we’re done here for today,” Mr. Lamont said, looking down at her quivering, sweat-soaked, and lanky body. “When you’re ready, I’ll take you back to your room.”

“Thank you Sir. Did I pass the test?”

“Oh, yes, Ella. You passed.”

Mr. Lamont stood in front of Mr. Bentmoore’s desk, his arms crossed, his eyes looking somewhere in the distance. “She has no idea what she is, or what she’s capable of. She’s either ignorant, or oblivious.”

“I think it’s a bit of both,” Mr. Bentmoore replied from his seat, looking up at the tall thin man. “The basic knowledge will be easy to teach her—she’s a smart woman. But how she reacts to it all will be hard to predict.”

Mr. Lamont frowned. “Her control is amazing,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like it. In time, she will find it an incredible asset. But for now, I think she will try to turn it against us.”

“Then we will have to break her of it.”

“It will take time, and a lot of work.” Mr. Lamont’s grin was wide and fiendish.

“I’m sure you and the others are up to the task. It is, after all, why she is here.” Mr. Bentmoore gave Mr. Lamont a pointed stare. “Tomorrow morning, start on the toys. Floggers, paddles, belt…you know the drill. But no whips, not yet. She’s too new. We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”

Mr. Lamont’s smile returned. “It will be my pleasure, Sir.”