Mary shuffled her feet together, straightened her back and clasped her hands in front of her. She held her chin up but kept her eyes lowered. She had been told that proper posture was indicative of a healthy body and good deportment. However, it was also important for one in her position to remain demure, hence the lowered gaze. Such microscopic attention to detail was becoming the norm for her, but she wanted to impress Mr Sandow, so she made a real effort to memorise everything he told her, no matter how minute or trivial it might seem. His quest for an apprentice had gone on for weeks without the slightest hint of success. It had trailed off to the point where many had assumed that it had been abandoned altogether. However, Damien had carried on behind the scenes, picking out any fan who seemed to have the slightest spark of intelligence in their eyes; the attempt usually ending in bitter disappointment.
One night- in London, Ontario- Mary had been attending a WWE event at the JLC. It had recently been renamed, but it would forever be known by the locals as the more Canadian 'John Labatt Centre'. Damien made his way along the line for merchandise, scanning for a face that belied an IQ over 80. Mary, who was waiting with ever-decreasing patience for a 'Barratt Barrage' T-shirt, was just about to give up and order one on eBay when an oddly familiar voice exclaimed "Allow me to beg your indulgence for one moment…"
Mary turned around and found herself looking at a very smart double-breasted suit, shirt and silk tie done in a double-Windsor. She looked up, slowly, and found her gaze locked by the most perfect, deep brown Labrador eyes framed by luscious black lashes. She quite lost her breath for a moment when his deep voice and perfect diction cut through her reverie "My name is Damien Sandow, and I am the Intellectual Saviour of the Masses. I am in search of an apprentice, and challenge you to answer three questions to see if you are worthy of such a position." Mary swallowed, and nodded. Damien Drew himself up to his full height and asked "What is the cardinal point missing from this sequence? North, South, East, and…?"
"West." Mary said, smiling.
"Very good, well done." Said Damien, to a ripple of laughter from the crowd. Mary laughed too, relaxing a bit, now. "What is the name of this arena?" he said.
"The Budweiser Gardens" Mary said, to a handful of boos from the assembled fans. A couple of locals jeered and argued about the validity of the name. Damien raised an eyebrow at the commotion.
"SILENCE!" Damien's voice filled the hall and those who were closest were knocked back at the power of his voice. Everyone laughed and a cheer erupted from the crowd. Mary herself applauded, despite having to recover from bearing the full brunt of the exclamation; she enjoyed Damien's character thoroughly and his antics never failed to please. He turned and faced her. "It would appear that was a controversial answer, but it is nevertheless correct." Damien turned a warning gaze to the crowd, to an appreciative wave of laughter. "Now, for your third and final question. What philosophical assertion was famously uttered by René Descartes?" Damien stood back and awaited her answer with a smug grin.
Mary blinked and looked back up at him. She wasn't sure what to do at this point. She'd always thought the third question was supposed to be impossible to get, but she knew this one. She decided to see how clever Mr Sandow was on his feet and replied "I think, therefore I am."
Damien's smile tensed slightly and the assembled fans popped. Damien lifted a finger to call for silence and a hush settled. "In Latin, please."
The assembled crowd began to protest loudly calling Damien a cheat but Mary chewed back a smile and raised a hand herself. The crowd hushed again and she went up to Damien, looked him square in the eye and said, "Cogito. Ergo. Sum." Damien's face fell into disbelief and the fans went ballistic. Mary stepped back and allowed herself to smile broadly. She waited to see what Damien would do next. He quickly regained his composure.
"Well done. I am impressed. You have moved onto the next stage to be considered for the position of my apprentice. Come with me." Damien turned on his heel and began to walk away and Mary had to rush to keep up. She could not believe what had just happened. A wave of applause followed her as she half-cantered to keep up with Damien's long strides through the arena, him dismissing calls for photos and autographs with dismissive gestures and elegantly-phrased insults. Soon they made it to the cordon and Mary almost didn't make it through until Damien turned to the security personnel and told them wearily, "Oh, she's with me."
What followed was the most intense of intensive crash-courses in 'How To Be The Perfect Apprentice.' Turns out she had been the only one to advance to the next stage in the application process so by default she had been put straight into training. She had been instructed how to dress, how to carry herself, and how to speak. Not only had her vocabulary and diction been analysed and amended but her Canadian accent had been ripped apart and rebuilt to be more acceptable to Mr Sandow's (now the only acceptable form of address) ear. She now stood in Damien's personal study, feet together, head and shoulders back, dressed in a cashmere sweater with pearls and a dark tartan skirt. Demure without being matronly, she actually felt quite smart and proper and could feel she was holding herself up straighter when she walked and being more careful about how she spoke. She thought Damien- Mr Sandow, could run a finishing school. It would certainly be successful.
"Have you finished the reading list I gave you?" Damien interrogated his apprentice.
"All except 'Critique Of Pure Reason', Mr Sandow." replied Mary.
"Honestly I didn't think it would take you this long to get through a few books" he said, sounding exasperated.
"I wanted to make sure that I had full comprehension and at least fair retention, so I took notes as I was reading, Mr Sandow." Mary hoped this was a valid reason. Mr Sandow could swing in either direction with these things, she'd found.
Damien narrowed his eyes and seemed to consider the merit of her excuse. He turned and walked a couple of paces, then turned back to face her again. She looked back at him and tried to read his expression. His Labrador eyes were as beautiful as ever, but they were hard. His face had settled into a frown. It looked like her offered reasoning had been rejected, and she awaited the upcoming discipline. Previous failures to meet the required standard had resulted in extra duties, coursework, essay writing, and the like. She reckoned at this rate she would be retrieving his dry-cleaning for the rest of her natural life, and writing at least two essays a week.
"This simply will not do. I see that I will have to take stronger measures to ensure that you fulfil your potential." Damien unbuttoned his blazer, pulled it off and dropped it onto a chair. She began to feel apprehension grow into something akin to panic as he then unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, his eyes never leaving her face. "Turn around, place your hands on the desk and place your feet shoulder-width apart."
"I… I beg your pardon, Mr Sandow?" Mary was sure that she could not possibly have heard him correctly. There was no way he was asking her to do something so- well, kinky. He thinks we're playing out scenes from the 'Secretary' film she thought to herself. She wasn't about to allow herself to be used to indulge his fantasies. She prepared to defend her honour.
"I said turn around, put your hands on the desk and spread your feet apart. If I have to tell you again I will make you do it myself, and trust me, it will not be a pleasant experience." He did not raise his voice in the slightest but somehow that made the threat more sinister- and believable. She swallowed and reconsidered her position. Mr Sandow was a very handsome man. He was articulate and the fluid way he moved had begun to catch her eye. Maybe it would be fun to go along with this, just to see how far he would take it. She turned slowly, keeping her eyes locked on his as long as she could, then leaned forward over the mahogany desk and placed her hands palms-down in front of her. She then adjusted her feet so that they were shoulder-width apart, and as part of her posture training straightened her legs, arms and back. She held her head up and looked straight ahead.
She heard movement behind her and sensed Damien approach. Her senses began to heighten and tingle; her breath became shallow and quickened. She felt Damien's breath on her ear as he whispered to her "I am very disappointed in you. I set you a task and you have failed to meet it. Now you are going to be disciplined for that failure. Do you know what a safe word is?"
Mary nodded. She'd used a safe word before with previous boyfriends as a precaution when they'd played around with bondage in the bedroom. It was a way of letting the other person know that they needed a time out without having to rely on guessing whether "stop" really meant "stop". Damien continued "Good. Your safe word is 'mercy'. What is your safe word?"
"Mercy" said Mary.
"Excellent. Now, you are going to receive ten smacks to your behind for failing to meet my expectations of you. Do you understand?"
Mary's breath caught. "Yes, Mr Sandow."
"Good. Remain in this position. Failure to do so may result in further punishment." Damien moved around her so that he was facing her from her left side. She straightened herself, took a deep breath, and awaited the first blow. The first sensation she felt was surprisingly gentle, and it made her jump. Damien had placed his large hand on the back of her leg just at the join of her buttock and began rubbing it through the material of her skirt. He kneaded the muscle with his strong fingers, which made her bite her lip, and then moved his hand to repeat the treatment on the other side. Mary's body began to sway with the manipulation of his hands, and he barked a quick "Stand still!" She quickly readjusted her stance and tried to remain as rigid as possible as he lifted her skirt to expose a pair of white cotton panties beneath. He tucked the edge of her skirt into her waistband and began to caress and knead her legs and ass-cheeks again.
Mary was now awash with a million sensations- all of them good. Her head was thrown back and her mouth was agape in a silent moan of pleasure. Her back had become arched downward as she subconsciously pushed her hind end towards Damien and his skilful manipulations. She wanted him to touch her more, and in more intimate places, but she daren't say a word lest she displease him. She was enjoying what he was doing far too much and was not about to break the spell. Soon her wish was partly granted and Damien hooked his fingers in the leg-holes of her panties and pulled them up so that they now formed a quasi-thong between her buttocks. He pulled on the material and the tension caused a slight friction on her pussy which caused a moan to escape her lips.
"Be quiet, you wanton hussy!" Damien's voice was low and husky. He then moved himself sideways and she felt a sharp blow to her right butt-cheek.
"Ai!" she yelped and jumped at the sudden impact. It was quickly followed by another just slightly lower down, on the join between buttock and thigh. She yelped again and lifted her leg at the pain, but a firm hand pushed down on her back to pin her in place.
"Stay still or your punishment will be much worse!" Damien's voice was raised now, so she lowered her body and head onto the desk as a sign of acquiescence. He silently accepted the offering by rubbing her left buttock, then planted a firm slap on it. Mary managed not to jump quite so much this time, but she had to bite her teeth together quite hard to manage it. A fourth slap on the top of her left thigh made her groan in pain, but she still managed to keep mostly still. It appeared as if the improvement in behaviour had not gone unnoticed, as Damien now proceeded to reach around with his left hand, and with his long fingers pinched together her butt-cheeks near the tops of the thighs and moved them in a circle. This movement manipulated her pussy which was pushed against the desktop beneath, and she moaned in response to the sensation.
"You filthy little whore" muttered Damien, viciously. Keeping her cheeks pinched together with his left hand Damien gave them a sharp smack with his right, and the force of the blow, funnelled in this manner, went straight to her now tingling pussy.
"Oh my god!" she cried out as her head and shoulders snapped upwards from the blow. Her feet sprang apart and her body writhed. Damien grabbed her by the hair and pulled her ear towards his mouth.
"I told you to stay still. You have repeatedly disobeyed my instruction and ignored my warnings. Prepare to accept your full punishment." He dragged her bodily to the other side of the desk and then pulled her backwards so that she was now lying atop it on her back. Her head dangled off the side and she watched him upside-down as he reached for his belt-buckle. "Are you proficient in the art of Deep Throat?"
Mary shook her head and she swallowed in nervousness. She had a ridiculous gag reflex, she couldn't even hold something in her teeth without it triggering sometimes. She'd tried desensitising it by cleaning her tongue thoroughly when she brushed her teeth at night but it didn't seem to help much, and she'd actually managed to make herself retch once. Damien looked down at her. "Well we shall simply have to add it to the curriculum, won't we?" He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, which he then removed and discarded atop his blazer. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his swollen member. Damien placed a hand on Mary's forehead and the head of his rigid, thick cock to her lips. "Open your mouth. Relax your throat. Swallow if you need to, and breathe through your nose."
Mary took a deep breath and opened her lips. Damien pushed his throbbing manhood into her mouth and she closed her eyes and tried her hardest to relax. He started with slow, shallow movements so that her gag reflex was not triggered, and she felt her shoulders and arms, which had instinctively wrapped around his hips, relax. Soon he began to thrust a little more deeply and she accepted the foreign object in her mouth with increasing ease. The angle of her head gave him clear access to the back of her throat, so he gradually increased the depth of his penetration. Unfortunately the deeper thrusts cut off her airway completely, so it was necessary for him to pull out so she could gasp for air at regular intervals. She started to become light-headed from the lack of oxygen, but ironically it made her throat muscles more relaxed with meant that she could take more of him in. Eventually Damien pulled out and as she gasped for air he kneeled down, grabbed her by the hair, looked her dead in the eye and said "I'm not done with you yet."
He stood up, tucked himself back in, zipped his fly, and went to a filing cabinet. He pulled open the bottom drawer, and pulled out a large, chest-like box. He placed the box on a side-table near the desk where Mary still lay, trying to regain her senses, and opened it. He pulled out what looked like two sets of leather shackles, one larger than the other. He walked over to Mary and separated the smaller set, and began attaching one of the cuffs to her wrist. She looked up at him as he did so and took in the look of concentration on his face; how his brow furrowed over those gorgeous eyes. She remained still and compliant as he then attached the matching cuff to her other wrist, then the larger set to each of her ankles. "Stand up."
She lifted herself slowly from the desk. She noticed him hold out an arm, as if to catch her if she stumbled, and found herself smiling inwardly. Always the gentleman. "Walk around to the other side. Lie back down on your front as you did earlier." She did as she was told, slowly still and leaning on his proffered arm. When she was in place he said "Spread your feet as wide as you can." She did and she felt him fix her ankles to the legs of the desk with short lengths of rope he pulled out of the chest. He then moved to her arms and fixed her wrists to the legs on the other side of the desk. He moved back to the box and paused. He turned his head towards Mary. "What is your safe word?"
"Mercy, Mr Sandow."
"Good girl. Well done." He reached into the box and pulled out a large, flat, wooden object that almost looked like the end of an oar but thicker. It also had a number of large holes drilled through it, giving it the look of Swiss Cheese, or a child's toy. He walked up to Mary. "Do you know what this is?"
"A paddle, Mr Sandow?"
"That's right. This one is made of Oak, renowned for its strength and hardness." He rapped his knuckles on it and it made a sharp, hollow sound. "You see these holes in it? Do you know what they are for?" Mary shook her head. "They are to allow air to pass through, so that the wood can make firmer contact with its intended target." Mary shivered and looked up at Damien with pleading eyes, but he simply moved back to her hind end, and began to caress her backside with the wooden implement. She whimpered and squirmed at the touch and Damien warned her menacingly "Do not make me tell you again about keeping still!" Mary stopped her movements but she could not stop her whimpers. The threat coming from the cold, hard wood rubbing her skin was more than she thought she could bear and when she felt it lift from her she clenched her eyes shut and dreaded the coming blow.
She didn't have to wait long. Damien had barely lifted the paddle when he brought it straight back down with a slap that echoed around the room. Mary's eyes flew open and her mouth popped into an 'O' shape. She had just about drawn breath to cry out from the first strike when a second landed almost in the same place as its predecessor. Mary cried out at the onslaught and pulled against her restraints. A third eye-watering smack landed on the back of her left thigh followed quickly by a matching one on her right. She was almost in tears at this point and was just about to cry out 'mercy!' when she heard a dull thud on the floor, felt Damien step in behind her, pull her panties down and plough into her with his rigid cock.
The sudden change of sensation pushed her over the edge and she tumbled headlong into an almost otherworldly headspace. She felt her body go limp and felt a sense of complete bliss as Damien took her roughly from behind. It was as if every endorphin her brain possessed had been released at once and she was now floating somewhere in the stratosphere, looking down at the scene being played out in Mr Sandow's study. Damien's thrusts were coming hard and fast, and she could feel them both building towards their release.
"You're going to come on my command" said Damien gruffly, leaning down to put his mouth by her ear. He punctuated his speech with his thrusts. "I am going to make you come and you are going to thank me for it." Mary could only moan softly in reply, she was still floating somewhere about a mile above and didn't have the remote control for her higher functions. He straightened up, dug his fingers into the curve of her hips, and cut his thrusts short, sharp and quick. Mary was driven to the brink and wanted desperately to come but Damien was not yet ready and had not given the green light. She bit her lip, cried out and dug her fingers into the rope holding her arms in place until she could feel Damien's pace quickened to a near frenzy as he begin to reach his peak. "Christ, yes. Come for me, Mary. Come for me!" Mary screamed as she burst into a million pieces, soon followed by the final few deep thrusts and a throaty moan from Damien as he filled her with his release.
Mary sunk into the top of the desk as Damien fell to his elbows over her. He grabbed a handful of hair and whispered in her ear: "Oh my dear. You are going to make an excellent apprentice. I have so much more to teach you…"