Training Tammy

Blase

Sub Whisperer
Joined
Jun 7, 2006
Posts
3,262
OOC: Closed for myself and heartofcourage

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"So it's sort of ironic that today the so-called 'BDSM' scene - where the letters are usually said to stand for Bondage, Dominance or Discipline, Sadism and Masochism - takes part of that name from De Sade," Roger stated as he looked around the classroom. "The things that happened to Justine were the result of force or coercion: plenty of plenty of people in that subculture say that they do not recognize themselves in De Sade's writings; that what they do is done strictly with the consent of all parties involved, with safewords in place and limits usually agreed upon or at least discussed in advance. Some of them really bristle at being called sadists."

His students, for the most part, were paying close attention as he spoke. Sexuality in Western Lit was an elective, after all: no one was forced to take it whether they liked it or not just because they had to in order to graduate. And Roger was a popular teacher, known both for his ability to make his subject matter interesting and for a kindly manner that tended to make people feel comfortable with him despite the fact that, with his broad chest and red hair, he looked like somebody's idea of a Viking warrior, needing only a double-bitted axe and a horned helmet to complete the picture, however historically inaccurate it might be.

He took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and realized there was no more time for tangents, or anything else. Class was at an end for that day.

"Okay, everybody, that's it!" he announced. "Make sure you read tonight's assignment, if you haven't already! Tomorrow we'll be talking about Anaïs Nin."

As the class gathered their materials and began to leave, Roger walked back to his desk to do the same.
 
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Like many of the other students in Sex in Western Lit, Tammy sat in raped attention as their professor explained things that would have had any other teacher at their small university running for cover. It was one of the reasons that he was so well respected, not just by the students, but by the other professors as well.

Tammy had grown up in a strictly religious household, a bit stunted in social activities by the time that she’d gotten to college to study History. Her first boyfriend she had met during orientation and they had broken up a little over a week ago. It seemed that after he’d taken her virginity, he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

She didn’t really think that she was that bad to look at either. Sure, she wasn’t as pretty as some of the other girls, but she could hold her own against them. Her hair was long and glossy, the silk color of a raven’s wings. Her eyes were a deep emerald green, wide and a little bit owlish in her delicate heart shaped face. She wasn’t tall by any means, but she did have sleek curves that were flattered by her modest clothing.

Sitting at her desk in her pretty red sundress, she listened to Roger talk. He was one of the mort liberal professors, kind to a fault and insistent that his students call him by his first name. God, the man was handsome too. Sometimes her mind would wander away from his words, focusing more on his physical appearance than on the intellectual…

She was jarred from her thoughts as he dismissed the class, telling them that tomorrow’s topic would be the works of Anais Nin. As her classmates gathered their things and left the room, Tammy stayed behind, taking her time. She was going to talk to Roger today. It was going to be more than a passing hello or a blush as he handed back her assignments.

Placing her backpack over one shoulder, she stepped up towards him, clearing her throat as he gathered his things. “I…um…I really enjoyed your talk today.”
 
Roger turned around and saw Tammy. Cute and smart but normally quiet, Roger hadn't learned much more about her than the obvious "girl next door" exterior.

"Thank you, Tammy," he answered her. "A lot of people today take issue with things that De Sade seemed to advocate, but he does at least give us a starting point to talk about certain ideas, and certain taboos."
 
“With all the weird things in this world, it seems strange that people would care what other people wanted to do with their personal lives.” Tammy blurted out, turning crimson as Roger looked at her with her statement.

Tammy felt like a deer in the headlights every time he looked at her. Maybe it was the tiny little crush that she had or the secret dark thrill she got when she actually thought about what she was being taught. She had never been a person that was confident enough to talk about what she wanted or how she was going to get it, but standing there in front of Roger, she felt a strange little piece of strength fill her.

“So…Roger…if I wanted to read more about De Sade…is there something you could suggest?”
 
"Well, there's a plenty of commentary out there on both de Sade and his works," Roger replied. "Aside from that, you might want to read Juliette, his companion novel to Justine."

"Juliette is Justine's sister, but she and her life are mirror-images of Justine; where Justine endeavors to be virtuous and winds up suffering, Juliette embraces her id and thrives."

Roger paused for a moment, looking at Tammy more carefully than he had, up to that point. Like many girls just growing into womanhood, she projected a sexuality that was less unselfconscious than unconscious: she was still learning to be comfortable with herself and to completely own her sexuality, among other things; therefore she didn't fully realize the effect she had, especially on males.

Roger quickly shifted his gaze to the Tammy's eyes, rather than maintain a full-body view, because his position demanded professionalism, and the momentary image that had flashed into his mind was of the young girl in a very unprofessional context, receiving very unprofessional treatment.

"Of course," he went on, hoping that the pause hadn't made Tammy feel awkward, "de Sade doesn't use Freudian terms like id, but the essence of what he's arguing in his novels is that to deny our desires is to deny our nature. Which sounds fine, in theory, but it's easy to say that when you occupy a privileged position in society. Actually, it's not always easy even then: de Sade got into a lot of trouble in his lifetime both for things he wrote and some of the things he did, or at least was accused of doing."
 
"He very well might be a celebrated hero today." She said with a shy grin as she pulled her backpack off her shoulder and unzipped it to pull out her notepad. "Julliette, you said?"

Tammy was an eager student, one with an appetite to learn and an eager desire to please her professors. Straight As since high school, she'd never really taken time to indulge in the college life and explore life outside the library.

"Do you think that's something I could find at the library? I'd be interested in picking up a copy and giving it a read." She said absently as she finished writing and started to place her notebook back into her bag.
 
Roger started to answer, then paused for a moment before speaking. "Actually, you could borrow my copy if you can get it back to me by the end of next week. I have it in my office, but I don't really need it at the moment, since we just finished up with de Sade."

"I was headed there now. Do you have a few minutes?"
 
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The offer was unexpected, but Tammy smiled and eagerly nodded. "I don't have any other classes today. I could definitely go with you."

"I think that I could have it read by the weekend. It's not like I have anything else going on in my life." She commented, laughing at her own lack of a social life as she shouldered her back and waiting for Roger to lead the way to his office.
 
A few minutes later...

"Here it is," Roger said, picking up the book and offering it to Tammy. "I'm afraid the illustrations are pretty explicit - there's a healthy dose of erotic artwork to go with the erotic literature."

As he passed her the book he remembered the scenes shown by the engravings reproduced within: heavy on punishments and pain, light on clothing; none featuring fewer than four people, all either vigorously engaged in the activities depicted, or else restrained and part of the bacchanalia whether they wished to be or not. He almost reiterated his warning but decided he was being overcautious; the students who signed up for his course were pretty hard to phase.

"I think you'll find it interesting," he told the girl. "Understand, there are things in there that are definitely illegal, then or now. I think we can agree that torture and murder shouldn't be condoned. Again, that's why some people in the modern-day BDSM scene - which is a lot more recent in origin than Justine or Juliette - can't stand to be identified with de Sade or his philosophy."

"But if you leave those parts aside, he does have some interesting things to say about the sheer freedom and pleasure of disregarding society's taboos; just doing what you feel without worrying about whether or not other people have told you it's forbidden."
 
Tammy had a little bit of a grin on her face as she took the book that was offered. She would never have imagined that Roger would be so apologetic over a little book. He always seemed so calm and sure of himself in the classroom. Perhaps this was out of his element.

She would never have imagined that she had the courage to ask him for more to read on the topic. The fact of the matter was...she was actually really interested in the things that they had been discussing. It was taboo and incredibly thrilling.

"Surely things like this can't still happen today." She blurted out, blushing as she opened the front cover of the book and took a look at things. "I mean, this was a long time ago."
 
Roger smiled slightly. "Well, the book is fiction, so it's debatable how many of those things happened even back then - although at least some of them surely did."

"As for things 'like that' happening today, I'm sure you've heard of BDSM? Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism? It was rather a popular subject, not too long ago: Something about housewives coming to see their worlds in shades of Grey, as I recall."

He took the book back and opened it, flipping through a few pages at random. "I have a hard time imagining anyone consenting to this, safeword or not," he commented, pointing to an engraving of an action that the subject clearly would not recover from. "But then," he continued, "there are things like this." He indicated a print featuring a woman who stood bound, her arms stretched uncomfortably above her head while her legs were fastened to a heavy wooden block. She was being attended to by two men and a woman; their ministrations apparently intended to allow her little respite between pleasure and pain. "There's a lot in there that many people would be uncomfortable with, to say the least, but none of it couldn't be done safely, with care and trusted partners."

Roger returned the book to Tammy. "But de Sade isn't a modern figure. You can't really understand him by referring to a cultural milieu that didn't exist in his time - and one that repudiates a lot that he celebrated in his works."
 
"I was never a Shades of Grey fan. I seemed so juvenile." Tammy said with a scoff and a blush to her cheeks as Roger took the book to show her a few illustrations.

She looked at the photo of the woman, a strange wave of want and a desire pulling at her belly. She had never really been one to think of her sexuality like what that woman was experiencing, but she had to admit that it certainly looked a little appealing. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she licked her lips, taking the book back as it was offered.

"You sound almost like you speak from experience." Tammy blurted out, turning an embarrassing shade of red as she looked at her professor with wide eyes. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
 
"Well, that is sort of personal," Roger chuckled good-naturedly, "but in a way, you could say that we all experience dominance and submission every day: Your boss at work tells you when to take your break; I ask the class to read through Chapter Five by tomorrow. Those are two examples of social agreements involving submission to authority figures."

"It might be over-simplifying a bit, but BDSM or D/s - Dominance and submission - could be considered just another such social agreement; only a private rather than a public one."

"That definition wasn't relevant today, talking about de Sade," Roger continued, "but we will be discussing it later in the semester in connection with some more contemporary works, since BDSM is actually a genre these days. If you break it down, though, there really isn't much that's required in D/s: Essentially one person gives instructions while another obeys them, with a safeword serving as a protective mechanism. So, for example, if I were to tell you that I was going to give you a series of instructions and you agreed to either follow them or say the word 'pistachio' if you became uncomfortable, that's all we'd need to create a D/s situation between us."
 
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"Really?" Tammy asked, looking at Roger with a little bit of surprise in her eyes. "That's all it takes to be in a relationship? I would never have guessed that it would be so easy."

She stared at Roger for a moment longer, blushing slightly as she looked down at the book cradled in her arms. She let out a breath and thought about everything that she had learned so far in his class. For a sheltered girl, it was all so exciting and a little titillating, but to know that it could be that easy...well, that was a whole different matter.

"So...say someone was wanting to maybe give this a try. How would they go about finding someone to do it with them?" She asked, trying to sound confident a little sly.
 
"Well, first of all, that's not all it takes to be in a relationship," Roger replied, addressing Tammy's first question. "That'd be like saying that a single date constituted a relationship: Obviously it doesn't."

"But say I moved this chair in between us and told you to remain standing where you are but to place your hands on the back of the chair - Your other choice would be to say 'Pistachio'. What would you do?"

As he spoke, Roger picked up the wooden chair that students normally sat in when they were in his office. He placed it between himself and Tammy so that its seat faced her - had she wished to sit, she would have had to turn her back to him. In order to do as he bid, however, she would need to remain facing him, but lean well forward because he'd placed the chair perhaps three feet from her; out of reach unless she bent at the waist.

Roger knew that he was taking a chance: Everyone in academia knew horror stories about careers being ended because a student had seemed so mature, or so sincere, or just so attractive that someone couldn't resist breaking the rules.

But the thing was that Tammy had been right: He had spoken from experience. The erotic tension between a submissive and a Dominant was something he craved, and Tammy's combination of hesitancy and eagerness had him caught: He was already imagining her lilting voice gone soft and husky; the whisper of a falling dress; the contrast of dark, dark hair against pale, bare shoulders.

So far, though, they were still at the point where everything could be brushed off as mistake or humor. He or Tammy could still laugh and feign ignorance or claim an innocent mistake. But if Tammy called his bluff, that wouldn't be true for much longer.
 
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Tammy's breath caught in her throat as she watched Roger pull a chair into the middle of the room, giving her a choice that made her head spin. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she warred with herself on what to do exactly. It was an innocent demonstration, she told herself. He didn't really mean to take her on in any way. It was something they could laugh about later on, but something deep inside of her really wanted to take that step.

Brushing her hair back out of her face, she did as he had suggested. Her hands shook a little as she placed the book on the seat of the chair and then her fingers moved to curl around the back. She had bent at the waist, looking up at him with her wide green eyes as if to ask what was next.

"Like this?" She asked him, her voice a shaking squeak.
 
Roger reached down to pick the book up once again, then stepped back, forcing Tammy to look up if she wanted to see his face, but not to the extent that the angle would be painful to her.

Almost as though he were still lecturing in class, he said, "Good! This actually makes a great example."

He paused for just a moment to catch and hold Tammy's gaze, then continued, "Give me an honest answer: Are you completely comfortable, right at this moment?"

He looked at the girl as she stood bent forward with her chin tilted up; her arms open as far as they could be while she gripped the chair; and let himself notice the way the front of her dress was dipping downward, allowing more than an incidental peek at creamy skin and a lacey bra.
 
"Comfortable?" She asked him, her chin tilting to look at Roger more directly as she considered his question. "Physically, yes. Mentally, I'm not so sure."

She didn't want him to think that she was freaked out by the whole thing though. How did she communicate to him the want, the desire, the doubt, the reservation...all without being a complete weirdo about it. She thought about her words carefully for a long moment, before her eyes found his once more and she forced herself to speak.

"All of...this...your entire class...well, I took it because it made me uncomfortable. I like the idea of learning new things. Of broadening my horizons. This...well, it makes me uncomfortable, but in a good way...if that makes any sense at all." She said in a soft, measured tone.
 
Roger found himself pleasantly surprised by Tammy's courage and her level of self-awareness.

"Some would say that that tension is the main point, or one of them, in D/s," he answered her. "Finding that point where you're not entirely comfortable, but you don't want to stop..."

He opened the book and held it up so that she could see. "I'm going to show you one picture at a time. I want you to look at them and put yourself in the place of the main subject in each illustration. If you don't like the way a picture feels, say 'No, thank you,' but if you like the way a scene feels when you imagine yourself in it, say 'Yes, please'".

He began by letting her see an engraving of a man stretched painfully on a giant wheel: His face was drawn in pain and large metal spikes loomed near his unprotected skin.
 
Tammy nodded her understanding. She was glad that he understood what she was saying even if she didn't. She got comfortable, turning her head to look at the book as he presented her with the first image. She frowned slightly and shook her head.

"No thank you." She said softly.
 
Roger nodded, pleased that Tammy was prepared to think critically despite her curiosity about D/s in general and, as he'd guessed, submission in particular.

The next illustration was gentler. The primary subject was a woman who was neither bound nor in any apparent pain. She was, however, being undressed with enthusiasm by the other figures in the picture.
 
Tammy studied the next picture, the grip on the back of the chair becoming a little tighter. She wasn't really sure how she felt about it exactly. The thought was erotic, but other people? She nibbled her lower lip, a habit she'd had since she was a young girl before she decided just how she wanted to answer.

"Yes, please." She said softly, her green eyes flicking towards Roger to gauge his reaction.
 
Roger caught Tammy's hesitation. "Remember that we're dealing with a book that portrays extremes," he reminded her. "That's why I asked you to focus on the primary character in each illustration and see how you felt about what was happening to him or her. It's more about the idea of what's happening than the idea of it happening in a group."

The next picture showed a progression from the last. The woman now stood naked and was being bound. In an interesting coincidence, she was bent forward in a position not too different from Tammy's.
 
Tammy sucked in a deep breath at the next picture, a tremor making her body shake softly. Again, she nibbled on her lower lip, squirming as she considered what was in front of her. It was just a game they were playing. Nothing would come of this, she thought to herself.

"Yes, please." She said softly again, licking her lips as they suddenly turned dry.
 
Another page turned and the woman's head was tilted up at just the angle that Tammy's was, but her mouth was open in a shout of shocked pleasure as she found herself abruptly penetrated from behind.
 
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