Chapter 4: Training

Red-haired Mary woke me one day from a deep sleep where I had dreamed of Natha; all he did was hold my hand and smile at me, but the smile was with his whole face, eyes included. The dream wasn't much, but it was one of the best dreams I've ever had. I think.

Your escort is here to take you to Master Jon. He's your Martial Arts Instructor." I nodded my thanks and stood up. I didn't have anything I needed to do to get ready: we had no showers or possessions or even a tooth brush. It had been explained to me that the nanites took care of most of it, and only in special situations did we actually need to do anything like that.

It troubled me at first. Why did it feel like I was breaking habits to not do those things? If I was raised with the nanites, how did I even know what these activities and items were? The girls explained that it was because I've seen other people do them, or talk about them, before I was brought to the Enrichment Center. And then they would tell me how wonderful it was to be raised by Natha with all his blessings and everything he's done to take care of us. And after that, it was okay, because I knew Natha was taking care of me.

I followed my escort down the halls to a large room. The walls were all padded and so was the floor. The padding was stiff; it didn't feel like it would really do much if you fell. There was a man in the room. "Good day, Mary," he said. I matched him to Master Jon, Martial Arts and Combat Theory disciplines. He was bald, tall, and muscular, but not like a body builder, just toned. He looked efficient. That was the word for him. Efficient.

I gave a deep curtsy bowing my head for five seconds, and when I rose up he nodded to my escort who left the room. "I will be training you in the martial disciplines, personal defense, how to protect your Master, and the theories and tactics of personal combat. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

I bowed my head, "Yes Master, I believe I do."

"Good," he said, "we will begin with Systema, in six months we will switch to Ninjutsu. Interspersed will be lessons in tactics and theory." He started walking toward a doorway in another wall, "Come with me, you need to change."

I followed him through the doorway and found another room. On one wall hung equipment: swords, staffs, spears, boken, kettle bells, rope, and prop firearms. Across from that was a shower stall with three shower heads. Beside that was a shelving unit with folded clothes and what looked like a garbage chute underneath. "Pick up one of the training uniforms and put it on. Drop your smock into the chute; it will be cleaned and waiting for you when we're done."

I curtsied again and headed over to the shelving unit with the clothing on it. I pulled my smock off, feeling the cool air rush in around my naked body. It felt nice, the way the air crossed my ass and the breeze slid through between my legs. I felt my nipples harden a bit.

As I picked up a set of clothes, Master Jon said, "Wait, turn toward me."

"Yes, Master." I set the clothes down and turned toward him. I still felt a little embarrassed to be standing naked in front of someone I didn't know. He smiled and gave an approving nod, then gestured for me to continue dressing. I turned back and picked up the set of clothing again. I pulled the top on, a tight plain white wrap with straps, little more than a sports bra, but tight and supportive for my breasts. A black stripe was the only accent. The shorts were much the same way, tight, short, and small, little more than panties. I bent down to put them on, and I could feel Master Jon watching me. I arched my back as I bent down, trying to give him as good a view as possible. I stepped into the shorts and pulled them up slowly, while arching my back as much as I could. I felt my face flush a bit and my nipples harden; they could almost be seen through the thick material of the sports top.

Master Jon had an approving smile on his face as his eyes ran up and down my body. "Very nice. Now, come back to the practice floor." I followed him out and he stood me in the center of the room. "Today we'll be working on breathing, one of the most important concepts of Systema." He stood beside me and pressed one hand on my chest, pushing me back a bit, then moved his other hand into the small of my back, pressing it in, forcing my posture straight.

"First, though, we need to fix your standing posture." He used a knee and pressed my knees in, unlocking them. "Keep your legs relaxed, with your knees unlocked, and roll your hips up." He stepped behind me and ran his hands slowly down my side to my hips, where he grabbed them and gently twisted them up. I felt like I was sticking out my pelvis, and with my knees bent, it felt strange and almost comical. I must have looked silly. "Now you can feel that your spine is a bit straighter, more centered along your line of balance." He stepped back beside me as he spoke, sliding one hand to my ass and the other to my crotch, then slid them up, one along my spine, the other across my stomach and over my breasts.

"Now to breathe; in through the mouth, fill your stomach first, then the ribs, then the chest." As he spoke, he moved his hands over my body again, gently touching and caressing the points he was talking about. His warm hand felt incredibly nice as he touched me.

He put his hand back onto my stomach. "In," he said, and I started to breathe in, trying to breathe in the sections he told me. As my stomach filled, he slid his hands up to my ribs, holding me under the breasts. Then he moved to my chest, cupping a breast as he slid his hand past. The warm caress was nice enough that I almost exhaled out of joy. "Good," he said. "Now, exhale in reverse. Chest," and he pressed his hand in gently as I exhaled, "ribs," and he slid his hand down, still pressing in, "and stomach."

I felt good, a little light headed. I wasn't sure if it's because that was the deepest breath I'd ever taken or because a Master was paying so much close attention to me.

Master Jon took a couple steps back and said, "Good, now do it again." And I did, with him watching. For the next two hours we did nothing but breathe. Master Jon joined me in the drill after about thirty minutes. So for an hour and a half I stood breathing in time to my Master's breathing. It was exhilarating, just breathing with a man who deserved my respect. Not just because he was one of my Masters, but because he was obviously a skilled and well-disciplined Master of the Martial Arts. I respected him greatly because of his obvious devotion and skill.

After the two hours of just breathing we started jogging, never changing my rate of breathing. Every four laps of the room I was to add one step to each breath. Where we started with short, normal length breaths and two steps per breath, we were soon running and I was trying very hard to stretch out my breathing so that I could fit nine steps in each breath. As I moved faster, I wanted to breathe more, not less. Master Jon was taking very long deep breaths, and I tried to do the same, but at twelve steps I failed.

My legs and lungs burning with the effort, I lost pace and started gasping in air. At which point Master Jon laid me on the floor, lifted my knees up, and placed my arms over my head. He explained that this position would help my lungs expand and open up more space in my abdomen for better breathing. He set one hand on my chest and the other on my stomach and used them to help my body get into the rhythm of proper breathing.

We spent the rest of the time doing similar exercises; breathing while doing sit-ups, breathing while doing pushups, breathing while standing on my hands, back against a wall. All of the exercises were difficult and made different muscles burn with effort. And every time we switched to a different exercise, I felt as if I had to relearn to breathe. Even stretching, breathing in and stretching as far as possible, then breathing out and stretching further. Master Jon helped me stretch my legs and inner thighs by pressing into them and holding the joints straight, so as to reduce the stress on the cartilage but not the tendons. He would press on my back when I was stretching down, and hold my ankles when I stretched into an arc. Every time I felt his warm hands touching my skin, I knew I could do better with him helping.

After we were done exercising we headed to the back room to shower. Even with the nanites I had worked up a heavy sweat, almost as much as Master Jon. We both undressed in the back room and dropped our clothes into the chute. Master Jon was very fit, every inch of his skin was etched with well-defined muscles. I wanted to reach out and touch every curve, trace every line. He looked at me while I was staring at him. "It's impolite to stare," he said, and stepped up into the shower stall, where he turned on the water.

Caught in my embarrassment, I curtsied deeply and kept my head bowed. "I'm sorry, Master; I was admiring you so much I that momentarily forgot my etiquette," I pleaded.

He laughed. "It's okay, I'll take it as a compliment. Now, get in here and clean up. I don't want Mistress Velma to be mad at me for making you late to her class."

I stepped into the shower; the water was hot and relaxing. "Here," he said as he stepped up behind me. "After a workout, you need to work out any kinks you may have gained in your muscles." He put his hands on my shoulders and started to massage me. I relaxed and melted into his hands. After a few minutes, he moved down to my back, working each muscle he could. One hand slipped around to my chest to support me as he pressed into my back. Then, it slipped over and cupped one breast at a time as he worked around my shoulder blades. He used his large, warm hands to work the hot water into all the sore muscles of my body. I just stood there as he continued down, working my gluteus muscles and my thighs with one hand, while the other held firmly onto my pelvis and crotch, rubbing gently.

I felt a familiar heat rising up in me, and I was about to turn around and offer myself to him when he stopped. "You should be clean enough. Dry off and your escort will take you to Mistress Velma."

"Yes, Master." I said. I was confused about the sudden change. Had I done something? Did he not want me? Why did he rub me down like that if he didn't want me? Maybe I was just not skilled enough for him?

I dried off and dressed in the clean simple white dress that was now on the shelf. Maybe Master Velma could tell me. She is my Physical Skills Master, she would likely know. If I get the chance, I'll ask her.

The escort led me out of the training room, his uniform crisp and his manor stiff. I glanced back and saw Master Jon sitting in the floor of the training room, eyes closed, meditating.

I looked back to my escort. His brown hair was buzzed short above his ears. The skin of his face was hard and his mouth was set in a grim line. His green eyes looked straight forward, crinkled at the corners like he was concentrating on something. They did not stray down to me at all.

"Have you met Master Velma?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual but respectful. His eyes shifted for a second, and there was a momentary look of confusion as he went through what I said. He shook his head and went back to staring down the hallway.

I tried a different tactic, "I'm Mary," I said, making a quick curtsy while we walked.

"Of course you are." He said, not changing pace, but said nothing more.

"So, what's your name?" I asked, keeping slightly behind him, to the side, and having my head down, to remain respectful of his position and guidance.

"I am PFC Walker," he said, but otherwise kept quiet.

After a few moments of silence we reached a door. Walker knocked then stepped to the side. The door slid open a moment later to reveal a woman, tall, curvy, and beautiful, standing on the other side. She stood with a hip cocked to the side, her head tilted the other way, with a hand on the door frame. Her fiery red hair hung over one shoulder, accenting the shape of her breasts underneath the green silk gown she wore. Her skin was that of rich, creamed coffee, her lips full, coloured a deep red, and her eyes, a silvery blue that seemed to fade to white when she blinked. There was a smile on her face that was both welcoming and amused.

She rolled her head around the door frame and said to Walker, "You're dismissed, Private." Her voice was sultry, dripping over my ears like hot honey, silky and sweet. It was deeper than I expected.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Walker bowed quickly, turned on his heel, and walked back down the hallway. His movements seemed even stiffer than before.

"And you," she said, shifting those blindingly beautiful eyes to me, "should come in."

I stuttered, "Y-yes-s, Ma-a'am," and hastily curtsied as deeply as I could. I felt my knees becoming soft, making it hard to move, and a familiar heat started to rise in my abdomen. When I looked up she was already retreating into the room, each step making her ass swing seductively back and forth under her dress. Trying not to stare, I hurried into the room after her, hearing the door slide shut behind me.

The room was reasonably large and comfortably arranged. A large bed, with dark grey sheets that shimmered in the light, stood against the back wall. Along the wall to the right were a couch, a love seat, and an armchair. A couple tables stood nearby, toward the middle of the room. The opposite wall had a massage table and a stand of oils and lotions next to a large basin bath tub. The floor was a rich, deep carpet of pale green, and the walls had intricate tapestries hung upon them, which gave the room a feeling of warmth that would otherwise not have been there. The tapestries themselves were intricately stitched depictions of people, and animals, and animal people in various sexual situations. One that caught my eye used a multitude of different blues to depict an elephant-headed man using his trunk, mouth, hands, feet, and penis to pleasure seven women all at the same time. It was impressive how the artist had managed to fit all eight people on the work without overlapping to the point of hiding detail. It

was done in a two dimensional style like a cross between ancient Indian and Egyptian.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" the rich sultry voice of Master Velma said into my ear.

Startled, I turned to her, bowed my head and apologized, "Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry I was staring."

"It's all right," she said, stepping up to me and raising my head with her index finger on my chin. My heart raced at her touch, and I think I started to flush.

"You are a cute one." She spoke quietly, as you do when inspecting a doll or piece of clothing you want but don't need. She turned her hand, sliding the backs of her fingers up my cheek and turned my head back toward the tapestries. "This is my favorite," she said, motioning toward one that was reds, black, and greys. It showed a single man and woman, wrapped together in a deep embrace of lovemaking. "The way the artist stitched his arms around her, the way she seems to melt into him," she sighed deeply and spoke almost wistfully, "it looks to me like they really do love each other, and it's not just the passion of a moment." I looked at it closely, but all I saw was a simple, but elegantly depicted act of passion, nothing deeper.

"Anyway," she continued; her voice firmer than a moment ago, "today all we'll be working on is breathing and relaxation."

"Master?" I said, forming it into a question, my voice sounding weak and shy even to my ears.

She looked a little surprised that I had spoken. "Yes?" she asked, turning from the tapestries and giving me her full attention.

"I just spent six hours with Master Jon doing breathing and relaxation exercises."

She nodded, "Presently it is not your place to question your Masters, remember that." She spoke sternly, but not harshly. "Jon teaches breathing in reference to martial skills, how to relax under stress. I'll be teaching you how to control your breathing and stress at a much more primal level." I nodded, not understanding what she was talking about.

"Now, remove your clothes and lie down on the massage table."

My heart started to beat faster. Master Velma exuded sexual desire and lust. I have no doubt that anyone who met her would want her in the most carnal ways possible. I did as she instructed. Removing my clothes, I stepped past her and lay face down on the massage table, my arms fitting on the arms of the table, my legs spread a bit on in the indentions specifically for legs. It was obvious that the table had been pre-adjusted for me; it fit too well. The air stirred a bit as a breeze slid across my back, causing goose bumps down my spine all the way to my cleft.

"Close your eyes and relax." Her voice again dripped honey into my ears. Her hands touched my back and my heart sped up under the warm pressure she put onto me. The hands slid up to my neck and I felt her gently brush my hair away, evoking a small shiver of joy as her fingers brushed my neck. I felt her place something against my neck. "This is a wireless uplink; I'm going to use this to monitor your heart rate and blood pressure. It will also send me information on tension, helping me to determine how relaxed you are. How does it feel knowing that your body is sending information directly to my head?"

Her voice sounded amused, like she was playing with me. "It feels good to know how close I am to you at the moment," I said, trying to slow my heart down.

She slid her hands down my back, gently kneading my muscles with practiced dexterity. "Breathe out slowly and concentrate on this muscle group. Visualize the muscles under my hands as nothing but knotted, twisted ropes." She started rolling her hands back and forth across a muscle cluster just under my shoulder blades. "Now, visualize that as I knead them, that my hands are untwisting them, unknotting them, just letting them rest still, completely relaxed." The motion of her hands and the cadence of her speech worked together with the visualization to help me relax my muscles. Soon my heart had slowed down to well below average, almost to a sleeping state.

"You're doing very well," she said, giving me a warm feeling of pride in my chest. Then I felt her slowly scratch a single fingernail down my spine. My heart started to race again at the intense sensation. Every muscle group started to tighten and spasm as her finger passed by.

"Concentrate and relax," her silken voice reassured me. I tried so hard to get my heart under control, but could not; my breathing continued out in ragged breaths.

Her finger lifted from my back, leaving a hot scar along my spine where her nail had passed. "Slow your breathing first." I started to work on stabilizing my breathing, counting time between when I would breathe in and out and being careful to breathe in the three stages Master Jon had shown me. Each breath let me feel the tension of my body against table. I could feel, when I breathed in, my chest crushing my breasts into the soft temperfoam of the table, followed by my ribs pressing against it, then my stomach pressing in harder, lifting my back slightly.

I could feel my muscles calm down and start to relax again, but then she gently started blowing on my back, cooling my skin, but it was twice as intense where she had scratched, and her cool breath traveled up my back, causing my muscles to start to spasm again. I continued to count my breaths, concentrating on my breathing. Once that was stable, I started concentrating on relaxing my muscles again, using the visualizations she had just taught me.

She went back to the fingernail, followed by blowing cold air on me again. She moved to different places: around my shoulder blades, under my arm, across my ribs. Sometimes one finger, sometimes two. She was constantly trying to overload me, forcing me to slow down my breathing and heart rate.

After what seemed like hours of this she stopped touching me, lifting both hands away from my back. "Very good, you're quickly gaining a good control over your muscles. But can you keep it up when I do this?" Her finger went back down and touched me between the legs, gently caressing the lips, and sending shivering pulses up my pelvis.

I gripped my fingers into the arms of the table and tried to concentrate on breathing, on stopping my abdomen from convulsing. I let out a slow, deep groan and closed my eyes, visualizing a wall of knotted muscles around my pelvis. I tried to visualize her stroking motions were unknotting the muscles, but visualizing what she was doing to me down there just made it worse. I could feel myself getting wet and I tried so hard to stop it. My breathing was getting worse and I was on the cusp of completely losing control.

Then she blew on it. The cold air was amplified by the wet fluids that were being spread around and I lost it. I started to whimper and felt my hips twist and glide my pelvis against her hand, I wanted her so bad.

Her other hand reached up and pressed two spots on my lower back. There was a strange tingle, not really painful, but not entirely pleasant either. At that moment I really didn't care — I wasn't able to concentrate on my back. She twisted her finger and pressed it inside me. It felt amazing! She twisted it and pressed it up against the wall and I suddenly came! The orgasm rushed out of me hard and fast and then every muscle in my body relaxed. I felt her pull her finger back out and her other hand released the sharp pressure from my back.

"Sit up please," she said.

I did so, sitting on the edge of the table, feeling tingly and weak. She stood in front of me, wiping her hand off on a washcloth, which she then threw to me.

"Clean yourself up now." I did so, wiping my fluids away with the warm damp cloth.

"I want you to remember that feeling, that sudden release when all of your tension, for just a moment, released and your muscles relaxed." I nodded. "And," she continued, "I'm sure you're curious how I made you orgasm so quickly?" I nodded again, "There is a sequence of pressure points to do it, men have a similar one, which can be fun, but generally people feel cheated when I do it. I'll eventually teach it to you, but it's not very useful." I nodded again and dropped the cloth into a small receptacle next to the table. "Now, put your clothes back on and have a seat on the couch."

I did as told. Putting my white dress back on, I sat down politely in the middle of the couch, knees together, hands in my lap, my back straight up. Master Velma sat in the large wingback chair to the left of the couch and draped herself on it at an angle, one long leg, bare skin exposed, propped over the right arm, and her back leaning over the other arm. She stretched backward over the arm for a moment. The arch accentuated the shape of her abdomen and breasts as she stretched. She sighed deeply as her back popped; then she sat up and settled herself in the corner between the seatback and wing.

"Ohh, that felt good," she purred. "Now, we need to talk, because you need an understanding of psychology." She leaned forward and pressed a button on the edge of the small table in front of us. A section of the table rolled away and a tray rose up bearing a decanter of dark caramel-coloured fluid and two glasses, each with a sphere of ice in it. Master Velma poured the dark liquor over the ice in both glasses and handed me one and leaning back again, looking totally relaxed, yet still amazingly beautiful.

She took a sip of the drink and her eyes closed slightly as she smiled and slowly allowed the fluid to slip past her slightly parted lips and into her mouth. I could see her roll the drink over her tongue a couple of times before she swallowed it. "That is one of the few pleasures I still have left."

She motioned me to try it, so I did. It was cool from the ice, tasted sweet as molasses, but sharp, and it burned like fire on my tongue and throat. I gasped a bit and set the glass down on the table. Master Velma laughed a subtle chuckle that came from her chest, and she smiled genuinely sweetly at me. "I guess it's not quite your taste," she said around another sip. "It's a single cask scotch, aged for sixteen years in maple, imported all the way from Earth." She took another sip, relaxing into it. "Each glass of this costs my employer two hundred credits. I'm sure Natha would be pissed if he knew I gave it to Marys."

I looked to the table, awed at the cost of the drink that I couldn't bring myself to stomach. "It's okay," Velma continued, "I enjoy the complex mix of flavors that are produced by the maple wood. But I completely understand if the sharp burn of alcohol is too much for you."

"Thank you, Master," I said, bowing my head.

"You need to relax," she said, "I know that Master Mary has hammered some strict rules of etiquette in you, and she will continue to do so." She paused for a moment, fixing me with a hard look from her beautiful cold eyes, "But you need to learn to relax. That is the key to seduction and persuasion: relaxation breeds confidence. If you are confident in your actions, other people will be confident in your actions, which gives you the lead and people will do as you say." She said this in a way that seemed to belittle everyone else, slightly shaking her head and pressing her lips together in a thin, confident, and manipulative smile.

I nodded, but didn't move, unsure of what I should do.

She sighed and waved her hand at me. "Relax, sit back, get comfortable, wow me with your confidence." I leaned back, settling into the soft back of the couch. I pulled a leg up and put it under the other, basically sitting on it, and put my arms out onto the back. I breathed out using the technique I had practiced with Master Jon, and tried to look confident. It didn't seem to work.

"That's a good start, but that doesn't look comfortable." It really wasn't, my leg hurt and my shoulders felt awkward.

"Okay," she said, "stand up, find a place where I can see you, that you can be completely comfortable." I moved over to the love seat, lying down on my side, my knees bent up to allow me space and my head resting on the arm. I let my hair drape over the edge. I breathed out slowly three times to relax myself sufficiently, then I smiled up at Master Velma.

Her smile deepened and she seemed to sink back into her chair a bit. "Good, you look relaxed and confident, like you're supposed to be there."

"But I am supposed to be here," I said, feeling a little confused and foolish.

"Well, yes," she said, gesturing with her drink. "Remember how you feel now. There will be times when you will have to fake feeling like this so you can convince people that you are calm and confident and totally in control." I nodded, trying to commit this feeling to memory.

"Now." Master Velma stood up and walked around a bit to see me at different angles. "You should understand the basic rules of seduction. First is confidence, second is that every person wants to be seduced, no one is immune to it. We all want to be appreciated and loved, and to be part of something greater. Humans are a communal species."

She walked over to me and twisted my head back a bit, then reached behind me and pressed my chest out just a touch. "In ancient times, kings and emperors would employ eunuchs as advisors, spies, and bodyguards because they were thought to be immune to the feminine wiles. A good seductress does not target you sexually, though; they get you by the heart, going after your loyalty. The idea is to make them loyal to you, then to make them give up their loyalty to another. Not entirely obviously." She laughed, took a sip of her drink, and then slid my top leg down, forcing my bottom leg out a bit and exposing the skin of my calf and the shape of my hip and thigh through the dress.

She stepped back a bit, nodded approval, and sat back down in her chair. "Turning someone's loyalty entirely is a long, slow process, and we won't be worry about that for a while. But, the concept of seduction is to turn someone's loyalty a little bit so that they provide you with something you want, either because they feel you deserve it, or because they want what you have so badly they are willing to pay for it in any way you ask." She looked at me for a second, "Does that make sense?"

I wasn't really sure; she seemed to be all over the place in this. "I don't think so." I ventured, trying to not sound nervous.

"Good," she said, smiling. "Let me give you the broad strokes. Men are simple and easy to seduce. Women are complex and even easier to seduce."

"How does complexity make it easier to seduce women?" I asked, feeling naive.

"If you have a really complicated device with a lot of moving parts, how hard is it to get the parts to stop? Pretty easy: you knock one part away and all the others throw themselves out of balance. Men tend to have fewer moving parts, being more single-minded. It makes them easier to target but harder to actually work as you need to be more direct. Women require a little more subtlety and finesse, but once you hit the right spot, the rest will fall apart on its own."

Her eyes tracked down the length of my body and back up, the grey-blue eyes hungrily eating the curves she had laid out. "Now, some practice. You understand that confidence is key, right?" I nodded, putting my head back in the position she had set it to. "Tell me why, in your own words, please."