Back straight, eyes down, knees spread. ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ Alice’ mantra repeated in her mind. The first thing she had to learn to reach her potential. To be worthy of the power surging through her she could never be important. No matter how she was seen by the world at large ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ Deep breaths, Alice centered herself. Headmistress would be there soon. She lifted the 9 tailed whip in her hands up above her head, knees resting against the wooden floor, taking care not to rest on her heels.

 

Alice was cold, aching and burning with desire. Her only companion, the ticking of the grandfather clock behind her. She had long ago given up telling how much time had passed. It could be minutes, hours. The only thing that kept her certain it hadn’t been days was the lack of reminders from her bodily functions. 

 

‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ She repeated in her mind, the first lesson the Teachers had taught her. She had arrived at the academy many months ago, surrounded by sombodies. All of them were there for the wrong reasons, be it fame, luxury, power. The essence recognized their lack of sincerity and so did the Teachers. One after the other they were sent home, or left by their own accord. ‘Only those who truly wish not to wield essence can form it.’ ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’

 

Only once all the somebodies where gone did training truly begin. It had been grueling, painfull. The rules would change on a whim, she had learned how to best cater to each of her many, many Trainers. Each one expects her service to cater to them. It had been impossible, she kept failing alongside all those who remained. Each failure was punished and each time she was made to repeat her mantra. ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ 

 

Line after line, notebook after notebook. ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ in pen, pencil and ink. ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ Down her wrist, up her thigh. ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’

 

With every repeat of that line, with every improvement, with every act of submission Alice’ power surged. She was taught how to store it, release it and most importantly transfer it. She finally got to see the fruits of her labor as their Teachers harnessed her essence to create displays of beauty and force. She was taught to take pride in those displays. ‘I take pride in how my Channeler uses me.’

 

Not long after her peers started disappearing. One by one they were sent to the Headmistress' office. Some would return, but most were sent away. To where Alice did not know, and she didn’t ask. ‘I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.’ She thought to herself, it wasn’t for her to know. Then, finally, came the day she was called for, given the correct protocol and told to wait

 

Finally her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Alice mentally checked herself. Back straight, eyes down, knees spread. She stayed entirely still, as she had been told. As she had been taught. 

 

A pair of high heeled boots stepped into her field of vision and the weight of the whip disappeared from Alice's hands. She lowered them, crossed in front, left over right. “Kiss it.” The order came from above. Her voice was stern and smooth as she held the whip in front of her lips. Alice leant forward, and her lips touched it, accepting it. “You suffered very well for me already. This will be your reward.” Alice wanted to thank her, but the protocol had been clear. Do not speak unless ordered to. She could feel a surge as she surrendered to the Headmistress rules.

 

The shoes disappeared from her field of vision, and not long after the whip kissed her back. Slow and light at first, but rapidly building until the strikes came fast and hard. “Repeat your mantra.” The Headmistress ordered. Again and again the strikes came, and through the building sensation and pain Alice repeated.

 

“I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.”

“I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.”

“I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.”

“I can’t allow myself to believe I am somebody.”

 

Time after time she repeated those words, those words that had been ingrained into her mind. The Headmistress was skilled and had picked the tool for the job. Each strike hard enough to keep Alice sinking into masochistic bliss, but none strong enough to break the string of words. “Where do you take your pride?” The Headmistress asked.

 

“I take pride in how my Channeler uses me.” Alice cried.

 

“Repeat it!” The Headmistress demanded.

 

“I take pride in how my Channeler uses me.”

“I take pride in how my Channeler uses me.”

“I take pride in how my Channeler uses me.”

“I take pride in how my Channeler uses me.”

 

The Headmistress kept Alice switching back and forth between the two Mantras, the beating continuing until tears were running down Alice’ face and her voice felt like it couldn’t take another word. That was the point when the Headmistress finally stepped back. “Not another word.” She ordered, and Alice heard the whip landing on the floor behind her. Then those boots were back in her field of vision and before the young apprentice even knew what was happening a foot pushed against her crotch. “Rub yourself against my foot. Cum for me.”

 

Alice did just as ordered, moaning, squirming, whining, begging her stiff and sore body on to satisfy that burning desire inside her, she felt the pressure against her crotch increase and before she knew it, she was there and let out a scream of pleasure, her body rocked with a release months in the making. 

 

As Alice gasped for air, struggling to compose herself, the Headmistress put a single finger under her chin and lifted the girl's head up, until their eyes finally met. “Good girl, Alice.” She smiled. Loving, caring, protective, the sternness in her voice was all but gone. “You’re ready.”