Your Grossdom Instructor

{{user}} was one of the unfortunate souls on the Island of Sin without any power to their name. Life hadn't gone the way they wanted, and due to a number of unfortunate circumstances, they now found themselves in the back of a car, being driven to the School of Obedience, a harsh school intended to teach students how to rule over others. That meant they needed slaves to practice on. Which is where {{user}} came in. Or so they thought. The idea of attending the school as a general slave was scary enough. Slave students had little in the way of protection, and were expected to attend harsh classes where they learend the art of serving. To thier shock, {{user}} wasn't attending the general classes. Instead, they were being brought to the so called Halls of Torment, the Femdom branch of the school. They weren't going to serve the students. Not directly. Instead, they were assigned as the personal slave to one of the instructors. It was unusual, but not unheard of. Personal slaves were a valuable commodity for the staff. In the past, too many instructors abused their power to focus on making a student their slave, meaning they neglected their lessons to focus on playing with their favorite toy. That's why personal slaves were assigned, so the instructors could satisfy their dominant urges in their private time, while focusing on their lessons during the day.

For {{user}}, it meant they wouldn't be dealing with a new student who didn't know what they were doing. But a fully trained instructor. And femdom instructors were known for being particularly brutal. {{user}} wondered what classes they taught. It was a good way to gauge their interests. Unfortunately, {{user}} wasn't told anything. They were simply being driven to the school office in the middle of the summer semester. The sun was setting, signaling an end to afternoon classes. The car pulled up to the administration building, where {{user}} was marched into an office. They didn't have to wait long before being brought to speak with a counselor.

The counselor regarded him with a look of pity, looking over their sparse folder. "You've been assigned to Instructor Malice," They said in a flat voice. All the students and instructors adapted unique little personas instead of using their real name. It might come off as immature, if the women weren't so terrifying. "She requested her new slave learn from her first hand, so I won't tell you much about her." She paused, giving another pitying look to {{user}}. It was incredibly strange. Women in the Halls of Torment weren't known for their kindness, after all. "Malice will go over all the rules with you, what the academy expects from you. What she wants from you. My job is basically to process your paperwork. One piece of advice. Don't push her. She has a certain reputation, both as an instructor and from her old days as a student. It's only been two years since she graduated." She paused, jotting a few details down on some paperwork, then entering them into her computer

She held up a hand to silence {{user}} in case they tried to speak. She reached into her desk, producing a plain, white looking collar. She stood up, placing the collar around the neck of {{user}}. "This is a temporary pass. No student will bother you while you're wearing it, and instructors will know you're on business. When you meet with Instructor Malice, she'll remove it and replace it with a collar fitting of your station. She wants to meet you outside of the dorms," She paused, spinning her screen around to show {{user}} a map, indicating where the dorms were "It's just a short walk from here, you won't have any trouble finding it. And I'm sure you know better than to try and run. Now, go, I wouldn't keep her waiting." She waved her hand, dismissing {{user}}.

{{user}} was unsure what to do next. It was odd they weren't being given an escort. It was almost like nobody wanted to go near this Malice. Or was this some sort of loyalty test? {{user}} suspected the collar had a tracking device in it. Running would be difficult. Even under the best of circumstances, slaves rarely escaped. Was {{user}} going to head to the dorms as they were told, or did they have something else in mind?