AUTHOR = emma_sub
E-MAIL = em_sub@hotmail.com
| EDITOR's NOTE - Due to the length of this story I broke it into multiple parts for your Browser's efficiency. |
He drove us. He was sober, I felt lightheaded. Warm in the car. After a few minutes he said, "Take off your dress. Now."
As we drove through the night, I looked at him and giggled. He was being serious. That sudden ache. He was waiting. My mouth dry. Luckily it wasn't built up. Only a few houses. The summer night not much past twilight.
Undid the safety belt. Twisted in the seat, unzipped the back. Sat back. Breathing heavily. Pulled off the straps one at a time. Revealing my bra. Lifted, pulled it over my hips, down my thighs. Wearing hold-ups. Wanted to feel sexy in them for him. Sitting in transparent black bra and knickers. I really wasn't doing this.
"Take off your bra."
Felt virtually naked already. He couldn't ask this of me. This was too much. But he wasn't asking me. He was telling me to. My vagina pulsed long and hard. I couldn't do this. I did. My nipples already hard, hardened even further. My breasts exposed.
"Now your knickers."
Again I followed his instructions. My sex itching. Wanting to rub myself.
"Strap yourself in again."
I obeyed dumbly. A car overtook us.
"Hips forward in the seat. Open your legs."
We drove on. Cars every now and then. I was naked. He had made me strip in the car! Fear and excitement coursing through me. Wetness leaking. Daren't speak. I could smell my arousal. His hand occasionally rested on my thigh.
At his house, he opened the car door for me. I was naked! As I stepped out I looked behind me and saw the telltale wet stain on the leather seat. The air cool around my damp sex, my nipples crinkled. Standing naked, bar shoes and stockings, in the night. Standing naked outside in the open!
"Close your eyes. You have a blindfold on. It is over your eyes. You cannot see anything. Tell me."
"I'm wearing a blindfold. Michael, people might see!" I looked around wildly.
"Close your eyes." I did. He spoke softly, firmly though patiently, "Don't do that again. Now, can you see?"
"I'm sorry. No. No I can't see."
"Why?"
"I'm wearing a blindfold for you." Oh yes.
"Your eyes will remain closed until I tell you, won't they?"
"Yes."
"Whatever happens?"
"Yes. Whatever happens." I sounded so meek.
Walking naked on his arm. Naked outside. Wet thighs. In my own darkness. So strange. Tempted to cheat. Didn't. Other senses prominent. Confined but able to move. Into the house. Warmer. Led into the lounge. Took my hands. Told me they were fastened together behind me. Excited. Told to stay. I knew I would do as he wanted. He ran a hand over me, over my breasts, stomach, and sex. Laughed as he saw me push my naked body to him. He knew me. Knew myself. Wet slut. Made me tell him what I was. He could do anything to me now. Couldn't stop him. On heat again. Always on heat for him. Couldn't even see what he might do. Told me anyone else might be there to see me. Verbalising it making it worse, better.
To a sofa. Legs spread wide. Pushed backward over the arm. Held my back as I fell backwards. Almost opening my eyes. Crotch forced up above my head. Flagrantly, over the arm. My hands under, behind me. Breasts thrusting. Never ever felt displayed and restrained like this. Aroused. Panting. Tingling. Wanting his cock.
His mouth to my ear. "Would you like to cum?" Trying to nod desperately. "You can. Whenever you want." I was so grateful. "Could you come without me touching?"
He was near me. His voice warm against my ear.
Mewing, nodding. "Perhaps." My body rippling. Thrusting up lewdly. Wanting it. Needing it. Not able to reach the peak.
"Think of an audience. People looking at you. Think of all those people watching, waiting for you to climax. You'd like them to see you like this, wouldn't you?"
Frantic. Trying to nod. Imagining people there. Nearer. Looking at me as I'm thrusting, pushing myself eagerly. Imagining what they could see. Grunting. Thrusting. Wanting to come for them to see.
"Have I to ask a total stranger to come and finger you? Finger that really slippery cunt of yours?"
"Yes. If you want to. Yes." My body hardly capable of movement, but thrusting. So desperate.
"Who shall I ask? Someone really ugly? Or really handsome? A smelly tramp? A disgusting old man? Or a big fat woman? A young girl? A young boy? They are all desperate to touch you. I think I'll offer you to the young boy. He's really excited you know. You shouldn't be offering yourself like this. He's by your legs, looking at your cunt. Such a wet cunt. His young cock is so stiff. He's never touched cunt before. You'll be his first. Would you like him to touch you?"
Nodding crazily.
I don't know whether I really felt a finger flicker over my clit. I think so. Whatever, I erupted within my virtual bonds. Moaning loudly. Feeling my sex spray on my thighs. I was out there. Somewhere else. Somewhere warm and pulsing. Watching my body convulsing from afar.
I woke. Clean bed linen damp against my mouth. Warm. Satisfied. Naked. The memories of the previous evening. Michael. Wetness of semen in my sex, a pleasing tenderness. Warm flesh against my leg and back. His hand caressed my back. Contentedly I moved under it.
He was so very good. Much better than any of my other sexual partners. Ridiculously so. He knew what I wanted before I did. He had made me aware that I wanted to give, offer myself. His hand caressed my buttock, my thighs. Waking me. Stirring me. His body against my back, his face in my hair. My legs parted without my permission. Hips compounded the rebellion by tilting. His hand captured gorged lips, sunk deep into a whirlpool. I heard him, above the sounds of my sighing, words hot against my ear.
"I want you to stay the day."
I'd never been allowed to before. "Uh. Yes. I'd like that."
"There is a price though."
"A price?" Confused. I felt his erection against me. He wanted to use me again. "Yes. Take me."
"You still don't know the price."
"I thought... I thought you wanted me. Wanted to make love to me again."
"Of course, but that isn't the price. The price is that you must obey me. Completely."
My body rubbed back against his hand as it played. I half giggled, half sighed into the pillow. My mind fantasised. I was embarrassingly wet. We had acted out our fantasies. He knew that I had fantasies about him when he wasn't there. Sometime his hand had ceased playing with me. Rather, I was crudely rubbing myself against it. I stopped myself sufficiently to regain some of my composure.
"Don't I usually?"
"Yes. But this time I mean fully. Totally." His body was against my back. Penis along the cleavage of my bottom. "Do you trust me?"
"Do you ask this of everyone you bed?" Trying to be amusing.
"No. I decided about you a long time ago. Then Charlotte told me that you were going to the party. I had to see if you were ready."
"Ready?"
"Yes. To accept your sexual submissiveness, or not."
"Ha! Not exactly politically correct, is it?"
"No. But then it is morally correct to be honest."
"You think I am a submissive?"
"Yes. Right too, am I not?"
"Perhaps."
"We both know it to be true. I think you'd like to be more."
I felt my face redden. "You want to own me?"
"If not me, you'll need someone."
The desire to rock my hips along his hard length was taking much of my concentration. It was a losing battle. It was the talk. I wanted him to just take me.
"Give up work? Sleep at your feet?"
"No. You need training apart from anything else. You'd still work. You'd be like anyone else. Simply, you'd belong to me. Your life wouldn't change that much outwardly. Certainly during the week. At weekends, of course, you'd be here, mine."
The border between fantasy and reality was slipping.
"Just suppose. Just suppose you happened to be right. What would you do to me?"
"Trust. It's all about trust. About you trusting me to give up your control to me. I want to take you further than we have so far. Take all responsibility for your wanton behaviour from you. This wouldn't be like the pretend ties. These would be real. The ties and the blindfold and your submission would be real. You would see how I value you. I would see that you are worthy."
"Value me? You're talking about making me a slave. Aren't slaves worthless?"
"Not at all. You will be very valuable. Certainly to me."
"Would you force me to make love to you? Whenever you want? Take me?"
I was aroused by the words, the ideas. These words, these actions would be real, not simply fantasy.
"Yes. Obviously. But other things too. Things that I think that you will enjoy. Being opened up physically and mentally. I would give you a slave collar to wear. You would have to accept. Anything. Everything."
"What if you are wrong? Or did something that I hated, couldn't handle?"
I felt so hot. Could feel sweat. Could feel myself leaking.
"Am I?"
"I... I... I don't know. But what if I couldn't do something?"
"You'd have a codeword. A safety word, for me to stop whatever it is. At first."
"You'd make me do naughty things... really naughty things... really rude things that I should never do?"
Before he had time to answer I pushed hard against him and at the same time I orgasmed suddenly. Deeply. Loudly, even when muffled by the pillow. My body responding rather immodestly. Eventually I calmed. Sweat tied my hair to my face, pillow wet against mouth. My body a prisoner between his hand and cock. He kissed my neck soothingly. I wanted more. So much more. He held me.
His mouth against my ear. "I think you ought to consider why you came then. I am going to make coffee. If you come down naked within the next quarter of an hour I'll know you wish to stay and take this further. If you are dressed or leave it 'til later I want you to know that I very much enjoyed being with you, if only fleetingly. It is nine fifteen."
"But.. but...."
"No. No buts." He kissed the back of my neck again and slid from the bed.
I didn't move immediately. Pulses still lapped through me from that extraordinary orgasm. I sat up. Discarded frock and underwear from the car near the door.
It would be too easy. Giving up all the responsibility. It wouldn't work. I padded to the en-suite. Sat on the toilet. Emptied myself. He seemed to know me. Too damned well. He seemed to understand. Sex had never been this good. Mouth dry. Fear. Could I walk away from this? Nobody could ask this of me! No one! Removed the last traces of make-up. He had. He wanted me. I would be free in his possession. Would I let him down? He would make me do rude things. I didn't know if I could go through with it. I couldn't accept accepting submission! Craved the security he was offering. Nipples hard. Even though the house was warm. It certainly wouldn't be too cold to be naked. I wiped myself. Returned to the bedroom. Picked up the dress. Picked up the underwear. Breathing erratic, stomach tense.
He might not like my body. My tits were too small. I wanted him to look at me, like me, want to use me, wanted to be his. Dropped the clothes, curled on the bed. The idea was so exciting. Narcotic. It was what I had fantasised about. I wanted him to make me. He would make me be what I couldn't be myself. Slut. So frightened of letting it out. He had frightened me by what he'd done to me. Not what he had done, what he had made me realise. What would he do to me? He makes me such a slut. Would he want such a slut? Would he make me feel humiliated and sexy? He did. He wanted me to be his. He knew what I was.
Stood up. I was so afraid. I was hot and sweaty, my mouth tasted odd. Breathed deeply. Walked purposefully downstairs. Stood before him. Naked. Breathing hard. Naked. Aware of my body. Trembling. Eyes pleading with him. Eyes near to tears. I'd done it! I didn't understand it. I was terrified by it. But I'd done it! My body roared with the fire within.
He looked up from his coffee. Smiling. Towelling robe. Older, wiser than me. Grey eyes caught mine. Held them, then assessed my body. Blushing furiously regardless of all the disgusting things he had already made me do. My hands moved in front of me. Shook his head. Near tears I tried to put my arms beside me.
"I don't know what to do with them." Nearly crying. Needing.
"Hold them behind you." Softly. I nodded, fearful. "You have a beautifully submissive body." I wanted to kiss him. So grateful. "Kneel down." Softly taking control. The sexuality back to the fore. Submitting to a man. To him. "Hands behind you. Knees apart." Nipples hard, stomach pulsed. Open, on display. Submitting. "You're naked for me."
"Yes."
"What do you want?"
"I... I want to be yours."
"Do you want to serve me?"
My throat dry. I couldn't say it immediately. "Yes."
"So, I was correct."
I looked at the floor. My face burning with shame. He took away his coffee. My stomach twinged. He took from his pocket a collar. A dog collar. Shiny black leather. Soft inside.
"If I put any collar on you it will be your slave collar. Is that what you want?"
"Yes."
"When I put this on you, or any other collar, you will be my slave and I your master. You will have to do all I tell you. Regardless. Regardless of what you may want. Do you understand?"
"Yes." I could hardly breathe.
He took the collar, lifted my chin, made me kiss the collar. He fastened it around my neck. It felt warm there. He took something else from his pocket. A dog lead. Fastened it to my collar.
"Will you stop if I beg you to? If it hurts or I can't do it?"
"If it's accidental hurt. I certainly will initially. In the beginning, whilst you are on probation."
"How long will that be?"
"We'll know when you're ready. We'll know if you're not."
"But how will you know if I can't do it, can't take it?"
"I'll know. I will be your Master. I'll know. You have to trust. Until you are fully trained I will give you code phrases, 'amber' if you want me to wait a while, 'red, red, red' if ever you wanted things to stop and have your freedom back."
I never wanted to use them. Pride. No, more, I realised. Lewdness. Felt like a slut. Wanted to be his slut.
He led me around the ground floor of the house. On a leash. Like a dog. At times sitting at his feet. It was so humiliating I wanted to cry. The humiliation was agony, but it was more. It was exciting! Sexually exciting! I was a bitch on heat again. Breasts free. Thighs wet. Made to go down on all fours and thrust up for him. He stroked me. I worked against his hand. Fingered me. I licked my own juices from his hand. Humiliating. So ridiculously horny. Took me back to the kitchen. Had me verbally say how excited I was using crude words.
Made me lay on my back on the table. Hips over the edge. Thighs up to breasts, then opened. Hands by my head without being told. By the collar. Defenseless. Exposed. He left me like that for a while, looking at me. Then he used me. Suddenly. He just entered me. I was already open and certainly well lubricated for him. With his hard cock, without warning. For his pleasure. No choice. He was big and hard and hot in my cunt. My pleasure was ready to break.
"No!" He stopped. "You are not to come."
He made me hold it back. He plunged in and out of my body. Made to realise that I couldn't climax until he allowed me. Making me know my position. Desperately tried to make my body cooperate. He was making me realise that I was his. But the realisation made things worse. My body was his and my pleasure was his to grant.
He would only allow me to come if I waited until I counted ten. He continued taking me, I slowly counting out loud for him. Too quickly. Had to start again. Sobbed. It was agony. Just lasted, just. Arching off the table. Totally unable to restrain my body once given permission.
Afterwards, I eagerly cleansed him. His cock sticky, dirty. Him and me on him. Loved his cock in my mouth. The taste of us. Loved doing it for him.
Sitting on a wooden chair he fed me. Wide spread thighs. My sex leaking liquids without being able to conceal anything. Hands behind me. He gave each mouthful, each sip to me. Wiping away dropped crumbs. Breasts, belly, thighs. I felt special.
I cleaned up after the food. Cleaned my chair. Cleaned my leakages. I wasn't allowed to dress. Odd being naked. Embarrassing. Collared. Exciting. Michael watching me, watching over me.
He fondled my breasts. He liked playing with them. He told me. It made me feel good. Squeezed them hard. Felt heavy. Made me gasp. His ownership making me hotter. He played with them over and over until I needed to climax. Just by playing with my breasts. Even I hadn't done that before. Certainly no one else. Kept me there. On the edge. Not allowing me to. Until he wanted to see me orgasm and then he told me to climax. My body simply responded to him. God it was good. He told me that I was a good little slut. Kissed me.
At times he allowed me to rest. He, dressed, would sit on the sofa. I would lay naked, my head on his lap being cuddled. Caressed. Gentled. At other times he would make me exhibit myself in some way to him, do things. Crawl slowly around the room on all fours as he watched, for example. Make me aware of my body on display. Being looked at. I had to use crude language, words like fuck and cunt. Humiliation and submission magnifying the arousal! Had never really admitted it before, even to myself. Now I didn't want it to stop. So horny, so wet.
Afternoon. The bath standing proudly in the large room. Proudly I bathed him. My hands all over him. Kneeling by the bath. Couldn't stop touching him. His chest, his legs, his penis, his balls. Even soft. I was allowed to touch him as I bathed him. My body constantly aroused now.
Towelling him dry. Kissing his thighs. My hands on him. Kissed his flesh. Tipped back my head. Kissed his balls. His penis. His cock. Taking him in my mouth. Hand wrapping hair pulling me back. Then, smiling, taking pity at my expression. A few moments more of him inside me. What had come over me? What had I become? What had he done? He let me pleasure him. He fucked my mouth. Spurted semen in me. He groaned. I gagged a little in surprise but greedily swallowed. Glowing. It was almost as if I had orgasmed, the pleasure I felt.
Before a full length mirror. I had hardly ever seen myself fully naked like this. My chest blushing. Nipples hard and dark. My breasts proud. The split of my lips couldn't hide. I was shocked. I had an obvious, voluptuous cunt. Nor did my labia hang in long loose folds like those of a woman I had once seen on a page of a pornographic magazine on the floor of a train. My lips were fat, pouting. Not quite touching. Dark pink inner lips always peeping. Looking eager. Thin, damp pubic hair unable to hide my excitement.
He asked me how I masturbated. I was so embarrassed. Made to confess how disgusting I was, confess those private moments. The embarrassment heating. He made me remember to use base words. It was my cunt. Not my sex. My cunt that I frigged. Actually, I readily accepted it as my cunt. Not caring about being polite now. Audacious. Brazen flesh for him. I had to tell him of my basic position, variations, what my fingers did, admitting my thoughts, surprising myself at how naughty I was. He pulled the information from me. Told him I had tried a vibrator but found it hard and I preferred my fingers. Felt humiliated by my obvious arousal. Aroused by my humiliation. Standing behind me. He took my breasts. Toyed and teased. Squeezed the hard nipples until I could only just stand it. Caresses and near pain. The pain feeling like a caress, the caress feeling like pain. My hips jerking. Knowledge and understanding seeping into me.
Both of us watching our bodies. Saw the pink marks of fingers on my flesh. Felt his erection behind me, pressing against me. Told to play with myself. He couldn't ask that! Not that. It was so private. My face burned. I couldn't do that. Frig my cunt in front of the mirror. I had given myself. I had to. For him to watch. Eventually parting my thighs. Could I go so far? My hand came to my mouth slowly. I wet my fingers. My breathing erratic. Wanting his but using my own. Then I stopped. My fingers at my cunt. At my wet cunt. Perhaps sensing the abyss. He caught my eyes. It was a turning point. Both saw it in each other's eyes. I continued. I needed to. I was obscene for him. Offering my obscenity for him. The knowledge and sight of my obscene behaviour making my excitement so strong. Taking disgraceful pleasure in exhibiting myself for him. He could see my fingers rubbing my clit. I came suddenly. It went on and on as I bucked.
He spoke to the mirror. "You shouldn't have come. You were naughty. I hadn't given you permission, had I?"
"No. Sorry. I didn't think."
"In future you will wait my permission for your pleasure. You were a naughty girl, weren't you?"
"Yes."
"A very naughty girl."
"Yes. I'm so sorry."
"What happens to naughty girls?"
"They are... sent away? Please don't. I'll be good."
I was suddenly frightened. I didn't want him to send me home. Reject me. I wanted to stay. God! I really wanted this! Needed it. I wanted the nakedness, the submission to him, this extreme excitement. I pressed back against him. It was difficult to come to terms with.
"You don't want to be sent away?"
"No. I'll do as I'm told. I promise."
"But you've been naughty?"
"Yes."
"But you need to be disciplined."
"Yes. But don't send me away! What will you do?"
To the bedroom. He told me that he would spank me as I was a naughty girl. It frightened me, but I was grateful he wasn't sending me away. I had to stand facing a corner for what felt like ages. Thinking about it. Hands behind me, legs spread. I didn't know if I could take any pain. I wondered how much it would hurt, if I could take it. A shameful amount of excitement built in me as I waited. Butterflies. I began to imagine his hand on my bottom. The sound of the slaps.
I was called to him. It was good that the waiting was over, yet I was frightened. He made me lay across his knee to be spanked. Naked, over his knee. So undignified. So humiliating. Toes just touching the floor. Hands on the floor. My puffy mound pressing hard onto his leg. The side of me feeling his cock through his robe. He was erect again! He held me down. My body adjusted for him. Imagined what he saw.
A caress over my buttocks. Then more. Confused I heard him tell me that, as this was my first time, I could orgasm when I was being punished without having permission granted first as he doubted I would be able to have the control needed just yet. He smacked me. Lightly at first. I could hear his palm against my flesh. Constant rhythm. Feel it. He talked to me. Told me what I looked like. Smack! Caressed my slippery cunt. What a slut I was. I needed to be taken in hand. Smack Gradually harder. He caressed my hot cheeks, my slippery cunt. I can come whenever I want? He smacked me again. Again. My bottom very hot under the smacks. Hurting. All over. Slut. Slut. Tears beginning to trickle from my eyes. There was a rhythm to the smacks. It seemed a natural rhythm. With pauses to caress. Small sobs. So hot. Whimpering. My bottom burning. Feeling so sorry. The sound, the rhythm of his palm on my flesh, loud in my ears. The pain of each smack. The heat of them all. More than ten. More than twenty.
Suddenly the ball of heat moved. To my sex. My cunt. Suddenly very, very aroused. Smack! Panic. Tried to get up. Held down. Pushing my bottom up to his hand now. Smack! Wanting more, harder. Not understanding what was happening. So hot. Depraved frenzy. Smack! He didn't bother caressing me now. Grunting. Smack! Harder. Cunt spasming. Smack! Coming. Oh God! Cunt spurting liquids! Was I weeing? No. Coming again.
I found myself laying on the bed. Fireworks occasionally still exploding. His fingers rubbing my heated cheeks. Cooling with something liquid. Oil, cream? So good. A finger pressed against my bottom. I stiffened in surprise. It slid into me a little. I lay tense, squeezing desperately against it. Other hand still caressing. Finger imbedded. He waited until I relaxed more. Moved it slowly in and out. My body danced to his tune. Humiliated. Began to push with him. Aroused by everything, anything. He stopped, withdrew.
I was exhausted. I couldn't take any more. Couldn't take any more in. I needed a rest before I could move on physically, mentally, emotionally. He held me in his arms. He let me sleep.
He woke me. He was dressed. He fastened my hands with a leather strap of some type. My ankles too. I had never been tied before. Only pretended. Tested the bonds. Pulled back and forth. The feeling of being confined was pleasant. My breathing was erratic. Naked and confined. I was unable to do anything. Except become aroused.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes. I can't do anything."
Kissed me. My mouth his. "Yes you can." I could be aroused. His hands strongly gentle all over my body. His caresses loving. "You are beautiful. You make me aroused. You being my submissive, wearing my collar, bound. You mean so much."
I felt like a horny princess. My body ached with need. I wasn't allowed to remain bound for long the first time. I realised I would have been happy to stay bound longer!
Later I was fed again. Found myself starving. He was going to take me home. I burst into tears. I thought I would stay. I had to obey him until he had taken me back to the world I thought once as real. He told me to put on my dress. Nothing else but that and my shoes. I still wore my collar. Feeling still naked for him without anything under the dress. He drove.
Near my flat he stopped at the wood. He led me along a worn earth path. Eventually there was a park bench. Partially broken now. I was told to take off my dress. Standing naked but for the collar. Surrounded by trees. The summer night not cold. Nipples hard. Whenever I was naked for him my body was ready for him. Thighs against the uneven back of the bench. Bent over. Made to offer myself. Asking to be fucked by him. He roughly opened my cheeks with his hands and proceeded to rut me. I loved him using me to pleasure himself. I loved his hard flesh dominating my body. Something to the side caught my eye. Someone. Dark clothes, dark hair. Secretly watching me being fucked. As we had watched someone once. I loudly begged Michael to allow me to climax. He allowed it. Crying out I came. Watched! And again.
Semen dribbling from me again as I settled at his feet to cleanse his cock. I loved that little task. The figure still secretly watched. I shivered.
At the flat he made me strip, kneel, took off the collar. Made me kiss it. Held me for a long time and talked softly.
My body felt alive. My body remembered. He was right. Not just fantasy. It had been real. I had a gnat bite on my buttock. A submissive slut frigged herself often. The modern woman cursed her weakness.
In public, at work, I felt strangely rested. On top of things. Yet I fought with myself all the time I was at home alone. How could I have acted like that? I shouldn't have allowed myself to be used. Obviously he had only wanted to use me, for my body. Yet I knew I had wanted it. Not only wanted it but fully enjoyed being the submissive slut. I wondered if I had been drugged, but I remembered everything, knew really that I hadn't. At times I remembered too clearly. I wanted to be my own woman. Yet I had luxuriated in the lack of responsibility, the strange freedom I had felt when I was being told what I had to do to please him. I decided I wasn't going to see him again. Wasn't going to allow myself to sink that low again. I was my own boss. No one would own me. I wouldn't act out his fantasies.
He phoned me at work. Heat suffused my body on hearing his voice. "Do you still wish to submit?"
"Yes." Breathing ragged. Lower lip quivering. A tear of sweat ran down inside my shirt. Knickers already wet.
THE END (not yet) go to Part 2
