Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series

by Caldwell, Cordelia

  K was bare chested in grey sweat pants with white sneakers on and thick white socks. She swore sometimes he’d go sans shirt just to get her going. He always talked about how irresistible she was to him, but the truth was, he was becoming more and more irresistible to her every day. There were weight gloves on his hands with his fingers exposed to keep him from getting callouses. “Floor work” her “go getter” of an aerobic coach had called it. Suicides- she had tried them, just recently in the bedroom one of the last few days. Just getting the balance was laughable; she'd fallen in an undignified heap. She peeked back in on K, he was palming the barbells now, up and down, than at an angle, he could rest well, not having to worry about her craning him with one, she’d have to lift it first and had tried one day while he was away. That hadn’t gone so well either, she could barely lift one- with two hands. Shoulders wide, breathing with exertion, (nice and slow, in out, in out) a sheen of sweat on one elbow pushing up with his hips. The man did have a nice ass. Damn Skippy! He should leave her hands free more often so she could grab it while he-

  She sucked in her breath, now the lunges with the barbells. Kickbacks, now he was just showing off!

  He was on his elbows now and then came up on his hands for push ups, how much could one woman take? Not much more, but this was definitely her favorite part. Her eyes were glued on him as he ditched his shoes and locked on those damn gravity boots. He worked his abs with a kettle bell from upside down, his flat stomach rippling with muscle.

  The last exercise was always the same and was also one of her favs. The traditional, sexy pull up. Seeing his back and shoulder muscles bunching and pulling was a real treat. He really was using that bar in some creative ways, her mouth went dry and oh yes what was that on the floor? Oh just her tongue. Her palms were sweaty and she was breathy... This watching him every day had to stop (and now before the yoga started).

  Gathering her courage she walked in the room. He let loose the bar giving her his full attention. “I can do that”. She said.

  “You can?” He responded with doubt, but assertively she approached the bar to show him, but after a couple jumps can’t even reach the damn thing. She never realized it was so high. He reached up, doing something to adjust the bar bringing it down a couple feet while trying to hide his mirth. Then he put his hands on her waist and with just a little lift she was able to reach the bar.

  He let her go and whoa, did it always feel like this? After much straining and pulling she. can. do. one.

  Afterwards she hung and let herself fall the foot or so the ground. “Whoo! Well, that’s quite enough for today!” she said rubbing her aching shoulders.

  She turned and looked at him. His face was impassive, serious. “Quite impressive.”

  “Well, thank you sir.”

  “Your welcome.”

  After a pause she said, “I used to be able to do more...”

  “Of course...” Then he added, “I’d be glad to help you with some assisted pull ups if you’d like...”

  “Oh, that would be - acceptable.” She nodded in agreement rubbing her aching shoulders. “They might be a little tougher than I remember. So, just until I can get a good rhythm going you understand.” She swung her arms back and forth making the last of the ache disappear.

  Rhythm?” His eyes widened in understanding, “As in more than one?”

  “Well yes K!” She responded. “That’s the whole idea. Maybe do some sit ups too and some of that yoga stuff I see you doing? Really, try to look more like you do.”

  “More like I do!” He responded in horror. He checked out her behind before giving it a gentle squeeze. I like your body, but you can work out with me if you like. She smiled at him enjoying the shared private joke between them before looking down shyly. “I really want to learn the other stuff too.”

  “What stuff Francine?” he said not able to resist running his hands softly through her curling hair. What was it about her that he couldn't seem to keep his hands off her?

  “The self defense.” She responded quietly. His hands still and drop to his side. “I’m tired of being weak.”

  He stopped, and said quietly,“You’re not weak Francine.”

  “Yes, I am K. I’m weak, that’s why you-”

  “Hey,” K took both her upper arms and turned her around to look at him, “Look at me, now Francine.” Slowly she did.

  “You are not weak, do you understand, what we do shouldn't make you ashamed and it had nothing to do with why you were targeted.” It might have made you more valuable though, but he wisely kept that last thought to himself. Of course those idiots wouldn't have had the faintest idea of what to do with her regardless. His Francine required a firm, but patient hand. He looked at her in the light shining through the windows. Such smooth perfect skin, what was he saying? She made him lose his train of thought. Even now he couldn't stop touching it, she was a Dom's dream. Oh yeah...

  “You are submissive, and I’m a Dominant. Who knows why some like to serve and some like to dominate? It doesn't mean that you’re weak, and I’m strong, trust me, I’m not always strong.” (she gave him a look that said all kinds of yeah right). “Francine, the point is you're not weak, and if you want to learn to defend yourself, of course I’ll teach you.” He said the last very gently.

  She wasn't expecting this and unexpectedly she felt tears, shameful tears burn in her eyes “Oh Francine...” he said not knowing what else to do he pulled her close, his gloved hands with the exposed fingers pulled her close to his lean naked chest and ran through her curls as he made soothing sounds.

  “I was so afraid...”

  “Only a fool wouldn't of been Francine. It’s OK, shhh. Let it out. It’s OK. You’ve been very brave, let it out brave girl.”

  They stood like that for several moments he cradled her in his arms sheltering her from the invisible mire surrounding her. She cried against his warm muscled chest until her tears wet the front of his chest. He was stroking her hair silently with the weight gloves. Finally she felt at peace, if there were any more tears she couldn't find the strength to cry them.

  Chapter 16

  There was something very stalwart about his Francine. Yes, she had broken down earlier, but this was not something she did regularly. No, she kept it all in, and eventually self imploded, that was her way. One thing she always claimed up about were the dominance games they played. The closest they’d come to talking about it was earlier that was just long enough for her to make it clear to him that there was something wrong with her for liking it.

  He couldn’t be sure, but he could almost believe that safe word or no, if they were out in the “real” world she’d have probably already sent him packing by now. That would have been very unfortunate. He thought again about what a natural submissive she was, molding like clay to his dominant personality. He wanted her to admit to him how their games made her feel, to get her to the point where she was not ashamed. He had a feeling that this was not a control she would give over easily. That’s why he’d planned a new game for them to play.

  He laid out his mat on the bed. She took off her clothes and got into bed, he was already there. Feeling the mat beneath her she gave him a worried glance, but before she could work things up too much in her mind he pulled her close just enjoying the feel of her body in bed spooned next to him.

  Eventually he felt her melt into him, her heart rate even out, “Give me your wrists submissive,” he commanded softly. He felt a shiver travel through her, but the steel in his voice compelled her, the way he knew it would. He used his soft cuffs on her slender wrists making sure they weren’t too tight and secured them to the post above her head. His hands slid lightly down her body.

  Francine’s mind was clouding a bit, but at the same time was weird. It was a strange combination of feelings and she only felt the strange mix when he was playing one of his games with her. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about this stuff, in spite of his words earlier. Just don’t respond Francine, a small part of
her commanded. you don’t have to, think of something else - use your safe word, the tiny voice said, but her eyes were already closed as his skillful hands continued to run down up and down her body. He was moulding her thighs now, lightly massaging before sliding his hands back up, cradling her breast, pulling on her nipples before shaping them like clay.

  She pulled on the restraints finding them gentle but firm, she felt helpless as he increased the massage, the stimulation of her nipples, before his palms cradled her breast. Swiftly she felt the heat as it rose within her, clearing her confusion like clouds rolling from a clear sky. As her nipples bunched under his manipulative fingers she felt her breath as it increased and before she knew what he was doing she was pushing against him with her hips, so eager.

  “How do you feel about what I’m doing right now?” He asked.

  She didn’t want to answer him. It felt so good what he was doing, but a part of her was still embarrassed, worried about enjoying something so different.

  “Not answering me?” He said. “You should always answer me Francine, it’s only polite.” His hand was between her thighs now and she felt her breath speed up even more in response.

  “What was the question again?” She asked.

  “Now see, you’re not even paying attention to me are you Francine?” Her thigh was thrown over his, his hand was stroking over her hardening clit. It was really hard to focus on what he was saying. She was becoming more and more eager for him to just get on with it. “You will not be using me like a dildo Francine.” He said, and then his hand left her body. She whimpered in frustration. He was irritating. He really was.

  She felt him reaching for something, but couldn’t see behind her to check out what it was. “I asked you how you felt about your cuffs.” He said.

  Oh yeah, that question. She didn’t want to answer him. For some reason admitting to him how much she liked them was like admitting defeat and in spite of her hunger she felt herself shutting down. She wanted him, very badly, but there had been so many months that she had not had someone, it was a hunger she was used to dealing with.

  Without warning he flipped her over on her knees coming between them, his palm came down on her derriere again and she bounced a bit as she tried to escape from any more swats. “Oh, that was nice Francine,” She heard him say. “I like the way you moved when I did that. But I need you to stay up.” He slid his hand under her body and began manipulating her flesh again. Your safe word Francine. She heard the voice in her head. But she was so close, almost there. “Again, you’re not even trying to answer me are you Francine? Still so stubborn.”

  “Every time you refuse to answer me there will be a consequence Francine. You should always answer, and say, yes sir.” She felt the anger rise with her desire. Damn him and his swats! “Dammit!” She exclaimed. “I don’t fucking know,” she finally said her ire up.

  “Well, that’s a terrible answer Francine. And not even a Sir on the end.” She felt the sting of another swat, Dammit! Before his hand was back between her legs, shamefully the sting of the swat and the stimulation was revving her up even more.

  “I want you to be communicative Francine, you’re way too closed off. Lets see if we can get you to open up.”

  Damn him! She wanted him, so badly, but he’d already seen so much, learned so much about her. No one else had cared this much about her feelings. What was his problem?

  He placed a pillow, then a pad under her hips and she felt as soft click as he secured her legs on opposite sides of the bed so she was spread eagle face down head her head cushioned on another pillow. He ran a hand lightly over her lower body as she turned and searched for his face warily in the semi dark. he was like a looming shadow over her.

  “I think we will chastise your lower body today...,” he says, his voice is already thick with anticipation for whatever it is he has in mind. She felt herself whimper at the thickening expectation in the air around them, at the tone of his stern voice. Not knowing what to expect next already has her wiggling with desire and frustration..

  Damn him, she thought again, damn damn damn. His hand continued to stroke her back, “Turn your head the other way Francine.” She does. He bunched her hair,in his palm. Not enough to hurt, but enough for her to get the message. “Bound on my bed and still no yes sir.” She felt him as he breathed her in, like he’s inhaling everything she is. He stroked her a bit more with his hand, lightly again over her back, her bottom, her thighs, her calves. Then she felt something else, it was like she had been struck with some kind of switch.

  On closer inspection she realized it really wasn’t a whip, more like a little switch, in any case her eyes got bigger at it’s appearance. What exactly was he about now?

  When he brought it down on her, it didn’t hurt not really, the texture was different then when he’d used him palm of course. That always stung right away. Maybe this wouldn’t really hurt at all, maybe he was just doing it to make a point, this one more figurative than literal. Either way the feelings inside of her were becoming more intense, spurred on by her helplessness and the feather strokes from the switch.

  He continued his work as he stroked her with it lightly, then a bit firmer, then whap. It fell on her bottom and it stung. She let out a little cry, “Hmmm. I think you should keep your noises behind your lips tonight. Otherwise I might get distracted and you won't be able to come as soon as you’d like.” Come? Could she still come with all of this going on? Then she felt her hand between her legs again, his hands slid over the damp, swollen flesh easily and she pulled again at the restraints as she tried to grind against him, so close... Again he removed his hand, the switch felt like a bee sting and her nervousness increased along with the terrible hunger. She choked back a frustrated sob. “You didn’t think you were so close did you Francine?” His hand went back between her legs as again he found her warm, moist center. Her folds were already so slick for him, shamelessly now she began to twist and move against his fingers, again seeking release.

  He ruthlessly continued to manipulate her and this time, just when she felt herself start to crest she felt the blows to her bottom, in earnest now. He spaced the burn out in an even way, never quite striking the same place twice. Then he systematically worked his way over her thighs and finally her calves until everything burned. All the while periodically, carefully working her now swollen hardened nub, it sought out his fingers, eagerly and he was flicking at the hardened carnal now, teasing. Sometimes he’d barely touch it at all, always making sure that it did not have the pressure it needed to satisfy her. She was worked up to the point where she made noises behind her lips, occasionally, finally, gasping out the occasional Sir. Finally he stopped, it burned so bad...she wanted to come so bad.

  “Look at me Francine.” She did immediately.

  “Sir?” The room was thick with the smell of her arousal. She could tell by the way he asked that he was pleased with her, and incredibly turned on himself.

  “Have you had enough?”

  “Yes sir.” She gasped really meaning it.

  “How do you feel right now?”

  Her walls were down, “Hungry sir, so hungry.”

  “Do you like the cuffs Francine? You could have asked me to take them off, but you didn’t.”

  He was right. She felt herself hesitate. “It’s taking you a long time to answer Francine, it makes me wonder about your sincerity. Maybe we should add a little something.”

  Oh no! Shit shit!! She twisted in her bonds again feeling the cool against her damp hungry pussy. Then she felt the bed move as he pulled out something that looked like a tool bag next to the bed and she felt something against her elevated behind. He dipped it first in her drenched pussy before placing it at her back door. Fuck! An anal plug! He had warned one evening her he might use one. Think about how good it would feel to bear down on something, just for me. She’d tried like crazy not to think about it ever since, but like a stubborn flu the thought had continued to plague her, making her damp below. “
Ah, good girl, and this will please both of us...” The praise affected her the way it always did as it went right into her chest, making her arch her hips toward him. He rewarded her by stroking her clit a bit more. “ Arch up on your knees for me as much as you can, I’ve left you some room. Trust me, it will make this easier.” Placing his hand beneath her he first pressed one slick finger against her slippery with lube and her own juices, he’s so twisted she thought feeling her asshole melt around his finger. Why couldn't they just screw like normal people and just get it over with? Then the plug was there, sliding in easy, thanks to his probing, talented fingers. She’s ready for it, almost eager, as she bore down on it. He was back to massaging her clit again, still careful not to set her off as he slowly worked the plug in. Oh God, it does feel good!

  She’s panting now from the odd, but pleasurable sensation, “That’s right Angel, bear down on it for me, it’s the smallest one I could find, just for you.” She felt her ass close over it. He squeezed and caressed her cheeks approvingly. “It does looks so pretty in your asshole.”

  No sooner was the small plug rooted with a barely discernable pop did it begin adding almost unbearable sensations to the heat she was already experiencing.

  He went back to using the switch, as he continued to stimulate her. Oh please. The continuing blows caused her bottom to continue to move and press against the plug inside her activating all of her nerves and turning her on in ways she’d never felt before, desire flowed like waves throughout her whole body. He put the switch down and rubbed a heavy up and over her sore bottom with the plug inside and said “Tell me Francine. How are your bonds making you feel?”

  She wracked her brain through her desire filled fog. It came out shaky “Like I can’t move, I can only feel.” His hand moved to massage and soothe her untouched back.

  “And you like it?” He prompted.

  “Yes, I like it. It makes things, simple.”

  “You have no responsibility this way do you Francine? Something tells me you’ve been a very responsible girl.” His hand stroked over her, “But when you’re bound like this you can’t help what’s happening to you.”