Submission in Seattle

by Jack Quaiz

  “Put your hands behind your head again,” he ordered, in his dominant voice which Monica found both charming and irresistible.

  He began to squeeze and fondle the perfect globes while he inspected them for any surgical scars. After a minute or two Monica felt lightheaded from the stimulation and became slightly unsteady. The delicious feeling of humiliation wasn’t helping.

  “You pass the test Little One. Those are the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen. Put your arms down now and take a deep breath. Can’t have you passing out now, can we?”

  “No, Master.”

  Cole sat down again and tried to take a few deep breaths himself. Could a potential partner be too perfect? He was feeling slightly overwhelmed.

  After a short time he ordered, “Take off your jeans now and place them on the chair."

  Monica complied and resumed her position, now clad in lacy white panties and black high heels. On her own initiative, she put her hands behind her head to thrust out her breasts in the manner that her new Master seemed to like.

  Although Cole was a card-carrying breast man, the view of Monica’s perfectly rounded hips and flat stomach almost caused his heart to stop. She had a tattoo over her right hipbone that he moved forward to examine. It appeared to be a small naked woman that might be described as a winged nymph. It was exquisite, perhaps the work of a famous tattoo artist. I’ll have to ask her about it later, he thought. Cole moved back to his chair and just looked at her for a few minutes, drinking in the intoxicating sight.

  His inspection of her body gave the solution to another mystery. Although she didn’t carry an ounce of what he would consider excess weight, she was slightly large boned and firmly muscled beneath her curves. Her reported weight of one hundred forty pounds was probably accurate, but most people would guess it to be about twenty pounds less. He was delighted that she didn’t resemble the starving fashion models, but he could understand how she might be worried that she didn’t measure up to society’s standards.

  “Do you lift weights often, Little One?”

  “Yes, Master. Three or four times a week.”

  “I see. Take off your panties and drop them on the floor."

  Monica quickly tossed her panties on the floor behind her, revealing her perfectly shaved pubis. Then she replaced her hands behind her head and parted her legs slightly.

  How did she know that I love a shaved cunt? Cole thought, as he struggled to breathe normally. Fortunately, Monica was looking at the floor and was not aware of his difficulty.

  “When did you start shaving your cunt, Little One? I don’t recall ordering you to do that.”

  “I’ve always done that sir. If you don’t like it, I can stop shaving, but it would feel very strange for me.”

  He knew his voice was shaky as he said, “That won’t be necessary. Continue to keep yourself smooth. It pleases me.” He noticed that she had a light tan without lines. In Seattle that meant about one session on the tanning bed each week.

  Pausing to collect himself, Cole managed to give his next order calmly, in a deep voice that a radio announcer would envy. “I said that you would be punished if you were late. We’ll have to take care of that before we can begin your training. Kneel on that stool over there, then bend forward and place your palms flat on the floor.” His command voice was working well now, he was relieved to see.

  Monica thought that she would faint from the excitement. None of her previous men had treated her this way. It was as if her greatest fantasy was being made into reality and she hoped it wouldn’t end too soon. She wondered if her Master would notice the slight trickle of lubrication starting to drip down the inside of her left thigh. Was she allowed to be aroused or would she be punished for it?

  Monica moved to a padded footstool about a foot high and two feet across. After kneeling with her knees apart and with her feet dangling off the back of the stool, she bent forward at the waist to place her palms on the floor. Her perfect ass was presented in a most lewd and vulnerable manner. Her breathing was rapid and her skin flushed.

  Cole tried hard to ignore his growing erection as he approached her from behind. “You’ll be spanked on your bare bottom until I feel you’ve been punished properly for being late.” He didn’t know if he had the strength to administer a good spanking since most of his blood supply seemed to be heading straight for his cock.

  Sneaking a look at her deliciously dangling breasts, he wanted to reach down and caress their sexy outer curves, but he pressed down gently on the small of her back and began to spank her. In this position, her hips and buttocks formed a classic symbol of feminine beauty. She was offering it to him as a gift.

  The stinging slaps were gentle at first, then harder. Red handprints began to show up on her lightly tanned skin. Monica reacted only with a slight intake of breath at each blow. Her firm ass muscles soaked up the spanking easily and Cole realized that he was hurting his hand as much as he was hurting her.

  Stepping over to the closet, he removed a thin wooden paddle that would nicely cover one cheek at a time. Measuring his stroke carefully, he struck the lower curve of her left buttock, then the right. Her body jerked slightly with each impact, but she held her position perfectly. He tuned his senses into Monica and felt that familiar joining that occurred to him during intense play sessions.

  Monica felt it too. She imagined that she was the one spanking a pretty kneeling woman who thrust her ass out to receive each blow. Although the woman was Monica herself, she was perceived as much more beautiful, almost ethereal. The heat from her punishment gradually spread through her body. She felt like she would explode from the strange sensation that was half deep submission and half physical lust.

  They both lost track of how many minutes went by or how many blows were struck. At some point, without conscious effort, their breathing became synchronized. When Monica started having trouble maintaining her position, Cole forced himself to come back from the strange space that he had entered with her. Regaining his senses, he noticed a heavy flow of slippery fluid on Monica’s muscular inner thighs where the tendons stood out with the strain of holding her position. He hadn’t even touched her cunt yet and already she was dripping, he thought.

  Standing up straight, Cole told her to rise and stand before him. He gathered her to him with one hand firmly gripping the hair at the back of her head. Looking into her eyes he spoke carefully. “I’m very impressed with you so far Little One. I’ve punished you enough for being late. As a test, I’m going to give you a choice about what we do next. You will not be punished for choosing either way.”

  “We can either begin your training or you can offer your new Master the pleasure of using that pretty cunt. Which option do you choose?”

  She took a step back as Cole released his grip on her body and hair. Kneeling before him with her hands behind her head and her eyes locked onto his shoes she said, “Master, I’d be honored if you would use my cunt for your pleasure.” Then she thought to herself, Oh please, oh please, oh please, I need it soooo bad!

  He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Unless he could get his hormones under control, this relationship was going to involve more sex than domination. Maybe that was not a bad thing, he thought as he escorted Monica to his bedroom down the hall.

  She looked around Cole’s bedroom with great interest. The fog of lust had dissipated just enough that she could remember her girlfriend’s theory that you could learn a lot about a man if you saw his bedroom. She noticed a king size bed with a padded frame around the edge. The handsomely built oak headboard contained some closed cupboards and several metal fittings that looked suspiciously like bondage points. Glancing up at the ceiling, she suppressed a smile when she noticed the large eye screws embedded in the ceiling at various places. She tried not to appear too curious, in case her Master objected.

  “Lie on the bed, face up, in the center,” he ordered. Taking two pieces of soft rope, he carefully tied each wrist to the headboard with non-tightening knots. He
then wrapped lengths of rope several times around each ankle to distribute the pressure without causing discomfort. He did not fasten the free ends to anything just yet.

  “Be quiet now and just enjoy, Little One. I certainly intend to enjoy you,” Cole said as he stood up to undress.

  She took advantage of the opportunity to study his nude, muscular form in the dim light. She knew exactly what she wanted and it was terribly hard to wait.

  With her arms securely fastened about three feet apart to the headboard, Monica could only lie there and allow her Master to explore her body, which would reveal to him her most private sexual responses. She tried not to writhe her hips as Master kissed her flat stomach around her navel and hip bones. With a great effort she was able to hold nearly still while he gave her breasts the most professional stimulation she had ever experienced. When he finally removed his mouth and hands from her glowing teats she would have sworn that they were steaming from the inner heat.

  Monica was afraid she might faint from extreme sexual desire and she was sure that she would die if he touched her rock hard nipples again, but still she kept nearly silent. Only when Master began tying her ankles to the headboard did she start to make a strange repetitive moaning sound as she imagined what might come next.

  When her legs were pulled all the way back and spread as wide as possible, her Master placed a pillow under her head so that she had a direct view of her own cunt. The strain of the unusual position was not as bad as she would have imagined, but the sight of her own erect nipples and gaping cuntlips was a visual stimulus that only increased her sexual tension. Her hood of her clitoris appeared to be much larger than normal and she wondered if it could possibly return to its regular size.

  Cole wondered if she was going to hyperventilate as he eased himself down on the bed and applied his tongue to her swollen clit. He disliked going down on women who weren’t shaved, but the sight of a sweet shaved cunt on a restrained woman brought out the cunnilingist in him. Dominant or not, he had been taught long ago that a gentleman always makes sure the lady comes first and old habits are hard to break. He made himself stop periodically to prevent her from coming too soon.

  He expected a woman with her pelvic structure to be rather large inside, so he was somewhat surprised to find that she was very tight. He used his tongue and fingers for a long time to make sure she was as well lubricated as possible.

  Eventually, Monica had the first of many orgasms. She felt that she was being forced to come. It would have been impossible for her to resist. She closed her eyes so that she couldn’t see Master doing that shameful thing to her private place. Most of her boyfriends had not been willing to do that because they thought it was dirty or disgusting. It seemed that Master was doing it simply because he enjoyed it. What better way to control his little slut than by forcing her to come in a most unladylike manner, with her legs spread wide and unable to move. She felt so humiliated, so slutty, that there was no longer any point trying to pretend that she was anything more than a simple whore, a sex object to be used for her Master’s pleasure. Each climax was stronger than the last.

  Cole kept his right hand on her left buttock, cupping it nicely and feeling the heat from her paddling while he attended to her with his tongue. After several minutes, his lust caught up with him and he could stand it no longer. Rising up on his hands and knees, he thrust his unusually thick, aching cock into her well lubricated sheath. With her legs so far back, he had to thrust nearly straight down. Even with the heavy natural lubrication, she was devastatingly tight. Instead of just a tight ring of muscle inside the entrance of the vagina, Monica was tight all the way to her cervix. He knew that he would explode any second. Would she be disappointed that he hadn’t lasted longer? Then he remembered that she had just experienced more orgasms than he could count and decided it was his turn. Besides, he was the Master, wasn’t he?

  Placing both hands on her chest to support his weight, he pinched her nipples viciously. After a dozen vigorous thrusts, every muscle in his body tried to contract at once and he shot his hot load deep into Monica’s lovely body.

  Much later, when he was able to see and move again, he used the last of his strength to untie the ropes and gather her in his arms. She had already fallen asleep and he joined her within seconds.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sometime during the night, Monica awakened from a heavy, dreamless sleep to make a trip to the adjoining bathroom. “Did all that really happen?” she asked herself. She felt a pleasant soreness in various areas of her body. It was proof that her memories were real and she displayed a huge satisfied smile as she walked quietly through the bedroom. Climbing back into the large bed, she snuggled up against her new master and returned to her deep sleep feeling warm, safe and complete.

  Hours later, Cole gradually regained consciousness as bright sunlight poured through the large window, rendering sleep impossible. Before he opened his eyes, the small portion of his brain that was working at this hour tried to analyze several things that seemed unusual. For one thing, he was curled up on his right side spoon fashion with a naked woman. He immediately remembered Monica and opened one eye. The sight of her delightful dark brown curls confirmed his guess. Most women would pay big money for a perm like that, he thought, but Monica claimed it was her natural look.

  Closing his eye again, he considered going back to sleep, but he realized that he could barely feel his right arm. Apparently it was under Monica and had been there a long time. He tried to reach up and feel her breast, but the hand was too numb. Not being able to feel a breast was serious! Feeling somewhat alarmed, he opened both eyes and began the process of extricating his arm from beneath his soft and warm new lover. It wouldn’t do to wake her yet, so he maneuvered very carefully. Eventually the arm came free and he was rewarded with a painful tingling sensation.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed cradling his right arm, Cole realized what else was wrong this morning. Looking out the window, he saw through the trees a large expanse of blue sky. Whoever was in charge of the weather had obviously forgotten that this was Seattle in November. No problem, just a surprise. Is it simply El Nino or is it a good omen? he wondered.

  As he waited for his arm to recover, he thought about how his relationship with Monica was developing. Was she his slave? Lover? Playpartner? Maybe it didn’t matter right now. He decided that the best thing to do was to just allow the relationship to develop naturally, without applying a label. His stomach reminded him that breakfast was more important right now anyway, so he pulled on a T-shirt and jeans before going down the hall to the kitchen.

  Monica awoke suddenly to the smell of coffee and a slight hint of onions frying. “Where am I?” she wondered, “and why do I feel so good?” Then she remembered. Her dream of finding someone to be her dominant sex partner was apparently being fulfilled. Stretching luxuriously in the comfortable bed, she wondered if Cole had found her acceptable, since he wasn’t here right now. Was he making breakfast for himself?

  Visions of last night’s events flashed through her mind. She gently caressed her buttocks to check for any damage. There was a slight tenderness that she found stimulating, but nothing disturbed the smooth surface of the skin. She grinned widely as she realized that this was certainly the most exciting thing that had ever happened to this little subby girl from Idaho. She was proud of herself for finding a safe partner who could give her what she needed. She now trusted Howard completely. There would be no question in her mind when he asked for her obedience. She longed to give it to him as a gift.

  Going into the bathroom, she performed her morning necessities including a quick shower. She twisted her long hair into a pretty ponytail and looked around for something to wear. In the closet, His closet, she found a pair of men’s dark blue flannel pajamas. She put them on and they felt oddly appropriate. With a slight feeling of apprehension, she walked toward the kitchen to see what kind of mood her master was in.

  Cole turned away from the stove, where he had ju
st finished preparing a frying pan of cottage potatoes with onions and various spices. He noticed Monica standing in the doorway wearing a pair of his flannel pajamas. She looked like a model from a slick lingerie catalog, demonstrating the latest cozy fashions for winter sleepwear.

  “Master? Is it OK if I wear this?” she said as she assumed a seductive pose in the kitchen doorway.

  He allowed himself to stare at her and a broad grin stretched itself across his face. She was devastating, even at this hour. It was nine o’clock on Saturday morning. They had played so intensely the night before that they were asleep before ten PM. Nothing like ten hours of sleep to put one in a good mood, he thought. Did Monica look this good every morning?

  “Of course you can wear it, Little One. What a good choice! You’re beautiful this morning.”