Secret Submission

by Diana Hunter

“But now it’s time for me to take you home, Sarah.” He stood and she followed suit, her stomach growling. They both laughed. “What say we go have breakfast before I take you home?”

  “Definitely!” She grinned and they headed out the door. She had a decision to make this week, although she already had an inkling what it was going to be…

  Chapter Three

  A second try

  All week Sarah thought about Friday night. She’d gone to work Monday morning, just as usual. She had gone about her normal, everyday tasks, same as she always did.

  But she wasn’t the same. And she was surprised that no one noticed. Everything was tinted differently and Phillip’s presence was with her every moment. Even doing innocuous activities such as bending down to pick up a fallen document, or reaching up high to get something off the upper shelf; she’d remember being in similar positions with him. Tied. Unable to move. Controlled. His toy. She blushed with remembrance. His slave.

  Every little moment like that made her wet. She had taken to bringing an extra pair of panties with her to work and changing at midday. A constant state of arousal had been her manner all week.

  Her “normal” week.

  And now it was drawing to a close. Finally! She’d put together a small suitcase of clothes for Monday and put it in the trunk of her car that morning. How she’d made it through the day, she had no idea, but at last she was out of the building and driving down the highway.

  It was almost 6:30 before she pulled into his drive. His car was already there and she remembered he said he’d be waiting. Desperately hoping she hadn’t made him wait long, she practically flew out of the car and up the path to his door. But once on the porch, she paused to collect herself. She was making a fool of herself, running this way. She was behaving like a slut that needed to rut. She made a wry face. Which wasn’t so far from the truth.

  There was no bell, so she knocked. Softly at first, then with more courage. Would he be mad at her for the traffic’s delay? Would he even still want her? “What ifs” ran through her head as she waited, trying not to bounce in impatience.

  The setting sun lit his powerfully built frame as he opened the door and stood smiling at her. Again dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, his appearance took her breath away. Tall and rugged, the sun made shadows in the deep dimples of his cheeks. His shirtfront half open, the soft evening light caressed the smooth skin of his muscled chest and Sarah’s heart beat a bit faster. How could she have forgotten how his hair curled over his ear like that? She stood grinning and speechless.

  He stood in the doorway, blocking it with his incredibly handsome body. “Good evening, Sarah. Have you come to spend the weekend with me?”

  She blushed and lowered her eyes. “Yes, Sir, I have.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad you came. You know the rules now. Are you ready to enter my house?”

  She raised her head and looked at him, her voice and manner steady. This was what she’d waited for all week. “Yes, Sir. I am ready to enter and become your slave.”

  He stepped aside and she crossed the threshold.

  * * * * *

  The corridor was at once familiar and strange. Everything was exactly where she remembered it being, but she was a different person entering now. She’d seen the house in different lights throughout the previous weekend, but this time she was here, knowing what she was in for.

  Phillip walked straight into the living room, certain she would follow without being told and was pleased when she did so. Certain now that she was here. His week had been spent getting ready for the moment she returned. If she returned. Hearing her car in the drive had been the sweetest sound on earth. Now he would test the strength of her resolve. He sat comfortably in one of the large easy chairs while she stood, chewing on her lip in uncertainty.

  “Undress for me, slave.” His voice was quiet, commanding.

  Her fingers trembling with nervousness, she unbuttoned her white silk blouse, pulling it out of her skirt. She let it slide off her shoulders and fall gracefully to the floor. She had to hide her grin as the blouse landed exactly as she’d practiced all week long. Reaching behind her to find the zipper to her skirt, she pushed out her breasts to give him a bit of a show.

  A smile twitched at his lips. The little minx wanted to play! Delighted, he sat back to enjoy her performance.

  She slid the knee-length skirt down her legs and stepped out of it, looking for a place to set it down. Spotting an empty side chair, she stooped to pick up her blouse and took the two pieces of her outfit to the chair, clad only in her bra, panties, stockings and heels.

  Returning to her position, she reached behind her again to undo the clasp of her lacy white bra. For a moment, her breasts pushed against the cups and then fell as they were released from their confinement. With a deft toss, the bra landed neatly on top of her folded clothes.

  Now she pulled down her panties and stockings together, her breasts hanging forward as she did so. She kicked off her heels, and took the entire pile to the chair, then came back to stand before him, clad only in her earrings and a gold chain necklace she’d forgotten she was wearing.

  With an appraising eye, he enjoyed her performance. She was very sexy—and she knew it. He would have fun with her body and her mind this weekend.

  Without moving from his chair, he commanded her again. “Kneel.”

  This, too, she’d been practicing all week. She knelt without hesitation, her hands clasped behind her back and her elbows slightly together so that her breasts pointed out in front of her. Already she could see the nipples sticking out. Keeping her chin parallel to the floor, she gazed straight ahead, waiting for his next command.

  She felt rewarded when he told her, “Good, slave. You remembered.” A thrill went through her and she could not contain her smile. But she dared not move her eyes to look at him. She remained still.

  He now uncoiled from the chair and again she was reminded of the slow grace of a wildcat, moving out on the hunt. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he moved around her, examining her from every angle as she knelt before him.

  Her cheeks reddened, aware of his scrutiny. All week, she’d practiced this position, the only one he’d taught her. She was up to almost 10 minutes before her muscles would cramp and she’d have to move. Only the grin on her face gave away her own pleasure—knowing he was surprised at her endurance—and pleased.

  “Stand.”

  Gracefully, for she had practiced this as well, she stood, only wobbling a little as she rose. She still kept her eyes front, but brought her legs together, leaving her hands behind her.

  He nodded his pleasure, smiling. “You are ready for another position, my slave. Put your feet about a foot apart.”

  She looked down to check how far a foot apart was. Her pussy was more available now, but still comfortably covered. Returning her gaze forward, she gripped her hands tighter, the muscles in her arms beginning to twitch.

  “Now move your feet out another foot.”

  Without looking she did so, her inhale sharp as the cooler air of the room hit her now spread pussy lips. With her feet so far apart, she was open, vulnerable. Her eyelids fluttered a little as elation thrilled through her.

  Walking behind her, he saw her arms trembling. “Let me help you here,” he whispered into her ear. His breath so close increased her desire. She felt the familiar leather around her wrists and heard the familiar “click” as he locked the cuffs in place. Now she could relax her arms a bit, letting the cuffs take some of the pressure of keeping her arms pinioned behind her.

  He rubbed her arms for a moment, feeling her relax under his hands. Moving up to her soft, round shoulders, he massaged them, helping her release some of the tension of a work week made longer with anticipation.

  But he did not want her too relaxed. Not yet. He let his hand slide down over her breast and smiled at her gasp as he passed lightly over her nipple. Letting his hand continue downward, he felt the small roundness o
f her belly, and lower, the downy hair that covered her mound. She leaned against him and a moan escaped. There was no doubt about her need. Or his.

  And then her stomach growled. Her eyes flew open in embarrassment and he laughed out loud. “Hungry, my slave?”

  “I was too excited to eat lunch, Sir. I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she admitted.

  He tilted his head sideways as he considered. “Good.” He stepped in front of her, standing close. His scent intoxicated her and her head swam a little. “Then let’s make sure you have an excellent appetite, shall we?” Lightly his hands traced over her shoulders and down her arms, one hand settling on her derrière, the other scooping around to steady her back. His kiss was not gentle.

  The ferocity of his unleashed passion took her by surprise and she recoiled. But he held her tightly and crushed her to him. Her own body now responded and she opened her mouth, letting their tongues entwine, her own ardor matching his. A need echoed in her belly, but it was not food she now was hungry for. His hand squeezed her ass and she leaned into him, wanting him, wanting him to feed her pussy with his sex. Having her arms locked behind her frustrated her, increasing her need.

  Roughly he broke from their kiss and with a small growl he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder as if she were no more than a sack of potatoes. She squealed, and tried not to wiggle lest he drop her. In the bedroom, he threw her on the bed, rolling her over and unlocking her cuffs. Rolling her again onto her back, he grabbed her hands and dragged her up the bed, locking her wrists to the headboard.

  Never had she been treated so forcefully. But she wanted him—needed him. All week Sarah had thought of nothing but his command of her. Her body ached for his touch as he practically ripped the clothes from his own body, then pulled her legs apart, locking them into place. Only once she was bound and helpless to stop him did he pause to survey her—spread and ready for his pleasure.

  “I am going to take you like the slave you are. Your body is mine to use—and I intend to use it hard.” His voice was rough and gravelly from his desire and the sound of it thrilled her.

  “This pussy,” he paused to grab her, sinking his fingers inside her and rubbing her juices with his hand, “this pussy is mine, isn’t it, slave?”

  She writhed with the need to come building inside her. When she didn’t answer, he pulled her, several fingers still buried deep inside, his thumb on her mound. “Answer me, slave. Who owns this pussy?”

  “You do,” she gasped. “You do, Sir.” Above her head, her hands clenched as she arched her back, giving herself to him.

  “And what are you?” He pulled on her again and she cried out.

  “I am your slave, Master. My body is yours. I am your Slave!” Her voice cracked on the last word, her breath gone, her mind wanting only to feel him inside her—to have him take her and take her hard.

  Phillip pulled his hand away and knelt between her legs, reaching under to grab her ass, pulling her onto his knees. Positioning his cock, swollen with the desire he had denied himself all week, he saw with satisfaction the gleam of the juices that pooled in her pussy. With a single thrust, he entered her, slamming her body back onto the bed.

  Riding her hard, he thrust in and out, long thrusts, as she rose to meet each one. But he could not hold out for long. As the muscles in her pussy contracted with the first wave of her orgasm, he came and the world ceased turning for them both.

  Wave after wave of powerful contractions shook them, their animal passion spending itself after a week of denial. Feeling him slam into her as if she were nothing but a whore for his use, she came again and again, all thought gone. His cock battered her pussy, his repeated thrusts bruising her tender flesh as she came again, her wordless cries filling the room.

  Her sounds drove him wilder as the animal inside rutted against his slave. All week he had thought about her, wondered if she would return. His heart was lightened when he heard her car in the drive and he used all the control he had watching her taunt him with her striptease. Now that control was gone and as she screamed again and he felt her pussy muscles contract around his cock once again, his own climax came, forceful and violent.

  A small, still-sane part of him knew he was hurting her, but he could not stop. His seed spit forth and filled her as his own groans echoed in his ears. Only when his cock was completely empty did he stop, his momentarily exhausted body collapsing on top of hers.

  As his motions slowed Sarah’s body relaxed and the orgasms lessened, then stopped. Panting, they lay entwined as the intensity of their passion passed.

  Slowly awareness came back to her. His full weight was upon her, and far from feeling suffocated, she relished his warmth. Never had she been so forcefully handled, so forcefully taken. Knowing that his need had been as great as hers made her feel as warm inside as his body made her feel outside. There was comfort and satisfaction in the realization that she could make him lose control.

  He stirred, raising his head to look at her. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” His concern was obvious.

  “Mmmm, you just gave me a most wonderful gift—besides the several orgasms, you showed me a side of you I didn’t know existed. And I’m fine,” she added as the concern in his eyes did not ease.

  With her reassurance, he slid off her and pulled a blanket from the bottom of the bed over the two of them. Raising himself on one elbow, he caressed her face, still nestled between her bound arms. “I have thought of very little this week but you. Last week you showed such a willingness to learn, to please, that I’m afraid I got my hopes up quite a bit for this weekend.” He grinned and she saw a bit of shyness there she’d not expected. “I was afraid you would change your mind and not show up. And then when you were late…” his voice drifted off.

  “I am very sorry about that, Master. I left work on time, but the traffic was particularly bad. I can try a different route next time.”

  He smiled and kissed her forehead. “That’s all right—you take the safest route. I can put up with a little delay, knowing you are on your way.” His hand stroked her breast now, circling the nipple. “Seeing you kneeling so obediently before me, ready to serve me, pushed my control over the edge and I wanted you more than I have ever wanted anything before. Mostly I keep the animal in me caged, to let it out is dangerous. But be assured, I will never hurt you.”

  Sarah suspected he had bruised her, but that had only led to stronger climaxes. By morning, she would be fine and so she said nothing. For the first time she found she wished her wrists were not bound. More than ever, she wanted to put her arms around him and hold him—he looked vulnerable for just the briefest of moments and she knew she’d glimpsed a part of him he showed to no one. A stirring in her heart warned her he was fast becoming more than a mere dalliance—she was falling in love.

  “I know you will not hurt me,” she whispered. Then she grinned with a naughty smile on her face. “Well, at least not hurt me more than I can take!”

  He laughed outright at that and the moment passed. Her stomach growled again, this time answered by his. Laughing, he released her from her bonds and helped her off the bed. Phillip dressed, and Sarah, wearing nothing but her customary ankle and wrist cuffs, accompanied him to the kitchen, from which were coming the most delicious smells.

  She set the table, noticing he’d placed two new candles in the holders. They ate by their light and caught up on the week’s events. It seemed perfectly natural now for her to be sitting in the nude at the table, her cuffs jingling as she ate, while he wore his customary white shirt and dark pants.

  Dinner and dishes done, he led her to the couch, where they snuggled in front of the fireplace, talking through the rest of the evening. By ten o’clock they were both yawning, tired from the day of work, a good meal, and their earlier passion. He took her by the hand, led her to bed, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  * * * * *

  A deep sleeper by nature, Sarah woke to find the sun up long before she was. Ap
parently Phillip had been up and busy as well. She tried to roll off her stomach, only to find her hands tied to the opposite sides of the bed. Her ankles as well were tied, and she could not move.

  “Good morning, slave. You seem to be stuck.”

  She could not see him—he must be somewhere at the foot of the bed. “Yes, Sir,” she answered, sleep leaving in a hurry, replaced by a feeling of vulnerability. She shivered as he sat next to her and ran his hand over her ass. Lulled by his caress, the slap made her gasp.

  “I had a very nice time talking with you last night, slave.” He slapped her ass again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been spanked—her parents hadn’t used that form of discipline very often.

  “It was a wonderful evening, Master.”

  Slap! “Yes, slave. I know you enjoyed it. But mostly it was a conversation between equals and today you must learn your place.” Slap!

  Her cheek was burning where he’d hit it and she knew it must be turning red under his hand. After each spank, his hand rubbed the spot and she was intensely aware of her arousal.

  “What is your place, slave?” Slap! He moved his hand to the other cheek and she was totally unprepared for it.

  “My place?” Her brain thought furiously. “My place is…”

  Slap! “You’re thinking too much, slave. Answer me, where is your place?”

  He spanked her again and her voice tight, she blurted out, “My place is at your side, Master!”

  “Close, slave. Try again.”

  But he hadn’t spanked her. His hand still rubbing her ass, she thought and then answered, “My place is at your feet, Master.”

  “Very good, slave.” She felt him get off the bed. There was the familiar snick as he unlocked her ankles and then she saw him move to her hands, releasing her wrists.

  “Go use the bathroom and do not dawdle.”

  She scampered into the bathroom, her rear end still stinging from his blows. There had been a certain playfulness about them, yet she sensed a deeper seriousness. She could not deny that his use of her this morning aroused her on a very deep level. There was no doubt in her mind that she was the slave and he the master. Quickly she finished and returned to the bedroom, where he sat on the edge of the bed.