Devious Submission
By Marlene Sexton
Copyright Marlene Sexton 2012
Published by Red Heels Press at Kobo
The limousine arrived right on time at my apartment. I was so nervous. I’d been invited to Nathan Remington’s home in the Hamptons. I checked my hair and makeup in the mirror and walked out the door. I was dressed just as he’d requested. White satin garter belt, sheer white, full-fashioned stockings, a silver dress that seemed just a little too tight and matching silver high-heeled sandals. No bra, no panties, no purse or phone. He was very specific, even sending the lingerie, dress and heels to my apartment that afternoon by courier.
I was to be his “date” for the evening, though we weren’t going out. The limo driver didn’t say a word as he drove me to Mr. Remington’s private hanger at the airport. Neither did the pilot of Mr. Remington’s private jet. I felt strange sitting alone in the cabin of the jet as we flew from Philadelphia to Long Island. At the small airport, another limo was waiting and again the driver didn’t utter a word. It was unnerving and I had the feeling they were used to this kind of thing.
After a short drive, we arrived at Mr. Remington’s secluded retreat on the shores of Long Island Sound. He lived in Philadelphia at times to attend to business but this was his home. The guard on duty opened the heavy iron gates and let us in. We proceeded down a long driveway and then rounded a circular drive and parked near the front door of the mansion. Finally, the young driver broke his silence. “Miss, the front door is open. Go inside, take a seat in the parlor to your left and wait there. Good luck,” he said.
Good luck? That made me even more nervous. Mr. Remington had invited me to his penthouse office at his company’s headquarters where I worked a week ago. I’d never met him, but he seemed to know me. I knew he owned Global Communications International, where I worked as a receptionist in the marketing department. I knew he was one of the wealthiest men in America. I also knew he had a penchant for young girls even though he was married.
I had my share of sex, but I usually didn’t do things like this. On the other hand, I wasn’t stupid. A hundred grand was a lot of money for having sex with a man like Mr. Remington but I had ulterior motives for agreeing to his bargain. Sleeping with him could get me more than his generous payment. I could set myself up for life if I played my cards right. If that meant I needed to submit to his twisted desires, so be it. This was too big an opportunity pass up.
I went inside as directed by the driver and took a seat in the parlor. The house was big and reminded me of an old lodge. Suddenly I was keenly aware of how short my dress really was and how deeply the neckline plunged. I was also aware of how excited I’d become. Mr. Remington was in his early fifties, but he was still a sexy man. His short hair with gray on the sides, angular face with a trimmed beard with a streak of gray and athletic body were right up my alley, but it was his power that turned me on.
What girl didn’t dream of making love to a man with real power? It wasn’t just the money. He influenced national politics and international markets. He was the head of a global corporation. He was one of the most powerful men in the world. Not only did the thought of having sex with him turn me on, I planned to turn this to my advantage. I wanted some of what Mr. Remington had.
I grew up lower middle class, but I wanted more. My father had always told me that hard work and perseverance would pay off in the long run. Well, I wasn’t much for hard work or patience. I wanted it all and I wanted it now. I was nervous and excited, but I was lost in my thoughts, going over my plans in my head. If I could stay strong and see this through, it could pay off big.
A beautiful, conservatively dressed woman interrupted my thoughts as she entered the room. She had shoulder length blonde hair curled under and was thin and fit. “So, you’re Nathan’s latest? Not bad, if a little thin. I’m guessing those are real,” she said as she sat opposite me on a matching sofa. Her voice had a hard edge to it.
“Excuse me?” I asked startled by her abruptness.
“Your tits. They’re real aren’t they?” she asked again.
“Yes. Who are you?” I asked.
“Of course, I should have known. I’m Muriel, Nathan’s wife,” the woman told me.
“Oh, I...um...,” I stammered but Mr. Remington saved me.
“Dear, annoying my mistress again?” he said as he walked into the room.
“Just saying hello to the little slut. Nice meeting you, Ms...,” Muriel explained and then paused.
“Wilson. Kimmie Wilson,” I responded.
“Oh, how...quaint. Let me guess. Farm girl looking to find her fortune in the big city? Well, nice meeting you Ms. Wilson. I’m sure my husband will enjoy beating you or whatever it is he does with the whores he brings home. I’ll be upstairs, Nathan,” Muriel said as if just uttering the words disgusted her. I watched her go as she left the room. She was only thirty-seven and very pretty. I felt horrible for her. Why would Mr. Remington do this too her, I wondered.
“Should I have Carl bring you more vodka and valium, dearest?” Mr. Remington asked as she left.
“Fuck you, Nathan!” she responded bitterly from the stairs in the foyer
“Don’t mind her. She’s a drama queen. Anymore we’re husband and wife in name only. I wish things were different but...,” Mr. Remington said to put me at ease and then left his thought hanging. I almost felt bad for Mr. Remington.
“I won’t let it bother me, Mr. Remington,” I answered.
“Call me, Nate. Please. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. He seemed different than I had heard. I’d been told he was a severe man but he seemed charming and friendly, an act no doubt.
“Yes, please, Mr. Rem...I mean Nate,” I answered.
“What’s your poison?”
“I like white wine.”
“White wine it is. While out drinks are on the way, why don’t you slip out of that dress for me,” Nate said.
“Here? Now?” I asked surprised at his request. His wife was upstairs yet he wanted me to undress in the parlor? Modesty aside, I found the request to be rather exciting. Still, I was hesitant.
“Yes. Right here and right now, Kimmie. I don’t like having to ask twice,” he said and I didn’t miss the edge in his voice. He took a seat in the leather chair between the two matching sofas and pushed a button on the black box sitting on the table next to him. I stood and began to slip out of my dress.
“Carl, bring us a glass of sauvignon blanc and a glass of the Laphroaig 25 year scotch. Thank you,” Nate said and a man replied with a curt, “Yes, sir.” I folded the dress and placed it on the back of the sofa, standing all but nude in only the garter belt, stockings and heels. Even though the house was warm, I was shivering. Was that man, Carl, coming here? I was all but naked.
“Sit down and relax, Kimmie. I thought we might sit and talk a bit,” Nate suggested and I did as he asked. I knew his last warning was for real and I didn’t want to cross him again. “Good girl. So, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?” Nathan asked as if this were all perfectly ordinary. I caught a slight condescending tone in his words now that I hadn’t before.
“Well, I was born in Minnesota. I moved to Pennsylvania to attend college and then after graduation I worked a few odd jobs until I found the job I have now,” I said.
“I thought you might be from that area of the country. You have a bit of an accent. Your parents still live there?” Nate asked making small talk. Carl arrived with our drinks. I wanted to cover up, but forced myself to resist the urge. He handed me my wine and I thanked him. He didn’t appear concerned with my nudit
y. He served Nate, took a slight bow and left us. I took a sip of my wine, though I wanted to gulp it down. I felt out of sorts and I wondered if that was Nate’s intention.
“Yes, they still live there,” I answered.
“I bet they’re proud of their little girl. How old are you? Twenty-three? You’ve got a good job and you’re on your own. You know how to take advantage of an opportunity,” Nate said. I wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or not. I don’t think my mom and dad would be proud of me right now. I was going to submit to this man for money. Granted, it was a lot of money, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a whore. It just meant I was an expensive whore.
“I guess they would,” I answered feeling even more unbalanced.
“Lean back for me and spread your legs. My god, you’re beautiful Kimmie. Yes, just like that,” Nate directed. I did as he asked, one foot on the sofa and the other on the floor as I reclined against the padded arm of the sofa. He said I was his type when he propositioned me. He liked women like me, thin but shapely, long dark hair and big breasts. Most of all, I think he enjoyed the idea that I was young and easily manipulated. I hoped he was wrong and I would be able to manipulate him.
“Mmm, beautiful! I love my girls bare down there, but that little strip of hair is sexy. Touch yourself for me,” Nate said and I slipped my free hand between my legs and stroked myself softly. It felt so good and my body erupted in goose bumps. This was nerve-wracking, but I was so aroused. Being nude in the parlor, touching myself for him was so exciting. Even more exciting was doing it all with Muriel just upstairs. It all seemed so dirty.
“Very nice! You’re stunning. Slip a finger inside for me,” Nate said. I did and the urge to furiously pump my finger and climax was hard to deny. He was teasing me. I knew this was just the beginning. Nate didn’t tell me what he had planned, not in any detail anyway. I had heard what he enjoyed, however. I knew he was going to make me submit to him. I’d heard he had a room, downstairs where he took girls like me. I knew he liked to dominate them, but it seemed no one but Nate and his girls knew exactly what happened in there. That both scared and thrilled me.
“Is this what you wanted,” I asked as I slid my wet finger out of myself and ran it over my hardened nub and back through my velvety folds before slipping it back inside.”
“Yes Kimmie. Yes,” Nate said and then he reached down beside his chair and produced handcuffs and leather ankle cuffs. He tossed them on to the sofa. “Put those on,” he ordered. His voice was less gentle than before and it made me shiver.
I removed my hand from between my legs and took the leather cuffs. I locked them around my ankles, careful not to snag my stockings. Then I took the handcuffs and after locking one end around my wrist, I put my hands behind my back and locked the other end around the other wrist. I sat on the edge of the sofa and waited for direction.
“Good girl. Now stand,” he directed. I got to my feet and Nathan retrieved a ball gag, leather collar and a dog leash with a leather strap. He stood and came to me. I suddenly felt so exposed and helpless. He fastened the collar around my neck and then attached the leash. Then he put the bright red ball into my mouth and fastened the leather strap around my head. He smiled smugly. “Come, my pet,” he said and began to walk.
I shuffled along as quickly as I could, the chain between the ankle cuffs making walking in my heels difficult at best. I was terrified. I’d never been bound like this and though I found it exciting, the fear was palpable. I was now truly at Nate’s mercy. Not in the general sense. Of course, this man held my livelihood in his hands and could buy and sell me at will, but now I was at his immediate mercy. He could do anything he wanted with me now. I wondered if I’d made a mistake agreeing to do this.
As we entered the foyer, I looked up and Muriel was standing at the top of the stairs. She watched as Nathan led me to my fate as I looked at her. In that moment I felt a flush of humiliation unlike any I’d ever known. I felt as if she were judging me and maybe she should have been. We entered the elevator and it took us down to the basement. The doors opened and we walked down a dimly lit hallway. I almost fell several times but managed to stay upright, though just barely. Finally, we reached the door that was our destination and Nate ushered me through the door after entering a code into the electronic lock.
It wasn’t what I expected. The room was small and empty save for a simple mattress on a metal frame with a headboard consisting of a hoop of metal tubing with vertical bars. The walls were gray and the floor concrete. I expected an elaborate dungeon but for some reason, this room was more ominous. What you couldn’t see was always more frightening than what you could.
Nate unlocked the handcuffs after closing and locking the door and directed me to lie on the mattress. He pulled leather cuffs from beneath the bed and he buckled them into place before my wrists were bound to the metal frame. Similarly, he chained my ankles to the frame at the foot of the bed. I lay with my arms and legs spread wide, completely vulnerable. Panic threatened to overwhelm me. The fear of the unknown almost took me.
“There, safe and sound, Kimmie. Breath and try to relax,” Nate said obviously sensing my fear. His voice was soothing now and I managed to put my fears aside. Still, I knew one person could dominate another without the aid of whips and chains. I knew that all domination and submission really took place in the mind. If you didn’t believe, it would never work. Nevertheless, I knew a man like Nate could make a woman believe even if she didn’t want to.
Nate ran his hand down my naked body from my neck, between my breasts and down my belly. His touch was electric and sent chills throughout my body. He continued to gently carcass me, purposely avoiding any particularly sensitive spots. I sensed he did this to lull me into a false sense of security. At any moment, Nate might do something amazingly pleasurable or deliciously painful.
Nate, however, continued to stroke me and he soon had me breathing deeply and moaning. He would stop occasionally to undress himself. First, he removed his dress shirt, revealing his athletic torso. Nate placed it on a single nail protruding from the wall. I longed to touch his chest and trace my fingers down his well-defined abs. After a few more moments of his soft touch, he removed his expensive dress shoes and socks. He tucked his socks neatly into each shoe and set them aside. That was followed by yet more teasing. I was sure if Nate kept this up I could almost climax, but he continued to pause so he could undress.
Next, Nate unbuckled his leather belt and unbuttoned his slacks. He stepped from them, folded them neatly and laid them on his shoes. He began touching me again and I watched as his growing erection filled his briefs. I was on the edge of pleasure yet Nate’s slow, soft touch wasn’t quite enough to push me over the edge. I squirmed and writhed within my bonds. How could this man arouse me so with his simple touch?
“Are you enjoying this?” Nate asked and I nodded, unable to respond with the gag in my mouth. “I sense you’re near climax. Would you like to orgasm?” he asked. I nodded again. I desperately wanted to come. “I think you already know that isn’t going to happen, not yet anyway. You’ll be even more desperate to orgasm soon. If I determine you’re worthy of release, you’ll end up begging me to stop,” Nate explained.
It wasn’t the fact he was going to tease me or force me to orgasm until I begged him to stop. It was what Nate said, almost as an afterthought. It was the “if” in his explanation. It was the possibility of not being allowed to orgasm that drove me mad. I could handle the teasing and the forced pleasure but Nate leaving me unfulfilled terrified me. Just the threat was incredibly arousing and frightening, but I knew without release keeping my eye on the prize would be so much more difficult.
Nate slipped his briefs down his legs and when he stood, I saw him in his full glory. He was slightly taller than average, perfectly proportioned and athletic. Women dreamed of men like him, including me. He exuded strength, power and experience, yet he had the body of a man half his age. I suspected he might have the stamina of a young man too. His chest
had a patch of soft greying hair but otherwise he was smooth and tan. I felt myself open for him as I became even more aroused.
Nate climbed onto the bed and straddled my torso. He began caressing me again, but this time he massaged my breasts and played with my nipples. It felt so good but I ached for more. Nate continued, running his hands though my thick, dark hair and caressing my face ever so softly. I began pumping my hips involuntarily but Nate reached back, pressed them to the mattress firmly and shook his head.
“None of that, Kimmie. Lay still or I’ll be forced to take further corrective action,” Nate admonished. I nodded and he resumed his gentle touches. I forced myself to lay still but soon I was lost in Nate’s touches. Suddenly, he took my chin in his hand forcefully and I realized I was bucking my hips again. I was frightened. I knew he was going to punish me, but would this be enough for him to decided I wasn’t worthy of orgasm?
“I told you no. I don’t like having to say things twice,” Nate admonished, his voice hard and icy. He reached back behind himself and spanked my pussy hard. I jumped and squealed, though the gag muffled the noise. Nate did it again, even harder, but left his hand against my bare, wet flesh. I could handle the pain, but having him touch me like that without bringing me off was almost too much to handle. I wanted to move my hips and rub myself against his hand, but I dared not. I knew he was testing me.
“Will you mind me?” Nate asked. I nodded and he pulled his hand away. A part of me wanted to cross him just to feel his hand against me again. However, my desire to obey him was more powerful. I wanted to please Nate and allow him to deny me any real pleasure. I found I wanted to submit. If only he would let me free, I would pleasure him in any manner he desired. God, what was he doing to me? I forced myself to remember why I was here.
Nate moved down and between my legs. His erection inches from my hot, engorged folds. He began caressing my tight belly and sensitive sides, slowly working his way down to my thighs. I felt my skin erupt in goose bumps as I panted and moaned through the gag. Nate’s eyes followed his hands, as did mine. For several minutes, he teased me finding my inner thighs were highly sensitive and focusing on them.
Devious Submission - Episode 1 (An Erotic Thriller) Page 1
