Submission Revealed

by Diana Hunter

  Obediently, Sarah faced away from the cage and backed in. There was just enough room for her to fit on all fours. Phillip reached in and locked her wrists to the corners of the cage, then shut the door and pulled the velvet covering back over the cage. She was enclosed in a world of blue.

  Shifting her weight, Sarah made herself as comfortable as she could. He’d only used a quick-release catch to attach the D rings of her cuffs to the wire sides of the cage but they might as well have been welded on for all the good it did her. She remained on all fours, trying not to wiggle too much and show off her impatience. One thing she had learned, the more eager she was for something to happen, the longer Phillip tended to draw it out. Yes, her arousal would increase but at the moment, she was already so aroused she could have fucked a fencepost. She giggled at the thought. What a bad girl she was becoming!

  Phillip saw the cage vibrate and heard her little giggle. The little minx was enjoying herself? Not for the first time did he send a prayer heavenward to whatever force had put her in his life. After years of failures, to find someone who shared his interests with a passion to rival his own? Life was very good.

  Peeling back the cloth that covered his toy table, as Sarah had taken to calling it, his eye roved over the various implements of sexual torture he kept there. Each one had its own special spot, arranged by type. He knew other Doms who kept everything on a pegboard, each item hanging from its own hook. But he preferred the table with the length of blue cloth that kept the dust off. He liked to keep her guessing about what was underneath. Picking up a slender rod, he held it in both hands, his gaze going from the cage to the cane, wondering if this was what Sarah thought she was ready for.

  Well, there was only one way to find out. He knew she would hate him for what he was about to inflict on her but would she find it as arousing as he did? Or would he be destroying the cane tomorrow based on her response to it today?

  Uncovering the extra long massage table he’d built, he double-checked the eyebolts and ran a hand over the leather as he did before every session. He considered adding a few straps, then decided against it. Her muscles would need room to react—within limits, of course.

  Satisfied that the equipment was safe, he picked up a new gag he’d found and set it at the head of the table, pulled the blue cloth back over the toys behind him and slid the cane under so that just one end peeked out. Only then did he bend down in front of the cage.

  “Slave?”

  “Yes, Master?” Sarah’s voice, muffled by the velvet, came through low and sexy. Phillip grinned.

  “I want to use you, slave.”

  “Yes, Master. Please do.”

  “I might hurt you, slave.” Phillip knew the cane would sting when he struck her ass, giving her the same marks she currently enjoyed on her breasts.

  “Hurt me, Master. Let me feel your touch.”

  There was a definite begging tone in her voice that triggered the animal inside Phillip. His cock stirred in response. Flipping the cover back, he looked his fill at the woman locked inside the cage.

  A lock of golden brown had fallen from her ponytail, hiding one eye from him. Hunger shone from the other as she rocked back and forth on her hands and knees. A low growl came from the back of her throat. Phillip had locked mild-mannered, almost shy Sarah into the cage—the Master would take out a wild slave, her sex fully awakened and ripe for his cane. His eyes hardened in response and his cock came fully erect, straining against the fabric of his pants. This slave needed attention. She would get more than she bargained for.

  Slowly, deliberately, he took his time with the locks, making her wait and increasing her anticipation as well as his own. He didn’t speak to her but kept his eyes locked on hers, letting the hunger build. An extra leash lay beside the cage. He clipped it to her collar and stood, pulling her out roughly. On her hands and knees, she left the cage and followed where he led.

  He held dominion over her and gloried in it. She did as she was told, even as the fires consumed her. He could see it in her eyes. If given choices, she would take charge, pushing him onto the floor and mounting him like the wild animal she was.

  But he had tamed her, taught her. It had been his touch that even allowed her permission to acknowledge the feral being that lived inside her. She owed him her allegiance, her servitude, her body. Bringing their circuitous route to an end at the table, he reached down and grabbed the leash close to the collar, pulling her up and forcing her onto her feet. Her hands reached for him but he was ready. Turning her to face the table, he pushed her down, grabbing her hands and pulling her along the tabletop until her arms were stretched and she was off balance. In seconds, he fastened first one wrist, then the other. She cried out, not in pain but frustration and his smile was wicked.

  Her feet still touched the floor at the side of the table, her body bent and struggling. With a single movement, he scooped her up, laying her legs flat along the length of the table and coming around to fasten them down. Only once she was caught and could not escape did he step back and take a look at his squirming slave.

  More hair had escaped the ponytail to hang about her face, giving her a wild look that fit her. Her slender form, now stretched, showed off muscles he normally didn’t notice, making the curves of her body even more sensuous. He could touch her anywhere and she could do nothing to prevent him.

  She fought now, the animal inside her out of control. He let her rage, knowing that animal could never be in her control because she had given it to him. He held power over it. His touch awakened it. His touch could calm it.

  A single hand on her back. He rested his palm at the base of her spine, quietly asserting command. The effect was almost immediate. She tensed, as if she expected something more. He would give her more. Just not yet. She wasn’t ready yet.

  Slowly, he pushed his hand up along her spine, letting his dominion flow through his palm and into her muscles. Strong muscles, muscles not afraid of hard work. He liked that. She quieted under his hand.

  Her head rested on the leather, her hair covering her face. He gathered it, redoing her ponytail so he could see the light in her eyes. Fear mingled with gratitude and he understood. The feral animal that she could be still scared her, as did the fact that he could control it and that she had given that animal to him.

  Picking up the gag, he held it before her. Dutifully, she opened her mouth and he put it inside. For this, he had chosen a penis-shaped gag, a small one, one that would keep her mouth filled. He would fill her pussy later. After he had striped her ass with his cane.

  She was ready. Her body lay before him like a canvas for his brush. All that remained was for the artist to prepare himself. Stripping off his shirt, Phillip laid it over the cage he would not use again today. He took off his belt and dropped it beside his shirt, leaving his pants on. His erection under control, he liked the way his partially clothed body reinforced his role as Master over his slave’s naked and bound body.

  Pulling the cane from its hiding place, he laid it gently against her skin. Lifting the cane only a little, he bounced it lightly against her butt cheeks.

  When the bounces produced no reaction, he gave a quick, light snap to get her attention. Her head flew up, her eyes wide. That was more like it. He snapped again, careful not to land in the same spot. A thin pink line appeared on the white skin of her ass.

  Phillip tapped the cane lightly all over her upper thighs and the fleshy mounds of her ass, knowing the continuous barrage would sensitize her skin, much as one tenderized a piece of meat. Tapping over and over, he didn’t stop until her body protested, trying to move away from the touch of the cane.

  He ran his palm over her smooth skin, testing the warmth. Too cool and she would need more to get her to the state he wanted. Too warm would mean he’d gone too far. But like Little Bear, her skin was just right. Phillip grinned. His Goldilocks had a lot more courage than the girl in the fairy tale.

  “This is going to sting, slave. Take the pain and direct it to
your pussy. Let it feed your need.”

  Her eyes were shut tight, her mind already working to do as he commanded. To help her along, he ran a finger along her slit, rubbing the white cream already oozing there up to moisten her pussy lips. He heard a bubble of breath blow out from around the penis gag, and knew she was right where he wanted her to be.

  Lifting the cane, he aimed his blow. Once, twice—not hitting her either time but only resting it on the spot he intended to hit. Only when he was satisfied the cane would land straight across her ass did he put force behind it, snapping it hard against her ass.

  She practically leapt off the table. A short cry of surprise, strangled by the gag, turned quickly into fast breaths as he rubbed the spot with the palm of his hand, easing the pain into arousal. He dipped his finger again, arrowing the sensation where he wanted it to go. She didn’t disappoint him. Fresh cream oozed from her pussy.

  The earlier pink marks had already faded into the general pink of her ass. Now one red stripe, bright and angry, swelled and stretched across both ass cheeks. His cock hardened.

  Again he took aim, carefully placing the cane twice to make sure he did not hit the same spot. He also didn’t want the cane to wrap and cause damage to her side. His touch wasn’t perfect, he knew. Not enough practice. But he had studied under good Masters and knew the dangers he had to avoid.

  Thwack! Her head popped up again, the cry less of surprise this time and more of protest against the invasion of pain. “Master it, slave. Put it where it belongs.”

  She listened to his demand, her body attempting to arch and bend as she fought for control. Her hands splayed out, then suddenly clenched into fists as she won the battle.

  One more. Three stripes and he was out. Carefully setting the cane right where he wanted the last mark to go, he lifted and set, lifted and set, making sure his aim would be true. Cutting the air with his blow, he let it smack against her skin no harder, no softer, than the two blows before.

  Again her body arched, again she made that beautiful cry through the gag. Tears formed unbidden in her eyes and Phillip quickly released her ankles and wrists, pulling her body half off the table even as he unsnapped his pants. His cock throbbed at the sounds she made. The stripes across her rear—placed there at his hand—excited him. He needed her…now.

  He knew he was being rough. Grabbing her hands, he pulled them behind her, forcing her to bend over the table. Holding her down with one hand, he tore off his pants and tossed them to the side. His arm brushed the fresh stripes and a soft cry came from the back of her throat as he kicked her legs wide, her whimpers egging him on. The red stripes beckoned and he obliged, rubbing his cock along her slit.

  She was soaked with need. She struggled under his hands, opening for him, wanting him to take her from behind. Aiming his cock, he thrust deep inside her in one strong push. Her body arched and she cried out at the sudden intrusion, her head whipping from side to side even as her body pushed back, wanting him to fill her. Pulling out, he thrust in again, knowing from the way she jerked that he had hit her G-spot. Taking aim, he pulled almost all the way out, then hit it again.

  Sarah screamed and fought as the slut broke the last lock on her cage with a vengeance. Her mind screamed, Fuck me! but the words came out garbled and sounding more like a cry around the gag. Tears streamed down her face at his thrusts, each one pressing his body against her sore ass, the stinging driving her need to come higher with each thrust. The muscles of her pussy tightened around his cock, pulling him in deeper, trying to hold him inside even as he pulled away from her only to slam inside her again, pushing the air out of her lungs and making her gasp for breath.

  She came. Loudly. Her body contracted and she gave in, letting go of all her control, letting her body milk every drop of its beauty. Behind her, Phillip thrust in again, prolonging the sweet agony. His thrusts increased in tempo and she rode them, her body welcoming him, wanting him. She longed to hear his groans as he emptied himself inside her.

  But he wanted more from her. Roughly he pulled her arms, forcing her body to arch as he pounded into her. She was nothing more than a puppet in his hands. She had no power…she was only a vessel for him to fuck. Sarah couldn’t help herself. She came again. An object to be used. The thought echoed in her head as Phillip groaned and came with her, their bodies taken over by the animals they no longer controlled. She howled, an eternal, feral cry that came from the depths of her soul and filled the air. He answered, his growl deep and dark and dominating.

  Together their animals fought, not wanting to give in to civility as passion took her leave and their bodies slowed. The growls grew weaker and contentment stole over them both, leaving their minds numb and their bodies sated.

  Sarah shivered on the table where Phillip had placed her, his cock still buried deep inside her warmth. His animal made a last lunge at freedom and with an oath, Phillip pulled out, turned her around, pulled her close and held her tight.

  Shaking all over, Sarah grabbed on to Phillip’s steadiness. He held her, murmuring soft sounds in her ear. His grip around her, so tight she almost couldn’t breathe, gave her comfort. He wouldn’t let her fall. He would protect her. He accepted her, even if she was ashamed that the pain almost made her come. How could she be such a slut as to like that? In his arms, the wild animal inside her didn’t matter. He loved her and he held her and that was all her world right now.

  How long she clung to him, she didn’t know but her breathing slowed as the pain ebbed into memory. With a final shake, she raised her head to him, wishing she could kiss him. The gag, however, served as another comfort. Something to bite down on, something he had given her to help. Yet when he unfastened it, taking it out and putting it on the table beside her, she didn’t complain.

  “Shall we go to bed?”

  Sarah nodded, not trusting her voice. Snuggling under his arm, she stood, her ass sore and aching, a wonderful memory of a wonderful weekend. And when he removed the heavy collar so she could lie comfortably beside him, she fell asleep in his arms, counting down the days until he would weld a permanent silver collar around her neck.

  Chapter Eight

  The Accident

  Driving down the road like a maniac, Phillip forced himself to calm down before he ended up in an accident, too. His heart pounded in his chest and he had to keep swallowing hard to force down the taste of fear. Pulling up to the stop sign just a mile down the road, he took in details even as he searched for Sarah. She’d called him on her cell phone, barely able to talk. He knew immediately that something was wrong and was halfway out to his car before she managed to tell him she’d been in an accident not too far down the road on her way to work. Why she was calling him and not 911 was beyond him, but he kept his head and got her to hand over the phone to someone else.

  Two cars at odd angles sat in the middle of the intersection and some guy stood in front of him directing the increasing traffic to an alternate route. Phillip parked and ran toward Sarah’s car, ignoring the protests of the makeshift traffic cop.

  Someone had already pulled her out of the wreck. He spared only a glance at the compact car she drove. The driver’s side of the front end was all pushed in and the door hung almost off its hinges. Broken glass littered the area. His heart jumped into his throat and he had to stop and close his eyes, taking a deep breath before rushing over to the figure lying so pathetically on the grass.

  Please let her be alive. He didn’t know what he would do if she weren’t. Kneeling beside her in the cold grass, he took in her condition even as his voice cracked trying to talk to her.

  “Sarah, it’s Phillip. Can you hear me?” A gash in her forehead oozed blood, matting her beautiful hair. The daytime collar she wore, the one he had tied around her neck only half an hour before, had turned a darker shade, colored by the blood that ran down her neck from the gash at her temple. Her left arm lay beside her at an odd angle, totally out of joint at the shoulder.

  “Keep talkin’ to her, buddy. I’ve b
rought a blanket to keep her warm. We need to keep her from goin’ into shock.”

  Phillip didn’t even look at the speaker as he helped to tuck the plaid blanket around her injured arm. “Sarah, look at me. If you hear me, look at me.”

  Slowly her eyes turned and found his face. He read the fear in them. And the pain. Not the kind that aroused, but the kind that terrified. At least, it terrified him.

  But he couldn’t let her see that terror. If there was ever a time she needed him to be strong for her, this was it. Forcing a smile and pulling his shirt out of his pants, he used the tail to wipe at the blood that seeped down her temple. “Keep looking at me, Sarah. Don’t close your eyes.” She probably had a concussion and staying awake was the only first aid he could remember about blows to the head. “Don’t go to sleep on me, Sarah. Stay focused on me. Listen to my voice and know I’m here. You’re going to be all right. I’m here, Sarah.”

  Repeating her name not only helped to keep her focused, it helped him to focus as well. Where were the damn paramedics?

  “Okay, sir, we need you to step aside.”

  A man in a light blue shirt with an insignia on the sleeve knelt beside him. Ask and ye shall receive, Phillip thought, moving aside so the emergency personnel could do their jobs. He circled around to Sarah’s good side, still talking to her. The paramedic nodded. “She’s listening to you. Keep up the patter. Keep her focused on you.”

  Phillip didn’t know what to say anymore and found himself repeating the words he’d already said. He supposed it didn’t really matter what the words were. As long as she could hear his voice and stay conscious.

  Time no longer existed. It both stopped and stretched as he watched the paramedics work to save Sarah, right there on the ground. Not until they finally wheeled her stretcher to the ambulance did he look at his watch. Only ten minutes since he’d pulled up to the accident? Only eighteen minutes since she had called? His life had turned upside down in just over a quarter of an hour. How was that possible?