Her Submission

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Her Submission Page 2

by Vonna Harper


  “What are you doing, slave?” His fingers viced her left shoulder as he spun her toward him. He glared at her trembling hand on the metal links. “How dare you—“

  An apology was on the tip of her tongue but before she could begin to beg for forgiveness, anger overtook her. She’d been through so much! Master had condemned her to a life barely worth living.

  “You don’t own me!” she screamed. Because she couldn’t think how to release the pressure without injuring herself, she continued to grip the nipple clamps. “You can’t do this!” She indicated her abused breasts. “You have no—“

  Growling, he closed a large hand around her throat and propelled her backward until her back slammed into a wall. Terror threatened to overtake her anger while every fiber of her being insisted she fight the big, imposing man, but he’d kill her if she so much as scratched him. His hold on her neck tightened.

  “Hands over your head, slave.”

  No! No, please! Her entire body now shook and she could barely see for the tears. Choices? She didn’t have any. Not if she wanted to breathe again.

  Helpless, she did as he commanded. Instead of letting go, he continued to squeeze her neck until consciousness faded.

  “I understand your actions, slave. You’re an animal and animals are ruled by survival instinct. However, you must find your way past selfishness to total obedience. Otherwise your existence will be a miserable one. Wouldn’t you prefer to be treated like a woman instead of a beast? To experience incredible climaxes in exchange for putting your master’s needs before your own?”

  She couldn’t think let alone answer. Her arms started to slide down. Terrified of how he’d react to her disobedience, she tried to lift them, but she was so weak. Her knees threatened to buckle.

  Chuckling, he released the pressure on her throat so she could suck in a blessed breath. He let her breathe several more times before again cutting off her air supply. This time she lasted only a few seconds before the world greyed and her arms sagged.

  “Put them back over your head, slave. That’s the only thing you have to do.”

  She could! She had to! Otherwise he might kill her.

  The grey darkened. Her head felt as if it was going to explode. She’d beg now, crawl to him on her belly and kiss his feet, anything to please him.

  Once more he granted her the precious gift of air. As she filled her lungs and stretched her arms as high overhead as possible, she waited for the torture to begin again.

  “I wasn’t certain this would turn into another training moment,” he said. “I’m pleased it has. And for the record, I’m relatively satisfied with your self-control. Do you believe you can stay where I put you, slave? If I let you go, you’ll remain where I want my property to be?”

  Property. Flesh and blood belonging to another human being. She nodded as best she could.

  “Wise choice, slut.”

  He gave her throat a squeeze then reached over her head and pulled the length of chain he’d gotten down to her wrist. Because he’d restrained her here and this way before, she knew the chain was attached to a wheel. He hooked the chain to her cuff and then did the same to her other arm. There was enough slack in the chains that she could stand flat footed with her elbows slightly bent. Hot pain raged through her still-imprisoned breasts.

  Master stepped back and studied her.

  “All those years of watching your weight and taking care of yourself and what did you get for it? A master whose present goal is to mold you to his needs and desires.” He came closer. “I’ve decided your momentary rebellion is the best thing that could have happened today. It brought our relationship into sharp relief. You tried to modify the discomfort I imposed on you. It didn’t work. Now I’ll teach you the consequences in ways that wouldn’t have been possible if you’d complied with every order.”

  Another step. He extended a hand, hooked his forefinger around the chain, drew it toward him.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” she babbled. “I didn’t mean—I won’t—please—it won’t happen again.”

  “You can’t promise me that any more than I’d promise not to punish you.” He tugged sharply.

  “Oh, Master, Master please!” Her feet danced and she couldn’t stop her head from thrashing.

  “I have no interest in a slave’s pleas. You should know that by now.”

  He drew down on the chain forcing her to lean over as far as she could. She prayed the clamps would slide off. Instead, they continued to grip. To punish. She was crying openly and promising things that made her hate herself when he let go. Relief poured through her but it was short-lived because he started the rope swinging again. He left her to suffer through the jerking motions. She realized he’d engaged the wheels on the overhead chains so her arms were being pulled straight. He didn’t stop until she was on her toes.

  Again he backed away. This time he folded his arms over his chest as if contemplating something he’d created.

  “I wish I was an artist,” he said. “I’d like to paint you looking like this. At least I have a camera, don’t I?”

  Did he expect an answer? Maybe she should say something about all the pictures of her in various restrained poses that covered the walls outside her cage. She hated seeing them and the memories that went with them but there was so little else to look at.

  He went to the cupboard stocked with things she loathed and feared and took out a digital camera.

  “I’d tell you to smile but something tells me you aren’t in the mood.” He positioned himself to her right and maybe ten feet away then started taking pictures. “Besides, a smile would bely what you’re feeling. Hold still. We don’t want a blurry image, do we?”

  Her breasts ached and burned. Her leg muscles had started protesting, and her arms felt as if they might dislocate. When he’d first take her, she’d begged him not to hurt her, but now she knew better than to say a word. He wanted her to suffer. And she would.

  Whistling, he slowly moved around her immobilized body. The camera made countless clicking sounds as she resigned herself to being immortalized like this for his perverse pleasure.

  That was it. She existed to feed his sadistic nature. Would it ever end and if it did, would she recognize what she’d become?

  “What a sweet, compliant slave. A sexy, sexy woman. Do you miss having clothes? Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that surely someday I’ll give you something to wear so you won’t feel quite so vulnerable. If you have, I strongly suggest you stop those thoughts. A slave is naked. End of discussion.”

  She’d once longed for any scrap of clothing but next to the need to be able to lower her arms and an end to the throbbing in her breasts, that didn’t matter.

  “What do you want, Master? Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Take you in my ass, eat you, fuck with you—“

  “I don’t need your permission for those things to happen, slave. Surely you know that.” He returned the digital to the cupboard and took out something she couldn’t see. It could be a whip , a switch, even a cat-o’-nine-tails. Why hadn’t she tried to overcome him when she had the chance?

  Because his strength far outstripped hers. Because he might kill her if she—

  “When I introduced the nipple clamps,” he said, his voice hypnotic, “my intention was simply to demonstrate my control without destroying you. It was a delicate balance calling for the upmost concentration on my part. You wouldn’t know what was happening or why which was the point. If you thought about it too much or felt your situation was hopeless, I ran the risk of losing you as a functioning human being. Fortunately for both of us, I’m able to walk that thin line. You might believe I’m dissatisfied with you today, but I’m not.”

  He’d slowly ended the space between them during his monologue and was now so close she could feel his body heat.

  “What you probably interpret as disobedience on your part is simply proof that your instincts are intact. A totally obedient slave, one who doesn’t have the will to try to protect hers
elf, is a broken creature. I want you on the edge, to have to constantly battle your instinct for survival.”

  Was that a compliment? Hard as she tried, she couldn’t think for her dread and pain.

  “Many masters, probably the majority of them, would disagree with me. To them it’s all about control and subservience. If their slave blindly obeys their every command and anticipates their every need, they believe they’ve done their job.”

  Once again his knuckles pressed against the side of her neck. Once more she willed herself not to move.

  “I want more than a pussy. I want a mind as well. At least part of one.”

  She dimly comprehended that he was giving her a glimpse into the rest of her life but could she accept it? Had she given up that much of herself?

  “I’m waiting for a response, slave. Until now I haven’t given you the option of willingly serving me. Do you believe you’re capable? Are you enough of a woman?”

  He’d never called her a woman. To him she was a slave, animal, or slut.

  “I don’t know, Master.”

  “Perhaps not. Today I’m going to introduce you to a side of yourself I suspect you’re unaware of. The creature who exists beneath the civilized façade.”

  Don’t, please!

  Before she could decide whether she dared speak, he ran his hand between her legs, pushing against her inner thighs as he did. She obediently widened her stance. The sensation in her breasts had settled into a constant throbbing while her upstretched arms became more and more uncomfortable. He wouldn’t care. He had her where he wanted her.

  “Pleasure and pain. Ecstasy and agony. Two sides of one coin.”

  Something cold pressed against her pussy, but even if she wanted to escape which suddenly she no longer did, she couldn’t. “Master?” she whispered.

  “That’s right, Master.” The pressure continued. “I own you in every way there is for one person to own another. Fortunately for you, occasionally I’m compassionate and understanding.” He chuckled. “However, as we both know, I’m not known for my consistency, nor would I want to be. It works to my advantage to keep you in a state of uncertainty. As long as you don’t know what to expect from me, you’ll never get a step ahead of me or even be my equal. I’m in control. Always in control.”

  He often heaped his brand of logic on her. No matter how crazy it sounded, she tried to make sense of what he was saying. At the same time she was certain he said what he did, not in order to educate her but to keep her off balance. She wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make. As long as something rested at her pussy’s entrance, she couldn’t put her full mind to words.

  “You please me sometimes,” he continued. “Enough that occasionally I choose to reward you.”

  Reward, yes! She knew what that meant.

  Panting in anticipation, she thrust her pelvis at him, opening herself to him even more as she did. “Master, I want—you know I try to please you.”

  He slapped her right breast. “Be quiet! If I want to hear from you, I’ll let you know.”

  Trapped in a fresh pain-storm, she fought to remain silent. She couldn’t prevent a whimper from escaping but then he enjoyed hearing that.

  “Settle down.” His voice was calm now. “Go deep inside yourself. Anticipate. Prepare.”

  Her breast still pounded, but she did her best to calm. She didn’t exist beyond this place. Every aspect of her being revolved around this powerful man.

  He leaned into her so their faces were only inches apart. Trembling, she looked up at him as he ran his free hand into her hair. He sometimes talked about shaving it off because it was so messy, but she didn’t think he would because he could easily control her by grabbing it. She wasn’t surprised when he tilted her head back, just unnerved because she could no longer see his expression.

  “I’m going to use a vibrator on you,” he whispered. He pressed himself against her trapped breasts. “The most powerful one in my arsenal.”

  She all but hung in her restraints as her world closed down even more. Only her captive body remained.

  “Dance for me, my pet. Thank me for giving you what you want most.”

  The vibrator slipped past her sex lips and into her already wet channel. It felt larger around than the last he’d invaded her with. Unlike the other with its rubber tip, this one was all metal. There was nothing soft about it, just a manmade instrument designed to arouse and break her down.

  He took his time settling it into her, rotating it back and forth as he did. It went deeper and deeper, spreading her pussy walls until anticipation turned into dread. Her body wasn’t designed to be expanded like this!

  “Feel as if you’re giving birth to a watermelon?” He chuckled and shoved. With her head back and immobile, she could barely breathe let alone try to accommodate the invasion. Her sex was being stretched beyond all reason. If he used it to attack her like the nipple clamps did—

  “Master! Ah, please.”

  “Hey!” He jerked on her hair. “What did I say about keeping your yap shut? You don’t want me to gag you, do you?”

  She hated being silenced. As long as she had the ability to speak, she held out the slim hope that he’d heed her pleas. “No, Master,” she whispered. Another appeal for mercy pushed against her teeth, but she held it in.

  “I understand. I truly do. There’s no denying that this tool is larger than any man’s cock, but your sex is designed to be flexible. The manufacturer assures purchasers that no woman has been injured while using it. Of course—“ He chuckled again. “You aren’t administering it to yourself. That’s my task.”

  As long as he was talking, hopefully he’d simply hold onto the vibrator but maybe he’d said all he intended to. She hated being handled as if he owned her body, but what choice did she have?

  None.

  She tried to relax her muscles and empty her mind, but he was too close and all-consuming. She felt as if she was sinking into him, losing what little remained of herself at the same time. Much as she needed back what she’d lost, she took small comfort in knowing he hadn’t injured her. Yes, she bore the whip marks he’d planted on her, but he hadn’t broken any bones. He could have suffocated her a few minutes ago. He hadn’t because he wanted her alive.

  Alive. Breathing.

  Waiting.

  After what felt like forever and not long enough, the massive invader started vibrating. It barely hummed, a gentle sensation that made it possible for her to dismiss much of her discomfort.

  “I tried this on my cock,” he said. “Quite pleasurable at the lower speeds. Then it became a bit much. Don’t worry, slave, I’m not going to rob you of the opportunity to determine whether I got my money’s worth. For the record, the batteries are new. All right, next gear.”

  Power jolted her. In seconds she stopped simply trying to accept and sank into forced pleasure. She hadn’t been a particularly sensual woman before Master captured her but under what he called his tutelage, her body was becoming more and more receptive to stimulation. These days he could make her juices flow simply by touching her. A few times, even as she acknowledged how vulnerable it made her, she’d thanked him for his gift. When she did, he smiled. Smiled and turned her into a horny animal.

  She was there now. A panting, moaning creature drowning in sensation. Whatever gear he’d shifted into was everything her helpless body needed. A climax hovered just out of reach. Pleasure licked at her every cell. She was content to hang here, to float, to sigh and tighten her sex muscles around the potent tool.

  “Time to get to work, slave. Dance for me.”

  Warned by his taunting tone, she held her breath. Instead of an accelerated attack on her pussy, however, the vibrator abruptly quit moving. Her drenched inner walls repeatedly squeezed the tool. Then to her horror, her body began to settle down. With each passing second, she felt the loss of arousal and growing discomfort. Warned by his all-encompassing presence, she knew not to ask what he intended to do.

  Suddenly
the tool stormed back to life. This time there was no measured build-up. Instead it went from nothing to everything. Pounded at her. Challenged her to survive.

  She climaxed, pleasure and fierce throbbing all mixing together. Continuing. Forcing her up a mountain and holding her there.

  “I can’t, I can’t, oh god, Master! Master!”

  “Dance for me, slave. Who rules you? Who is in charge?”

  Fire charged through her. She short-circuited. Died and came back to life. Died again.

  Something dark and powerful shook her into consciousness, but she was too exhausted to do anything except moan as what had begun as pleasure continued to tear her apart.

  “Do you surrender, slave?”

  She couldn’t answer.

  Couldn’t think.

  Chapter Two

  “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re alive and that’s what counts.”

  “Yes, I’m alive.”

  Five minutes ago Kaci Winters had nearly gone about her business without talking to the man with the flat tire, but it wasn’t as if they didn’t know each other. After all they’d chatted for a whole half minute earlier in the day. When, just now, she noticed he was having trouble kneeling she’d decided that offering to help was preferable to replenishing the toilet paper in the men’s restroom at Pause Awhile Campground. She’d reminded him of their connection, then taken the lug wrench from him. Once the nuts were loose, she’d positioned the jack under the car in preparation for lifting it. That’s when he’d taken over.

  She hadn’t come out and asked what his mobility problem was but she had stared. That was probably why he’d mentioned he’d been in a motorcycle accident. When she expressed sympathy, he’d shrugged. Instead of dropping what was none of her business, she asked the thirty-something stranger with big hands, broad shoulders, and intense grey eyes when he’d had his accident.

  “Three months ago.” He paused while returning her gaze. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?”

 

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