First Submission
It had started a few days ago, late in the evening as they'd lain in
bed, sated from the evening's play. They had toyed many times with bondage,
pain, and games of dominance and submission, and enjoyed every time. He loved
the feeling of power over her he always had during their scenes, and the way he
could use her to fulfill any fantasy; she, in turn, liked to be dominated.
But she still had a difficult time submitting to him, most of the time.
She often struggled against him, and as fun as that could be, it didn't give
either of them the level of satisfaction that her willing submission would have.
They'd tried using slave contracts of different types, giving him more or less
power over her, but she still struggled, and eventually they both realized it
wasn't helping any.
Until that evening, as they laid there talking after their exertions.
The conversation had gone on for a long time, different arguments and
explanations for her difficulty submitting, but the upshot of it all was that
she finally understood what her problem was: that she was still a little bit
ashamed of how much she was turned on by being controlled and dominated, so she
fought against it.
In the end, she had made the decision not to be ashamed any longer.
This, in turn, meant that she would no longer fight her husband, unless he asked
it of her or she was honestly in a mood to make him force his dominance.
This evening is the first time they have played since their
conversation, and they are both eager. She is a little nervous as well, but the
decision to submit has already been made. He, knowing that this will be the
first time he will have her total and unconditional submission, has decided that
he will toy with her, making it a difficult submission (at least according to
what he knows of her preferences and desires) to see how far she will go.
They are in their 'play room', as they call it. The room is large, and
soundproofed, for obvious reasons. Centered along one wall, extending out into
the room, is a king-size bed, covered with black satin sheets and dark red
velvet pillows. The dark mahogany headboard has several bolts screwed into it,
to be used as places to tie someone down to.
Along the other stone walls are other types of restraints: an x-shaped
whipping cross stands against one wall, suspension harnesses and tracks in the
ceiling decorate another wall, and the fourth wall simply has bolts like the
ones on the headboard anchored in it in all kinds of positions. An armoire
stands in a corner, home to their smaller toys. Inside it are a dozen different
types and sizes of whips, a half-dozen clamps of varying size and tension,
blindfolds, gags, several different collars, wrist cuffs, and leashes, and a
selection of needles, knives, and razor blades.
In the only open floor area, in front of and to one side of the bed,
there is a stone-block table of sorts, standing about waist-height, with straps
attached, in case he needs a more solid surface than the bed to tie his wife
down on.
She has already stripped naked, by her Master's order, and wears only a
black leather collar with a steel ring in the front and a pair of matching wrist
cuffs. All three of the binding devices are tightened almost painfully tight,
so that it is hard for her to move her hands and her breath comes with
difficulty. Of course, that is intentional; a deliberate move on her Master's
part to inhibit her ability to resist, even if she wants to.
Her Master stands in front of her, wearing a pair of black jeans and
nothing else. His blue-green eyes glitter with thinly veiled cruelty, and
pleasure at how he has her. She stands perfectly still as he paces around her,
because he has ordered her to. He walks around behind her and, without warning,
grabs her wrists and wrenches her arms back, taking a small steel ring, hinged
and open on one side, threading it through the rings on both wristlets, and
locking it shut, effectively binding her hands behind her. He releases her
bound wrists and walks back around to stand in front of her again, noticing the
uncertainty in her eyes.
"On your knees," he commands. Without hesitation, she obeys, dropping
to kneel before him, head bowed in abject submission, as he had explained the
position to her earlier.
Her Master smiles his pleasure at her response, then reaches down and
takes a handful of her long hair, yanking her head back so that she is forced to
stare up at him. Her breath comes shorter as she sees his expression of cruel,
dominant pleasure, and she knows her fear will please him even further.
"Good girl," he murmurs, stroking his other hand down the side of her
face. "I think I like this," he adds. "I like seeing you so helpless,
so...vulnerable." His hand slides down to her throat, and he tugs at her hair,
forcing her head back even farther to fully expose the soft skin. She trembles
at his touch, so casual and yet so menacing, as he knew she would. She has
always responded with fear and vulnerability when he toys with her throat.
He laughs softly, sending a shiver through her whole body. Because he
knows she is defenseless, and afraid because of it, he decides to make a point
out of showing her exactly how defenseless she is. He continues to draw her
head back until her whole body is arched backwards, until she trembles with the
strain of the position, until she feels like her neck will snap if he forces her
back any more. He bends over her, his free hand roaming over her naked flesh at
will, and whispers to her, "You belong to me now; you know that, don't you? You
haven't signed a contract, this time, and you haven't sworn obedience to
me-yet-" he adds ominously, "but you are mine, and you know it. You are
vulnerable and defenseless against me. I can do anything I want to you,
anything at all, and you can't stop me."
He draws back a little, smiling as he looks down at her. Tears well in
her eyes as she stares up at him; tears of fear, of pain as well, since he has
her drawn back so far and all...but behind the tears, he can see desire rising
as well. He has her now, and he knows it as well as she does, even better
perhaps, because she doesn't understand what has made her so completely
obedient, so desperate to please, and he does understand. All she knows is that
she cannot resist her Master; not because she has decided to obey, but because,
even as she thinks of resisting out of fear, her body betrays her into
obedience, following his commands before she has a chance to think about it or
decide to do otherwise.
Her Master grins, slowly drawing her back up to kneel once more at his
feet. With a final caress, his hands leave her body. She kneels before him,
swaying slightly, feeling weak and dizzy, waiting for his next command.
He watches her as his hands go to the waist of his jeans. He undoes his
pants slowly, still watching his slave as he pushes the jeans low on his hips,
letting his manhood spring free. Once more, his hand grasps her hair, pressing
against the back of her head.
"Please me, slave," he orders. And before she has a chance to think, to
remember how much she normally dislikes giving oral pleasure, she has obeyed,
her body betraying her again.
She takes him into her mouth, sliding her tongue down the length of him,
and he presses against the back of her head, forcing himself through her mouth
and into her throat. Normally, she would pull back against the pressure of his
hands, resisting his prompting...but she can't. She finds herself taking him in
eagerly, moving her mouth on him in all the ways she knows he enjoys, seeking
his pleasure without thought for her own preferences.
He keeps her serving him for some time; how long, neither of them knows
or cares. For his part, he has made sure he has nowhere to be in the morning,
and for her part she is only interested in her Master's pleasure, disregarding
all else. He debates coming in her mouth, making her take that as well, and
decides not to. There are too many other things he wants to do to her to waste
time getting to that point. So, slightly regretfully, he withdraws from her
mouth.
He stands for a moment, looking down on her as she continues to kneel at
his feet, looking up at him. "Stand up," he orders harshly. As soon as she
does, he spins her around and removes the connecting ring holding her wrists
together behind her back so that her hands fall to her sides. Before she has a
chance to massage her half-numb fingers, he spins her back around and shoves her
so she falls backwards onto the bed. Gasping with shock, she tries to catch her
breath, but he pushes her again, ordering her to lie down in the center of the
bed.
She hastens to obey, rigid with fear and yet eager to do his bidding.
He has her stretch her arms out to the sides and above her head, then ties her
wristlets to two of the bolts in the headboard so that she is forced to lie
spread-eagled. He stands, then, and walks over to the armoire that holds their
other toys, coming back with a black velvet blindfold.
He bids her to raise her head, so he can put the blindfold on her.
Noticing the look of terror on her face, he decides he has chosen well, in
choosing to blindfold her. Of all the things they've done, one of the things
that always bothered her the most, frightened her the most, was being unable to
see. Even knowing that she has made the commitment to submit to him, he
wonders if her submission is strong enough that she will willingly let him bind
her eyes.
And yet, despite the fear in her eyes, she lifts her head and allows her
Master to blindfold her. After he ties the heavy folds of velvet across her
face, he returns to the armoire for the other toys he wanted to get, but didn't
want her to see.
First he pulls out a set of clamps, small but strong, with a row of tiny
teeth along the edges. The teeth aren't sharp, but they will add to the pain a
little, which is all he wants right now. After the clamps, he selects a
flogger, soft deerskin, but with eight or nine thongs-definitely enough to cause
a fair amount of pain. And finally, he picks out two needles and a razor blade,
and carries the whole stash back over to the bed where his slave waits, bound,
blindfolded, and helplessly awaiting his pleasure.
He stands over her for a moment, watching her swift, shallow gasping for
breath, relishing her fright. Setting the various accoutrements he had chosen
down on the bedside table, he picks up the flogger and, without warning, brings
it cracking down across the soft skin of her parted thighs. She cries out, her
body arching, struggling helplessly against her bonds, tossing her head from
side to side as if trying to throw off her blindfold. With a cruel laugh he
brings the flogger down again, this time across her stomach and breasts, leaving
welts across her nipples.
Leaving her tense and expecting another blow, he lays the flogger down
and picks up the clamps. She starts as he grasps one already-painful nipple and
affixes the clamp onto the very tip of it, then does the same to the other.
With the clamps only on the tips of her nipples, it hurts twice as much as it
would have, had he set them on more fully. She makes a soft whimpering noise
deep in her throat, but refuses to plead with him, even to stop the pain.
He pauses and watches her for a moment or two, waiting for her to at
least ask him to remove the clamps. But she stays silent, even as tears begin
to wet her blindfold. Trying to goad her into begging, he leans over her and
flicks at one pinched nipple, grinning at the gasp it provokes. He does it
again, is rewarded with a moan, then grabs both clamps and twists hard, and is
gratified by the choked scream she cannot hold in.
"Too much?" he asks, flicking both clamps one more time.
She gasps again, whimpering in pain, and struggles to speak past the
chokehold her collar has on her. "Master..." she manages to force out, but
cannot say more.
"Too much?" he asks again, determined to force a response.
"Whatever...you want, Master," his slave whispers.
He draws back a little, startled. "So it's up to me to decide how much
is too much for you, huh?" he asks, slightly surprised at that. He hadn't
though she would submit that far, but it seems she has.
He leans close again, delicately licking at one nipple where the clamp
pinches it. "Then no. This is not too much."
An idea strikes him suddenly, and he remembers the needles lying on the
nightstand. He turns and takes one, then turns back and, using the clamp, draws
her nipple up so that it is stretched up. She clenches her jaw against the moan
of agony that rises, but cannot stifle it completely. He places the tip of the
needle against the taut-stretched skin, ready to push it through, and pauses.
"Do you remember," he asks, "how we talked about getting your nipples
pierced?" And without waiting for a response, he slides the needle in. Slowly
enough that she can feel every instant of the steel parting her flesh, yet quick
enough that by the time she catches her breath to cry out it is done, and he has
released both clamp and needle.
He stands over her a moment, watching her chest heave with the effort of
her breathing, then goes around to her other side to repeat the process. By the
time he is done, she lies trembling with agony and fear both, unsure of what he
will do next.
"Too much?" he asks for a third time. And this time, he is rewarded.
"Yes," she breathes.
Her Master smiles, regarding his slave. "Then no more pain. But I'm
not done with you yet," he adds as he removes his pants entirely, tossing them
aside.
"Please," his slave whimpers.
He turns back, shocked. "What?" he asks.
"Please, Master. I beg you, please..." she gasps.
"What do you want?" he murmurs, climbing onto the bed with her.
"Take me," she begs. "Please, Master..."
A slow grin spreads across his face. To think that she is begging him
for exactly what he had planned to do to her anyway, whether she wanted it or
not! He reaches out and tenderly caresses his slave's face, gently stroking her
collared throat just to see her gasp at the reminder of her vulnerability.
"I think you've been a good enough slave that I can give you that," he
replies, then without further words sheathes himself in her.
She cries out then, at the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure; the
pain of her newly pierced nipples, still caught in the clamps, and the
whip-weals across her thighs as her Master's body is rubbing hard against her;
the pleasure of being taken like this, bound and helpless with her Master
thrusting himself so forcefully into her.
Afterwards, he unties her blindfold, watching as she blinks in the dim
light, then removes the clamps and sets them and the blindfold aside. The
needles he leaves where they are; they'll have to stay there until he can buy
rings to go in those spots, because he is not going to let those new piercings
close over. Finally, he unties her hands and removes the wrist cuffs and
collar, only to discover that she can't really move her hands, and that her
shoulders are stiff from being wrenched up and out like they have been.
Infinitely gentle now that their play is over, he carefully moves her
arms until they regain some measure of movement. As soon as she can move a
little, he sits beside her and takes her into his arms, cradling his wife as if
she were made of glass, working at her hands until the blood moves into them.
Her voice is still slightly hoarse, and will likely stay that way for a day or
so, from the collar's constriction.
Her body still sore, especially at her nipples and the whip-wounds
across her thighs and belly, she relaxes into her husband's embrace, trusting
herself to his care. He is always unfailingly tender with her after their play,
making sure he hasn't done any real damage to her, and tending to those injuries
which he has dealt to her in the course of a scene.
He kisses her softly, this time treating her as his equal, as his wife
rather than as his slave.
"So what do you think of this willing submission thing?" she asks him
between kisses.
He pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance and thinking, then
returns his gaze to her. "I loved it, of course. I think I was a little bit
rough on you this time, but...I wanted to see how far you would go."
She laughs. "I know that. Why do you think I was willing to go so
far?" she sobers, though, after a moment. "Though I think I would have gone
just as far even if you weren't testing me. I promised you submission; you'll
get it."
He smiles again, this time a true and loving smile, without any hint of
cruelty whatsoever.
And as he lowers his lips to hers again, he breathes a last two words
for that night.
"Thank you."
