4 comments/ 10359 views/ 1 favorites Lessons in Submission Ch. 01 By: His_lilone Glancing at the clock on my desk, I realize it is past time to head home. I gratefully rise from my desk, gather my things and start down the hall, my heels creating a powerful staccato that bounces off the walls, my head held high and straight. People seem to naturally step to the side to allow me to pass. I'm really not a "hard-nosed bitch", as some have said, but I have to know what I'm doing and do it well. I feel the tightness and tension between my shoulder blades, working its way up the back of my neck. I hope I don't end up with another tension headache. I'm starting to think I live my life on antacids and pain killers. I make it across the parking lot and to my car, slip into the driver's seat, crank the air conditioning up and look around. There is nobody around or watching so I pull the pins from my hair and allow myself to slump across the steering wheel. Just five minutes of decompressing is all I need before I attempt the drive home. I doubt any of my colleagues would even recognize me right now. The ramrod straight back, serious face and tight smile are gone and left in its place is a weak woman right on the verge of exhaustion and tears. A few deep breaths and I collect myself and begin the short drive home. Pulling into my designated parking space, I moan to myself. My best friend, Anna, is here and, while usually I love to see her, I've had the week from hell and just want a glass of wine and a bubble bath. I enter my apartment and smile at how well she knows me, my glass of wine is sitting on the kitchen counter just waiting for me. I grab my wine and join her on the balcony to see what the heck is going on. Anna smiles innocently at me... and I know she's up to something. "What?!" I demand impatiently. "You've forgotten, haven't you?" she replies. I think hard and then remember... oh no, not tonight. Stupid blind dates, I hate them but this one has been planned for a while and I can't let her down after all the times she's stood by me. I grumble and head towards the bathroom, making snide comments about intruding friends and how if this date doesn't work out she's going to pay dearly. She just laughs and begins to lay clothes out on the bed for me. I notice she's laid out my black, sheer teddy trimmed in red satin ribbon and immediately go into "No way" mode. She just laughs and says "oh yes, I am certain you'll be happy for it later tonight". Rolling my eyes I give up and head on to my shower. I don't have the strength to argue anymore today and just because I'm wearing it doesn't mean I have to show it to anyone. The truth is that it makes me feel girly and pretty so why the hell shouldn't I wear it? The steamy water seems to be relaxing me, or maybe I'm just too tired to fight the force of nature that is Anna. I step gingerly out of the shower and begin grilling Anna about this oh-so-perfect mystery man. If he's so perfect then why is he going on a blind date with me, of all people? Anna seems uncharacteristically closed mouth about my blind date but does take the time to flip her phone around to show me a picture of him. Oh heavens, is he yummy. I'm now absolutely certain she's neither told him much about me nor shown him a photo of yours truly. I'm starting to get very nervous. I wish I hadn't seen Mr. Yummy at all and then I could've just been happy with basic makeup and shrugged it off as just a blind date. But Mr. Yummy was, well, Yummy and I find that I want him... really want him! The thought makes me squirm a little and I chide myself for being ridiculous. I have a firm rule that I never have sex with a guy on the first date, but then again, I have never gotten all juicy and hot over a stupid cell phone photo either. This could prove to be an interesting night. I take a little more care with my appearance, carefully outlining my full lips in ruby red then allowing Anna to do that makeup magic that makes my eyes look all smoky and mysterious. I slip into the sinfully sexy teddy and then a little black dress, thigh high silk stockings and black stiletto heels. Anna stands back and, after telling me to turn around a few times, declares me ready. She gathers her things and begins to leave, telling me that he will be there any minute to pick me up but refusing to tell me where he plans to take me. As the door clicks closed behind her I suddenly feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. Oh heavens, what have I gotten myself into now? I barely have time to acknowledge the nervous twist of my stomach before there is a knock on the door. I open it to Mr. Yummy, a sweaty Mr. Yummy in workout clothes? Really? He brushes past me and heads straight for the bathroom, apologizing along the way that he didn't have time to shower before leaving the gym. After the shock of this strange man just barreling through my door begins to fade, I slip into indignant mode. "Excuse me," I say in my haughtiest tone, "Just WHO do you think you are?!" Mr. Yummy pauses at the bathroom door and turns around slowly and gives me a head to toe once over before asking "Weren't you expecting me?" "Well, yes," I reply. "So Anna did tell you I was coming?" He asks. "Well, yes," I again reply. Then Mr. Yummy proceeds to walk back to me and gets very close to me before saying in a voice so calm and quiet I find myself leaning towards him to better hear, "Then I believe I'm the man that has been asked to remove the rod you seem to have shoved up your ass. Now, I'm going to go take my shower and you're going to sit right there on the end of your sofa and wait for me quietly. Do I make myself clear?" You would think someone like me would have a witty comeback or simply punch the man in the face but I did neither. To my own mortification, I simply nodded yes and then went to sit down as I was told. I have no idea why I did it, and by the time he came out of the bathroom I was still pondering the situation. At least I was past the point of opening and closing my mouth like a guppy while I gasped for breath. I am still not sure if it was a panic attack or sheer excitement. Nobody EVER spoke to me that way before, certainly not some complete stranger! He walks towards me again and I quickly take in the way his wet hair is curling at the collar of his shirt and think how he smells like me now. Well, like my soap and shampoo anyway. I emit a nervous little laugh at that thought and get a very interesting look from him. He lifts his hand and brushes his thumb across the little indention on my forehead that always appears when I'm concentrating too hard on something. "Relax," he commands in that honeyed voice. I smile shyly up at him and again wonder at my behavior. He holds his hand out to me and I take it softly and am rewarded with a small lift of his lips in a smile that can only describe as a cat that caught the canary. Mr. Yummy then begins to talk to me, telling me how he had a nice evening out planned but after meeting me he has decided that the time would be better spent at the house. He lets me in on the secret that my friends have set this up because, as much as they love me, my need for constant control and command of all situations is wearing their patience thin. This information stings, but I know in my heart it's the truth. Mr. Yummy continues to tell me that he is going to teach me how to let go of control and release my inner desires and dreams, to scream my needs out loud instead of locking them inside and hiding them back from even myself. I look steadily at him and my eyes must be big as saucers as he continues by telling me that this is a lesson. We will not become lovers, we may fuck but we will never be lovers, and the lessons may continue until we are both satisfied that I have learned the lesson sufficiently. He states that I will not be able to contact him at this point and that he will keep tabs on me in his own way and will be there to give me a lesson when it is most needed. I am just absorbing it all until he asks if I am able to agree to his terms, then I stammer my reply, "I don't know, how are you going to teach me these 'lessons'?" Ha! There it is! I knew I had a voice! "Well," he replies, "you will have to just trust that I know what I'm doing. Remember, this is all coming about because you think you must control everything. Now, do you agree to my terms?" There it was again, this person who is me but refuses to act like me replies, "Yes, Mr. Yummy, I'll agree to your terms." Oh NO! I did NOT just call him Mr. Yummy out loud? Hearing his small chuckle I know for certain that I did. He then tells me that "Sir" is how I will address him from this point on. I'm too mortified to do more than nod. He reaches up and thumps the indention on my forehead and says in a firm voice, "stop frowning and the proper response is Yes, Sir. I cannot hear rocks rattle, girl." I tremble slightly and let out a timid, "Yes, Sir." He draws his hand down to my neck, resting it lightly there as his thumb brushes against my skin softly and gives me my first "good girl", I practically purr for him. Oh my, I am sunk. I am already realizing I would follow this man anywhere he wished to lead me. And lead he does... straight into the bedroom. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think I should be resisting, but I'm too intrigued by this man and too anxious to see what sort of lesson he may have to teach me. He begins to make his demands, "Turn around, hands on the back of your head, legs shoulder width apart." I acquiesce without comment; I just can't seem to help myself. I feel his fingers brush my skin as he lowers the zipper down the back of my dress. I shiver and every pore of my skin seems to respond to that slight touch. He pushes my hands down to my side and slides the dress off my shoulders. I can feel the graze of his thumbs against my ribcage as he peels the dress down my body. The feel of them through the thin teddy adds to my excitement. Then my dress is puddled around my spread ankles. I stand perfectly still, nearly holding my breath in anticipation of his next touch. But instead I feel something slightly cold, hard yet soft, clasped around my neck. It takes a minute to register, and then I realize a thick leather collar has been wrapped around my neck and only react when I hear the click of a leash being attached. "I am not a damn dog!" I gasp angrily. He wraps his hand tightly around my neck, squeezing gently and pulling me back against his hard body until I am immobile. I feel his breath graze my ear as he says, in that calm quiet voice, "You are what I say you are. You will be whatever I desire you to be. Understand?" I gasp out a squeaky and timid, "Yes, Sir." What else could I possibly do? The feeling of my juices dripping slowly down my thighs would've answered for me anyway. He releases the pressure on my neck and uses the leash to lead me across to the bed. "Lesson one," he says, "from this point on, you belong to me. When I require it, you will present yourself for inspection by me in the appropriate manner." He then pulls the leash and walks around the bed, steadily pulling my upper body across. I listen intently as he gives more instructions. "Get on the bed, spread your knees shoulder width, place your face on the bed and keep your ass in the air." I follow the orders, knowing full well he will immediately see the soaked crotch of my delicate teddy. I blush a little but keep my face pressed against the bed, again desperately waiting to feel his touch again. It finally comes, the gentle slide of the palms of his hands along my spine, sliding down my back from my neck, over the dip of my waist and the swell of my hips. I feel myself relax, my body submitting to this man, this virtual stranger. He speaks to me like no one ever has before, and yet I not only respond, I crave it. His hands continue their gentle torment, grazing the lips of my pussy through the teddy, sliding down the insides of my thighs, then reversing the journey. I have never felt so exposed, nor so proud. This man is enjoying my body, touching it the way he wishes, laying claim to it. Who knew giving over such control could feel so good. There is a pull and a quick ripping sound as he shreds the thin crotch of my teddy, and, before that even registers in my mind, I feel his fingers plunge into my wetness. I gasp, and then nearly scream in frustration as he removes his fingers from me completely. Again, I am lost without his touch. "Do you feel how wet you are for me, girl?" He asks. "When you think of me, when you hear my voice, when you receive a message from me, you will be this wet. Do you understand, girl?" I manage to mumble another, "Yes, Sir" through the trembling betrayal of my own body. And then there is silence, I wait quietly, slowing my own breathing down as I strain to hear his next command, his next words. But all I hear is the click of the door as it closes behind him. I lie there quietly in confusion, until I hear the ping of my cell and the text message from a blocked number...."Lesson one, successful." I feel a fresh wave of dampness on my thighs and smile to myself, indeed it was. Lessons in Submission Ch. 02 It has been several days since I have heard from "Sir Yummy," as I've come to think of him. The weekend came and went in peaceful relaxation, although I did find myself thinking more than once of the encounter with Sir Yummy and squirming restlessly. Now it is Tuesday and I'm starting to think it was all just an illusion, just a nice little tease. Perhaps I wasn't all that interesting, after all. Yet, even as I think these thoughts I feel my body respond. He said I would, should. Said? No, he commanded it. Apparently my body feels the need to follow his commands even when my head wants to forget all about him. Lost in thought, I find myself jumping when my cell pings with a text message. I fish the phone out of my purse and gasp when I see the message from an unknown number. "Meet me at the front door of your office at 12:00 sharp. You will need to schedule a two hour lunch today." Tiny shivers run up my spine and I feel my juices begin to flow again. I reach a shaky hand towards my phone and buzz my secretary, barking out the sharp order to reschedule my appointments from 12:00 to 2:00 today. I should have known Becca wouldn't just let it go at that, because it didn't take her even thirty seconds to come barreling through my office door. "Ok Boss, spill... what's going on?" She demands. I attempt to play cool and coy and ask why anything needs to be going on, but she persists by telling me that I rarely take a lunch, never a long lunch, and have never requested appointments be rescheduled in order to do so. With an impatient sigh I tell her to just mind her own business, it's personal. "Well," she says, "I hope it has something to do with that beautiful man that Anna told me about yesterday." I just look at her, giving her a cold stare until she begins to slowly back out of the office. I think I hear some mumbling about a rod being removed from my ass, but can't be sure so I let it slide. I try to ignore the time and get back to work, but I just can't concentrate. I sit and practically daydream until it's nearly past time to meet him. I grab my bag and rush out of the office, realizing I only have two minutes to make the long trip through the office and down to the lobby area. The wait for the elevator eats up most of the time so I find myself running through the lobby like my hair is on fire. I do not want him to think I'm not coming and leave again. I look through the silver glassed windows and see him standing outside the front entrance and glancing at his watch. I can't be more than a few seconds late, surely. I slow myself down, take a few deep breaths and push through the rotating door, smiling brightly at him. He only nods in acknowledgment and begins to walk away, leaving me no choice but to follow. "Where are we going?" I ask. He does not answer. "Am I dressed appropriately?" I ask. Again, he does not answer. "Why do I need two whole hours for lunch?" I ask. Again... he does not answer. I finally give up with a shrug and just follow, enjoying the view of his long legged stride eating up the sidewalk. This is a man to be reckoned with, I'm certain of it now. Then I laugh at my own thoughts... as if I weren't certain of that at our first meeting. Finally, he slows his steps and walks into a small café, one of those beautifully cozy places with simple table clothes and the smell of fresh food emanating from behind swinging doors. He leads me to a table and quickly places an order for his lunch, saying that I will only have a glass of water. I look at him questioningly and then state that I am hungry also. He nods and says that I will eat soon, but not here and not with him. Then he begins to tell me what today's meeting is about. "When you leave here," he says, "you are to go shopping... any store you wish, but you need some new clothes. I believe you need some clothes that are more feminine, gentle, and worthy of your beauty. I do not like seeing you in these uptight, manly clothes." "But they are for business," I stammer. "Sir," he says, "you have not addressed a single question or statement today in the proper manner. Have you forgotten your first lesson so quickly, girl? The proper statement is 'But they are for business, Sir.' But that is a moot point anyway, it was an argumentative statement and you will not make argumentative statements towards me again, understand girl?" "Yes, Sir," I reply quietly. "Okay," he continues, "now that that's cleared up, today you will shop for more appropriate dress for a lady. You will text me every time you enter or leave a store and will also take photos of everything you try on. You will shop, but I will make the selections. Do you understand, girl?" "Umm, yes Sir." I stammer. "What aren't you understanding, girl. That didn't sound very confident." He asks. "Well, are you saying that you will pick out my new clothing today, Sir?" I ask. "Yes, girl, today I will select your new clothing. And from now on, anytime you dress, you will send me a photo and then kneel down in your submissive position and await my approval." "My submissive position, Sir?" I ask. I know I am starting to sound like a little parrot, but I'm getting more confused as this conversation continues. His answer startles me, however. He continues by stating that when I get home tonight I should spend time doing some research on submissive positions. When I feel that I have achieved the proper position, I am to take a pic and send it to him. My head is swimming and I mutter another "Yes Sir". Will I ever be able to say anything other than those two words to this man? Then he tells me to go, get busy on my tasks. The funny thing is... I do. I'm excited to get started, excited to please Sir Yummy and hopeful for another "good girl" from him. I begin to enter a small boutique that I've only previously window shopped before, then catch myself and pause to hit "reply" and type a quick message... "Entering Alana's Boutique." And hit send. Then type a quick "Sir" and hit send again. I step into the store and smile when I receive a reply to my texts. There it is, my simple "Good girl." I spend the next hour shopping, trying on dresses, sending pictures and dividing the options up according to his yes or no answer. In the end I walk out of my new favorite store with a half dozen new dresses, shoes to match and even lingerie. I cannot believe I texted him pics of myself trying on lingerie. But with each good girl text I yearned even more to please him. I finish my day in a wave of content. Not even a hiccup on a big account fazed me. I just smiled and kept working on it, working towards 5:00 so I could rush home and find out what this submissive position was all about. At 5:00 I head out of the office and pause only long enough to zip a quick "leaving work" text. I am baffled at how quickly that became so important to me. But, I am not questioning it. It has been a long time since I've felt so comfortable. Entering my apartment I immediately text "made it home" and then put my new clothes away. I flip open my laptop, go straight to Google and type in "submissive positions." Oh, there is a plethora of information. I spend the next hour reading and looking at pictures and sketches of the correct way to sit submissively. Goodness, there is so much to absorb. I am only startled by the fact that the majority of the sites are BDSM sites. I am not one of "those people," am I? After a bit of self-reflection I decide that I don't care if I am one of them and actually, I must be or I would not be responding to this man in this way. A "Dom" is what the sites called men like Sir Yummy. It is an apt description, he certainly is dominant. But am I submissive? Only time will tell, I suppose. I shake off my thoughts, remove my clothing and set the timer on my camera and take my position. On my knees, chin up, eyes lowered, knees spread with my hands placed palm up on my thighs. The camera beeps, flashes and snaps. I look at the picture and hardly recognize myself. My god, is that girl me? It must be a trick of the light, because I look so serene and comfortable in my own skin. Before I can lose my nerve, I send Sir Yummy the photo and ask if he approves of my interpretation of the submissive position. I get no response. I wait for half an hour and am near tears when I hear a knock on the door. I open it to Sir Yummy who, without preamble, says "Yes, that is the correct position. You've done well, girl." I smile and... preen? Yes, I believe that simpering and batting my eyelashes could be considered preening. I am happy and excited to see him again. I recognize the now familiar feeling of dampness on my thighs and realize just how excited I am. Stepping back I allow him to enter my apartment and close the door behind him. I follow him into the living room where he goes straight to my favorite chair and sits, stretching his long legs out in front of him while I stand nervously, watching and waiting. "Well, don't just stand there girl, let me see the position in person" he says. With nervous and trembling fingers I untie the belt on my robe and let it fall to the floor in a puddle of pale pink silk and then take my position as gracefully as possible. I sit as still as I can, waiting for his next command. He just sits and looks at me casually, until I begin to feel self-conscious about my nudity. Just when I think I can't take another minute of the silence, he stands up and walks over to me. Just like last time he begins to run his hands along my skin, touching every part of me. I gasp when his hands skim across my breasts and the slightly roughened palms of his hands tease my aroused nipples. "Are you excited, girl?" He asks. "Yes, Sir," I reply without hesitation. "Then present yourself for inspection, girl," he responds. I tremble, my breath is coming in shallow gasps as I attempt to gracefully go forward, placing my face on the floor and raising my ass high in the air. I know he can see the dampness and tell that I'm throbbing for him, yet I feel no shame in it. After all, part of lesson one was that I should always be ready for him. That has certainly not been a hard rule to follow. Finally, it comes... the touch of his hand along the curve of my hips, down the outside of my thighs, to the inside of my thighs and up to meet at the juncture of my heat. I gasp and can't help but push back towards his hands a little. I am aching, trembling with need. I hear his soft chuckle and then the sudden intrusion of his fingers as he quickly shoves them inside my dripping wet pussy. I moan low and deep in my throat. He says, "I believe this is what you want as a reward for your good behavior, am I right, girl?" I practically howl a desperate, "Yes, Sir," which wins me another chuckle from him. Then it starts, he pushes harder into me and increases the pace. Two fingers, then three, pounding into me hard and fast. I continue to moan and gasp and push back against his hand like a bitch in heat. I feel the orgasm build and push harder... but he stops. He slowly pulls his fingers from me and I groan and whimper with need. I jerk as I feel the palm of his hand on my ass as he smacks me hard. "You will only cum when I tell you to cum. Your orgasms belong to me now. Understand, girl?" He demands. I quiver and twitch but manage to respond in the proper way. "Good girl," he says and then surprises me with, "would you like to suck my cock now, girl?" I look up at him quickly and respond "Yes please, Sir," which wins me a smile from him. "Very well, girl. Do it." He answers. I get to my knees and reach shaky hands towards his pants, slowly unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants and lowering the zipper. I pause and look up at him. He is watching me through half closed eyelids, never wavering, showing no emotion. I continue, pushing both his pants and his underwear down at the same time in my impatience. My breath catches when his beautiful, hard cock springs free of the pants and underwear. I look up at him again and he just continues to watch me. I lean forward and run the tip of my tongue from the base of his cock to the head, slowly teasing and tasting. I'm amazed at how wonderful he tastes. When I reach the head of his cock I swirl my tongue around it and notice his stomach muscles bunching in reaction. I smile a little to myself, and continue by very slowly taking him into my mouth. My tongue works itself around him, attempting to taste every bit of him, as I take him as far into my mouth as possible. I pull back and again look up at him. This time I get a reaction. He gives me a quick wink, grabs my hair in both hands and shoves his cock hard and fast into my mouth. I groan and gag as he hits the back of my throat. With each plunge he pushes harder, further. My eyes are watering from the gagging, or maybe they're watering from the way my hair is being pulled. I'm not sure, and I don't care at this point because... as my Sir fucks my face my juices are flowing freely down my thighs. I've never been so excited by anyone, especially not a man. He again surprises me with a quick command. "Finger yourself for me, girl." He says. I groan against him and do as commanded. My fingers matching themselves to the rhythm he's set. Each time his cock is shoved deep into my throat my fingers plunge into my throbbing wet pussy. I'm panting, everything is happening so fast. The taste of him, the feel of him permeates the very core of my being. Then it comes, a new command... "Cum NOW, girl!" I do, I cum hard. My screams are muffled by his cock in my mouth as my hips continue to rock against my hand even as my juices gush into it. I ride the waves of my orgasm as he grasps my hair harder and pushes so deep into my mouth my nose is pressed against his skin and then he fills my tongue with his delicious cum. I tremble at the gorgeous warm taste of him sliding down my throat and orgasm yet again. Ever so slowly he pulls out of my mouth, helps me to my feet and leads me to the bedroom. I stand on weak trembling legs as he pulls the duvet back on the bed and climbs into it, patting the mattress beside him. I follow his quiet signal and lie down on the bed, only to be surprised by him pulling me against his warm body, placing my head on his shoulder as he holds me tightly. As I begin to drift off, I hear him say that he would certainly think lesson 2 had been a success, also.