0 comments/ 24783 views/ 3 favorites Silent Submission By: melt Through her blindfold she can tell the room is dimly lit. A soft red glow. She is lying on her back on the bed. Her hands are tied together to the headboard. Ropes attached to the corners of the bed and around her ankles hold her legs apart. She is wearing a satin g-string that is stretched taut across her pubic mound. She is wearing nothing else. Just lying there in this position excites her. She can hear him move around the room. She feels the excitement rise warmly in the pit of her stomach and down to her loins as she anticipates what is to happen. He checks the ropes at her ankles. Not too tight. She feels him climb onto the bed next to her. He feels the rope around her wrists. His fingers gently stroke the back of her hands as his thumb caresses her wrists. She feels the first tingling running down her arms as his fingers move slowly down the inside of her forearms. Back up to her wrists. His fingers hardly make contact with her skin as they circle her wrists again and again. With each touch she feels heat coursing through her. She knows she is already wet. He stops. She waits. She wants him to touch her again, but wont say anything, will not ask. That is not for her to do. His hands moved down her forearms, gently stroking the insides of her elbows. Further down to her armpits. Both arms run down her sides to her waist. He kneels between her legs. His hands cup her breasts, his thumbs pushing them up to his fingers, exposing her nipples. She arches her back, coming in submission, and offers her breasts to him. The palms of his hands push her breasts up. Gently at first, then rougher. She can feel him hard against her. Knowing he is turned on makes her want to come, and she shivers in pleasure. She moves her hips to rub her clitoris against him. He pulls away. She is submitting to his will; not he to hers. He leans over her and, his lips barely touching hers, he kisses her. His lips are smooth and make her mouth water. His mouth opens and closes slowly over hers. She catches his rhythm and her mouth opens with his, waiting to receive his tongue. He sucks delicately on each lip. She moans, wanting his tongue inside her. As his bottom lip meets hers she opens her mouth wide. Now inviting his tongue. Still his lips tease hers. She can wait no more and seeks him out with her tongue. He pushes into her pelvis with base of his hardness so that the rest of his sex rests between her buttocks. She quivers and pushes back. Lazily his tongue slips into her mouth, circling inside her mouth. Her tongue caresses his tongue, both dancing together and encircling each other. She moans in pleasure, and so does he. She can tell he is becoming more and more excited and feels him pushing against her pelvis. His hardness glides from her clitoris down to between her buttocks. She clenches them and feels him so hard against her ass. As they kiss deeper his hands press her breasts. He can wait no more and his right hand moves down her body and strokes her smooth mound. She shakes beneath him and moans louder. Suddenly he kneels up. For a moment, nothing. Then she feels his hands touch the outside of her hips. As they run down her thighs they slip to the back of her knees, and down her calves. His fingers encircle her ankles, and the palms of his hands graze the tops of both her feet. He has moved down the bed. Both hands hold her right foot. She feels his breath on her toes. His lips run along the tips of her toes. They pause at her big toe. He takes it in his mouth, only his lips and tongue touching it. He runs his tongue around it and sucks, his mouth rising up and down. She overcomes the initial tickling sensation to enjoy the sense of being at his mercy, allowing him to do as he pleases. He withdraws and she feels his hands keep contact with her feet and legs as he changes position to kneel beside her. One hand strokes the inside of her thigh as the other strokes the area between her elbow and her breast. He bends to kiss her navel, still stroking her. He moves down her body and turns so both hands stroke the inside of her thighs. His mouth moves down to the satin stretched across her. She can feel his breath on her wetness which she knows shows through the satin. He rubs his mouth and cheeks firmly between the top of the material and her wetness, always stroking her thighs. He moves slowly between the two. How she wants him to run his tongue around her clit. Then he moves up her body to kiss her navel. Further up between her breasts. Further up her neck and kisses her deeply, his mouth across her, his tongue circling the inside of her lips, seeking her tongue. They meet and almost entwine. His hand rakes from the bottom of her neck to her chest. He breaks the kiss as his hands move down her body to her thighs. His hands push down on her thighs and he squeezes them. She moans, enjoying being manhandled. He moves between her thighs. He pulls aside the satin and his mouth sucks at her wetness. She feels his tongue running up and down her lips, then his lips push against hers as his tongue rolls inside them. His tongue seeks out her clit, and circles it repeatedly. Then flicks it up and down and side to side and circles it again, and repeats the whole mix. She is trembling beneath him when he breaks off. He kisses her again on the mouth. She can taste herself and how she tastes on him. She is shaking in orgasm. He pulls the satin further aside and she feels him hard against her. He rubs against her and barely enters her, sliding between her lips. She wants him inside her. She wants to beg him to enter her and slide in and out of her. He teases her like this for what seems an age before he pushes the head of his cock into her. She inhales sharply and feels herself tighten around him for a moment, then open and almost pull him inside her. Slowly he pulls out until just the tip is inside her. He moves his hips in a circle so his tip massages the inside of her lips. He pulls back her blindfold so she can watch as he enters her again. She watches as he sinks deep into her and then starts to slide in and out of her slowly and gently. Long and strong strokes push her to orgasm again and again. She wants him to slam into her, but he keeps a slow pace. Very slowly he pulls himself out of her, his fingers playing with her as he withdraws. He changes position. Now he kneels beside her again, but further up the bed. She can feel him rub his moist cock against her breast. She watches as he bends to kiss and suck her breast hard, his hand squeezing her other breast then moving to her open wetness. He kneels up and rubs his tip against her wet nipple, flicking it. She can feel him grow even harder as the underside of his cock plays with her breasts. He moves up the bed and places his tip at her lips. She opens her mouth hungrily to take him and suck him, but he lets her just kiss and lick the underside of him. He moans, and watches her tongue slide around and under his increasingly hard cock. It always turns him on to the point of orgasm to watch her like this. Her tongue, so very wet, circles his glans quicker and quicker. He pulls away, feeling himself and being turned on watching her watch him play with himself. He moves to the bottom of the bed and unties her ankles. He moves between her thighs. In one fluid movement he enters her and her legs wrap around his back. He leans back on his elbows so his hands can squeeze her breasts as he starts to fuck her again. He kisses her and can taste himself and her in the kiss. As their mouths are joined they both moan in pleasure. His super-wet mouth slides over her nipples as he fucks her harder and faster, then back to her mouth. She tightens her legs around him, pushing her clitoris so it is rubbed and banged with each stroke. God, it feels so good to be tied and fucked. Her moans become louder and louder until they are rhythmic grunts then screams. He keeps on fucking hard and fast. She keeps on squeezing and screaming. She can feel him begin to tense all over his body and she knows that his is going to come. She tightens round his cock, feeling it become bigger and harder. His rhythm becomes more urgent and irregular. His low moans are joined with her breathless screams. Faster and harder, now. She watches him as he explodes inside her. She can feel his hot seed splash against her and she relaxes and contracts her vaginal muscles, milking every last drop from him. God it feels good to be tied and fucked. Silent Submission She stood, apprehensively, on the wooden porch guarding the entrance of the large, weatherboard house. The scent of roses escaped from the garden and freely caressed her robust form as she held her breath and fought the butterflies in her stomach. She took a step forward, the heel of her black leather high heels crashing down on the porch, killing the nervous silence and reverberating into eternity. She knew he would be standing on the other side of the white front door, aware of her presence yet waiting until she rang the doorbell. She regained her breath and gingerly reached out toward the doorbell, a strand of luscious red hair spilling across her face. She pressed the button; he opened the door immediately. He smiled his approval as his gaze embraced her. Her shoulder length red hair framed an innocent face, her sweet cherry lips in a perfect pout as her blue-grey eyes sought his. Her pale throat half hidden by the mid-calf length black overcoat she wore. She shifted from one foot to another under his gawp uncomfortably, her shapely stocking-clad calves tapering into slim ankles above chic black heels. She blushed as she moved, aware of the wetness already growing between her creamy thighs. Wordlessly, he stepped back and invited her in. Shutting the door behind her, he coaxed the coat from her frame and, without warning, pushed her naked shoulders back against the wall of the hallway. The blue satin corset hugged her figure and he murmured in appreciation as he ran his fingertips over her delicious cleavage, sending a shiver through her body. She held in a sigh as he placed his hand at the lacy top of her black thigh-high stockings, and softly massaged her warm skin. He leaned into her, pressing his lips hard against hers and slipping his tongue deftly into her mouth, then breaking off the kiss and stepping back before she had time to reciprocate. Lightly, he took her hand in his and led her down the hallway into the cavernous guest room. The curtains were drawn and the room was engulfed in obscurity. He turned to her, and pressed lightly down on her shoulders. Obediently, she dropped to her knees on the soft, plush carpet and knelt, motionless, as he moved around the large room lighting candles. He returned, standing before her in the warm glow of the flickering light. She raised her head, looking up at him as he locked his eyes on hers and delved into his pocket, pulling out a blue silken scarf. He leaned forward, draping the scarf across her eyes and tying it firmly at the back of her head, the blue of the silk contrasting against the rich colour of her hair. Her heart quickened as her world fell into darkness and she was forced to rely on her other senses. A tingle moved swiftly through her attentive body as he trailed a fingertip across her cheek and let it linger, momentarily, on her full lips. She was unable to suppress an audible sigh as she heard him fumble with his belt buckle. Eagerly, she ran her tongue over her soft lips as her ears caught the unmistakable sound of a zipper unzipping. He smiled to himself as he watched her lick her lips hungrily, his cock was hard in his hand and he let his pants collapse around his feet. He stood motionlessly in front of her, making her wait until she shivered in anticipation. Without thinking, her hand moved to the ever-increasing wetness caught in the sheer panties between her legs. She heard him growl and quickly retracted her hand, though not before he reprimanded her with a short, gentle blow across her cheek. Shamed, the crimson crept across her face. He painted a finger with his pre-cum and, slowly and deliberately, smeared it across her lips. Her tongue snaked quickly across her lips, and she murmured softly as she savoured his taste. He stepped closer to her; she inhaled deeply, smelling his deep, masculine scent. He pressed the head of his hard cock against her warm, alluring lips, barely able to contain a sigh as she responded by running the tip of her tongue over him. Keenly, she took the head of his cock into her inviting mouth and felt him pulsate against her tongue. She swirled her tongue around him adeptly, eliciting a guttural groan from his lips and a twitch from the base of his cock. She tightly pursed her lips around him, and swiftly began to work her mouth over the head of his cock, sighing into him as his pre-cum coated her red lips and slithered across her tongue. He drank her in through his eyes, her sweet face blemished by the silk blindfold and violated by the hard cock in her wholesome mouth, and he battled to contain the orgasm he felt rising deep within. Suddenly, she engulfed his entirety greedily, drawing a cascade of moans from him as he felt the head of his cock nudge the back of her throat and saw her nose almost pressing against his stomach. Overcome with desire, he placed his hands over her ears and held her head still, his cock deep within her mouth. She caressed his cock with her tongue, and squirmed from the wetness now smudged against her thighs from her soaked panties. His breathing grew ragged as he continued to hold her still and, slowly at first, began to move his cock in and out of her mouth. He quickened his pace, thrusting his hips as he fucked her lovely mouth, barely able to control himself. He stopped and held himself deep in her mouth again, before withdrawing completely and taking his hands from over her ears. She was a beautiful sight; her slightly swollen lips glistened in the muted candle light and her panties were visibly wet. He tapped her on the shoulder, motioning for her to rise and she did so obediently. She ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, relishing his wonderful taste, and desperately wanting more. He stepped in to her, holding her arms and drawing her closer to him as he kissed her firmly, his tongue exploring his own flavour. Breaking off the kiss, he moved behind her and breathed hotly in her ear, causing an explosion of shivers over her body. He ran his hands over the satin corset, she could feel his hardness pressing against her and she wriggled back against him, a sigh taking flight from his lips as her full, round ass caressed him. He stepped back, taking the cord of her corset in his hands and undoing it carefully. The corset fell from her, exposing her pale satin skin and her large, ripe breasts and rosy pink nipples. The colour rose in her cheeks as she heard him move in front of her, aware of the lusty stare falling on her chest. He stood, silent and unmoving, as his eyes greedily fondled her half-naked form. Her chest rose and fell with each quickening breath and her ears strained to hear the noise he was not making. He reached out, taking a pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it forcefully. The unexpected touch caused her to whimper softly. Smiling, he strummed both her erect rosy nipples with his fingers before trailing his fingertips lightly down her stomach and resting them atop her sheer, hip-hugging panties. He felt her body quiver under his touch and heard her breath catch in her throat as he ran a finger teasingly over her panty-covered pussy and pressed softly against her tender clitoris. She felt herself flush as he peeled the panties from her hips, rolling them slowly down her stocking-clad thighs and allowing them to fall to the floor. He knelt in front of her placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer to him and kissed her warm, wet pussy as passionately as he would her mouth. A low moan fell from her lips as she felt his nimble tongue working at her needy pussy and she pressed herself hard against him. He filled his mouth with her, delighting in her enticing taste before, much to her dismay, standing again and gently taking her hand. She followed him across the soft carpet until he stopped and took his hand from hers. As she stood still her heart was ready to explode in her chest in anticipation of the unknown. He placed his hands firmly on her lily-white shoulders and turned her, then, in one swift move, he pushed her backwards. She fell, gasping in relief as she felt the springy mattress of the large four-post bed embrace her. The cool blue silk sheet caressed her hot skin and she enjoyed the sensation. He arranged her on the bed with her legs spread wide and her arms away from her torso, and he tied her wrists and ankles to the bedposts with strips of the same blue silk that was covering her eyes. She was an erotic, luscious version of Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man as she laid spread-eagled on the bed. He stood, drinking in the delicious vision of her, her delicate feet hiding in the stylish black heels, the sheer black stockings only adding to the shape of her legs and stopping in a flurry of lace mid-way up her thighs. Her smooth pussy pouted at him and glistened in the flickering light and her stomach, pale and slightly rounded, led up to her full, globular breasts where her pink nipples stood erect and in need of attention. Her red hair spilled across her creamy shoulders and slid onto the blue sheet and only the silk scarf tied across her eyes marred her perfect face. Moving away from the bed, he walked to the cupboard and opened a drawer. She heard his every move; her mind raced with possibilities as he rummaged noisily, and deliberately, through the drawer. She listened to him return and stand beside the bed, her nerves abused as he unexpectedly brought the black leather riding-crop hard down against the silk sheet she laid on, causing her whole body twitch in shock and a warm tremble of excitement to follow. He ran the tip of the crop over her stomach, watching in satisfaction as a wave of goose bumps spread over her form. He trailed the crop up, over her breasts and looped the leather tip over one of her nipples. She sighed as the cold leather fondled one nipple and then the other. In one swift motion, he lifted the crop from her and brought it down firmly against her breast. She gasped as the leather hit her soft skin, her breast stinging initially then spreading a familiar warmth across her torso. Her pale skin glowed a gentle pink as he smacked the crop against her other breast. He gently teased her nipples with the leather tip before hitting her again, a little harder this time. She sighed, the tingle in her breasts running down directly to her pussy, her wetness increasing with each smack of the crop. He whipped her more and her sighs turned to whimpers each time the leather caressed her tender, reddening skin. He stopped as a quiet sob escaped her mouth, and leaned down, gently kissing her stinging breasts and softly running his tongue over her puffy red nipples. Standing again, he lightly trailed the top of the riding crop down her stomach to the top of her delightful pink slit, causing her to quiver at the touch of the leather. He pressed the crop against her clitoris and circled it gently, luring a composition of moans from her sweet mouth. Suddenly, lifting the crop from her, he firmly smacked her pussy. She writhed under the stinging blow, her breathing growing ragged as the sensation rang throughout her body. Pain mingled with pleasure as he drew his attention back to her sensitive clit, fondling it gently with the black leather. Her pussy smouldered as he smacked her again, pushing her another step closer to the edge of orgasm. Without warning, he pushed the crop deep inside her wetness. She cried out, her pussy trembling as he began to fuck her with the crop, demanding her to cum for him. Her face wrought with pleasure as her moans began to crescendo; he could feel how tight she was around the crop as he thrust it into her quickly. Her thighs twitched involuntarily as she exploded inside, her back arching and her heart galloping as she came hard. Her juices coated the crop and smeared against the inside of her thighs. He pulled the crop from her as her orgasm subsided and she lay still, trying to regain her breath as her pussy continued to throb. He placed the wet leather of the crop against her lips, aware of the eagerness pulsing through his groin as she licked ravenously at her own essence. Throwing the crop to the floor after she had licked it clean, he hastened around the bed, untying her wrists and ankles. He took her roughly by the shoulders, sliding her across the smooth silk sheets and turning her, until she was kneeling on the carpet beside the bed and leaning over it, her large breasts squashed against the mattress and the cool blue sheet caressing her cheek. He took a blue scarf and bound her wrists behind her back. She trembled, whimpering in anticipation as she felt him impatiently pushing her thighs wider apart. He ran his finger down her slippery slit, delighted at how wet and utterly aroused she was. He was throbbing now, pre-cum coated the head of his hard cock and he needed her quickly. Grabbing her hips, he rubbed himself against her wetness, the long-anticipated touch drawing moans from both of them. She desperately tried to push back against him, inviting him inside her. In one smooth action, he entered her wet pussy, pushing in as deep as he could, a low guttural groan tumbling from his lips as he felt her warm silkiness snugly around him. She gasped as he filled her and held himself deep inside her. He pulled back from her, almost completely withdrawing, before he thrust his entirety into her again. She clenched herself tightly around his cock, feeling him pulsate inside her. He stayed buried deep inside her as he took a hand from her hip and reached around underneath her, coating his fingers in her slick juices, teasing her sensitive clitoris and making her sigh and shudder in pleasure. He slowly, but forcefully, began to move rhythmically in and out of her as his fingers circled her clit, urging her to cum. A composition of sighs flew from her mouth as she felt her entire body quake, his relentless fingers delving around her clit and his hard cock forever filling her greedy pussy, pushing her towards another orgasm. He felt her spasm around his cock and pinched her clit firmly between his fingers, sending her flying over the edge. She moaned loudly into the mattress, her body rigid as her heart stopped momentarily, her cum dribbling down her thighs and wetting the lacy tops of the black stockings and smothering his cock. He took his hand from her clit, and withdrew his cock from her wetness as her orgasm faded and she caught her breath. He ran his sticky fingers slowly down the crack between her buttocks, stopping at her small anus and wriggling a finger inside her. He felt her respond instantly, clasping tightly around his finger and moving her hips back against him. Taking his finger from her, he spread her ass cheeks with his hands and pressed the head of his cock, glistening with her juices, against her opening. Without warning, he grasped her hips and slammed himself deep inside her tight ass. She cried out, cumming immediately. The top of her stockings were soaked with her cum. She pushed back against him as he withdrew entirely, and then began moving just the head of his cock quickly in and out of her ass. She writhed underneath him, unable to contain her moans as he invaded her. Her anus was hot against the head of his cock, turning his desire into frenzy. He drove himself deeply into her, groaning as he felt her tighten around him. He withdrew, and pushed back in forcefully, the loud sound of his skin slapping against hers was barely audible between their mingled moans of pleasure. He quickened his pace, aware of the tightening in his balls as he fucked her ass fast and fervently. He felt her shudder underneath him, and he slammed into her powerfully as he took a hand from her hip and reached out, taking a candle from the bedside table. He moaned in anticipation as he extinguished the candle, slipping in and out of her gaping ass easily now. His balls began to spasm as he quickly approached orgasm, and he pushed himself as deep inside her as he could. Unable to contain himself any longer, he cried out as he began to climax, his whole body twitching as he erupted far inside her. He tipped the candle over her as his orgasm hit fully, his breathing heavy and ragged as the warm wax splashed along her spine. She yelped, whimpering as the wax hit her unready body. His moans mixed with hers, the combined sensations of the wax heating her soft skin and of him bursting inside her were too much, and she came again. She shuddered hard, gasping for breath as her ass tightened around him and milked him of his cum while her juices flowed freely down her stockinged thighs, pooling on the floor between her knees. He collapsed on her, tenderly kissing her shoulders and neck as the last of his orgasm washed over him. She murmured underneath him, sighing contentedly as he softened and slipped out of her. He stood, released her wrists and helped her to her feet. Turning her to face him, he kissed her mouth ardently as he reached behind her and undid the silk blindfold. He stepped back, caressing her with his content gaze one last time; her luscious red hair unkempt, her china-white face flushed crimson, her beautiful lips swollen and there was satisfaction in her bottomless eyes. Her breasts were pink and tender, her nipples puffy and standing proud. Her pussy was soaked and sticky, and the inside of her black stockings were stained dark from her own cum. She was gorgeous. He gathered her corset and panties and placed them in a bag. Smiling, he took her hand and led her, clad only in stockings and heels, to the front door. He took the heavy black coat from the hanger and helped her into it, doing the buttons up slowly as his eyes gave her his thanks. He kissed her softly on the cheek as he placed the bag in her hands and opened the door for her. She stepped outside as he closed the door behind her, the heel of her black high heels crashing down on the porch and reverberating into eternity ... Silent Submission This story is continued as "Sarah's Way" in subsequent chapters, having discovered that there is already a series under my original title posted. * Coming from the hall, I met my wife, Sarah, in the middle of the living room, dressed like she was headed out the door on her usual Saturday morning errands. She stopped in front of me with a serious look on her face and said, "Mark, today at 5 o'clock you are to meet me right here, in the living room, completely naked. You are to bring with you that tall stool you've had since college and a paddle from the ping-pong set with the game table downstairs. And, before then you are to go out in the yard and from one of the trees or bushes cut me a switch. More of a rod than a flimsy twig, actually. It is to be flexible, but firm, not brittle. "You are to be caned," she said, without breaking her tone or increasingly stern expression. "And you are to provide your own instrument of your torture." My jaw dropped further and further as she went on. I gazed at her with disbelief, not knowing what other emotion to show. But when a fiery redhead fixes those bright green eyes in a stern stair at you, the idea that "she's kidding" does not seem to be one of the most likely explanations. Sarah and I had been married for five years, dating for a few years before that and now in our late 30s without children, but still with a declining sex life. Sarah had the kind of body I love, but not the kind that most men find ideal. She had long, bright red hair and a fair, freckled complexion. She carried a few extra pounds on that 5'5" frame, top heavy with large breasts. Not that she was in the "BBW" category -- not at all according to my definition. But that little extra weight for me gave her a feel of authenticity, a real woman from strong country stock and not the drop-dead figure of a beauty that so often seems unreachable. Still, those few extra pounds made her sensitive about her body, and uncomfortable being undressed in front of me. I wasn't even allowed in the bathroom with her and had grown to resent her physical bashfulness. So, too, did I resent her bossiness around the house. Of course, resentment manifests itself in small ways that become large in a relationship, and our marriage was under some strain, though nowhere near a break-up point. As we had grown more apart physically, I had taken to indulging in sexual fantasies on the Internet, including some long-held fascination with female dominant CFNM and BDSM scenarios. Sarah was quite a neophyte at using the Internet with search engines and web browsers, so it seemed easy to hide my secretive stuff from her view. Or was it? With this out-of-the-blue declaration of what I was to do leading up to being caned (and I knew from the Web what that meant!) I didn't know how to process it. Was Sarah displaying some hidden sexually dominant side of her personality? Was she angry over those little ways my resentment showed through and wanted to physically punish me for it? Worse yet, there were those times that I half-heartedly dabbled in searches for casual sex or affairs over the 'Net. Had she discovered those with computer skills I didn't know she had and was ready to administer severe punishment for it? Did she just discover my Internet porn surfing and find my interest in female domination fantasies, and decided to play the role because she thought that's what I wanted sexually? But fantasies are not realities, and I didn't necessarily want to experience anything like that for real. So was this a sexual game? An attempt to punish me for wrongdoing? An outrageous step taken to force a breakup she wanted? All of this flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds as she relayed her orders and maintained her demeanor. Then it was my turn to speak and I had to process and think of something quick. "You can't be serious," I laughed, though nothing in her demeanor suggested she was not serious. "You want to cane me? Why do you want to cane me and why in the world should I let you? Is this some kind of joke?" "She continued to glare at me in an enigmatic way, still impossible to discern if this were a game or revenge for wrong at play. "I have good reasons for wanting to do it, and I think you know that. If you want to talk about it first, I suppose we can," she sighed. "But knowing how you hate talks about 'our relationship' or problems that we're having, it may be less painful for you to just bend over and take it rather than talk about it first. But if you insist, we can talk before your caning, if that's really what you want to do." "Well. . ." I stammered, "What if I don't do what you say? Why should I let you cane me? That would hurt." "A lot," she replied sternly. "Well, if you don't, I guess I might as well not be home tonight. I'm not going to talk about this now. I think you know what this is about. If you want to talk, let's have one of those talks you hate tonight at five, or just show up here naked like I said and we won't have to talk. You have a few hours to think about it, and to get ready for your caning. "But you are going to be caned," she went on with a definitive tone. "I suggest you be careful in cutting the switch. Don't make me go out and find a good one myself. Right now I am going to Michelle's and we're going together to see Suzanne, who just got out of the hospital. You can think about what you want to say about this, or just get ready for it." With that, she left me, dumbfounded. How indeed was I going to play this? What was it all about? I figured out that that was the key -- determining what her game was. Was this some sort of sexual fantasy she had and decided to boldly act on it? That was an intriguing thought, as her lack of an adventurous spirit when it came to sex was perhaps my chief frustration with Sarah. Did she discover that it was a fantasy of mine? But I wouldn't even call it much of a fantasy. When I fantasized about sex, it was usually pretty conventional, if somewhat graphic. I got turned on by reading BDSM stories, but never thought about approaching Sarah about acting out those kinds of scenes, or looking for others to do them. Still, she would have assumed it was a fetish I was drawn to had she probed my Literotica searches. Was she trying to reach out to me by fulfilling what she thought was my fantasy? Did she discover that we shared the same fantasy but had never communicated it with one another? But maybe it wasn't really all that sexual. Maybe she discovered my probing for possible affairs and decided this extreme form of corporal punishment would be her response? Perhaps she had discovered both at once -- a reason to punish me and to draw me closer by fulfilling my supposed fantasy? Clearly, I could not be sure what this was about without talking. And she had me on that point. I really did hate talking about our problems or our relationship, because I always seemed to end up on the short end of those discussions, even when I was sure I was right. Clearly, I wanted to avoid being confronted with my activities on the Internet. If she knew about them -- well, she was right. I'd rather endure a caning than that conversation, as long as I didn't have to endure both. But what if this was just a sexual fantasy and she was taking a direct approach to making it happen? There are times in life when realizations cause great anxiety, even fear. I felt that when a wave of fear went through me and lodged in the pit of my stomach. I admitted to myself that my cock stirred when she told me to be in the living room naked at a certain time. The obvious implication that some sexual situation would follow and the fact that she had ordered me to do it started to arouse me. The paddle and the cane surprised me, scared me, and aroused me at the same time. What would it be like to in reality submit to what had aroused me when I read those stories? If I wasn't careful, I could talk my way out of a good sexual fantasy come to life and replace it with one of those annoying relationship talks. Was I rationalizing what I was doing? As I leaned more and more toward complying it was while I was outside with a sharp pocketknife looking through the branches of trees and bushes for something that would be suitable. At what point in my thought process did I come outside and start looking? I didn't even know. I seemed to justify the search by thinking I could process this all at the same time I was looking, but was that action a signal that I was looking for a justification for complying? Most men would have told her off when the time came and demanded an explanation from her. For whatever reason, I picked out a young branch from a Willow tree. It tapered thin, as Willow does, but by cutting it off at its base at the trunk and about five feet in length, it retained the flexibility of Willow, but was still fairly thick and firm. I took it back to my workshop, where I built my fishing rods, and sanded it down smooth. The top end had frayed a bit where I cut, but I lacquered the entire length, then wrapped some of the line I use for tying eyelets on rods around the end, securing it with the usual clear glue. I did the same on the thick end, wrapping a good eight inches of it in line, glued down, to make a fine handle. There was plenty of time for it all to dry before Sarah returned. She didn't return much before 5. She did not greet me or make any references to her demands of that morning. She didn't speak to me at all. Something told me she was as nervous as I was, perhaps afraid that I would confront her with her totally unreasonable demand. But at 5 p.m., I walked into the living room nude, carrying the stool she ordered. She was sitting on the couch, and looked up from reading her magazine. I knew she was not really concentrating on it, instead focused on how I was about to react and perhaps wondering if she had overplayed her hand. I placed the stool in the center of the room, where we had met some hours before, then returned to the bedroom. When I came out, still nude, carrying the paddle and the cane I had made, she was standing by the stool, expressionless. "Here is the paddle you asked me to find," I said, handing it to her. "And I made this." I presented the cane, resting between my upturned open palms. She took it from me, her eyes widening and brightening. "Wow!" she said, suddenly changing her demeanor and looking in amazement at what I had handed her. "You made this?? I can't believe it!" she said. "This is wonderful. You even finished it -- and this is like a little handle," she went on, wrapping her hand around the widely threaded end. She waved it in the air as if taking some practice swings, a smile broadening on her face. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach, not understanding why I had made such a nice rod for her. I stood there entirely naked in front of her, having presented her with what she had earlier that day referred to as the instrument of my torture, which I had been made to provide for myself. Unless I did something to put a stop to this she was indeed going to torture me with it -- for real. "Why, this is just amazing," she said, still turning the instrument over and over and examining it, as if I had given her a wonderful piece of jewelry for Christmas. "Thank you for putting so much work into this!" she gushed. Then, after a brief pause, it began. "Well, Mark, it's time," she said. Sarah put an arm lightly around my back and guided me a couple of steps to the other side of the stool, then gently pressed between my shoulder blades to guide me down over the padded top of the tall stool. She had me scoot forward a little and showed me how to place my feet right up against the insides of the two legs closest to me. Moving to the other side, she took my hands and pulled them down as far as my arms would reach. "Now grab onto the legs here," she said, placing my hands low down on the two legs on the opposite side. My body was stretched out, my butt high in the air, my cheeks and legs close together. "Now, hold on real tight, and don't let go until I tell you you can stand. That's important," she said, the sternness returning to her voice. She walked around behind me. "I'm going to warm you up good with the paddle first. That will make you even more sensitive for your caning," she said, sounding like a dental hygienist explaining how she was going to floss her patient's teeth. "That will be hard enough on you, but that's only the preliminary," she went on. "You're going to have to hold tight and concentrate on holding tight. Believe me, you don't want to start acting out on me." I felt the rough edge of the paddle touch my right butt cheek. There were small, slightly raised bumps on the surface, designed to add friction for putting a spin on a ping pong ball. Those would add to the sting, I thought, the knot in my stomach getting tighter. But at the same time, adopting this submissive attitude and the anticipation of what was about to take place, made my cock start to rise. I swallowed hard. Whap! The first impact of the paddle came down on my right cheek, stinging even harder than I expected. "Ow!!!" I exclaimed, and instinctively reached back to protect my ass. "Don't let go!" Sarah shouted. "That was nothing! You're going to have to be a lot stronger than that!" I grabbed the legs again. "Now concentrate!" Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! The blows came slow, but hard, alternating between the cheeks, with the last landing between. "Uh! Uh!" I grunted in pain, reacting to each blow. "Just getting started with the warm-up," Sarah said matter-of-factly. Whap! Whap! I got two more, this time lower down on my butt. She was trying to cover the entire region, I could tell. "Ok, hold on real tight, Mark. I'm going to start warming you up now." I though that's what she had been doing. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! The blows came harder, and in rapid succession. "Ahhhhh!" I screamed, but still managed to hold tight to the legs. My ass was already on fire and she was continuing to pour it on. "Sarah! Stop! Stop! Pleaaaaase! No!" Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! "Hold still!" she shouted, since I began to squirm, my feet starting to rise in the air, wanting to run. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! "Please! Noooooo!" I pleaded. I had begun to cry from the searing pain. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! I have no idea how many I took or how long it lasted, but I was crying like a baby when she stopped. "Ok," Sarah said calmly, ignoring my tears and the pleading she had just heard. "I think you are about the right color now." My ass must have been a very bright red by then. Sarah knelt by my face and spoke softly into my ear. "I know that was tough on you, but it's going to get tougher. You have to concentrate hard on holding on. This will be over soon, but the rest is not going to be easy. But you can do it. Just hold on." I was still crying, and getting more and more afraid. I recalled again her words from earlier in the day: "You are to provide your own instrument of your torture." If this was going to get worse, it would be torture in the truest sense of the word. And I had handed her a well-made instrument I created to do it. I realized she had picked it up. Whoosh! Whoosh! The sounds of her practice swings made me whimper softly. I felt the length of the rod across my butt. Whoosh! Crack! "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!" I screamed and could not stop myself from standing up and reaching again to protect my sensitive, burning ass. I didn't get all the way up before being pushed back down. "Get down!" she shouted. Sarah again knelt by my face. Later, I realized I could have easily pushed her away and put a stop to the torture then and there as having gone too far. But at the time the thought did not cross my mind. That she was in total control seemed to be a reality I accepted as inevitable. "Mark, you have got to hold on! Mark, you are going to be caned! It is going to happen! It is happening! The best you can do is to hold on and get through it! Now concentrate! You can do this! You were to get ten, but that stunt has now made it 12. Just don't blow it and you will get through this." I was crying, nearly in a panic, but somehow convinced that she was right and all I could do was hold on. I grasped the legs as tightly as I could and gritted my teeth. Crack! "Ahhhh!" Crack! Crack! I stopped even hearing myself, but remember I was pleading for mercy. The cuts of the cane did not come in rapid succession like the blows of the paddle. Each one was measured, deliberate, and carefully aimed, with time in between to anticipate the next. Crack! Crack! I also lost all track of the count. The pain was unbelievable. I would call it unendurable if I had not actually endured it. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Ok, you've had your ten. Just a couple more to make up for you trying to get away. You're almost there, Mark." Crack! Crack! I was crying harder than I have ever cried. Tears were dripping on the carpet, sweat rolling across my face. "Ok, you can stand up now," Sarah said. "Your caning is over, Mark. You did well." I slowly stood, and reached back to cup my butt cheeks in my palms to ease the pain. It did the opposite. I could not bear to touch myself there. "Stand right there," Sarah said, then walked away toward the hallway closet by the bathroom. She came back with a towel and a handkerchief for me. I dried my tears and blew my nose, and tried to calm down while she moved the stool away and spread the towel out in front of me, reaching from my feet to the newly positioned stool. Sarah sat on the stool. She allowed me a few moments to compose myself. Sarah was sitting calmly and confidently on the stool, a very slight smile on her lips. I was standing naked and crying, in incredible pain, but with my humiliation not yet over. Sarah was looking down toward me, and I realized for the first time that despite it all I had a raging hard-on. "Now, Mark," Sarah said, nodding toward my penis, "I want you to take care of yourself." When I did not move, being puzzled, she repeated. "Go on now, I want you to take care of yourself," she nodded again toward my cock, not taking her eyes off of it. "Go ahead. Take your cock in your hand and finish yourself for me." She smiled a slight bit more, still gazing between my legs. I realized she expected me to masturbate for her. I had never done that in anyone's presence. I was still sobbing a bit from the caning, but I reached down and started to stroke my erection. "Don't look at your cock!" Sarah ordered. "Just look at me. Don't take your eyes off of me." She kept her eyes on my cock, except for the occasional glace up to make sure I was looking at her. "Now, Mark, when you get close to finishing, and you know you're going to come and can't stop it, I want you to let go of your cock and drop your hands to your sides. Then just stand there and let your cock squirt on its own." She watched me stroke my cock, still with a slight smile on her face, seeming to enjoy the show, and as if the torture she had just administered to me had not happened. I was in the position of the men in the femdom stories I had read, and I could not believe I was still aroused enough to masturbate for her, actually enjoying the fact that she seemed to enjoy watching. "Uh! Uh!" I grunted as I felt it building. When I reached the point of inevitability, I did what she had ordered. My hands dropped to my sides. A couple of seconds later, it started. Silent Submission And so I stood there, completely naked, with tear-stained cheeks and eyes still swollen from crying, my ass burning with pain and no doubt bright red and covered with welts from my caning -- and my cock twitching as it squirted my cum onto the towel below, my dominant wife watching in amusement. "Ok, you can clean up now," Sarah said, smiling at me and looking in my eyes for the first time since my spanking began. "Put your paddle and cane away where you can find them again, put the stool back and the towel in the laundry. Then go lay down on the bed for a rest," she went on. I bent over slowly and picked up the towel, draping it around my neck. I carried the stool and the instruments of my torture back to the bedroom. I took time in the bed room to examine the damage done to my still aching and burning backside. The sight frightened me. My ass was a fiery red, with the long, thin marks of the cane making parallel lines across, both high and low. Purplish welts raised up all around. It would take a while to heal -- even a while until I would be able to sit comfortably, I figured. The ordeal had exhausted me, and Sarah was quite right that I should lay down to rest. I stretched out on the bed on my stomach. Momentarily, Sarah came in. "Oh, you poor dear," she said, eyeing my sore ass. "You really did take a hard caning." She said it as if she had nothing to do with it and it was something that just happened to me, like a fall. She held a tube of some sort of ointment in her hand. She squeezed a little in her right hand, then put the tube down. With her lovely left hand gently caressing my back, she started to rub the cool cream on my wounds with her right hand. Her touch on those sensitive spots made me jump, and it did hurt to have her touch me there, but at the same time the cream and her touch had a soothing effect. "This will make you feel better and keep you from getting any nasty infections," she said, now sounding like a mother taking care of a hurt child. My emotions were hard to describe, and hard to accept. I deeply appreciated her loving touch, her concern and sympathy. I wanted to cling to her to be taken care of and comforted in this difficult and confusing ordeal. Yet I knew all along that she was the cause of all of my pain and humiliation. I felt so much love for her as she comforted me but had a hard time reconciling that with the image of her looking amused as I, still in great pain, stood with my hands at my side and my cock erupting semen while she watched. I recalled a story I heard about the terrible Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin. He was said to have brought a live chicken into a meeting with his top staff, and announced a demonstration on how to treat the Russian people. He then began to pluck handfuls of feathers from the live bird until it was naked and bloodied. He then threw the tortured bird on the floor at his feet, with a few kernels of corn. It huddled close to his black boots as if seeking comfort and protection. "It's going to be OK. You did great," Sarah said. "Now you rest for a while, then come out to see me. Don't get dressed yet. Just think about anything you might want to say to me, then come out." She left me there to process it all. I still didn't know why I submitted. All those thoughts of how to play the situation to avoid confrontation about my secrets or talks about our relationship seemed now in hindsight as ways to avoid the deeper issue going on inside of me. Her demand that I present myself for a caning by an instrument of my own making was a demand that I submit to her, and I couldn't hide behind any temporary desire to avoid the discomfort of a conversation I didn't want to have. I suspected that deep down all along I realized the choice was to submit or not and I just had to decide what role I wanted. Still, why did she do it? Did she see what stories I read and figure I had a deep desire to be a submissive, so she fed that desire, or found it played into her desire to dominate? Or did she just feel her own desire to dominate and just demanded that I submit, and had I not the marriage would be over? On the other hand. . . I drifted off to sleep rolling it over in my mind, but not thinking for a minute about what I wanted to say to her. I awoke about 90 minutes later and took about 10 more to clear the sleep from my eyes and stretch a bit. My butt felt better, but still sore, as it would be for days. I didn't think about the situation, or what to do next, though I knew it was some kind of decision time. I walked out to the living room and found Sarah sitting on the couch watching TV. She looked up at me with an inquisitive expression. "How are you feeling?" she asked. "Better," I said, then added, without thinking and for reasons I didn't understand, "Sarah, I'm sorry. And thanks for caning me." "Come here," she smiled. She pulled me down next to her. Sarah was leaning partly against the arm of the couch and partly against the back, with her legs stretched out in front of her along the length of the long couch. She made room for me, still nude, on the edge and had me lean back against her shoulder. She put her right arm around me and held me close, then merely changed the subject. She was watching a Comedy Central show, some stand-up comic, and started telling me about him and laughing. Soon we were watching TV together and were closer than we had been in years. I ignored my sore ass, especially when, late in the comedy show, she reached down and started fiddling with my balls. She would rub my thigh, then play around with my balls or semi-hard cock, laugh along with the show, and gently caress my chest, brushing my nipples with her fingertips. Soon, I had a full erection that she made sure I maintained with her ministrations. I started to look forward to getting to bed. The day had been confusing and painful, but arousing. I had images of an impassioned lovemaking session, fed by the kinky foreplay that had been going on all day. But I was still imagining the old ways. When the show wrapped up, Sarah sighed, " Well, it's getting late." She killed the TV with the remote, then guided me up. She turned off the lamp, then grabbed my cock with her right hand. "Come on, big guy," she said. She started marching toward the bedroom ahead of me, still grasping my cock, leading me by it. Without letting go in the bedroom she threw the covers on the bed back, then pushed me down toward the bed. "On your back, big guy," she said. Lying on my back on my sore ass wasn't my preferred position, but I complied. I was amazed when my wife started to strip. As I said, I had grown to resent her physical bashfulness through our marriage. For her to strip in front of me with the lights on was practically unheard of. Yet she quickly peeled off her sweatshirt and unsnapped her bra. Those bountiful breasts bounced freely. Her nipples were already erect, and I cherished the rare sight. It took her only seconds to unsnap and peel off her jeans, then her thong, leaving her nude, with that bright red bush beckoning to me. It would come to me soon enough. Sarah jumped over me onto the bed. After all the pain, it felt heavenly to have her warm, voluptuous body snuggle up next to me. Her breasts pressed into my side, her left leg curled up over my outstretched legs, then she stretched that leg out and rubber her lovely foot against my feet. As her hand ran down my chest and belly until her fingers closed around my cock, she kissed me below my ear and bit the lobe lightly. "You looked so sexy bent over that stool," she breathed heavily. "And you looked even sexier with your ass bright red!" She crawled on top of me, still holding my now engorged cock. I was desperate for some pleasure to contrast all the pain and confusion that had taken place throughout the day. Sarah rubbed her body up and down over mine. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck and ears, which she always loved. She moved down a little, then guided my cock in to her hot and moist hole. Sarah sat up and started to ride me. I reached up and fondled those beautiful, big and pale breasts, but Sarah quickly took my hands, leaned forward, and pinned my arms down by my head as she continued to move back and forth, working my cock in and out of her. "Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!" she panted, working at a furious pace. I realized that I was being held down and fucked. My ass still burned, rubbing against the sheets below me, but that discomfort was mild compared to the pleasure pulsing through my loins and I built toward a climax I felt would come from deep within me. But suddenly she stopped. In an instant she climbed up my body, placing her knees on my arms where her hands had held them tight before. With her hands now free, she pulled the lips of her sex apart the thrust her dripping cunt onto my mouth. "Go for it, big guy," she said. "You know what to do. Get going!" I plunged my tongue as deeply into her as I could, licked around her opening and pulled on her inner lips with my lips. I could not reach her clit, though. She leaned back, keeping that prize from me and her opening over my mouth. She rubbed her clit furiously with her fingers and I felt her sex getting hotter and hotter. Her juices flowed freely, across my tongue and down into my throat. She gushed when she came, and I swallowed, both as a defensive move to keep from downing in her cum, and because I savored the taste, and the erotic power of her essence. She panted hard, and cried out, then pulled herself off my face, freeing my arms, and sliding down to lie next to me. Mercifully, she grabbed by cock, and with a few short strokes had me erupting all over myself. I could not see it; my eyes were closed. But I felt that same half-amused smile I saw when I last came, when my ass was so freshly burning. "Good boy," she whispered. "Now go and clean up and turn out the light for me please," she said. I did as I was told, as I had done all day, and perhaps in many more days to come. Silent Submission Ch. 01 Once again, I settle at your feet, no clothing adorning me, as per your wishes. I do not look up, but focus my gaze on the ground at your feet, shifting on my knees to gain comfort. I wait. You do not move, you say nothing, I barely hear you breathe, though the drumming of my heart may be drowning out the subtle sound. An eternity passes in but a few moments, and I agonize for some recognition that I am there. You exhale; the sound reverberates in my ears like a cannon fire, and I tense, awaiting the caress of your fingers, somewhere on my body, as is your custom. Searing flames lick my shoulder as your fingertips whisper, butterly-soft, over my skin, tracing down to my collarbone. Still, I do not raise my eyes from your feet. The flames lick along my neck, up the left side, then under my chin, and with almost no pressure at all, save your will, my chin i s lifted, and my eyes meet yours. Struggling to break the gaze, your will, and the intense penetration of your eyes hold me to it, and I can feel the crimson hue suffuse my cheeks, and then travel slowly from my face, down my neck, and onto my chest, my breasts flushing all the way to my hardening nipples. Neither of us speaks. When you are sure you have my attention and my gaze firmly held, you release my chin from the gentle vice. Butterfly touches of your fingertips trace down my neck once more, the heat radiating from your touch to create a furnace of my skin. A gasp escapes my lips as the electric shocks of your other hand carressing my right shoulder course through me... but still my eyes do not waver from yours. A brief, pleased smile plays across your mouth, and is gone. Slowly, so slowly I can envision the evolution of the earth, your soft fingertips and slightly coarser palms graze over my skin- around my shoulders and then slowly down each arm, some force of your will commanding my limbs into compliance. Suddenly, without my awareness of how they arrived there, my hands are at your lips, held firmly by your own hands while your mouth gifts me with soft kisses. The tenderness of your eyes and of the gesture thunders through me, and my eyes revert back to the floor. I know the look on your face even without seeing it- pleased and slightly disappointed all at once. You have shaken me, you have crumbled my will, and I am more yours now than when we began, an eternity ago. You release my hands from your gentle vice, and reach down, touching my lips, stroking gently over my mouth, without willing my gaze once more. I do not look, but close my eyes, the lashes resting softly on my cheeks, while my lips move to gently carress the tips of your fingers- softness moving over softness, an almost inaudible sigh flowing from them. Almost. You run your thumb over my lips, and push only slightly, gaining entry to my pink mouth, heat encircling the tip, and pleasure flushing through me. And still, I do not look up, do not even move, my body slave to your desire for stillness. Further, until your thumb touches the tip of my tongue, you push, and then you gently stroke my tongue until it strokes back, twisting around and licking, my lips still unmoving. Pleased, you remove your thumb, rubbing the wetness off on my lips before removing your touch altogether. My eyes are still focused on the floor. An eternity lapses as I wait, anticipating your next touch, my breathing becoming more shallow, the frustration of this neglect mounting in my heart and in my loins. And still I wait, my frustration now dripping slowly down my thighs. Just as I consider imploring you with my gaze, your touch returns, knocking the breath from me as your gentle hands almost imperceptibly caress the undersides of my breasts. It is all I can do to not cry out in orgasm, but I wrestle with myself, and gain control of the wave that threatened to overtake me. I have not received permission. You speak your first words to me: "Good girl." My mouth becomes a radiant grin, and I look up at you, knowing I may, as I have pleased you. You smile at me, and then without seeing your arms move, I feel your hands move on my breasts, stroking from the underside to the topside, tracing circles around my areolae. My nipples are so hard they are like to burst, and you, seizing an opportunity as you seize my nipples, pull me to you, your fingers clamped onto them like a vice. You hold me only an inch from your face, and an inch from orgasm, and you breathe your hot breath over my needy mouth. Yanking my nipples with your fingers, my body crashes forward, and our lips meet, my eyes clamping shut in the pain and pleasure of it all, a soft moan passing from my mouth to yours- my first sound. Once more, I wrestle with that wave, as your fingers molest my sensitive nubs, and you whisper into my mouth... Silent Submission Ch. 02 Yanking my nipples with your fingers, my body crashes forward, and our lips meet. My eyes clamp shut in the pain and pleasure of it all, and a soft moan passes from my mouth to yours- my first sound. Once more, I wrestle with that wave as your fingers molest my sensitive nubs, and you whisper into my mouth, "Do not fight, my Lilith." A moan of gratitude, and then my body convulses, threatening to break our embrace, as the orgasm rips through me. You do not allow it- you hold fast to both my nipples and my mouth, the pain and pleasure sending me over the edge until tears run down my cheeks and I am almost faint, at your feet. You release my mouth, but not my breasts, and you wait- wait for the waves to subside, for the shaking to stop, and for my breathing to regain some semblance of rhythm. When I have calmed, I once more look up at you, and you smile, releasing my breasts and taking my hands in yours. "That was splendid." I have pleased you once more. With almost no movement, you gesture for me to stand in front of you. I obey, rising to my feet to await your next inspiration. You lean forward and kiss the valley between my breasts, your hands coursing over my hips and belly, pleasuring in the smoothness of my skin. Again, with near-imperceptible movement, you command me, turning me so that my backside is facing you, and pushing me a step away. And then I feel you no more. I remain, horribly self-conscious, as the awareness that you are scrutinizing me gnaws at my brain, and yet, I don't dare move. An eternity passes, the hair on the back of my neck rising as a fear of your scrutiny enters my mind. I hear nothing save the minutes ticking by on the clock; I have lost count of them. Finally, I hear something... the creak of your chair, though I know not if you've risen, or simply shifted in it. Again, silence, nothingness, and I strain my eyes to the periphery of my vision, hoping for some sign of what is to come. My ears strain for the sound of your breathing, your movement, anything. And still nothing. Electric shocks course through my body as I suddenly feel your touch... your fingertips sliding over my hips once more, dragging your nails gently over my smooth white skin. Swirling in circles, they travel over my round parts... hips, ass, and tops of my thighs. Goosebumps follow your fingers, spreading out as rings in a pond, your fingers the soft stone causing such reaction. You are so silent I don't even hear you breathe, a vacuum of sound deafening me. Without the awareness that you are so close, you suddenly whisper in my ear that I am beautiful, and then take my left hand in your left, my right in your right, and then slide your hands up over my arms to my shoulder. You reverse the course of your hands, sliding once more down my arms, to my wrists, grasping them gently, and once again, with almost no force, you will my limbs into compliance. I find my arms rising slowly, out to the side, and then over my head. You stop my arms when my hands touch above my head, and then your hands are gone, you are gone. I wait, posed like this, for your return, the thought of moving, fleeting, in my mind. It seems that I wait for yet another eternity, before I feel your breath, once more, in my ear, shocking me out of my silence, a gasp escaping my lips. You have said nothing, merely breathed, and the goose bumps have coursed, once more, over my skin. I feel your fingers flitting about my wrists, and then a soft fabric slide about them, round and round... silk against my flesh. Lost in the sensation of the silk against my wrists, it does not occur to me that they are being bound... I only notice once you draw tight the fabric, and tie a secure knot. My arms are now bound above my head, having been raised in such a way that lowering them is made difficult by your binding. And then your hands are, once more, gone. A moment later, you slide into my peripheral vision, slowly slipping in front of me, so that we are face to face. You look into my eyes, and catch my gaze, securing my eyes on you. And then you move. Silent Submission Ch. 03 Sensation rips through me as your fingers find my hips once more... slide up to my belly, and then further, coursing in circles over my breasts. Hardly touching me, it feels as though you reach inside, and touch the bare nerve-endings, each new circle moving closer to my nipples, and each centimeter closer knocking more breath from me, my knees weakening. And still, despite the desire to close my eyes and relish such pleasure, I hold them to yours. Just before your fingers reach my nipples, you pull away, leaving me frustrated, biting my tongue to keep from gasping my dismay. Your eyes hold a wicked glint, and you back up, leaving a step between our bodies. Cruel man. You smile at me, and then remove yourself from my view, circling behind me to reclaim your chair, which you have moved closer to my behind. No words, no instructions direct me, and so I remain as I was: firmly standing, arms raised above me, the muscles of my shoulders beginning to throb. I hear you sit. I hear you shift. And I hear you exhale, though no touch lands on my skin. And then I feel you, light exploding in front of my eyes as your gentle, commanding fingers press against the join of my thighs, below my ass. A gentle press, and I am on the verge of orgasm, though I fight to not lose myself so quickly to it. Silence from you. You push a little more firmly, and my legs, obeying your silent command, part, allowing your fingers entrance to my center. You slide two fingers forward, brushing over my labia, gliding over the outer lips without pressure to reach between them. Retracting your fingers, you fold back one, and continue running the remaining one up the crack of my bum, to that spot that drives me wild... that spot at the top of the crack, where the two globes of my bottom join. You press. I moan. A loud "crack" as your hand meets with the roundness of my right ass cheek. "I did not tell you to make sound." I remain silent and still, ruing that I've been weak, despite the pleasure of the throbbing pain on my ass cheek. You pause, watching me, making sure that I will remain silent, remain still, save for your willed commands. A moment passes, and then your fingers return to the join of my thighs, sliding forward and back over my outer labia, your smooth fingers over my smooth sex, no hair impeding the travels of your fingers. Each course of your fingers over me encourages the heat, the moistness between my thighs, and while I know you can feel my pleasure, my readiness, you ignore it. You are not touching me for my pleasure but yours. My eyes close as I fight the urge to press down on your hand, forcing your fingers between my nether lips. Before I have the chance to lose or win the inner battle, your fingers are gone, leaving me feeling desperately abandoned. The chair creeks, and I know you have risen. I hear nothing, not even the air move around your body, as you move, and once again, your touch shocks me. You slide your hand around my neck, grasping my throat in your palm, your fingers squeezing the sides of my neck gently. Your other hand, moving slower than the earth around the sun, finally finds my left breast, pinching the nipple harshly, evoking a muted whimper from my mouth. I hear you breathe. Your left hand releases my left nipple, and suddenly, the right one is pinched in your grasp, another moan elicited from my lips. You breathe once more, and your whispers caress my ear... "I will enjoy this." The whole of me wants to melt to you, then and there, but I know better than to give in before you've even begun. You reach up, slowly sliding your fingers over my burning skin, your fingers coursing over my arms, and then directing them to rest in front of me, for the time being. I close my eyes momentarily, relief and thanks telepathically sent from me to you. In the moment my eyes are closed, you slide from behind me, and upon opening them, I find myself once more facing you. Your eyes are knowing, full of intent. Taking a step back, you regard me, your head tilted to the side, as your eyes course over my form, from head to toe. I fight the will to wince as you reach forward, and then smile softly as you simply trace your fingers over my cheek, pushing my hair out of my face, and tucking it behind my ear. Your soft fingers continue to slide over my my skin, along my jaw line, and then to my shoulder... a slight pressure indicates your wish for me to kneel. Silent Submission Ch. 04 Sinking to my knees, I lock my eyes on yours, attempting to read your intent, but it is masked from me. Once again, you stare down at me, your eyes playing over me, my eyes wide with anticipation. Your thumb once more finds my mouth, sliding over my dry lips... In an act of pure kindness, you lick your own thumb, and press it to my lips, sliding your moisture over them, a balm to their wanting. Closing my eyes in gratitude, I shift, and open my eyes to face the ground. Your will drags my eyes back up to you, and they roam slowly, taking in your body from feet to face... you are clothed, buttons and buckles and zippers blocking my eyes from your body, your skin. Finally, my eyes land on yours. You've noticed my gaze linger on your crotch, and the amused look in your eyes causes a blush to suffuse my face once more... though I dare not look away. Moving your chair so that it is in front of me, you settle again, your knees ajar, and beckon for me to shuffle forward, between them. Once I have moved, your eyes challenge me to do my worst, mocking my bound hands. Kneeling up, I reach forward, to lean my hands on your chest, and softly lick and suckle on your neck, my teeth nipping gently now and again. My bound hands, my handicap, have found a use, and are silently struggling with the buttons of your shirt, succeeding in loosing three of them. Sliding my tongue over your collarbone, I find my lips pressed against your sternum, my fingers continuing to struggle with your buttons. Four, five, six are undone, my teeth grasping your shirt, and pulling to each side, to bare your chest to me, my tongue hungering for the taste of your skin, the feel of your nipples in my mouth. Finally, every button has been released, and my teeth have pulled the shirt free of your chest and stomach, baring you to my eyes, my hands, and my mouth. I rain kisses on you, my hands, together, sliding over your smooth, sensitive skin, causing the goose bumps that once plagued me, to course over you. My tongue, craving the taste of your softness, follows my hands, tracing circles, and my hot breath torments you gently. You loll your head back, and allow me to continue in my pleasuring of you, tongue approaching nipples, tracing circles, closing in on your nubs, and then taking the left one in my mouth. Flicking it gently, I look up at your face, your eyes closed, and see the shadow of a smile on your lips. I repeat with the right. Gently, so soft you hardly feel them, distracted as you are by my mouth, my hands slide together down your chest, your stomach, and find the waist of your trousers, the buckle of your belt. As I fumble with it, your eyes snap open, and you gaze down at me, challenging me to do it... to open it, and to do it quickly. I do so. Another flicker of a smile plays over your lips, and I fumble your button open. A smirk, then, as you realize my dilemma... the zipper... Grinning up at you wickedly, I stoop my head, and hold your waistline in my teeth, pulling down on the zip with my hands. My resourcefulness pleases you, and you run your fingers gently through my hair, as my fingers play over the waistline of your underwear, sliding from the left side, across to the right, tucking my fingertips gently under the elastic of your shorts. You simply wait. I watch your face as my hands dip into the front of your boxers, and as I feel your sex throb under my gentle touch, your gaze holds mine. I hear your voice before I even see your lips move... "Show me... good service, my Lilith." Blushing up at you, I pull your cock out from your shorts, held firmly between my two hands, and I kneel up to kiss your mouth deeply, before sliding down your body to focus my attentions on your hardness. Never taking my eyes from yours, I slowly stretch my tongue out, my hot breath meeting the head of your cock before my touch, and a shiver coursing through you as I slide my tongue slowly, gently, over the length of your sex. Crooking your finger under my chin, you pull me up into a straight-backed kneeling position. You are dissatisfied with something. After scrutinizing me for a moment, you lean forward, ignoring the pulsing hardness of your cock, and untie my wrists. For a brief moment, I believe I am free to use my hands, but you stand, your sex mere centimeters from my face, and circle behind me. Pulling my arms to you, you secure them tightly, and then resume your place in front of me. Silent Submission Ch. 05 "Continue." Shuffling forward a few inches, I slowly, painfully slowly, circle my lips around your cock, and slide down your length, my mouth taking you in, tongue swirling around you. My eyes remain locked on yours. Yours remain locked on my mouth, watching your sex disappear behind my supple lips. In. Achingly slowly, I pull back, releasing all but the head of your shaft, before swirling my tongue around it, and quickly plunging my head down, your cock pushing into my throat, my cheeks hollowing as I suck more ardently. My eyes now break the gaze, closing in the pleasure of your taste... the heat, the drop of precum landing on my tongue... Shocking me into moans, your fingers find my hair, twining in it, grasping it, strands sliding out between them... and yet you are not harsh. Ever gentle, you guide my head, pushing your cock deeper into my throat, my eyes focused on you as I suck more vigorously, swirling my tongue more quickly, moaning around your cock as my own pleasure in this act moves me towards orgasm. Before I can even struggle against it, you pull yourself from my lips and rise once more, leaving me gasping in desperate frustration, my mouth feeling utterly abandoned. Circling around me once more, you kneel behind me, your hands sliding over the globes of my ass, gently coaxing out those goose bumps again, before you roughly push me forward, so that my body rests on your chair, the muscles of my arms screaming against the stretch. Your hands, once so gentle, roughly grasp my hips, and knowing I am ready for you, you press the head of your cock against my slick entrance. Hesitating only a moment, you push into me, neither quickly nor slowly, but steadily, until your hips meet the resistance of my ass. I am already fighting against the orgasm that threatens to crash through me, and you know it. "Not yet, My Lilith, not yet". Whimpering my compliance, I fight harder, trying to ignore the building pressure from the pleasure your thrusting induces in me, especially as your arms have reached forward, and your fingers have found my nipples. Your strong hands cup my breasts, pressing them to gain leverage, as your body continues to rock behind me, your sex swelling inside of me, my sex tightening around you. My nipples scream in pleasured pain as you ravage them with your insistent fingers. We do not last long at this pace, each of us careening towards a terminal orgasm. Your hands release my breasts, and retake their position on my hips, your fingers digging into my flesh, bruising me. Grunting your pleasure, I feel your cock swell once more, and continue to fight, as I do not have your permission... but my resolve is weakening, and my moans alert you to that fact. "Cum, my girl, cum for Me" Letting loose with a cry, my whole body convulses as I let go, allowing the waves of orgasm to roll through me, one, two, three simultaneous orgasms ripping through me as explosions of blue and red and yellow flash before my eyes. One final orgasm knocks me forward as I feel your heat shoot into my depths, filling me to the brim, and leaking down my thighs. Your cock twitches inside of me, as you fill me with your seed. You continue to thrust, though more slowly now, and presently, you stop. Your hands still grip my hips in a vice, digging your fingers into me, your nails drawing a small amount of blood. Neither of us moves, and as we slowly catch our breath, both of us somewhat faint from the exertion... Presently, you lean forward and kiss the small of my back, before pulling your sex from mine, and then guide my arms, so I am kneeling up. You regain your place in your chair, and tilt my face up to yours, smiling down at me, pleased. "One more service I ask of you, mine submissive" Searching your face, I know what it is you want of me. Leaning forward, I run my tongue over your sex, taking you once more in my mouth, licking every drop of our mixed juices from your cock, and then, releasing your cock, I lick your balls, your pelvis, removing all traces of our deed. When I have finished, I kneel back onto my feet, looking up at you. Leaning down, you reach around me, untie my wrists, and take my hands in yours, kissing them gently. You kiss my mouth softly, tasting us on my lips, and then settle back in your chair, and I hug your knees tightly, while you stroke my hair. "Very good, my girl. Very good."