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On Wed, 25 May 2005 14:18:05 GMT, pmc281@sbcglobal.net wrote:
>Reposted as collected. Authors not wishing to
>be reposted please contact MstrPat at pats_dungeon@hotmail.com
>and I will delete/not post your stories.
>
>From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
>Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
>Subject: BETH'S INTRODUCTION TO SUBMISSIVENESS
>Date: 20 Jul 1996 17:55:48 GMT
>Organization: Netcom
>
>This is the first chapter of a story, completely fictional, which
>contains
>explicit sexual acts of pain and submission. If this sort of thing
>offends you,
>please delete the file immediately. I have tried to capture the
>moments shared
>by this couple in a meaningful way. This is their life-style, like it
>or not.
>Your comments, good or bad, about the content, style, etc would be
>appreciated.
>I know there are lots of Davids and Beths out there, and while these
>two are
>only figments of my imagination, Beth is my idea of the perfect woman,
>though
>many, I am sure, will find the story to be absolutely sexist.
>
> Master J.
>
>
> Beth's Introduction to Submissiveness
>
> By Master J.
>
> We had spent the weekend in a sexual shoot-out with Bill and Joan,
>and I discovered much about this woman I was only on the verge of
>learning about. During the first hour of our drive back to Jersey,
>Beth
>was silent, almost morose. I decided to let her stay in whatever mood
>she was in and let her get out of it herself. She apparently had a lot
>to think about. She wore the same blue denim skirt she had worn much
>of
>the weekend, sans stockings, a dark blue sweater, and sneakers without
>socks. She shed the sneakers during the early part of the trip, threw
>them in the back seat, curled her feet under her buttocks, and put on
>the same, sullen look she had started out with. I could sense that her
>mind was working intensely.
> Finally, after almost an hour, she spoke. "David, can I ask you a
>question?"
> "Of course."
> "Why did I like what happened to me with you and Bill and Joan
>this
>weekend?"
> "Did you really like it, or are you saying that because you feel
>guilty about what
>you did?"
> She turned pensive for a moment. "No, I really did get into it,
>David. It's like nothing I would have ever imagined. Especially of
>myself. It's like a light bulb went off in my head and, bang, I'm a
>different person. How do you explain wanting to be dominated like I
>was
>back there. I was really into it. And when I came," she continued
>with a deep red blush, "it was like an explosion. I was turned on so
>completely by the experience it's unbelievable."
> "I guess there has always been a part of me that wanted to
>dominate
>someone, to control them completely. So it was a turn-on for me, as
>well," I said.
> Beth smiled. "Great minds think alike," she laughed.
> "Do you think we both changed this weekend?"
> Her mind searched for an answer to my question. "Yes, David, I
>do.
>Can you live with the woman you created?"
> It was my turn to smile. "I can't live without her."
> The rest of the trip was spent in small talk. A few times, she
>let
>her skirt ride pretty well up her fleshy thighs, but being shy about a
>trucker looking into the car, she quickly rearranged it, offering me
>only maddeningly quick but delightfully sexy "beaver shots" of her
>panty-clad crotch, being sure to look at my eyes whenever she did to
>insure that her little "accidents" did not go unnoticed. We arrived at
>my condo around 7:00 p.m. and carried the bags in. When I carried the
>last bag through the door, I tossed it to the floor. I felt tired, but
>not exhausted. Beth was in the kitchen, fetching lemonades for us. I
>moved to the living and sat down on my reclining chair. She came into
>the room carrying the drinks, smiling sweetly, and handed me one. She
>turned her back and prepared to sit on the sofa.
> "Where do you think you're going?" I asked.
> "Just to sit down," she said, a quizzical look on her face.
> "Put the drink down and turn around," I said in a firm tone of
>voice.
> She looked at me again, with that knowing look and sexy smile on
>her face. She placed the drink on the coffee table and turned to face
>me. Her mouth was opened slightly. Her hair was slightly disheveled
>from the windy ride in my car. The dark blue sweater was much too
>loose
>to do anything for her breasts. Her legs were pale, almost white, but
>pleasantly slender and graceful. She carried herself well for "older"
>woman of 28.
> I looked straight into her eyes and said, "Take off your sweater,"
>in a soft but commanding voice.
> She looked back at me for a quick moment, somewhat startled,
>searching my eyes for the sincerity of my command. When she realized I
>was perfectly serious, her
>visage changed completely. She seemed to turn from a friendly, happy-
>go-lucky young
>woman into one who wants nothing more than to be dominated completely
>by
>her master.
> "You mean, here, in front of you, just like that?" Her
>questioning
>voice belied her deepest desires to do as I had commanded, to do
>anything that I
>commanded.
> "Just like that...." I replied softly, gesturing with an upturned
>palm in the direction
>of the bulky sweater.
> She shrugged her shoulders, as if my request was no big deal,
>grasped the
>bottom of the sweater, and drew it up, over her head, catching it
>slightly in her hair before tossing it nonchalantly on a vacant chair.
>Her white cotton bra was too plain for my tastes, though the tenseness
>of her nipples was already apparent through the thin gauze. Later, we
>would go shopping and I would buy her the sexiest underthings I could
>find. Once done, she looked at me, not straight on, but sort of out of
>the corner of her eye with her head slightly cocked.
> "I'll hold your bra for you," I said matter-of-factly.
> She blinked her eyes once, then, still eyeing me from the side,
>reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She made no attempt to
>cover herself up as her girlish breasts sprung free from their
>confinement and the bra straps glided silently down her arms. She took
>two steps forward and, bending slightly at the waist, handed me the
>cotton garment, her face blushing just slightly. I took the bra from
>her with my left hand while I grasped her wrist with my right hand,
>preventing her from straightening up.
> "There is nothing that you won't do for me--nothing at all," I
>said, gripping her wrist tightly, looking straight into her soft,
>brown,
>delightfully expressive eyes.
> Her eyes searched mine for a brief moment. "I know," she
>whispered, ending her words with her mouth open in an inviting 'O'.
> She was mine so completely it almost unnerved me. "Go to the
>corner of the room and raise your skirt up to your waist," I commanded,
>letting go of her wrist. She strolled, half-naked, to the corner I had
>pointed to and did as I had told her, gathering the blue denim in her
>hands and exposing the silky-white panties I had asked her to wear that
>morning. I let her stay like that, facing the corner, for a good five
>minutes while I studied the smooth curves of her ass, the tightly
>clinging undies, and long, sleek, creamy-smooth whiteness of her subtly
>parted legs. Without my telling her, she seemed to understand that she
>must remain thus, without speaking, without a word of protest, until I
>deemed it differently. To imbed this unspoken requirement in her mind,
>I moved about the room as if she weren't there, leaving her standing
>there like a little school girl being punished.
> Finally, I moved behind her, close enough to kiss her soft, brown
>hair, but didn't touch her. "Have you been a bad little girl?" I
>whispered into her ear.
> "Yes," she whimpered.
> "What have you done, Beth?"
> "I let Bill take me," she replied with an obvious shiver from head
>to toe.
> "You let him put his cock in something that was rightfully mine,
>didn't you?"
> "Yes," she said, half-sobbing.
> "Would you have let him shove his cock in your ass if he had asked
>you to?"
> "Please... don't make me answer."
> "Would you have sucked his cock?" I persisted.
> "Please, David.... I...."
> Wanting to hurt her just enough to make my point, I reached around
>and grasped her left breast with one hand, flattening it against her
>chest as she gasped out loud. I then located the turgid nipple with my
>thumb and index finger, squeezed the protuberance until Beth cried in
>pain, then pulled it outward from her breast, stretching it to its
>limit
>as she cocked her head back into the cradle of my neck and moaned in
>agony and pleasure.
> "Bad girls must be punished!" I exclaimed, still holding the
>nipple
>tightly, while I palmed her panty-clad ass with my free hand as she
>continued to hold her skirt up all the way to her waist.
> I ran my hand all over the back of her silky-white undies,
>squeezing the firm fleshiness beneath. Her buns were warm and tight
>and
>felt glorious to the touch. She gasped when I shoved my hand inside
>the
>garment and grabbed a solid hunk of her behind. She pressed her ass
>back toward me, saying, without words, how much she desired to be
>punished for her transgressions of the weekend.
> I released her nipple from its confinement, letting it snap back
>into place, withdrew my hand from inside her panties, then knelt behind
>her, my face only inches from her delectable buns. I planted a kiss on
>each sweet cheek, over the soft panty-tops, then eased my fingers into
>the elastic top of the undies and slowly drew them down, exposing the
>perfectly divided split pumpkin, creamy smooth in texture and
>alabaster-
>white in appearance, full and rounded, seeming to be begging for
>release
>by whip or strap. Her flimsy panties remained encircled around her
>thighs as I returned to her luscious cheeks, this time with two hands,
>and kneaded the soon to be defiled flesh with my fingertips.
> Beth's moans conceded her state of arousal. She was putty in my
>hands now, and I shaped the halves of the twin spheres to my liking,
>pushing the flesh outward, upward, side to side, prying the cheeks
>apart
>from time to time to expose the pink rosebud, so tiny and hidden that I
>remained awed by my earlier penetration of it. I took my time and
>examined every inch of the fleshy globes, studied the anal button until
>its vision became locked in my mind. The buttocks were still flecked
>slightly with the results of Bill's earlier whipping.
> As I stared at her behind, I said "Your ass was made to be
>whipped!
>It's perfect, you know. I think I am going to finish what Bill
>started.
>Would you like that, Beth?"
> "YES!" she blurted, pushing the buns back toward me in an open
>invitation to have at them. "Oh, David, I need to be whipped!!! I
>need
>it so bad! I've been such a bad girl."
> "Don't move--I'll be right back."
> In the dim light of the early evening I went into the woods behind
>my condo and found what I believed to be the perfect pacifier--a long,
>thin freshly cut birch rod, about three feet long and a quarter-inch
>thick. I wanted something that would sting like the devil and remain
>etched in her memory from this time forward. I didn't intend to cut or
>mark her in any way, but I knew I could wield the birch in such a
>manner
>as to make her remember this evening forever. "Thin is cruel," I had
>once read in a book about flagellation, "but only if it is done with
>malice."
> Returning to the condo, I found Beth exactly where I had left her,
>standing in the corner, skirt raised to her waist, panties lowered to
>her thighs, completely naked from the waist up. She was smart enough
>not to turn her head and look at me. Later, when our relationship
>deepened, I would learn to soak the birch rods in oil before using them
>on her, intensifying their sting tenfold. Tonight, I would lead her
>slowly down paths she had never dreamed of.
> "I want all of your clothes off. When I whip you from now on you
>will always be naked. Do you understand?"
> "Yes, master."
> It sounded odd to hear her call me "Master," but that's exactly
>what I was--her MASTER. She was my little slave! I have never asked
>her where she picked up the term. I surmise in a book somewhere and it
>stuck with her. It didn't matter, I watched her stand in the corner,
>shed her skirt, lower her panties the rest of the way down her legs,
>and dutifully clasp her hands behind her back. Having finished, she
>put
>her cute pug nose back into the corner and waited for my next move.
> "Open your legs more!" I ordered. "It's more becoming of your
>nudity."
> The parted legs revealed the brown curls of her bush near the top
>of her legs, just below the crack of her ass. She looked so
>vulnerable,
>so sexy! I made her stay like that for the better part of half an hour
>while I did nothing but stare at her fragility from the serenity of my
>easy chair. She seemed almost too fragile to apply the cruel birch rod
>to.
> Finally, it was she who broke the icy silence. "David, are you
>going to whip me?" she asked, her tone revealing a little impatience
>with me.
> "In time," I said softly, moving closer to her and running the
>lower half of the birch rod between the supple cheeks of her ass,
>splitting the halves of the pumpkin with it.
> "Oh!" she cried softly, startled by the thinness of the wood.
> "Shhh, it's a birch rod," I whispered in her ear. "Are you sure
>you want to be whipped?"
> "It will hurt?" she asked.
> "More than what Bill did," I replied in all honesty.
> "You will stop if I ask?"
> "You know I will. But I don't think you'll ask." I continued
>running the birch rod up and down, inside the dividing crevice of her
>ass cheeks.
> She pressed her behind into the rod, invitingly. "I think you're
>right, David. I really want to be whipped. I can't explain it.
>There's something inside me..."
> "We shall see," I interrupted. "Open your mouth."
> "Why?"
> I touched the top of her shoulder with my fingertips and whispered
>into her ear. "I am going to have to gag you for this. I don't want
>the neighbors calling the cops."
> "How do I tell you to stop if it hurts too much?"
> "Just shake your head back and forth. I'll stop. Do you trust
>me?"
> She turned her head back in my direction, looked at me for a
>moment, and then, instead of answering, she merely closed her eyes and
>opened her mouth to accept the gag. I had nothing to use save the
>panties she had just shed, but they served the purpose well. I stuffed
>them well into her mouth, crotch first, so she might taste her own
>juices on the silky material. I then brought her to the edge of the
>sofa, her hands still clasped behind her back, and had her place her
>tummy over it. The position offered her ass to me in all its glory.
> Beth was a true submissive, every man's dream. She had complete
>trust in me and I knew I could never leave her permanently marked or
>scarred. I was capable of playing mind-games with her, but her body,
>outwardly, would remain inviolate. It was too beautiful to mark--her
>firm, full buttocks were twin spheres of gorgeous, alabaster flesh,
>perfectly rounded in just the right places, a pleasure to touch or
>view.
>Her breasts were not large by any means, but they were capped by coral-
>colored, thick, pointed nipples that extended outward in their hardened
>state and were, I would find out soon enough, wonderfully sensitive to
>pain stimuli, so much so, in fact, that she would often place nipple-
>clips on them before one of our "sessions" in order to enhance their
>sensitivity.
> I drew the birch rod over Beth's proffered buns and ran it back
>and
>forth, like a violin bow, for several moments, toying with her nerve
>endings and building her anticipation of what was about to happen. Her
>forehead was buried in the sofa cushion, with the silky-white panties
>sticking out of the corners of her mouth. I lifted the rod several
>inches away from the globes and held it there, watching Beth clench her
>ass cheeks in anticipation of my first lash. Instead, I laid the rod
>back across her behind and, as I pressed it slightly into the pale
>skin,
>began moving it slowly in a path from the top of her ass to the middle
>of her thighs, teasing the nerve endings while delegating without words
>the boundaries the rod might enjoy.
> "Open your legs more!" I ordered, then watched her labia part
>stickily between them. Her delicately hued, pink-colored vaginal
>entrance was filled with transparent juices, with a few of the hairs
>that had been surrounding the opening sporting tiny gobs of off-white
>"cum-drops". Her toes barely touched the carpet. Her legs were sleek
>and well-proportioned. Her back was already warm with a thin veneer of
>glistening perspiration. Her breathing was slightly tremulous, a sign
>of her anticipation.
> I merely flicked my wrist for the first stroke which landed right
>in the middle of her buttocks with a louder-than-it-hurt crack of the
>thin wood against the supple flesh, rippling the skin only slightly and
>bringing but a quietly muffled "MMMFFFFF" from behind Beth's
>panty-gag. A thin, slightly pink line appeared almost immediately
>where
>the bow had stuck the violin. Her toes were curled now as they pressed
>harder into the carpet.
> Buoyed by Beth's stoic acceptance of her first taste of the rod,
>I
>reached back and flicked the pain-giver three times in rapid
>succession,
>each of them with the same intensity, but all of them just a bit harder
>
>than the first. I was careful to apply each stroke one below the
>other.
>Having offered the last little cut, I stopped to take in Beth's
>reaction. This time she made absolutely no sound, to my surprise, but
>with each lovely ripple of her ass cheeks she drove her curled toes
>into
>the carpet in quick, staccato movements, her little way of trying to
>fend off the increasing pain in her snow-capped buttocks.
> I ran my fingertips over the light-colored stripes that I had just
>placed on her voluptuous backside. Her skin was warm to the touch; she
>shivered slightly at the tinge of gentleness. "Oh how your ass was
>made
>to be whipped!" I exclaimed as I traced one thin line from side to side
>with my index finger.
> Her breathing was becoming a bit more labored now, with pronounced
>exhalations through her chest and nostrils. I pried the lower half of
>the cheeks apart, exposing the anal ring, and touched the crinkled
>opening lightly with the tip of the birch rod. "MMM.....MMM!"
>whimpered
>Beth behind the gag, afraid that I might penetrate the tiny orifice
>with
>the thin wood. Instead, I let the cheeks bounce back to normalcy, as I
>withdrew the rod from the doorway, making a mental note that I would
>once again test the unbelievable resiliency of the opening with my cock
>later in the evening.
> With my left palm resting right at the crest of her buttocks, just
>over the top of the crack of her ass, I drove the birch rod across the
>tender flesh with a loud crack, followed immediately by an agonizing,
>softly muffled shriek from deep within Beth's throat. At the
>same time, she raised both feet off the floor and flailed them in the
>air for several seconds. It was obvious that this stroke had been a
>real "stinger."
> When she shook her head from side to side, in consonance with her
>toes, I thought she was telling me to stop. "Too hard?" I asked as I
>reached back and pulled the panties out of her mouth so I could hear
>her
>reply.
> "NO!" she blurted as she panted loudly. "Oh, it hurts, it hurts,
>it hurts!" she cried, still flailing her legs. "But please don't stop.
>I can feel it building deep inside me, David." She breathed heavily.
> I sought to return the panties to her mouth. "No, please," she
>begged, "I want you to hear me after you whip me. Can you do it a bit
>harder?"
> "Suit yourself. Just remember the neighbors." I reached further
>back this time, goaded by her desire to feel even more pain, and drove
>the birch rod smartly into the area where her lower ass cheeks met the
>top of her thighs, an area I knew to be more sensitive to pain stimuli.
>I was right. She let out a long, agonizing howl, fortunately into
>the sofa cushion, and flailed her legs again, her heels actually
>kicking
>her own buttocks
>in the process.
> Beth's scream lasted a good ten seconds, punctuated by gasps for
>breath, followed (incredibly!) by, "Oh, YES! That's good. It hurts so
>good!
>Give me more, Master!"
> The thin, red streak that covered each side of her lower buttocks
>looked as
>painful as it must have felt. It welted almost immediately, testifying
>to the intensity of
>the stroke. How could she want more? Where was her limit? Was there
>a
>limit? If there was, I needed to test it, and she was begging me to do
>so. So, without warning, I gave her four well-aimed lashes, all of
>them
>bitingly harsh, in quick succession, without pausing, each being
>delivered to a different area of her upturned ass. To my amazement,
>she
>made absolutely no sound until the last stroke was delivered, with an
>extra fierceness. To the contrary, with each lash she seemed to raise
>her behind higher in an effort to accept the searing pain. With the
>final lash, she let out with a long "AHHHHHHHH!" that I knew at once
>was
>a mixture of pain and pleasure.
>
>