## Archive-name: evolution_of_a_submissive1-4

From: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom)

Subject: Story--Evolution of a Submissive--Part 1 of 4

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

Evolution of a submissive....... She was obviously agitated. She sat in a low chair next to a glass-topped coffee table, her legs crossed. Her foot hadn't stopped tapping since he'd walked in. A crumbled cigarette pack lay on the table next to a pack of matches, glass ashtray, and a second pack of cigarettes. She lit a cigarette and checked her watch. She scanned the room, and he could tell it wasn't the first time, eyes lingering over the registration desk and the entry doors. Her eyes passed over him and continued around the room. She sighed and let her head fall back against the chair.
He approached the registration desk and dropped his bag at his feet.

As he checked in, he was aware of the sounds of the room behind him. The muffled clink of glasses, the muted sounds of laughter. Someone was running their fingers over the keys of a piano, warming up. He heard the murmur of conversation from the diners and drinkers seated in the restaurant behind the brass railing. The girl behind the counter was taking along time checking his reservation, so he turned to see if the woman in the chair had found what she was looking for. Her face was turned away from him, but he was mesmerized by the sight of her hand idly fingering the neck of the lowcut dress she was wearing. He was amazed at the way her foot could move in such a fast, staccato motion, yet her hand moved so languidly.

He shook his head slightly to break the spell. She wasn't beautiful, or anything...just so damned hypnotic. He tried to concentrate on anything but the sight of her fingers under the edge of the flimsy fabric, tracing up and down over the top curve of her breast. He could tell that she enjoyed the sensation, because he could see her nipples straining against the silk. He quickly scanned the rest of her body and what she was wearing...black silk dress that hit just above the knee, black silk heels, cream colored pantyhose...no, wait, he thought, catching a glimpse of black strap where her thigh rose from having her legs crossed, stockings...she wore pearls at her throat, ears and in her dark blonde hair.

She turned her face back around, and their eyes met. Her eyebrow and the corners of her lips raised slightly as she saw how he was looking at her. The fingers at the top of her dress dipped a little lower, exposing more of her skin. She smiled at him then ran the tip of her tongue around her lips. He rolled his eyes and looked back at her. Her hand had moved from the neckline of the dress to the hemline, slowly inching it up her leg. He cast a quick look around the lobby, but no one seemed to be watching her but him. He watched her hand disappear under her dress, and when he saw her fingers again, they were glistening. She locked her eyes on his as she lifted those fingers to her mouth, and one at a time, licked them off.
He could see the flush rising on her face and neck.

God, he thought, this woman is hot, and wet, and performing for *me*. She picked up a fresh cigarette, lit it, and dropped the spent match into the ashtray next the cigarette that had burned itself out. She turned her face away again as the waiter drew her attention from across the brass railing. "Just the check, please" he heard her say to the waiter. He smiled to himself as he saw the kid trying to catch a glimpse of her chest as she leaned forward to speak to him. No class, he thought to himself, these kids have no class.

He was broken out of his reverie by the clerk handing him back his credit card, and giving him his room key. He sighed, and turned to walk to the elevators, knowing he'd probably not get the chance to see this vixen again. He turned his head in her direction, wanting one more glimpse before he went upstairs to his room. She was gone. But her cigarettes, the matches, and a room key were on the table.

"I believe you left these in the lobby...they were near where you were sitting...." the concierge said as he handed her a brown bag. He added, "the gentleman in 247 turned them in and indicated they belonged to you".

"Oh, my, ok...thanks..thank you" was all she could get out...He turned abruptly and walked down the hall. She followed his form for as long as she could while closing the door...she hadn't even thought about what was in the package or whether it indeed contained her items.

He hadn't handed her the 3 separate items--one of her room keys, cigarettes and matches which she had left behind. But, she was too startled to take the time at the door to look inside the package. She walked to the bed, sat on the edge, and opened the bag. Inside, she found a red satin box tied with a white, quarter-inch ribbon, the ends of which were sealed to the box with a teal-green wax seal imprinted with a single rose stem. As she sat there wondering if this box contained her property, there was another knock on the door. She set the box aside. Again, upon opening the door, she was met by the concierge who this time handed her an envelope and a long stem rose. "I have been asked to deliver these to you by the front desk." Blushing, she quickly took the envelope and rose, uttered "wait a second, please", turned and walked across the room for her purse. She returned with a folded bill (she hoped she had grabbed a single in her haste) and handed it to the gentleman. "Thank you, ma'am."

Again, returning to the bed she sat down. As she held the rose and lifted it to her nose to smell it, she couldn't help but get some sensation that something was different about it. It was a wonderful pink shade. Obviously healthy. Strong stem. The petals just beginning to open. But....something was different. She set it aside. Remembering the manners taught to her by her very proper family, she decided that the card must be opened before any 'presents.' So, she carefully ran her fingers under the flap of the envelope...it yielded easily to the gentle pressure, having been only marginally sealed. Inside was an invitation-like card...no folds. Embossed in the upper left corner on its white surface was the same rose imprint as on the wax seal. Written in cursive, in what appeared to be ink of the same teal shade as the wax, were the words: "Please bring yourself, the gift and the rose. Otherwise, don't change a thing." She began to tremble.

The gift? What gift? Is this a mistake? The box! The edges of the bow reflected the shakiness in her hands as she lifted the box from the bed and held it in front of her. A wave of fear washed over her. At the same time, she could feel herself getting damp...her palms, the small of her back and between her thighs. Unconsciously, she crossed her legs. She alternately glanced from the box to the card to the rose. Something different....a gift?...what is it about the rose?...maybe it's me...it's late...she re-read the card. No, it was clear....bring... the gift AND the rose. But, bring it to where? How embarrassing it would be to arrive at the wrong destination. She pictured herself standing in front of the wrong door, wearing what she was wearing, holding a satin box and a rose and being greeted by a couple of drunken conventioneers...or worse yet, some woman awaiting her husband's return from an errand. Her mind suddenly recreated her whole life's experiences of embarrassing moments. Then the further realization hit her....what if I get to the correct room? That may not be any better. 'I need a cigarette' she thought. Damn! DAMMIT! DAMMIT! I left them behind. Are they in the box? No, she couldn't open it. It was futile, but she looked inside the brown paper bag which she knew was empty...an addiction, combined with nervousness, will lead one to do inconsequential yet utterly useless things.

Uncrossing her legs, she set everything aside. Closing her eyes, she gripped the edge of the bed. This had been one frustrating evening. First, waiting in that lobby for her brother, who never arrived. Secondly, leaving her things there. Third, seeing the gentleman at the lobby desk whom she flirted with across the room...licking her lips seductively and toying with her neckline as she eyed him. Now, it's frustrating at a different level....no cigarettes...no answers...and that rose....something.....a deep breath...then two. Opening her eyes at the same time she aggressively stood up, she headed across the room to the vanity mirror in the bath. She reached for the comb...a couple quick runs through her hair...'looks pretty good' she thought. "Now, where's my lipstick" she said out loud. Then, suddenly, she thought about the note and her decision was made....'don't change a thing.' She returned to the bed, picked up the card and the box in one hand, the rose in the other and headed out the door. Turning right, she began the countdown towards 247....for the moment, she forgot her fear. She did have the presence of mind to note that in this section of the building, the room doors were farther apart...suites, she thought.

Emboldened by her new-found determination, she raised her hand to knock on the door as she was still taking that final step. She caught the knock short, however, when she saw another white card of similar stock but smaller, attached to the door just beneath the room number. Written on it (in the odd hallway light, it MIGHT have been teal ink) were the words "Come in. Lock the door behind you." Again, the fear returned. She reached for the doorknob. As she attempted to turn it, she met the resistance one would meet with a permanently locked exterior doorset. The door did give, however, as it hadn't been fully latched. She pushed it open and entered the dimly lit room. As her eyes adjusted, and she closed the door behind her, she could feel her heart begin to both race and pound. She was in the living room section of the suite...and in the candlelit room she could see a couch with a bag resting next to it...and which looked familiar to her from the lobby, and on the endtable next to the couch there appeared to be a key and cigarette pack. To one side of the room was a doorway which led, presumably, to the bath. The door was ajar. The room wasn't dark...it seem to have the same light level as this main room. Against the wall and next to a closed door on the other side of the room was a desk upon which there was an ornately decorated pen standing upright in a holder in a wooden base. Next to that stacked neatly but for the top one were more of the white note cards. There was a vase with a single rose on the left of the desk. She was drawn to the desk because that was the location of the lit candles. She could see that written on the top card was: "Your bath is ready. Take your gift and the rose with you." 'AND' again! She could feel a fear like she had never felt. She could feel her knees give ever so slightly. She was, curiously, quite sexually aroused also--so much so that she could suddenly smell her perfume more strongly--perhaps due to the utter chemical fear and excitement coursing through her. Ignoring her fear, however, and following the impulse which brought her this far, she turned and walked to the bath. She entered the mist filled, warm room. The large tub was filled to the brim with a thick, rich white foam. The mirror and brass hardware on the sink were covered with an even mist. Two pink candles burned on the vanity. Next to them champagne was iced and sitting in a brass-trimmed expensive looking wooden bucket. Two fluted glasses, with roses etched into the sides, stood to the side. A card leaned against the stem of one glass. "Remove your clothing and all jewelry. Place it outside the door. You may remove the ribbon from your gift and use that to tie your hair up." She was beyond the point of no return. She did as directed. The wax snapped sharply off the ribbon, yet didn't break. She set the seal aside. Unknotting the ribbon, she took the length of it and tied her hair up. The satin box remained unopened as she put her clothing outside the door, neatly placing her jewelry on top of the folded clothes. She closed the door and cautiously tested the water with her foot before slipping into the tub. She looked across the room at the rose and box sitting on the counter. She began to relax. Thirty minutes passed.

Suddenly, as she was leaning back, she noticed the knob turning. As the door opened, he (yes, it was him!) entered. He glanced at her...giving her that same look as in the lobby. He wondered to himself where her hands were at that moment. He could see a fear in her eyes. He carried a rose in his hand... and set it aside the one she had brought in...then opened the door to the closet in the room. His eyes remained fixed on hers as he reached past the opened door and brought out a white silk floor-length robe. Moving closer to the tub with it, he held out his hand...she reached up for it as he assisted her in standing. Mounds of suds slid slowly down her body as she stood nude before him. His eyes did not leave hers. He said not a word. After she stepped out of the tub, he released her hand and then held the robe up as she slid one arm in. Turning around, she brought the other arm to the vacant sleeve. He reached around her and tied the robe loosely with the sash. He stood for a long 5 seconds admiring his work. He untied the ribbon holding her hair and gently arranged her hair over her shoulders. He placed the ribbon in his pocket. He reached around her, took the satin box and handed it to her. She slowly opened it...and inside lay a teal velvet choker...the clasp of which was a gold hook which could engage any of the 5 pearls. He placed it around her neck...and adjusted it to the second pearl. He then handed her the roses, poured two glasses of champagne, took her by the hand and led her out of the bath, across the living room and into the candlelit bedroom. On the way she noted a few things....her clothing was gone, the cigarette pack and key likewise, as was the black bag. Additionally, the vase on the desk was now empty...the second rose was apparently from there.

Leading her to the side of the bed, he handed her one glass of the champagne, and not saying a word, raised his glass against hers...They sipped. She clenched the roses. Taking the glass from her hand, he set them down on the nightstand. He helped her onto the bed....she moved to the center and lay on her back. He sat next to her, reached down to the sash and untied it. He opened the robe and exposed her. She could feel her grip tighten on the roses. Next, he took out the white ribbon and tied it around her left wrist and knotted it in a bow. He took 'his' rose from her hand...and kissing her beginning at her neck....peeled one petal off the flower to mark each kiss. When he was finished, there were petals scattered across her breasts, tummy, and a few were falling off her thighs...some landing just beneath her womanhood.
He set the stem aside. He then reached down and placing his hands on her legs just above her ankles, he slowly and gently applied pressure to part her legs. Her heart pounded harder now...a combination of utter fear and sexual tension....she was so exposed...so helpless...no clothing....no way out...she was in HIS room...no one would believe anything.....Her nipples strained upward....her breathing shallow and rapid....her eyes stared into his....he finally broke the silence...."May I have the rose please." Her arm shook as she raised it to hand the flower to him...a petal fell off as she lifted it...."Have you ever been spanked on your thighs".....She didn't answer....she couldn't answer...she was frozen....she wanted to close her legs and couldn't....she couldn't move....she shut her eyes....she could feel him shift positions...and then she felt an ever-so-slight sting on her right inner thigh.....And in the next few moments...less than a few seconds, really, she felt herself lose her fear....her heart continued to pound....her breathing became even more rapid and shallow....her clitoris receeded as it does just before orgasm...she could feel the spasms forming inside her....the orgasm built just as she felt a second small sting...and at that moment she realized that she was being spanked with the rose stem....and she also realized why her fear had left her and what was different about this rose.....He had removed the thorns.......

Comments welcome

"Entre el Si y el No de la mujer, No me atreveria yo a poner una punta de alfiler" ---------------------------------Cervantes, Don Quixote

Path: news.demon.co.uk!dispatch.news.demon.net!demon!usenet2.news.uk.psi.net!uknet!usenet1.news.uk.psi.net!uknet!EU.net!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsxfer2.itd.umich.edu!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Story--Evolution of a Submissive--Part 2 of 4 Date: 17 Sep 1996 16:12:46 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 209 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51n0nu$l95@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com

Day Two..... She awoke to the aroma of warm bread. There were no clocks in the room, but she judged it to be late morning owing to the strength of the sunlight fighting its' way through the small cracks between the heavy room-darkening drapery. She laid there in silence after rolling onto her back. She was alone in the bed. The door to the room was open. The room itself was as she had remembered it as she drifted off to sleep last night. Nothing was out of place...not the room....not her....not the ribbon around her wrist. As she laid there, her thoughts drifted back to what had transpired the previous evening. The time, sleep and bath had successfully tempered the memory of first, the frustration in the lobby, and secondly the anxiety of the scenario she had voluntarily placed herself into. Consequently, she was awash in a peaceful, content self- confidence which comes as a result of knowing one is cared for and safe, yet challenged.

After a time, however, she had to give up the comfort of the bed to attend to some other necessities of life, not the least of which was her hunger. She stood at the bedside, adjusted her silk robe around her, and then retied the sash which had remained loosened since early last evening. Leaning her head back, she shook her hair free from the collar and arranged it loosely over her shoulders.

As she exited the bedroom, her eyes adjusted to the slightly higher level of light in the living room. As she crossed the room on the way to the bathroom, she passed in front of the couch. Her eyes met his as he sat there, facing the bedroom door, and leaned against one arm of the plush overstuffed couch. He smiled silently at her as she passed by. Despite the fact he didn't remove his gaze from her eyes, she couldn't help but wonder whether he noticed her nipples instantly harden and elevate two small areas of the robe as she saw him. Her reaction pleased her. As she passed, he turned his head to follow her movements...and he said as she reached the bathroom door 'please, do not hurry....join me when you are ready.' She closed the bathroom door behind her. He returned to his original position, permitting a small smile to shape his pursed lips. He closed his eyes...and reveled in the mix of aromas...the bread, the coffee, the remnants of her perfume which now had a muskiness to it--a mix of floral and earthy aromas...some of which were her's...having been coaxed from her body by the combination of the physical and mental encounter of a few hours ago.

She loosened the robe and allowed it to fall to her feet. The thick carpeting on the floor of the bathroom was still showing signs of dampness from last night. Hung behind the door was another robe, 'manufactured in the US of imported Italian silk' the tag said underneath the trade name 'Secret Submission'. In addition to the robe, there were a pair of teal (this guy was nothing if not consistent, she thought) panties as well as a sheer matching bra with a front clasp and very thin spaghetti straps which were side-offset. Upon closer examination, she noted that there was also the tiniest of g-strings inside the panties. As she move the clothing aside she saw that the last thing hung on the hook on the door was her room key. Lowering her eyes to the floor, her gaze fell upon a pair of white strapped pumps. On the counter next to the vanity sink was a pair of lace-top, sandalfooted stockings of what appeared to be nude shade. Of course, there was a teal satin garter belt to add the final touch.

As she gazed in the mirror, she saw her still erect nipples....and she reached up to cup her breasts in her hands. As she stared into her own eyes, she began to slowly knead her breasts...reaching for and grasping a nipple in between her thumb and forefinger of each hand. She continued this activity...coaxing her nipples to swell further. She felt a surge go through her....she wanted herself so....she fought the urge, however. Turning around, she started the shower and waited for the water to warm. Once adjusted to something just short of stinging hot, she stepped in and enjoyed the longest shower in which she had ever indulged.

Exiting the shower and after having patted herself dry with the plush oversized towel (geez, at least this wasn't teal, she thought)....she slowly dressed....and took special delight in the g-string and the bra...arranging herself just so....'funny', she thought....'just a few hours ago I was presenting myself nude, I couldn't move, was totally exposed...yet, there is a special delight in 'guilding the lily' if you will'.....she was proud of her self-confidence, and she knew he wouldn't see it as any bit smug...she knew, inside herself, that he appreciated and reveled in her....the way his tongue darted into her as she started receding from her first orgasm last night...the way he had knealt between her legs and slowly entered her...holding her legs at the ankles...lifting her as he moved to her...the way he looked directly into her eyes as he thrust at her....how he pulled her to him....how he stroked her forehead and temples as she fell asleep on his chest....'Yes', she thought, 'he does like this lily'.

She smiled silently at him as she sat down on the floor next to his leg...he was on the couch...she sat here because she wanted to be at table level (at least that was her rationalization...and she knew it)....and to enjoy a further level of submission...(some submission, she thought....). "You look lovely'...he said as he opened the cloth which was covering one of the baskets set on the table. Inside were fresh warm Epi rolls, French rolls and danish...being kept warm by a clay bread warmer in the bottom of the basket...On the side was coffee, juice (orange, she thought)...and whipped butter. As she ate, she leaned against his leg....and he alternately stroked her hair, grasped the back of her neck, squeezed her shoulder and ran his index finger over her lips...occasionally having her suck on his fingertip to taste the butter....At one point, he firmly grasped her hair in the back of her head, tilted her head back, leaned down to her and kissed her deeply...and at the same time...reached up and touched her lips with his finger...coaxing her to open her mouth as widely as she could...and answering that move by thrusting his tongue into her as deeply as he could. His kisses were nearly always accompanied with him stroking her cheek with his fingertips.

After a time, her curiousity got the best of her. There was another, larger covered basket on the floor next to the table...at the far end..on the other side of his legs...'What's in the other basket' she asked in as delicate a tone as she could...(it didn't really matter to her...she felt she lacked nothing). He thereupon picked up the basket and placed it on his lap. Reaching inside, but not revealing the other contents, he brought out two cuffs of 3" wide leather...the cuffs had a 'D' ring on the side, were adjustable, and had a hasp as well as a small ring to hold a lock. He reached down and placed one on each of her wrists. She felt the soft deerskin lining of the cuffs firmly grasping her...and owing to how wide they were, they tended to feel very restrictive while not confining any movement by themselves...and yet, they were soft to the skin. Once they were on and snugly fastened he set the basket aside...."Stand, please" he said in a soft yet firm voice. He helped her up...He held her hand as he led her to the bedroom. He carried the basket under one arm and held her firmly with his right hand. She kept pace. He led her to the side of the freshly made bed and positioned her to stand next to it. He placed the basket on the bed and slowly uncovered the contents. He very methodically removed two more cuffs (which she presumed were for her ankles), a leather paddle, a small velvet pouch with contents which remained hidden to her eyes but which made a tinkling metalic sound when moved, three leather straps about a half-inch wide (two of which were long...almost 8 or nine feet, it appeared...) and with clips at the ends and a means of adjusting their length, a riding crop, a silk scarf (yes, it too was teal), two small bottles of 'something'...a small, narrow dildo...and a rose. After he laid all the items out on the bed for her to see, he placed the basket aside...and returned his gaze to her... to read what physical body language he could. Some signs were clear....the erect nipples--- evident through the two layers of bra and robe, the quickened breathing, the quick eye movement as she focused alternately on the dildo, the cuffs, and straps, the paddle.

He waited for a signal that she was done taking all this in. When she looked up, he slowly reached out for the sash on her robe. 'Pl..Please',...she softly stammered.....He stopped. And waited. Her right had reached into the pocket in the robe. 'Here', she said, 'I won't be needing this.' She handed him her room key.*

Comments welcome

"Entre el Si y el No de la mujer, No me atreveria yo a poner una punta de alfiler" ---------------------------------Cervantes, Don Quixote

Path: news.demon.co.uk!dispatch.news.demon.net!demon!xara.net!emerald.xara.net!news.thenet.net!frankensun.altair.com!nntp.coast.net!news.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!cs.utexas.edu!nntp.primenet.com!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsxfer2.itd.umich.edu!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Story--Evolution of a Submissive--Part 3 of 4 Date: 17 Sep 1996 16:09:12 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 540 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51n0h8$l5r@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com

She couldn't be sure, but perhaps she shouldn't have made the remark. Maybe he wasn't angry...after all, he did not say he was. His movements were deliberate when her words hit his ears....all she knew was RIGHT NOW she was tied face down on the bed...the leather straps having been run under the mattress and the clasps hooked to her cuffs--the wrist cuffs she had been wearing and the ankle cuffs he made her place upon herself. The pillows under her abdomen propped her bottom up in the air...exposed to his view or attentions. But, he wasn't in the room. After positioning her there, he left. HE LEFT!!!! She reflected.

Of course, the experience hadn't been bad....in fact, it had been and was continuing to be quite erotic...but still, she was frightened. Wet.....and frightened. "Maybe the situation would be different had I not said it," she thought. It had been two hours since she had handed him the room key. At the time, he took pause from his intent of removing her robe and left the room to (presumably) place the key out of their sight. He had asked her to stay where she was. She heard him leave the suite. At that time, she had taken the opportunity to reach down and lightly run her fingertips over the length of the riding crop, watching her cuffed hand linger at the very top which ended in a smooth, round leather ball and also at the bottom where it had two one-inch wide leather flaps. She wanted to touch the dildo, but she returned to her upright stance as she heard him returning to the room--she hadn't asked, nor been given permission, to do anything but look at the paraphernalia on the bed. Actually, he hadn't said a thing. When he returned, he stood in front of her and said 'don't concern yourself about anything until you are released. I assure you, everything is taken care of.' She fought the urge to probe for further explanation, yet at the same time, she thought to herself that she had followed his written orders last night....and 'so far, so good.' "Funny" she thought to herself.....how she could think of such a flippant cliche as 'so far, so good', given the situation she was experiencing. She lowered her eyes at his comment, and held her gaze downward as he came closer, and tracing her cheekbone with his forefinger, kissed her lightly on the forehead. She felt her eyes misting.
His finger lifted her head as he reached her chin. "You are a wonderful, sensual, erotic, attractive woman. Never lower your eyes unless YOU want to. They should never be lowered as an indication of helplessness. Sadness, happiness and blushing femininity are all wonderful reasons to lower your eyes. But never, ever because you feel insecure, inadequate, or inferior. Because you are none of those things." He looked directly into her eyes as he said those words. At that point, she stopped fighting back the misting, and a single tear escaped each of her eyes. He wiped them away from her cheek with his finger, and touched his damp fingertip to the back of her right hand. He then kissed her hand where he had applied the tears. With that, she felt a surge of dampness form between her legs.

"Last evening was very special to me," he whispered. "You gave yourself to me both physically and mentally, and I took a chance with you. Only you know if you went beyond your limits, but I suspect not. In any case, you must know a few things before we go on. First, your belongings are safe." At this point, she was surprised that that did not reassure her. Instead, the effect it had was to have her start wondering about his power and connections in this hotel. He was able, in a matter of hours, to obtain perfectly sized clothing for her. He was able to have deliveries made to her with seemingly total control over the discretion exercised. And now, he was controlling the disposition of her belongings. "You will be released in time to meet your committments." Her fear grew at the knowledge that he had a total grasp of the situation. "You will, however, need to have a safe word. You have the ability to stop our activities by using it. The use of only your safe word will stop what is happening." This seemed to calm her. In fact she noticed herself noting that he used the word 'only' in the correct part of the sentence. "Your safe word will be 'mercy.' Is that a word you feel comfortable with, and are sure you can remember?" She quietly answered "yes." "You have already proven to me that you are in the correct state of mind, so there is no need to insist on your calling me Master or Sir, but you may if you wish. However, you must avoid the use of the word 'no.' If you do, it will be necessary to correct you and at that time you will answer me using those titles." "Yes, Sir," she instinctively answered. "And," he started and then paused until her eyes met his "at no time do I ever expect you do use a derogatory term towards yourself. And you will hear none of that from me." At these words, she wondered how she could feel so uplifted, protected and yet so willing to submit to him....all at the same time. "Now, I want you to know that we will not be disturbed. At some point in the next hour, you will hear someone enter the next room....that will be the delivery of your belongings...and that will be your assurance that someone knows where you are. Beyond that, you are mine until I release you for your committments, barring the use of your safe word."

"What is your safe word?" "Mercy," she answered without hesitation. "Good, sweetheart," he said with a smile.

With that, he had loosened the sash on her robe and opened the front of it....exposing her. As she stood there, he reached out and traced the top of the bra cups with his finger. He could see her nipples straining against the material...and he made no effort to hide his stares from her. She sensed he wanted her to feel that she was being consumed. He allowed his fingers to trace over the cups and cross that portion covering her nipples...where he pressed a bit more firmly...and, as stiff as she was, felt herself stiffen more. She also knew that the first barrier of protection, her g-string, was about to be overwhelmed with her juices. "You are going to give yourself to me totally. You are going to overcome any vestiges of inhibition you might have in the time we spend together. And we are going to show you that once those inhibitions, many of which are unnecessary societal baggage are gone, you will be opened up to physical and mental pleasures you would not otherwise allow yourself to experience. So, I will tell you, it is going to be uncomfortable. But, you are here by choice. And I will guide you. " She felt her knees buckle slightly as he reached up and removed her robe from her shoulders and then off her arms. "Unnecessary societal baggage" she thought...'that's pretty presumptuous to assume that of me. And how in the world can he go from tweeking my nipples to a phrase like that." "Stay where you are" he said as he took her robe and rehung it on the other side of the room. As he came back to her, he stopped behind her. She had a sense that he was a couple feet behind her....and while she couldn't see him, she 'just 'knew' he was staring at her. That thought was confirmed when she felt the bottom of her panties being adjusted on her as he hooked his fingers in them and gave a gentle tug at the material. When his hands left her panties, he ran the tips of his fingers from the waistband up her sides to her shoulder blades....and then on the descent, he lightly scratched her with the backs of his fingernails. Then, nothing. She knew she was being stared at again and that if the liquid didn't wash away her g-string, the heat would melt it.

She continued to look straight ahead after his fingers stopped contact with her at the waistband of her panties. She could hear his breathing as he move closer to her from behind. She felt his breath reach the back of her neck just a moment before she felt his lips contact her there. The lips traced from her neck to behind her ear and then back down across her shoulder. Sometime during the travels, his hands came to rest upon her waist. She tilted her head to one side to afford him access to her neck as she clasped her hands in front of her. She could feel his breath on her, his lips nibbling after having kissed her repeatedly, and then a gentle, light bite on her shoulder. At this, his hands held her firmly--the firmness to indicate she was not to move away or, actually, to not move closer either, but to just experience what was happening. When he was certain she would remain in place, he let go and for a moment she didn't feel either his touch or his breath upon her. "Let your arms hang at your side" he commanded. She unclasped her hands and responded immediately. With that, his left hand resumed its position on her waist and his right-hand fingertips, followed by his lips, traced her spine, across the top of her panties and garter belt, over to her right wrist, and up her arm to her shoulder. He then knelt behind her and placed his hands on her hips. His tongue traced the legbands of her panties as he tasted her skin where it was first revealed from beneath the teal material. He could feel her thighs tense slightly as tongue probed slightly under the legband. Upon feeling his hand leave her hip and slide between her knees she parted her legs slightly to ease the upward movement of his hand. He accepted this lowering of his submissives' defenses by continuing the ascent until his fingers met the material between her thighs. At this point, his fingers grasped the material, pulled it together and continued this little bunching ritual until the panties were neatly tucked between her now-exposed cheeks. She delighted in the additional exposure which was accented by the physical presence now of both the g-string and panties exerting their combined bits of pressure to her bottom. As she stood there awaiting his next series of attentions, she pictured her bottom now outlined by the garter straps and parted by the panties. "How come it never felt this good in the girls' locker room" was her thought at the moment. His kisses continued and now covered her ass as he slowly, but with a deliberate purpose in mind traveled to the crack between her cheeks. His tongue licked and probed her entire length, but of course couldn't get fully at the hidden prize concealed and protected beneath the rolled material. He nipped at her between her cheeks--a new sensation for her and one which she found quite pleasureable. At that point, she knew that the g-string was going to be for a one-time use--surely all that dampness would dissolve whatever was holding it together. She could hear his low moan as he enjoyed the taste and smell of her, as he enjoyed the absolute submission she demonstrated through her giving herself without physical hesitation (a lot can be read through the tensing of her cheeks), and as he enjoyed the sight of her standing before him. As he finished licking her, he reached up to near her waistband, and hooking a finger on either side, ran the tips down and replaced her panties where he first found them. He then rose.

Circling around to be in front of her, he sat on the edge of the bed as she stood there awaiting his command. "I want you to reveal yourself to me, and to open yourself to me. You will put on a slow, deliberate, paced display for me, and by the way, for you." He slid up onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard and pillows, all the while maintaining his riveting gaze on her eyes. "By doing what I will tell you to, you will learn that no part of your body or mind is off limits to me and that every part of you is available for my appreciation....whether by sight, touch, smell or taste. When you have fully revealed yourself to me, I will then have an additional exercise for you to do." Suddenly, the high heels were wobbly. It was one thing to undress before a man, it was quite another to be deliberately put on display....and she knew this wasn't going to be a 'strip-tease' type display, and that she would move only at his direction.
"As I direct you, you will remove each piece of clothing. As you are doing so, you will do it in such a way as to linger and extend the time of removal--note, I do not mean delay its' removal--just extend the time. Also, while you are doing so, you will choose how to present the view to me to afford my eyes an unobstructed view of what you are doing, what you are exposing to me. Additionally, you will also tell me what pleasures I might give you AND which you will give me through the use of that part of your body." "Yes, Sir" came the softly spoken reply as a smile crossed his lips. Her head was spinning....her first reaction (which she thought to herself) was 'that's a lot to remember', until she realized that what she really was being asked to do was just drop her inhibitions, and go beyond them by very graphically, slowly and deliberately describing pleasures beyond constraints in her mind. He could have said, 'take your clothes off' and the physical end would be the same. But, he was helping her make a souffle, not scrambled eggs...and this would take time....and he intended to take it....and show her it would be worth every last second of uncomfortable agony she thought she would endure.

"You may use anything in the room you need, such as a chair, the bed, whatever. You may not, however, use any of the items on the bed as of yet. Also, you may not use any of the items on the bed in your descriptions of how you will please me and be pleased." "OK" she said, and then quickly added "yes Sir." His eyes broke their grasp on her eyes as he slowly, ever so slowly, looked at her....from her mouth to her neck, down her chest....she noted he lingered on her abdomen, almost fascinated by her breathing.....to her thighs and down to her ankles. His eyes started back upward as he said "are you ready, Sweetheart?" "Yes."

"Take off your heels" came the command. With only the briefest of hesitation, she stepped closer to the bed, right next to him. She lifted her left foot onto the edge of the bed near his waist, and bending forward offering him a more revealing presentation of her breasts, she reached for the strap around her ankle. She lightly trace the strap and the edge of the shoe with her forefinger. As she unclasped the strap she began describing herself--alternating her eyes from his to her activities at hand. "I want to show you my ankles and feet...I've felt very, very sexy being on display this way--having myself lifted up for you. I want you to take your pleasure with this part of my body as you grasp my ankles and feet and hold them up as I lay in front of you on the bed. I would like nothing better than for you to grasp me there and spread my legs for your pleasure or to tie me by my ankles so that I am at your service." His low gutteral moan told her she was obeying and pleasing. "And how would you like to be pleased there?" he inquired. "My desire is to please you, Sir" she said. "I will remind you only once....answer the question. Please remember, answering the question, revealing your desires and wants, your innermost thoughts and seeing pleasure on your face pleases me." She quickly recovered with a "sorry, Sir" as she lowered her eyes. "I understand. Sir, I would love to feel your hands grasping me on my ankles. The thought of you kissing me and running your tongue around my ankles excites me, and I would love that. I would love you to massage my feet, too....I believe I can nearly have an orgasm by that means." As she lingered on that thought, she finished removing the second shoe. She then turned and walked across the room to place the shoes out of the way. As she was doing so, she heard the noise in the other room--her belongings were here. He smiled to himself....thinking that she had done a marvelous job--he was very, very pleased and proud of the way she was trusting and giving---and he was also happy that the distraction was over with now, and not sometime later. She returned to stand at the bedside, and was caught by surprise by his next request. "You aren't wearing a choker or collar now.
But, tell me about your neck." She met the challenge as she leaned in close to him, tilted her head back to expose her neck and said "You've already kissed and nibbled your way down my neck. That sent chills through me. I think you can tell right now what pleasure that gives me....just the thought of it is causing my heart to pound...and you can see my pulse. And, I hope you can smell my perfume coming up right now....from the excitement. That pleases me, and I hope I please you that way." He reached up, placed his hand behind her neck, pulled her against his face as he smelled her and felt her neck against his cheek. He whispered, "very good, my obedient one." He bit her lightly on the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Her exposure and examination continued as the garter belt was removed, then the stockings, the panties, the bra and then the g-string. He especially liked the way she mentioned not only the physical pleasure she knew he would have and take, but also the pleasure he would derive from seeing her reactions...whether it be her wetness, her nipples hardening, her toes curling during an orgasm, her jaw tensing as he licked her....innumerable signals she would send. Signals which would be physical indications of her pleasure which she knew would provide him with both visual and mental pleasures. Her confidence grew. She got great pleasure and delight, even, when she had an opportunity to pinch her nipples in front of him as she described what she would like. She liked lightly running her finger up her pussy while describing how she thought his tongue would feel as it traced her...gathering her wetness....and settled cozily in the area around her clitoris. She went so far as to turn her back to him, and after asking to have a spanking administered (he noticed that she didn't mention whether for her or his pleasure), she bent forward, placed her hand on her cheeks, and revealed her most intimate area to him. As she was forbidden from mentioning the items spread out on the bed, she limited her description to the pleasures to be derived from his affording her oral attentions there as well as penetrating her as she would desire him to do. She felt a special level of submission when, as she was reaching around to spread her cheeks, the cuffs around her wrists rubbed against her bottom...reminding her that she wasn't 'totally' nude, but that the remnants of 'coverings' only served to further offer him a way to bind her physically....as if he already hadn't achieved his ends mentally. She felt safe. She felt aroused. And still, her mind was able to wonder....what was in the pouch on the bed.

"You have obeyed well, dear" he said as she stood before him. He swung his legs off the bed and then stood in front of her. He fixed his gaze on her eyes as he placed his left hand on her waist and his right hand on her pussy. Her legs parted slightly, offering him the opportunity to wet his fingers--an offer he accepted. The slick fingertips then found their way up to her clitoris and, beginning lightly and slowly then with a quickening and ever firmer way about them, continued to play with her. His gaze didn't move as her knees trembled, her breathing quickened and she reached orgasm as she stood in front of him. As she was peaking, and at the same time she was trying to stay upright, he leaned into her and whispered "you are lovely." He held her until she had regained her balance, kissed her and then slowly backed up. She was crying. His gut reaction was to immediately stop what he had been doing, and assume the tears were not a positive sign. He also knew that he couldn't Master her if she couldn't count on him to keep his promise--even if that promise was that the safe word was the only indication that things should stop. One of the hardest things he had ever decided--this was a woman he wanted--was to continue. He knew that she felt safe, felt secure, felt pleasure....and he also knew that she was confident that she was pleasing him. It was difficult, but he decided to proceed in confidence that she was pleased and surprised at herself....and not that she was feeling anything negative. He hugged her, backed away again, and once again, wiped the tears as he had before. He then held her silently for a few minutes. When he could hear that her breathing had returned to normal, he kissed her on the neck, and her physical response told him she was fine. He backed away and got back on the bed as she stood there....wearing only some drying tears on the backs of her hands, a small smile on her face, and the white leather cuffs. As he looked down, he saw her toes curling into the carpeting....but by the pace and by her other physical signs, he could tell he was not observing nervous reflexes....he was observing the remnants of sexual spasms which she was still enjoying as she stood there. "My lover....." he paused and watched her...."you make me so very, very happy."

"We are going to continue as before. But now, I want you to take each of the items on the bed and, holding them individually, I want you to describe the possible pleasures involved." She drew a deep breath as she reached for the dildo....and at the instant she touched it, she realized it was a device uniquely qualified for other than vaginal insertion. She hesitated bringing herself to acknowledge it was an anal plug....but in all it's flesh colored glory...that was what it was. She met reality...and then just as quickly approached her mission with, it would be corny to say, gay abandon. Ah, how the language has changed. Suffice it to say, she hoped that at least one of the two 'bottles of something' was a lubricant, because she had commited to some very specific delights while fondling the toy in her fingers. Plus, she wanted it. Plain and simple. She proceeded through her nude presentation, but had the opportunity to place the ankle cuffs on when she got to them. She was leaving the pouch for last. She wasn't sure why. The bottles turned out to be a water based, strawberry-scented lubricant (phew!!) and an edible (those marketing folks think of everything!) massage oil. The paddle was stiff to the touch, being just about the thickest leather she had ever seen. Each time she bent down for a different item, she couldn't help but notice that the rose had been dethorned. She described the straps...she presumed they were to be used for binding her, and she let her feelings go for broke on these items as she described any number of ways to bind her down and/or in various positions, all of which afforded her Master access to every orifice on her body. She wanted to be taken, and wanted to let him know that by the graphical depictions she described. He understood as she said that "I want to present myself to you so that there is nothing but the air in the room between any part of me and your desires." And so it went. Until the comment. The comment which, when she made it, caused him to stand erect, remove all the items from the bed, place the velvet pouch in his pocket, and take the action which he did. He took two pillows and placed them midway down the middle of the bed. "Lay across the pillows with your bottom positioned up in the air as high as they will support you." She did so, and he gently, but firmly, took her legs and opened them, clasped one end of the leather strap to one ring, ran it under the mattress and, after adjusting the length, hooked the other cuff until she was spread eagle. He did the same to her arms. He then took the scarf and after deliberately folding it very neatly, blindfolded her with it. He placed the rose between her legs, allowing the stem to follow the valley between her now- prominently displayed globes. He then turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. She heard the suite door open and close also. So, here she was.....bound, sightless, decorated and serving a role as a sexual vase....and all, she presumed, because she just couldn't resist the comment. Yes, her mind had wandered to his seemingly flippant comments...like 'societal baggage'....yes, she had been scared, aroused, calmed--sometimes all in the matter of seconds. But why on earth, she thought, did I have to say to him as I picked up the riding crop "don't they make these in teal leather?"

Comments welcome

"Entre el Si y el No de la mujer, No me atreveria yo a poner una punta de alfiler" ---------------------------------Cervantes, Don Quixote

Path: news.demon.co.uk!dispatch.news.demon.net!demon!news.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsxfer2.itd.umich.edu!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Story--Evolution of a Submissive--Part 4 of 4 Date: 17 Sep 1996 16:36:35 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 126 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51n24j$lmv@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: sinceredom@aol.com (SincereDom) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com

Looking back on the previous day, she could now wallow in the warmth of the memories. She could also laugh now as she thought about how scared she had been when her Master tied her down and abruptly left the suite. At that point, all she knew was that she HAD pleased him, but then that flippant remark made him take some very, very determined steps. Now, she was smiling....but she also got chills as she recalled how she thought she had really 'blown it.'

"Are you cold? You have goosebumps all over you" he said softly in her ear. She was lying on his chest and his arm circled her and stroked her side. "No, I just got scared thinking about when you left the room yesterday. I thought I had angered you and displeased you. For a time, I actually thought I had lost you. And that fear was greater than the thought of punishment you might administer to me" she said. "But, I'm right her, dear. Nothing to worry about" he reassured her.

"Yes, I know. But, just thinking back on what I was thinking at the time gives me chills" she admitted. "How was I to know you would do what you did." He took that as an invitation to drive a point home to his trusting lover.

"Everything I had told you up to that point had been quite positive. You obviously saw how pleased I was--with you, with us. I could see you were happy too...although obviously pushed to some of your limits of comfort. I want you to remember this: You are not walking a tightrope with me. This isn't an exercise to see if you are going to make a misstep so that you will pay some 'consequence.' That's the whole point of having you become comfortable with your desires and wants and needs. And your trusting me with your physical and emotional needs is as great a gift as one can give. You can't do that if you are concentrating on 'not making mistakes.' What you should be concentrating on, and you did except for that brief time when you got worried, was 'what will please my Master and me' , not 'what will he do if I do something which displeases him.' " He continued the softly delivered lecture as he continued stroking. "Worrying about missteps will cause you to avoid steps which could be very rewarding. I'm not out to pick you apart for every word, gesture or emotion. I want you to express your feelings. And, if I am pushing you to some limit I may even back off...even if you don't use your safe word. I can't guarantee it, but I may. And, if I do, you will know that it was a direction I wished to go in and you can keep that in mind for the future. You will have time to build further comfort and trust, and go aggressively through that limit the next time I am asking you to do something. But, in the meantime, know you are not going to lose me because the bar may have been raised a bit too much at any given point in time. And, for heaven's sake, please realize that you are an absolute gift to me. A comment about teal leather isn't going to set that back. I'm no fool."

With that, she snuggled in a little closer and changed her thoughts to the love making which occured after he had returned, and how she hadn't been severely punished--except for that punishment she inflicted upon herself. She thought of how she so enjoyed the oral attention given to her....and how he coaxed her to let him continue even as she was thoroughly sated....and how she then reached another peak. She then thought about how he laid on his back and had her mount him...how he alternately wrapped his arms around her when she laid against him and how he held her waist when she sat upright on him. She relived the moments when he came inside her...his hips jerking violently against her as his hands clasped her bottom. She imagined all that as she lay there with her eyes closed, listening to his breathing and feeling his hand on her side.

And she smiled sweetly when she opened her eyes and her gaze fell upon what was sitting on the top of the dresser. And she thought about how she was being Mastered, fully confident of her submission, fully confident that her Master was pleased. She felt dominated in those ways she had most desired. She also felt quite satisfied and somewhat surprised that all that had come about, and he hadn't 'punished' or in any way physically tormented her. He hadn't used the crop or paddle, yet. He didn't open the velvet pouch...indeed she didn't know what he had now done with it. He had merely made her realize that she was an exquisite gift. He had pushed her in other ways....to have her know that she could be, in her words, ''just me' and be honored and respected for doing just that. Yes, she gazed at the new teal crop, not caring if it would be used....her satisfaction came from knowing that it was obtained to make a point to her. She also knew that he wouldn't have to leave the room to get teal cuffs, either. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. She was now prepared, emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally to have her physical limitations pushed. She had obeyed and achieved the level of mental comfort he desired in his submissive.....she was strong....stronger.....as she would need to be for further activities.

Comments welcome

"Entre el Si y el No de la mujer, No me atreveria yo a poner una punta de alfiler" ---------------------------------Cervantes, Don Quixote

Last modified (12/24/96 14:10:42) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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