Secret Submission (14 page)

The plug did not go in deep, but she could feel it there, pressing against her; her body wanting to expel it, but it not moving. The tightness in her belly grew stronger and she moved deeper into that wonderfully unfocused part of her mind where all awareness was of her own body.

Phillip felt her slipping into that wonderfully free state she was learning to enjoy. One hand on her waist steadied her as he played her body, helping her go deeper.

His fingers slipped along her slippery pussy lips again, separating them and teasing her clit. Hanging her head on her hands, instinct made her lean forward to give him better access. Something cold touched her there then slid with ease into her vagina. Dimly she was aware of him belting something else around her waist then a pressure on both her asshole and her pussy as the belt was tightened.

He stood her up then, helping her as the blood rushed from her face to her toes. After a moment, her head cleared. When it did, he commanded her again. “Stand as you have been taught, slave.”

She put her feet apart, but with her hands bound, she could not put them behind her. Instead she let them drop in front of her, resisting the urge to touch herself. She pushed her feet a little further apart, feeling the cool air rush in against her wet pussy.

A sudden vibration from that direction caused her to inhale sharply. It was gone as quickly as it came as she looked at him, puzzled. He stood before her, nonchalantly running a brush through his hair. He turned from her and she felt the vibration again—only now it was in her ass! Then both together were turned on full and she almost fell to her knees.

But again, it stopped as quickly as it started. He laughed at the expression on her face and held up the remote he hid in his palm. “I control those vibrators, slave—you will feel them when I wish you to.” Her ass started to buzz again and her eyes closed in pleasure. Her hand started to creep to her pussy with a mind of its own.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” He laughed, pulling on the end of the tie and raising her hands. “I see you need some help here. Stand at the end of the bed.”

She moved to the foot of the bed and turned to face him. He left the room for a moment, returning with several lengths of good, stout, cotton rope—and her cuffs. “Hold out your hands.” She did so and he placed the cuffs on her wrists then took two ropes, tying an end to each of her wrists. Only when he had the ropes firmly in hand did he untie her other binding.

Quickly he pulled her arms up, running the ropes over the top of the four-poster. Tying one rope off on one corner and the other rope on the other corner, he then knelt and spread her feet, using the rest of each rope to secure her ankles, which he first bound in their cuffs. Once she was secure, he knelt on the bed behind her, moving in close to her, but not touching—he only waited. He doubted he’d have to wait long and he was not disappointed.

Her arms stretched to the corners of the bed, she was even more aware of his belt tightly wrapped around her waist. She could see herself in the mirror in this position—the long pier mirror that hung on the wall—the only one in the room. Her waist was tiny—pulled in sharply by the belt. Just below it hung the second strap, also tight against her skin. She could see where the belt disappeared down between her legs to the vibrators below.

Just then the one in her pussy started to vibrate and she wanted so much to come. When he knelt behind her, she waited for the touch of his hands on her—anywhere. She could feel him, right behind her. Why didn’t he touch her? Biting her lip, she tried to be patient, but the tension grew too much. She could just see his outline in the mirror and he knelt silently, his outline framing her own. She squirmed around, trying to see behind her. “Sir? Oh, Sir, please…do something!”

“So my slave doesn’t like just being still? Drinking in her own beauty all spread out for her master? Feeling the wonderful helplessness of being tied? Knowing she has been invaded in her pussy and in her ass. An invasion put there by her master…an invasion he controls.”

His words sent shivers through her and her breathing grew heavy. She could not take in a deep breath, and the shallow breaths only increased her need. He controlled her—and she reveled in it.

Slowly she became aware that her ass was vibrating. It had started so slowly it was a full minute before she realized it had been going on for quite some time. Through eyes heavy with her passion, she watched her body in the mirror as if it were something that belonged to someone else. Something apart from her. Her lips parted and a low moan came from them as the vibrator in her pussy now started its throbbing inside her.

Her head fell back and he was there to catch her. He knelt up on the bed, supporting her head with his chest and she could see the two of them reflected back at her. “What a nice couple they make,” she thought abstractedly. She watched as he reached around, kneading her breasts and toying with her nipples. He pinched them and she saw her body arch and heard her own gasp of surprise.

She floated in a haze of pleasure, supported only by the ropes and him behind her. The vibrations increased and she saw the woman in the mirror writhing with an obvious need. She saw his hand dip lower on her body, touch her mound, then push through her hair and part her lips to apply pressure to her clit.

And the world exploded. Wave after wave caused her to dance in the ropes as her orgasm ripped through her body. All her senses shut down save those between her legs—and from them came a wonderful throbbing that cascaded over her and around her and through her.

She had no memory of it ending—only that the dance was glorious. When reality came back to her, she was lying on the bed, his belt gone from her waist. Only the ropes hanging on the corners of the bed and the dimly felt vibrators in her ass and pussy told her it had not been a dream.

The bed gave a little under her and Sarah felt him sit next to her, his hand rubbing along her back. Reveling in his caress as it dipped along the rills and hollows of her body, she allowed him to turn her over to face him and saw his smile—the one that always made her stomach give that little flip.

This time was no different, in spite of her euphoria. Raising herself on one arm, she smiled back, her eyes lazily drifting along the contours of his shape. But when she looked at his shaft, still stiff and hard, she frowned a bit. How was it fair that she felt this wonderful lightness, while her Master was still shackled to the earth? Moving more on instinct than anything else, her head followed her gaze as her hands reached out to caress him.

But his hand on hers stopped her. “No, slave. Not like that.” He stood and motioned for her to lie crosswise on the bed. She did so and he reached under her, pulling her body head first toward him until her head hung just off the edge. There was no fear of her falling; her shoulders still rested firmly on the bed.

He now moved forward, straddling her head with his legs. Leaning forward, his hands supporting him, he bent down, his thick shaft coming closer and closer to her mouth. Eagerly she opened for him, wanting to give him pleasure. As he touched her lips, her tongue snaked out, licking and caressing the purple tip of his cock.

What a difference a week had made. Last week he had possessed her mouth and she moved from toleration to an attitude of indifference. But now she wanted to make love to him with every ounce of energy she had. Her hands stretched up, encircling his engorged cock and cupping his balls as her mouth took in more and more of him. The more he bent down, the more of his cock filled her. She gagged and he pulled out a bit, but she guided him back in—opening her throat to let him past. Wider she stretched until her nose was buried in his balls, her mouth and throat filled with the wonder of his musky scent.

Slowly at first, then faster as passion ruled his actions, he pumped into her mouth. Her lips squeezed around him, making the opening tight against him. Higher and higher he climbed as her hands worked back to his ass, kneading his cheeks. And when her finger dipped between those cheeks and pressed against his asshole, he exploded; his seed bursting forth in a fitful stream down her throat.

His come filled her throat and mouth and for a few moments she could not breathe. He seemed to know, however, and just as she was about to panic, he pulled out of her, letting the air into her lungs again. In her position, she could not help him to the bed, but watched as he fell sideways along the width. Scooting down, she finished the job of cleaning him, letting her warm tongue send shivers of pleasure through his body.

They lay together for some time, the vibrators inside her quiet now, her face resting beside his now-soft cock which lay cradled in her hands. Neither felt the need to move—both floated in a wonderful haze as the afternoon wore away.

* * * * *

He stirred first, climbing off the bed and untying the ropes from the bedposts. Sarah lay as she had fallen asleep; on her stomach, just being lazy, watching and enjoying Phillip’s actions as his arms reached up. She so liked the way his chest muscles rippled as he struggled with a stubborn knot. He was so tall, the cleanup did not require him to stretch much, yet Sarah enjoyed watching him pad around the room in his nakedness as he coiled the rope and set it on the chair.

It had been a wonderful afternoon, in Phillip’s opinion—and he had not really pushed any of her limits. As he helped her to let out more and more of the slut buried deep inside her, the sex was getting better and better. He thoroughly enjoyed the role of puppeteer to her puppet. She had been so deliciously beautiful dancing in the ropes as she gave her orgasms to him. The way her breasts hung heavy and jiggled as she came, the way every muscle in her body tensed when she was right on the edge, how she came hard with her entire body, holding nothing back from her own pleasure. Oh, yes, she had come a long way in only a week. He knew now he could take her much further.

But time for a little more training. The ropes all coiled, he turned again to her prone form as she lay watching him. “Roll over, slave.”

She dutifully rolled to her back, still watching him.

“Arms up.” She put her arms over her head and she felt him lock them, first together, and then to the short chain attached to the head of the bed.

“Spread your legs.” Those words always gave her a small thrill. Always he had treated her well, but she was beginning to love this command, with its nastier connotation. Slowly she spread them, aware again of the devices still imbedded inside her.

Once her ankles were fastened and she was spread and helpless, he stood and looked at her, ready again, for he could see her moist pussy glistening. She lay there, still watching him, wondering what more he had in mind. When he took the few steps to the chair and put on his shirt, she almost cried out in protest. He couldn’t leave her here like this!

But he had—twice the week before. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he reached not only for his pants, but for a clean pair of shorts as well. Only when he was fully dressed did he approach the bed again.

“Remember, you are my toy. I can play with you, or not…as I see fit. When I am done, you see that I clean up my toy after use, storing her until I am ready to use her again.”

His words sent shivers down her spine. She was an object—a thing. She had no choices, no opinions. And if she did, they didn’t matter. He was done with her for now and he’d set her aside for use later on. The thought brought her very close to a climax.

He leaned over her now, reaching down to remove the vibrator from her vagina. His almost impersonal manner affected her and she bit back the temptation to raise her hips to his hand as the fingers of one hand pushed her outer lips apart while the fingers of his other hand reached inside her and pulled out the vibrator. Almost she would have thought herself in a gynecologist’s office, his manner was so businesslike.

Reaching deep into her crack, he found the butt plug and removed it in like manner. Without saying another word, he took the mechanical toys to the bathroom and she heard the water run. After a moment, he returned, drying the objects with a towel. He put them away in a drawer and then used a damp cloth he had to wipe her no-longer-private areas. He could’ve been washing his car, for all the emotion he showed. A small whimper escaped her throat.

Finished, he toweled her dry, having even cleaned out her pussy juices. The room was darkening in the late afternoon sun, but she could still see him clearly. Taking the washcloth and the towel back to the bathroom, he emerged and left the bedroom without even a glance in her direction.

And now she writhed on the bed, pulling on her bindings, trying to get release. Anything to take away the great need that had built up at his treatment of her. She whimpered and twisted her body, but he did not come back—and she could not come.

It was a long time before her need faded. Every time she would start to relax, the memory of his manner toward her would resurface and send her back up again. She lost count of the number of times she hovered on the brink, only to fall backward again without reaching that last and most glorious point.

Oh, but she needed to come! She would have fucked a Coke bottle at that point, she was so horny. And then she laughed. Right out loud. “What language!” she thought to herself. It was a word she never used—not even in anger. She laughed again, thoroughly enjoying her predicament.

She settled in to just take pleasure in the fact that she was bound and could go nowhere. The clock on the dresser ticked away the time, but she paid it no mind. She would lie here for eternity if that was what he wanted. Stretching against her bindings from time to time, she reveled in her helplessness.