Testing the Submissive: The Story & Confessions of a Masochist (2 page)

Again, I hesitated, “yes…yes it is.”

“Will you masturbate when you get home, after our interview?”

“
I’m sure I will. Knowing me, I’ll likely start in the cab ride home, rubbing myself through my jeans, as long as I can do so discreetly, without the driver noticing.”

“You are nothing but a fucking whore.”

“I know, Sir. I’m certain that I am. I’m sorry for being what I am.”

“No need to apologize for being what you are, you’re the one who’s going to suffer for it. I’ve arranged your next a
ppointment, unless of course you no longer wish to continue with our arrangement?”

“I’m ready for my next appointment, Sir
. Ready and willing.”

“Good. You will
visit a man by the name of Grekko.  He will introduce you to his thick rubber strap.  He can only afford $1,500 so your portion will be $1,050.  Not as lucrative as the previous one, but it will be just as painful, if not more.”

“I understand, Sir. I’ll be prepared.”

“Then it’s set. I will email you the details once finalized, but it will be in about a week at his farmhouse. I will give him six hours with you.”

Three days later, in the midst of a dream
…

Lewis
appeared to me in a dream. He was as handsome in my reverie as he was in reality. With his rugged good looks, not the pretty-boy looks of a Brad Pitt or a Bradley Cooper; but more like Russell Crowe.  He was a good four or five inches taller than me, so I’d say just over 6 feet.  He kept his hair short.  In fact, his thick dark hair was near perfect, just falling over his forehead with a slight wave to it.  Lewis had a definite charisma, or presence, or gravitas – whatever you want to call it. Point is, when he spoke everyone within earshot wanted to hear his every word.

In the dream we were in some kind of log cabin up in the mountains. I was lying on a bed, and he was approaching me, with a pair of handcuffs.

“There’s a bad storm coming…” he said.

I didn’t say a word, but put my wrists together so that he might cuff them.

“No,” he continued, instead taking my left wrist and cuffing it to the one bed post.  He took my right wrist and did the same thing to the other bed post.

I was about to say, “Will you whip me?” but before I could do so, we could both hear the sound of a freight train approaching. The most powerful wind I’d ever seen began to envelop the room. As is surreal in dreams, everything inside the cabin started swirling and flying around. I could see through the windows that the same thing was happening outside. Trees and objects, massive rocks, including all sorts of debris were flying around. Then it dawned on me what was happening.

“Tornado!” I said. “Shouldn’t you release me?” Fastened as I was to the strong bedposts there was no way for me to seek shelter.

Just then, the entire roof of the cabin lifted off and flew away into the vortex of the tornado. All of the furniture and objects around us were also sucked up into the void. The tornado was directly above us, but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

“The cuffs!” I pleaded again to Lewis, as if to say ‘release me’. But he lay over me to protect me from whatever debris was still flying around. He took hold of the same bedposts with his strong hands.

I awakened to a feeling of peace and unequivocal trust of the man who had taken command of me.

Sixteen days later, six days after the strapping…

This time Lewis decided to conduct my interview in a restaurant, over dinner, which surprised me. I was both pleased and disappointed at the same time.  Pleased that we’d be having dinner together, out in public; yet disappointed that I wouldn’t be naked before him. That said, the venue was secondary. I found myself excited to be in his presence again. Excited both emotionally and sexually.

“How have you been?” 
Lewis started with a benign question.

“Pretty good Sir, considering I can finally sit on a chair again.” 
Lewis laughed at my joke, understanding exactly what I intended.  He knew that Grekko concentrated on my ass.

“I assume there is still evidence of bruising?”

“Very much so, but it’s healing well. I’m sure I’ll be completely clear within a week.”

“When you go about your day, how does it feel knowing there are marks under your clothes?”

“I love it, Sir. I know that sounds strange, but I enjoy knowing the marks are there.”

“
How so?”

“If I’m out in public, or even hanging with friends, I love the feeling that I
’m carrying a kinky secret.  The marks represent that secret. No one has a clue that under my jeans my ass is purple and blue.  It’s fun!”

Just then our waitress arrived, and
Lewis and I both ordered drinks. He ordered a red wine, and I ordered white.  Once our server was out of earshot, the conversation continued.

“So, when you arrived at Grekko’s farmhouse, were you surprised by his appearance?”

“Yes. He was working on some landscaping when the limo pulled up into his long driveway.  At first, I thought he was the groundskeeper or something, but then when he paid the limo driver, my heart sank, and I realized this would be the man using me.”

“How did he
appear?”

“He was disheveled, unshaven, and somewhat sweaty; his clothes confirmed he was working outside all day.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“It was a strange feeling. On the one hand, I was somewhat repulsed by the idea of this man touching me. Yet, a part of me wanted to serve him for that very reason.”

“Why so?”

“To prove to you, Sir – that I’m yours to
share with anyone you desire, that I have no say in who uses me, or how. Whether a man or woman is attractive or not has no bearing on the fact that they can whip me, use me, fuck me or whatever. It reconfirmed my position as an unequivocal whipping-bitch.”

“What happened from there?”

“Grekko and I made our way inside the home, and in no time I was up in his bedroom, on the second floor. He undressed me like a child opening up a Christmas present.  Then he said something which at first confused me.”

“Let me guess, he mentioned Brutus?”

“Yup. Exactly. He said he wanted to introduce me to Brutus, so I thought he had invited a friend to join us. Momentarily I was concerned, as I know you would have told me in advance if others were to be involved.”

“Personally, I think
its goofy how he refers to Brutus as a person, but I guess that’s part of the eroticism for Grekko; and a good submissive should happily accept the whims of her dominants.”

“Very true Sir, and instinctively I did that very thing
– I think I said ‘it is my pleasure and honor to meet you Brutus’ when he showed me the strap.”

“What did it look like?”

“It’s a very thick, heavy rubber strap, moderately flexible, with a custom made handle. When Grekko held it before me, I peppered Brutus with soft kisses, as a sign of respect.”

“Were you worried?”

“VERY worried.  I was not looking forward to the agony that Brutus was about to bring me.”

“And your pussy?”

“As usual Sir, as much as I was worried, fearful, apprehensive….my pussy did have that familiar and predictable tingle.  I didn’t want to be there, and yet – my desire couldn’t be ignored.”

During
our conversation Lewis and I scanned the menu, ordered appetizers, and were into our second drink.  I found myself increasingly attracted to Lewis. I enjoyed answering his questions. In fact, I practically hung off his every word.

“Where and how did Grekko deliver the discipline?”

“He made me kneel over storage chest at the foot of his bed.  I wasn’t tethered, but told to remain still.  Brutus came down hard and heavy across the back of my thighs.  The sting was worse than I imagined, and I was also surprised by the
weight
of the strap.  It was like a heavy blow to my body.  The pain was fierce. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to endure a beating like that.”

“But you did
, of course.”

“I did
, Sir. One strike at a time, I endured it.  He continued on the back of my thighs for at least a dozen more, before moving upward toward my ass.”

“Then?”

“For forty-five minutes, about once per minute – Brutus came crashing down on my ass, with great force. My butt was on fire. I was crying. I was trembling. I did my best to stay cool. Occasionally Grekko would bring Brutus up to my face, so I could plant a kiss or two on the strap.”

“Was there much conversation?”

“Grekko barely spoke. But there was a permanent smile on his face. He seemed content; at times he would rub his callused hand over my ass, perhaps to soothe me, perhaps to gauge the warmth of my skin, I’m not sure.  Instinctively, I spoke to Brutus during one of our kissing moments, and Grekko’s cock, which was already hard, seemed to get even harder.  I took that as a cue to speak to Brutus more often during the beating, and Grekko appeared to revel in it.”

“What sorts of things did you say to Brutus?”

“I would kiss Brutus, and lay the side of my cheek against the rubber, then say ‘thank you Brutus, thank you for teaching my ass a lesson’ or ‘sorry Brutus, sorry for trembling so much, when you’re ready please hit me again’. Finally, Grekko laid the strap to rest on his dresser, and I knew the beating was over.”

“Did Grekko fuck you at that point?”

“He wanted a blowjob. He made me kneel before him, which wasn’t easy with my ass on fire. I was instructed to keep my wrists behind my back, and use only my mouth.  In less than a minute, my mouth was flooded with his cum. I swallowed as I sucked and did not remove my mouth from his cock until several minutes after he released.”

“Was there relief for you?”

“There was. Grekko motioned for me to stand. He picked up Brutus again, but somehow I knew he wasn’t going to hit me with it.  He tapped my inner thighs, and I spread my legs. He turned the strap on its side, and with the very edge of the rubber he began to slide it along the length of my slit.  In no time Brutus was wet and slick with my juices, which allowed the instrument to slide easily along my cleft, pressing against my clit in long smooth strokes.  In as little time as it took Grekko to cum, so did I. I gyrated against Brutus, cumming as the strap worked its magic on my needy cunt.”

“I imagine you were required to
thank
the strap for this additional indulgence?”

“I thanked Brutus by kissing and licking every inch of that strap, until any evidence of my essence was unquestionably gone. Grekko patiently watched me the entire time, still standing right in front of me.  Eventually, he took Brutus away, and swept me into his arms – kissing me himself.”

“Interesting. Grekko kissed you? And how did that feel?”

“Again, respectfully
Sir, he isn’t exactly the most attractive man. His breath was stale, his stubble irritated my skin. His hands were roaming all over my back and ass, which was still stinging. And he kissed me very passionately for quite a while, so it was full-on high school necking, if you will.

“Did you return his kiss, or were you holding back?”

“I returned it, for sure. My duty and willingness as a submissive far outweighed any hesitancy because either; I barely knew the man, or because of his appearance.  I kissed him with as much passion as he kissed me. When his tongue explored the inside of my mouth, then I explored the inside of his with my tongue. I held him tight. I softly moaned. I ran my fingers through his hair. In one instance, I almost giggled, but other than that, I was one hundred percent into the kiss.”

“What
caused the giggle?”

“
Grekko has a big-gut, as you know. So much so, I practically had to suck in my stomach to make room for his beer belly, and that caused my breasts to rest on the top of it. I imagined we looked like Ying and Yang from the side, which almost made me smile into the kiss. However, at the same time, both his hands wandered down and he grabbed my ass, sinking his fingers into my flesh.  Still being tender and raw from Brutus’ work, the pain snapped me out of any notion of giggling.”

“You waited for Grekko to break the kiss?”

“It happened very naturally. His cock was returning to form. While we kissed, he guided my hand toward it, and I started to jerk him off while we stood. We did that a while. Soon he was rock hard again. I thought he might want to fuck me, but when he pressed down on my shoulder, I knew he wanted another blowjob. I slowly kissed my way lower until he was once again fucking my mouth.”

“If memory serves correct Grekko is a two-orgasm Client, which means
he was spent after this one.”

“Yes
, he sure was. I was barely able to finish swallowing when he sat heavily in a nearby La-Z-Boy with a peaceful look of contentment on his face.  He was sweet when he expressed his satisfaction verbally.”

“What did he say?”

“He said I was lovely. He said he would give me a glowing report when he talked to you. He said Brutus enjoyed his time with me. Then he said I was totally free to go, and our session was formally over.”

“You gathered your things and left?”

Answering Lewis’s questions wasn’t always easy, but I
really
didn’t want to answer this one. I wanted to lie, but I couldn’t do that.  I hesitated, trying to buy time to think.  Then I asked a question of my own:

“Sir, would you mind if, just this once, I’m permitted to avoid the question?”

Lewis moved his chair closer to mine. He wasn’t pleased. I realized that I had made a mistake by attempting to avoid his question.  After all, it was breaking our underlying agreement. I had agreed, explicitly from day one, to answer ALL of his questions with total honesty, and here I was begging off one. I fucked up. I knew it was pointless to apologize, so I sighed and waited for the punishment that was sure to come. Lewis reached under the table cloth, and started to hike up my skirt.  Luckily our table was hidden from much of the commotion in the restaurant, and no one could see or notice what he was doing. My thigh was soon fully exposed, but still under the table. There were three small candles burning, each in a glass that resembled a shot glass. Lewis poured the excess wax from two of the glasses into the third, and I knew what was coming. The only question in my mind was that of ‘distance’. The difference between pouring wax from six inches above the skin, versus say, two inches – is huge. Lewis moved the glass to my thigh. Oh fuck. He rested the glass on my skin, and then tipped it over. The hot wax poured onto my inner thigh. And there was a good dollop of it! Three glasses worth. If not for being in a restaurant, I would have screamed. I bit my lip so hard I thought I tasted blood. The wax was hot as hell! It poured along my inner thigh leaving a trail of pain as it went. In fact, while I didn’t know it at the time the skin would peel in the days to come. The pain was a rude awakening as to what would happen if I dared refuse a question again. I fought back tears and whispered my apology over and over.

I knew I was forgiven when
Lewis allowed me to redeem myself.

“Not only will you answer the question, you will do so with more detail than usual. Clearly, you’re ashamed about something
, and you will spell out every detail of what it is. Take your time, and tell me exactly what happened after Grekko ended your session.”

Just then our main courses arrived. Over dinner I told him
:

I told him about gathering my clothes and dressing myself while Grekko watched and rested from the co
mfort of his La-Z-Boy. During those few minutes, we made small talk. Grekko asked if I had any other plans that evening, and I told him I did not. He then made a comment that he was too tired to touch me, but if I wanted – I could stay and fuck his foot. Both his legs were extended, and inadvertently I glanced toward his foot which was resting on its heel, pointing upward. I froze. I was appalled and yet, I couldn’t deny I was still highly aroused, even after cumming all over Brutus. Grekko reiterated his offer. He reminded me that our session was officially complete, and I was under no obligation to stay. However, if I wanted to stay and fuck his foot, I could do so, as long as I cleaned it afterward with my mouth and tongue. I turned to leave and, like a zombie, I walked toward the door of his house. Reaching it, I put my hand on the handle. But I didn’t turn. I was telling myself to leave, but my body wasn’t obeying. Instead, my hands went up to my blouse and I unbuttoned it. I kept my back to Grekko until I was nude. I couldn’t look him in the eye, as I was too ashamed. Then I dropped to my knees, turned around and crawled toward the La-Z-Boy.  He had slouched further down. When I reached his foot I kneeled upright and lifted one leg over, so I could squat down on it with my pussy. That’s when I thanked my host: