Learning to Submitbysubmissiveann©
My name is Katherine Steward. My friends call me Kate.
My husband calls me anything he likes and at any time. Yes, I know it's an old joke but it's also the truth. My husband is Thomas Steward but his friends call him Hawk. I am totally, completely and forever devoted to Hawk. He is my lover, my companion, and the only man I have ever obeyed without question, no matter what he demands.
It wasn't always that way. I know you have heard stories of people who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks but I grew up on the right side. I was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth although Hawk often tells me my silver spoon was inserted in a different area altogether. It is his way of reminding me that I am a snooty bitch. I was born with good looks and rich parents. From the first moment I opened my eyes in life, I got pretty much everything I wanted.
Well, not quite everything. I always wanted to be taller but I am what the fashion magazines call petite. I manage only about five foot three in heels but I have a curvy figure that makes men look twice and I have an abundant head of fiery red hair and what I have been told is icy-passionate green eyes. I am not sure how one is able to be both icy and passionate but I have told that by more than one person so I suspect it has a grain of truth.
I was also blessed with a better than average intelligence and breezed through high school and college with excellent grades and always in the most popular circles. I was a junior in high school when Hawk was in the Marines and fighting in some godforsaken village I couldn't even pronounce. I was at my senior prom the night he won the Silver Star by saving the lives of a lot of men in his platoon. I was standing at the altar at the Willow Virginia Methodist Church saying my vows to Paul Reid the day Hawk put in his application for the police department.
I had never heard of Hawk when I was married to Paul Reid. It was probably a good thing for from the very first moment I saw him, something happened to me. I never thought much about fate before then but I have thought about it a lot since then. I believe I was born to belong to Hawk, and I knew it from the very first moment I saw him.
Well, that's a little silly. Of course I didn't know exactly what the future held and that I would one day give my heart and soul and body to him. At first I was sure I didn't even like him except I did know something alarming went through me at the touch of his hand, something I had never felt before.
I met him on the day my divorce was final. It was a grey, overcast afternoon in mid-July. Rain was spattering the courthouse steps and Cindy and I opened up brightly colored umbrellas that certainly did not match my mood. I had my teaching degree but I had never worked a day in my life. Cindy was a teacher at the nearby Willow Elementary School and she had become a friend. Well, that's not exactly true either. Until I met Hawk, I had no real friends. I mostly thought of myself and Cindy was another in a long line of people I used.
I told you I was a spoiled bitch.
Cindy was tall and thin with dark hair and wide expressive dark eyes that reminded me of a sad puppy dog. She was a hanger-on. You know the type. She was the girl who was always at the fringe of the popular group. She tried a little too hard to be friendly. She laughed at the wrong times, seemed uncomfortable when singled out and could always be counted on to be free to hang-out or go shopping or a movie when you had nothing else to do.
Cindy was my sounding board during my divorce and even better, I had talked her into moving into my home when I kicked Paul out. Cindy was a better housekeeper than I was and she somehow ended up doing all the cooking and cleaning. (Yeah, wonder how that happened.) She was a neat, quiet roommate and I didn't have to put out for her. In some ways, I thought my divorce had worked out better for me.
What I needed mostly that afternoon was a drink and I directed her cab driver to one of my favorite bars, a place called Odd Jobs about a mile from where I lived. It was quiet and cozy and the drinks were strong. It was a place I felt comfortable and familiar. A lot of wealthy women from the suburbs dropped into Odd Jobs and there had been a lot of long afternoons spend drinking and talking. One of my friends was already at a table and impatient to hear about the divorce. I ordered a vodka martini and then another. I felt a little bit like getting drunk.
It was one of those days when a lot of neighborhood women seemed to be stopping off for a drink after shopping or work and we soon had a full table. Most of them wanted to gossip and mostly about my divorce. I think some of them were enjoying it a little too much, with a tone in their voice that said, "I may not be as good looking as you, bitch, but I know how to keep my man happy."
I was in a really unhappy mood when the door opened and Jumbo Bale came in.
Jumbo Bale gives pond scum a bad name. I have known him since high school. Well over six foot five; he was a bully in high school because his size and bulk intimidated smaller people. He hadn't changed much except he wore better clothes and drove a fancy sports car and thought he was God's gift to women.
"Hello ladies," he said.
"Oh hell, Cindy," I said. "I told you not to turn over that rock. Look what crawled out."
His eyes narrowed in anger. "You don't have to talk to me like that. One of these days you'll get yours."
"Maybe," I said, "but not from you."
Everyone at our table giggled and his eyes grew cold, but of course he wasn't smart enough to think of a good comeback. Frustrated, he turned on his heel and went to another table at the bar and sat down with a couple of men.
"Oh, you hurt his feelings," one of the girls said at our table, and we all laughed again.
I forgot about him. I concentrated on my drinking. The conversation got more raucous concerning men. I knew I had already had my limit when the bartender brought more drinks, but I didn't stop. I kept thinking that I'd have one more and stop and the alcohol should have been making me feel better but instead it was making me more moody and irritable by the moment.
"Don't look now but the men at Jumbo's table are staring at you," Cindy told me.
"The rest of don't have a chance when you're around," another woman at the table complained. "It's like the really old song; they only have eyes for you."
"That didn't stop Paul from banging his slut of a secretary," I said bitterly.
Cindy patted my arm sympathetically. "Sometimes men are just crazy. They start looking for something different."
I wasn't looking for sympathy or understanding from a woman who had never had a long term relationship with a man.
"How the fuck would you know what men want?" I said irritably, and Cindy pulled her hand back as if her fingers had been scalded.
I hadn't meant to start something but then the rest of the women at the table pounced on Cindy like starving wolves. Cindy was ten years older than me, and wore her insecurities like a medal around her neck. Her awkwardness in social situations often left her standing like the proverbial wallflower in the corner. As far as I knew, she seldom dated and had never had a long term relationship with any man.
A few of the comments the other ladies directed at Cindy were really getting cruel and I wanted to stop it but the more I had to drink, the angrier I got at life and everyone around me. The truth is Cindy had gotten awfully close to something I was feeling. Had Paul strayed because I wasn't woman enough? I knew Paul wanted things, kinky things, sometimes, and I hadn't been accommodating. Honestly, deep down, I don't like sex that much. Oh, I didn't mind it and I got off sometimes but it wasn't the most important thing in my life as it sometimes seemed to be to Paul.
"I bet you've never even sucked a dick," one of the women said, and I gasped at the crudity. It also made me aware of how drunk we were getting. It was not the kind of language sober teacher types used at a restaurant like Odd jobs, especially when it was said loud enough for other customers to hear.
I couldn't hear how Cindy responded because it was in a pathetic little whisper and there were tears in her eyes. I thought of the ignominy of having to defend yourself about doing something that I found disgusting. Sure, a few times I had kissed the head Paul's prick and even took it into my mouth but it was always a prelude to sex, and only then because he begged.
"You're just a little nerd," the woman said.
Cindy might have answered but then the men's voice at the other table became louder and we realized there was an argument going on. I looked in that direction and saw, through blurry vision, that Jumbo had grabbed the shirt of a man at his table and they were yelling at each other. Let's take it outside, someone said, and everyone in the bar moved outside and into the back, a stumbling, laughing, drunken crowd yelling for a fight.
It was a very quick fight. Jumbo was a bully but he was a bully who knew how to use his fists. He used them effectively on the smaller man, dancing around, mocking him, jabbing with his left and punching with his right, and then moving inside and slamming an elbow into the man's chin. The other man went down on the chin and Jumbo beat on his chest and bellowed like he was Tarzan.
I thought we would go inside but one of the teachers with me started saying something like Jumbo should be rewarded and then the crowd was yelling reward, reward, reward, and someone pushed Cindy in the back into the middle of the circle.
"Suck his dick, honey," one of my drinking companions said. "You said you knew how."
Okay, this is insane, I thought. Things like this do not happen in real life. I was scared for Cindy and yet I also felt something else, something wild and a little exciting. There was something primal about what was happening, something darkly evil. Mob mentality took hold and we moved in a tight circle around Cindy and Jumbo
Cindy was terrified. She stood trembling and white-faced as Jumbo stepped over the still prone, motionless body of the man he had knocked down. He towered above Cindy and she took a step back. She looked at me, begging for help with her eyes. I felt a hand on my elbow and looked at one of my teacher friends. Her face was flushed with a heated excitement. "Let her suck him," she said, and then everybody began to say it, including me. "Suck him, suck him, and suck him."
Jumbo put his big hands on Cindy's shoulders and pushed her down in front of him. He had a bull like strength and though Cindy resisted, she found herself on her knees in the gravel. Cindy tried desperately to crawl away but Jumbo grabbed her by the hair. With one huge, ham like hand, he lifted her head up by the hair and stepped forward to rub the front of his pants against her face.
"Suck him, suck, suck, suck," the crowd whispered in a mindless chant that sounded musical, like some ancient ritual before a sacrifice. Just about everyone had too much to drink. This is insane, I thought again. This can't happen."
"Is that right, Cindy," Jumbo said. "You going to take it out and suck me?"
He moved her head from side to side so that her lips kept rubbing the front of his pants. He was laughing.
"Please don't do this," Cindy said.
He ignored her as he unzipped himself. His thick chunk of meat popped out of his jeans immediately. He was already half-hard and it seemed like I could smell the strong pungent odor of his cock meat from where I stood, sweat and leaking cum.
"They want you to suck me," Jumbo told her. "They want you to reward me."
We were still chanting. Cindy looked directly at me. So did Jumbo. I saw something in his eyes, something terribly frightening that made me step back as if a blow had struck me.
"Your friend wants you to suck me," Jumbo said.
Cindy looked at me one last time, pleading, and I licked my lips, and said, "Yes, suck him, Cindy."
I am not sure why I did. I was excited and a little afraid of the situation. I had the sense Jumbo was capable of even more violence and he was already angry. When I think back on it, I know that I gave Cindy up as some sort of offering to appease Jumbo's wrath. I saw Cindy shrug in resignation and then tears come to her eyes but she turned her head and tentatively took Jumbo's fat cock between her lips.
"Look at me, bitch," Jumbo demanded.
Cindy looked up at him with those puppy eyes.
"Don't just suck it. Start by licking it all over. Show all these nice people what a fine cock licker you can be."
Cindy kept just the head of his cock between her lips and didn't move. Jumbo's cock seemed to get even bigger, harder.
"Now I heard you telling the ladies at your that you were a wonderful cock sucker. Were you lying?"
Cindy spent a few seconds licking up and down his prick, sucking at his balls, letting us see her long pink tongue work at his cock flesh. He gripped her hair harder.
"That's nice. Now do me, bitch," he said, and he looked right at me and I saw the hate and fury in his eyes and I knew he was remembering us laughing at him in the bar. I grew so scared I felt my knees almost give. I knew without doubt if he couldn't have Cindy, he would have me.
I thought Cindy could handle it better.
"Do him, Cindy," I said. "Go ahead. Please."
Cindy knew. The sick realization was in her face that I was trading her for me, and she gave a soft sob and turned her head and took Jumbo's cock into her mouth. I think everyone was surprised that Cindy did know how to suck cock. She first took his prick deep into her throat and he groaned loudly. Then she pulled her head back and started licking him like a lollipop. She covered his prick her spit and moved down to his balls and sucked and licked on them until his cock grew completely rigid. Then she slipped her tongue back up the side of his prick and she took his head into her mouth again.
"Oh fuck, bitch," Jumbo. "Suck that cock."
Cindy's head started bobbing. I thought it would be something like a porn movie Paul had once convinced me to watch but this was different. It was the smell and sounds and sense of her as she slid her lips up and down his prick meat. Other people groaned. I should have been ashamed but watching it happen was better than any porn movie Paul had ever convinced me to watch. My knees felt weak. I was licking my lips and even though I might not normally have sex on the brain, I had it on the brain for that few minutes.
Jumbo was getting out of control, moving his hips like a pistol and ramming his thick meat into Cindy's lips with each stroke. Cindy didn't try to escape and though she gagged a couple of times, she kept her lips locked around his prick and never pulled back even when we all knew he was getting ready to come. I knew I could have never kept his cock in my mouth if he had been close to coming. At the first taste of his pre-cream I would have thrown up.
Yet, Cindy took it all.
"Fuck," Jumbo cried. ""Fuck, I'm coming."
I wanted to turn my head away. I t was like watching a slowly developing train wreck. He moved forward and his hand grabbed the back of her head tightly and he gave one last thrust. I heard Cindy gag and then the sounds of her swallowing and then she was gagging again and he finally released her so she could catch her breath. But she kept her mouth on his prick and she sucked out the rest, as if to show us she could suck cock and there was a small smattering of applause but it was half-hearted, as if all of us were sobering up and everyone was realizing what we had done.
But Jumbo wasn't finished. Cindy drew her head back finally but Jumbo's cock was still hard and throbbing and he was laughing. "Now I'm going to have some pussy," he said. "You all want to watch me fuck this little cunt."
It was going too far and there were voices raised in protest but Jumbo was not human any longer. He was a violent beast and he lifted Cindy to her feet and ripped her blouse down the front. Cindy was in a panic. She had reluctantly gone along with sucking his prick but it was obvious she was not willing to fuck him. A couple of the men stepped forward to stop Jumbo but one scathing look and they fell back sheepishly into line. I knew nobody was going to stop him. It would be like trying to stop a caged tiger.
Jumbo was feeling Cindy's breasts through her thin white bra and I knew she was going to end up on her back getting ravaged by this powerful man and there was nothing anybody could do.
But inn that moment a man stepped through the circle and changed my life forever.
He was tall and slender with short, dark hair. He was not in uniform but he carried an unmistakable sense of authority. He moved with an animal's grace and I saw Jumbo take an involuntarily step backwards as the man came toward him. Hawk was angry, and seeing Hawk angry is an unforgettable experience. Jumbo was no coward, and he had been in hundreds of fights but he had never known anyone like Hawk. Nor had I.
"Let her go," he said.
Jumbo had lost his nerve only for a moment. He was still twice as big as the man who faced him and he held Cindy in front of him, one hand moving up to her breast to squeeze it like she was some kind of trophy. "You want a little piece of this too?"
Hawk moved and I never really saw what he did, but Jumbo was suddenly sitting on the ground on his backside looking up with a stupid expression. It took Jumbo a moment but he finally realized he had somehow been knocked down, and he came up with a roar of savage rage. We all thought we were going to see the stranger trampled, but the slim man stepped back, punched twice and Jumbo was sitting down again, his nose bloody.
"Bastard," Jumbo said, shaking his head.
I'm not really sure if Jumbo was brave or stupid but he jumped to his feet again. He went into the classic boxer's stance and gave a couple of short, half-hearted swings, but he was not match for the lean young man. This time the man went into Jumbo with a flurry of fists and Jumbo held up his hands to protect himself. The slim man kept hitting Jumbo until Jumbo sat down again, completely beaten.
"Get up again and I'll break your arm," Hawk said. He turned to Cindy and the ugly scowl on his face was replaced by a gentle expression. "You okay?"
"Yes," she said weakly.
"I don't know what happened but you wish to file charges," he said.
Cindy's face turned a bright red. "It wasn't rape," she said. "He didn't make me do anything."
Cindy looked accusingly at all of us. "It wasn't him that started this. It was my so-called friends.'
"Some friends," Hawk said, and his eyes found me and it was like he was looking into my soul. I stepped away from the crowd. I wanted to run. He took Cindy gently by the hand and brought her over to him. He put her hand in mine and the touch of his hand sent electric shivers through me.
"Be a better friend from now on," he said.
There was no more drinking that night. I drove Cindy back to the apartment. We didn't talk much. She did tell me the name of the man who rescued her and the fact he was a policeman. I couldn't get him out of my mind. In fact, I couldn't keep him out of my mind for days after that. I tried to talk to Cindy but even though she was friendly enough, there was a wall built up between us. She knew I might have been able to stop what happened.
Thinking about Hawk consumed my day and I finally realized I was going to have to see him again or go crazy. I drove by the police station downtown a couple of times and I started eating my lunch at some of the same places the policemen frequented. Around a week later Hawk came in with a friend and they sat at a corner table. He was even more impressive in his dark blue uniform with his Lieutenant's bars on the collar. He was talking and laughing with a man in civilian clothes when I approached his table.