Manipulated into Submission

"Well-"

"If you think I'm sitting alone for the purpose of scouting out for a potential lay, then you have falsely assumed and I would suggest you go back to your table and sit down." She hadn't looked up from her book as she spoke; her words were sharp but methodically spoken. When I didn't move, her eyes cast up, a brilliant shade of fierce blue staring at me, almost burning through me. With her book still in hand, I saw the connection in her eyes as they focused in on me, as if she was silently asking me if I was her 'blind date.'

"Are you usually this-"

"What, charming...and...witty?" The words slid off her tongue, full of spite.

"I suppose when you swing your ass around the way you do you can afford to be a hostile bitch and no one will call you on it."

"A hostile bitch? Aren't you the charmer." She delicately put her book down and dared me with her fierce eyes to take a seat. Without looking away, I pulled up a seat, purposely taking a moment to adjust myself in the hard backed chair. "I'm terribly sorry I mistook you for another sleezy drunk, but I didn't suspect my blind date would be lurking in the shadows watching me like an inculcate boy with a hard-on. So I assumed you were yet another drunk watching me and picturing me naked."

"Well I was fantasizing about you naked, if you want me to be prudently honest."

She let out a low, forced laugh; perhaps it was a nervous habit. "So is this how you cater to all your blind dates? Set up the meet in a shit-hole bar, lurk in the shadows from across the room with shifty eyes, proceed to call them bitchy, then confess you were picturing them naked?"

Her bold manner amused me, as did her female illusion of confidence. I felt the need to drag the conversation out as a means of torturous foreplay. Watching her poise and grace as she controlled the situation with a cool facade made it all the more thrilling knowing she would be handing herself over to me, allowing me to do what I willed with her body. Inviting me into the darkest corners of her filth-ridden fantasies. For a split second the image of her naked trembling body beneath my grasp, the taste of her salty tear streaked cheeks, the look of her confidence that once danced in her eyes being replaced by raw fear raced through my mind...I stopped myself from reveling in my ramped imagination and forced myself to keep control of the task at hand.

"First, keep in mind I had nothing to do with the selection of this location, it was Marisole who picked this spot so you will have to take that up with her."

"Well, this does seem like a place she would frequent."

"Second, the thing is, Stella, I know your looking for cock, and I know you wouldn't mind my eyes scanning your tight and toned body." I leaned back. Her face flushed and her mouth formed into a small shocked "o" shape. "We both know this blind date is bullshit. It is an interview to see if you would be so inclined to get naughty with me. I know all about what you want from me and that's why I'm here. I would appreciate it if we didn't pussyfoot around the point of this so-called blind date." I took a moment of pause to smile at my word choice. "So, Stella, I'm not here to sweep you off your feet and mingle with you over fine cocktails and get to know you. I know what I need to know about you and it is you who must decide where you want to go from here. If you're too chicken-shit to act out your fantasies, then that is fine; but if that's the case, tell me now so I am not wasting my time in a shit-hole bar, mingling with an ill-tempered controlling woman."

She began to tap her fingers on her book; then, realizing her nervous habit, she nonchalantly placed her hand around her cool glass, looking at me as if she was inspecting a fine diamond, or perhaps a piece of shit that somehow managed to cling to the bottom of her shoe. She said nothing for a few beats; she only sipped at her drink keeping her eyes locked on me.

"I can appreciate a man who cuts to the point, but you are displaying rather vulgar behavior and how am I suppose to entrust my safety to someone like you?"

"If I am so vulgar then why haven't you dismissed yourself? Admit it; you are intrigued by my mannerisms, or lack of. You are used to people fussing over you, swooning over you, aiming to please you. I aim to please; in fact, I have never had a single complaint, which I think you know since you did an extensive background check on me. But like you said, I am to the point Stella, I am not going to talk you into anything or help you make your decision; that decision is yours alone. Either you trust me, or you don't. Me being vulgar, in your opinion, may factor into your decision, but I will have you know that I have to be sure the women I service are prepared for what lies ahead. It is not in the woman's best interest if I sugar-coat my intentions and lure her into something she is not fully ready to understand".

She let out a small "Mmm" of what sounded like a hesitant approval before holding up her drink and swaying it back and forth, ice cubes clamoring together. "Would you be so kind as to buy me another drink?" With her free hand she collected her book and slipped it back into her open purse.

"I would love to"

----

Within a half hour we were walking under the night sky. She trailed a few paces behind, purposely, which I gathered was to prevent an exchange of friendly conversation between us; apparently she hadn't been too bewitched by my charm. The clank of her shoes on the pavement and the buzz of the streetlights added a tension that we both undeniably felt. It was all I could do to keep from turning my head back to get a glimpse of her stone-cold face that seemed to fight to conceal all of her thoughts and nerves. We rounded the corner and came upon my house; I unlatched the gate and walked up the door, jingling my keys intentionally to break the silence.

"Remember your safe word and hand signal. It stops anytime you want it to." I opened the door; she walked in as I followed behind, getting a view of her sculpted legs. I turned and crossed my arms with authority as I watched her marvel my home. Her eyes twinkled as she scanned the paintings and photographs that adorned the walls.

"Strip." I ordered, catching her off guard. Turning around and looking a bit stunned, her mouth parted to protest; but she said nothing, with quick recovery her eyes grew cold.

"I dislike repeating myself. I said strip. Now." Of course she had expected to ease into this despite the blatant exchange that took place at the bar. Perhaps part of her still hoped I would offer her some coffee and we could sip it quietly out of delicate espresso cups as she gained the courage to continue with the evening.

Long fingers unbuttoned her coat, tossing it on the hall floor. Her hands then reached the hem of her shirt and she pulled it off, tossing it on the floor as well. I watched her closely as she discarded every layer of clothing; all the while her head was held high, a lethal look of a scorned woman lingering on her face. The soft amber light of the hall cast a glow of pure seduction that danced off her naked skin. She was challenging me, determined to obey my orders in attempt to keep control. Holding her hands at her side, she stood completely exposed to me. I ran my eyes up her legs and paused once I got to the sweetest part of a women's body, that smooth, shaved, delicious looking part, the center of her being. She shifted uncomfortably as she felt the heat of my stare on her bare skin; I lulled my gaze up to her breasts that stood giddily at attention. Slowly, I walked near her, circling her as if she were my prey, scrutinizing ever inch of her, making sure she was up to par. Being an ass man, I allowed myself the early pleasure of swiftly slapping her firm cheeks. She jerked and her breath caught, but she remained still, not veering from my touch. I eased my hand and cupped her now rosy roundness sending a small shiver up her spine and a bolt of electricity through my cock, stiffening it immediately. She instinctively jumped away as my index finger neared her asshole. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her back in place.

"You will not pull away from me. Do you understand?"

"Fine." She snapped in defiance.

"Not fine. I asked you a question, answer with a yes or no."

"Yes."

"Yes what, Stella?

"YES, I understand!"

She stood perfectly rigid in all efforts to remain in control as I continued to let my finger circle dangerously close once more. I often wondered why women were so touchy about their assholes. It was as if it was the forbidden fruit, off-limits, but once they experienced someone taking a bite, they couldn't get enough of it.

"I've always enjoyed a nice tight little asshole." Oh how glorious it was going to be when I tore down those walls of her false sense of control and forced her to realize I was the one in control, and she was nothing but a withering, pathetic, frightened woman. "Walk down the hall, enter the last bedroom on your right. Lay on the bed." Just like she strode into the bar with complete confidence, she walked down the hall wearing nothing but her creamy skin. When she entered the room, she would see the table arranged with a wide variety of gags, clamps, whips, spreaders, and other various toys along with chains and hooks that sprouted down from the ceiling and walls. This was my way of letting her know exactly what she was getting into. I got a rush from knowing she would lay on the bed, eyes wildly scanning the room with terror building under her skin, causing every hair on her body to stand straight up. Stella, of course, would be steadfast on proving herself no matter what the situation; she was not the type to second-guess her decisions, but she would feel the terror build as time ticked away in my little room of horrors.

"Hands over your head," I said flatly as I entered the room thirty minutes later. Keeping her eyes on the ceiling, she obeyed. I placed her wrists in the leather cuffs that were attached to the headboard, and as I worked my way down to her ankles I could feel her apprehension. To help her along, I slid my hand between her tightly pressed knees and forcefully pried her legs and restrained each ankle. I stepped back to look over my handy-work and revel in her helplessness. The silver spreader bar stretched her legs apart, making her bite her lower lip in discomfort. Eyes still on the ceiling, she tried to ignore me. To finish the job, I strapped on a ball gag that made her lips appear all the more alluring.

"Speechless, I see."

Retrieving the clamps I swayed them in front of her face with a grimacing smile. "These will hurt Stella but I think you will grow to like them. First, however, we need to prepare those amazing tits of yours." I kneaded her dark pink tits, pulling, pinching and flicking them. Her head turned to the side as if she was forcefully trying to pay no heed to her hardening tits. "Tantalizing isn't it?" With out hesitation, I snapped the clamp onto her erect left nipple. Her head shot in my direction, eyes brimming with tears. I snapped the paired clamp into place and this time her body wrestled against her restraints. Gazing down at her naked body, I reached down and picked up the next set of clamps.

"You have some gorgeous lips that need to be attended too, wouldn't you say?" I sundered my way down to the edge of the bed where I peered between her spread legs, marveling at the contours of her pussy. Pausing a moment, I lightly dragged my fingers between her moist, heated lips. Her hips gyrated at my touch and I fought the urge to violate her with my fingers and watch her body tremble on the brink of losing control. Quickly, I pulled my fingers away from her pleading pussy. "You are weak Stella; you secretly are tired of being fake, tired of being something you're not, tired of looking for power between your legs. You have an urge to submit, for someone to strip you of your power and escape the perils of being a woman. This is what you wanted, to surrender, remember?" She threw me a venomous stare.

"Now, lets try this again. I asked you a question and you are to be polite and answer me with a nod. These lips need to be attended to, correct?"

She nodded slowly this time, in pure detest. "Good girl." I took the clamps and placed one on her thick outer lip. Her hips bucked, and a muffled pleading filled the room. I ignored the groans and I pinched the next clamp to the opposing lip. I've always been aroused by larger, more defined pussy lips; they made a woman look mature, and there was no sexier sight than clamps pinching on sleek, inflamed, mature lips.

Now she looked absolutely extraordinary. Her auburn hair disheveled and draped over the pillow, her body spread out and displayed as perfectly helpless. She was still fighting to remain in control, fighting her tears, fighting her body's response to my dominant control, and fighting the urge to slip into the unknown.

"You know what you are going to do Stella?" Promptly I unzipped my pants and pulled out my aching cock and straddled her upper body. "I am going to take your gag off, and you are going to ask me to fuck your mouth. If I don't believe you WANT my cock in your mouth you will be severely punished. Are we clear?"

Hesitantly she nodded. I reached around to unbuckle her gag, and a small gasp escaped as she twitched her mouth around, reveling in her freedom. I eased my cock inches away from her sultry pert mouth and waited. "Pleas..." Her voice was low and raspy. "I w-want...I want...." No longer was she a well-spoken woman with confidence and wit, but a beat down hostage, stumbling over her words with fear biting at her tongue.

"What do you want Stella?" I asked sharply, feeling a sense of control at her small, pathetic little voice.

"I want you to stick your dick in my m-m ..."

"You want me to fuck your mouth?"

"Yes.." She opened her mouth, now awaiting my appetizing member.

"I told you to say it like you mean it."

Her voice now sounded even wearer and more fragile as the words 'please' escaped her pouty lips. I moved off her shivering body and with annoyance freed her arms and ankles. Without mercy I heaved her out of bed, her body tensing as she struggled to stand up. A panicked look overtook her as she finally began to beg, not for my cock but for me to spare the punishment she knew she so rightfully deserved.

Punishment was one of my favorite rituals of servicing women; nothing topped being part of a woman's very first punishment. It was almost a right of passage. Some women fingered themselves to the thought of being spanked by a strong hand, but they never quite understand the full extent of a real punishment. Fantasizing about pain and enduring it are two very separate issues. One's first punishment is always a terrifying way to separate fantasy from the reality of punishment; yes, tears are shed, screams of pain shrieked, but the darkness of their desires are fed, their need to submit and be controlled is taken to new levels that more arousing than one may imagine. To simply be a part of one's awakening to the bliss of pain and the deep waters of ultimate trust is exhilarating.

One year out of college, I began to date a stripper who went by the alias of Dame, a rather ridiculous name. I originally thought her stage name was a clever tribute to blowjobs being so close to 'dome' and all, but on a dreary night she told me the mundane story of Princess Dame who had littered her storybooks with promises of happiness when she was a child. Apparently Princess Dame had given her so much inspiration she chose Dame as her stage name. Truly a touching story of a little girl full of hope growing up to choose a career of grinding her twat in a bald man's fat face for dollar bills.

Despite Dame's stripper status, she was not an easy lay. I had to manipulate her into the sack, which had been fairly unproblematic once I gave her the fairytale courtship Princess Dame would have approved of. After months of providing her with expensive gifts, lavishing her in attention, and making slow love to her on a regular basis, I had implanted the idea of light bondage into her head. Two weeks later she came to me in giddy delight proudly swinging a pair of black fuzzy handcuffs, completely clueless that she had played into my manipulation. A few weeks later after an evening of drugged-out fucking she curled up in a small ball, snuggling against my chest. "I like how you're so rough with me," she sighed as she listened to my heartbeat. I stared at the gray ceiling and watched in a state of ennui as the ceiling fan spun around and made a drowning sound.

"I have a fantasy of being spanked," she giggled and I diverted my attention from the ceiling to her girlish face. The wonders of cosmetics had defiantly been a damper on the relationship. I had met her as she danced on the table of mirrors, her face bending down, inches away from mine. Dark lashes peeked back at me, well define sensual eyes glared at me, seductive red lips taunted me, dewy skin glowed with sex. She had seemed so dangerously alluring but I soon discovered after her make-up was chiseled off that her blank girlish face was no longer dangerously alluring, but pathetically sweet.

"Really? I wasn't aware of that. Perhaps you are a naughty girl in need of punishment." It had been a week since I had brought home a porno with an array of tall leggy women gushing loads of hot sticky goo as they got spanked. It was another way to plant the seed into my malleable Dame's head.

Giggles escaped her and she sat up "I have been reaaaaaaaaaaly naughty, what are you going to do!?" Her eyes were filled with adventure.

"I think my naughty girl needs to get punished," I teased in a coaxing voice that brought her to an eruption of annoying giggles once more. She mounted my chest with a grin on her face from ear to ear. "Seriously, We could try it...I mean I will go easy on you, just a few light spankings to see how you like it." It never hurt to play the apprehensive boyfriend who wanted to appease his girlfriend.

"Really?!"

"Yeah...I guess. Should we tie you up first? No, nevermind...that would be a bit over the top for our first time trying this, I don't want to scare you." I laid out the workings of making her feel guilty at the thought of me scaring her. She was desperately needy and willing to do anything to prove just how much she loved and trusted me. It was the insecure bitches who were so much fun to toy with.

"No, you can tie me up and then spank me...that's what happens to nuaaaaaaaaaughty girls, and nuaaaaaaaaughty girls need to get punished!"

Without further protest I efficiently tied her to the bed. She lay flat on her stomach, head cocked to the side and her flawless ass displayed before me. Hastily, my hand came down on her bare luminous ass and a smack sound boomed through the room. She flinched and moaned, wiggling her petite frame around the best she could. Again I spanked her, but with more speed and a rush of adrenalin. Soon enough, I was caught up in the thrill of my manipulation and the spankings increased with a rapture of terror washing over her. Tears soon poured out of her mascara-less eyes as she tried her best to squirm away from my hand. There was no escape and my poor little Dame's annoying giggles had come to an end. With my free hand I pumped my cock and with every whimper she moaned I neared orgasm. Her pussy grew wet as her ass grew redder. Soon an unbearable but welcoming heat exploded through me, and shooting my load all over her, the spankings came to a halt as I panted for air, staring at her swollen back end.

Her teary red face looked up at me. "What the fuck was that? You said you would go lightly on me!"

"I thought we had come to the conclusion you had been a naughty girl and needed to be spanked? I take naughty behavior very seriously Dame. You needed to be punished." Before she could complain in her pitiful voice I rubbed her favorite stop sending her into the thralls of ecstasy.