Manipulated into Submission

----

"Stand up, now." I ordered. Stella meekly stood wrapping her arm in a protective nature around her clamped tits and wet pussy. All her confidence had drained away. The clamp chains dangled down hitting her bare torso and her thighs. "What did I tell you to do?"

"Beg."

"Did you beg?"

"No...I-I-" Fear loomed hazily in her eyes.

"Stand under the chain and hold your arms up." She moved to the center of the room where the large hook dominated the ceiling. A thick, sturdy chain draped from the hook and suspension handcuffs attached to one of the links made her eyes grow wide. With her hands raised I noticed I should adjust the cuffs to accommodate her shorter stature, but I went ahead and cuffed in her hands anyway, stretching her body so on her tipy toes she was barely touching the ground. I thought about slipping back on the gag but I wanted to hear her incriminating screams, to hear her beg me to stop, to watch her mouth twist up with each crack of the riding crop.

Within minutes she could no longer choke back her tears; with each merciless crack of the riding crop she shrieked in pain and her body struggled to regain balance. Her hair was plastered to her dewy cheeks and damp forehead as her head tossed around wildly with each attempt to avoid the crop against her skin. Her cool exterior was now broken; she was nothing but a frightened little girl. Now with her head hung low, her body limp and no longer fighting the humiliating attack, I stopped, came around, and lifted her chin.

"Are you ready to behave?"

She nodded eagerly, pleading with her eyes for me to stop. I reached between her legs and felt her heated slickness. I smiled at her and her eyes diverted in shame as she blinked another tear away. "Looks like your pussy enjoyed this." Soothingly, I began to massage up and down her slit as her juices covered my fingers, and bringing them up to my lips, I tasted her sweetness.

"Delicious, I do believe you should get the pleasure of tasting your punishment."

I pulled away and retrieved a large dildo, placed it near her entrance and to my surprise her body tried to lower onto the blue plastic cock; she needed it inside her. Teasingly, I circled her clit while I reached up and tugged on her nipple clamps. Her tears were dried up and were replaced with lust. I slid the very tip of the dildo into her and she squirmed around, throwing her head back, waiting to be violate with ferocious thrusts.

"You want this inside of you, don't you?" I edged the dildo a bit deeper, and a light groan escaped her lips. With one last hard tug on her nipple clamps, I withdrew the tip of the dildo that gleamed with her sweetness and shoved it her mouth, pushing it in and out at erratically. "Now, are you ready to beg me for my cock?" I asked, with one final shove that made her gag on the plastic. She blinked, which I took as a "yes," and withdrew the dildo and un-cuffed her. Feet firmly touching the ground, I pushed her to her knees.

"Beg."

Eyes dropping, lower lip shaking, she was terrified at the thought of following through with such a demeaning order; her tear-streaked cheeks were growing beyond the pale shade she possessed when I first saw her to to a ghostly translucent shade of the dead. Stella began to beg in a much more convincing manner. She rapidly spoke, her voice high and cracking desperately as she tried to grab onto any shred of dignity and control she might have had left. Seizing the back of her auburn mane, I scooped out my cock with my free hand; her moist lips greeted the tip. I wanted to consume her mouth with nothing more than my power. I smashed past her lips leaving her no choice but to opened wider and take all of me. Raping her mouth, furiously pumping away, making her work overtime to keep up with my wild bucks, she started to gag. I could feel her throat convulse around my cock and it was an utter rush of dominance to use her mouth simply as a fuck toy. Her hands frantically reached up to loosen the grasp I had on her hair as her tongue stubbornly tried to keep up with short rushed swirls. I pounded in and out until she lowered her hands to the side, it was a silent submission on her part; she understood now. The last shred of control she possessed was demolished. Slowing the pace down, I welcomed her tongue as it slid up and down my shaft. Her head methodically moved up and down with great care and precision. Rousing warmth washed over every square inch of my manhood and on purely instinctive reflexes she reached up and began toying with my balls. Teeth lightly scraped against my tender skin, she pulled back to pay homage to my thick head and simultaneously we both exhaled low grunts of thick boiling passion. It was explosive. My body tensed as she picked up her pace, her head bobbing faster, my fingers looping around her thick deep copper hair as the edge of orgasm flashed through me with mind-blowing intensity. With one last firm grasp on her hair I plummeted my cock to the back of her throat as I finished. She eagerly allowed my cum to slither down her throat with a half choking gulp.

I have always had much admiration for women who can suck cock well. A woman who can abandon her surroundings and immerse herself in nothing but the exquisite feel of power invading her mouth and simply basks in the glory of pleasing a man with every fiber of her being is definitely the kind of woman every man requires. These women were rare; most women fumble and couldn't suck cock well if their life depended on it. It's an intriguing concept really, women thinking the act of providing a man with oral pleasure is somehow 'dirty' and yet lapping away at their pussy juices is expected of the entire male population. I looked down at Stella's chest heaving as she sedately brought her hand to her mouth to wipe away the remnants of my desire from her pert lips...I felt a stir of respect for her.

"You're going to put on a little show for me, Stella." Her eyes widen with alarm, but before she could protest verbally I placed the ball gag back between her glistening lips as she kneeled before my feet. "Sit on the bed. Spread your legs for me. I want you to finger-fuck yourself but you are not allowed to cum unless I give you permission. Understand?"

She lulled for a moment before nodding her head and positioning her nude body on the edge of the bed, creamy thighs spread wide for my viewing pleasure. I watched attentively as her slender finger came in contact with her stiffened clit. She jerked away from her touch and dragged her fingers down her seductive slit, then brought her newly drenched fingers back to her clit where she began circling it with a light touch. As she added pressure, her body began to flush with a warm rosy tint. The chains on the nipple clamps bounced around with every thrust of her hips as she plunged her two fingers deep inside herself. I could feel another wave of pressure building within me and suddenly she stopped, withdrawing her fingers from her slippery pussy. Our eyes locked in an mesmerizing silence while I let her regain her composure.

"Continue."

She looked shocked, but ventured forward. This time she avoided her clit by tugging at the connecting chains of her nipple clamps while her other hand pulled on the clamps placed on her swollen lips. Gingerly, her fingers plunged back into her tightness, fiercely finger-fucking herself. It only took a minute before she had to stop. I could tell it was difficult for her to pull her fingers away from her pleading pussy; it took all of her effort to abandon her growing fiery appetite. A minute or two ticked away and once again I instructed her to continue. This time, she shook her head wildly.

"You're going to have to learn control, Stella. Either you obey me and do as I instruct, or I will have to devise another punishment for your lack of respect." It was actually a no-win situation for her. It was a cruel tactic, because I knew she wouldn't be able to bear one more caress of her sensitive area without cumming. Not following my orders would be cause for punishment and following my orders would end in with an intense orgasm which would be going against my orders. Tears trickled down her face as she once more and she shook her head "no."

"Unacceptable!" I grabbed her by the arm and heaved her body over the large oak desk I inherited from my grandfather. I recalled his wrinkly figure sitting at the desk when I was a child writing letters to anyone who would listen; he suffered from the condition known as loneliness. He chose to seek refuge by writing detailed letters of his daily life to anyone who would supply him with their address. Truthfully, it was rather pathetic and as I stared down into his coffin at his marbled face I decided, at the tender age of 13, that I never wanted to become a senile old bastard who inconvenienced everyone with dull letters of nothing more than pathetic ramblings. So as an ode to my grandfather, I took his oak desk and used it to bend pathetic women over and fuck them, making their loneliness fade away in waves of orgasmic bliss.

I pulled off the nipple clamps and made my way below her waist where I also freed her inflamed lips. She shrieked, her face contorting into a painful display of gratification. Shoving her face in the rotted oak, my free fingers ruggedly pinched and groped at her engorged clit. This sent her over the edge. She tried to thrust away from me, writhe out of my grasp, her hands clawing at air, fist pounding the table. In an instant she came, and I continued to maul her overly sensitive nub with no apathy. The sound of her stifling moans grew louder as she lost control. She tried to escape the wicked assault, but I persisted and sent her through a spasm of whirling orgasms. Her body submitted. Grinding on my hand shamelessly, rocking against my fingertips with urgency, arching her back with uninhibited animalistic instincts. Pulling my fingers away and releasing my grip on her neck, she turned her head around at me. Eyes puffy, face sodden with tears, nose snotty and red, lip trembling, body perspiring and her chest hoisting up in attempts to welcome the murky oxygen.

"I didn't tell you to cum, now did I? On your knees." She was too weak to even look concerned. Wiping away her tears she stumbled to the ground, using all her energy to hold her body up.

Retrieving the dildo and lube, I placed them down before her gaze. "Lube up the dildo." Moving in almost slow motion, she lifted her heavy limbs and did as I instructed. "On all fours." Looking at me wearily, she adjusted herself on all fours while holding the greasy dildo in her fist.

"You're going to fuck your ass with the assistance of the dildo, Stella. You will learn to follow orders. Proceed." She started to cry again, tears dripping to the floor as her body hunkered down in the dim light. With hesitance she took the plastic cock and reached back, moving sloppily around her ass in attempts to find the entrance.

I looked at the spectacle of the broken down woman. She was irresistible, not one trace of the woman I had met in the bar was left. She was now weak, pitiful, meek and out of control, but most of all, she was humiliated.

---

"I gave you an order Stella, fuck your ass." His voice was muffled by the sound of her own tears. She shakily pressed the dildo against the entrance that was never suppose to be an entrance, pushing it until the tip sank in. She knew all she had to say was the safe word and this whole nightmare would conclude, and she could slap this fucker, spit on him, and tell him he was a fucking disgrace to mankind. Why wouldn't she put a stop to her own humiliation? Was she humiliated or was she excited? No, not excited, she told herself, but the aching between her legs told her otherwise. All she had wanted was to explore the darker fantasies she had been harboring for so long, the fantasies that taunted her during the nights and the fantasies that embarrassed her during the days. Marisole had given her the push, given her a valid reason to surrender to her fantasy; "What is life if you don't have the gull to fulfill your inner most desires?" she had asked Stella in her silky voice as she sipped her cosmo. Stella's boring life had been intertwined with this man she barely knew, this man who now gazed down on her, eyes piercing through her as she kneeled on all fours, fucking her ass with plastic. This wasn't her fantasy, to fuck herself in the ass with a dildo, was it? A small shudder of discomfort convulsed through her broken down body.

"Fuck yourself. Nice and hard."

She retracted the dildo and then pounded it back in despite the dull pain penetrating her virgin hole. Why wasn't she stopping this? Her tears were burning her eyes; she was angry with herself. Angry for feeling a small twinge of pleasure stirring in the pit of her stomach. She had given in completely. The humiliation excited her. She clenched around the thick plastic dildo, an instinctive moan escaping to her horror as she pushed deeper. She was disgusted with herself, but she couldn't stop. She was pumping herself with plastic using quick strokes. She didn't let up, she wouldn't; she would continue until she received further instructions. She was drowning in satisfaction, pain, humiliation and excitement. The feeling of his eyes watching her every stroke made her feel completely vulnerable. To her dread, she felt her orgasm springing to life. She silently was begging him to give her permission to cum. Rocking back onto the dildo, ass swaying and pushing hungrily, she drove the dildo with limitless abandonment feeling as if she was going to split in two. She had no control. Within moments, she felt her pussy sputter warm cream that ran down her thigh and before she could even comprehend what had happened she felt another explosion of red hot passion as she furiously raped her ass uncontrollably and with such aggression it frightened her. Soon her body gave up. Every limb was weighted down with a sultry fog. Dropping the dildo and bracing herself with both hands she sporadically tried to breathe and fight the deafening blackness that was hindering her vision.

"You're one dirty slut, Stella. Fucking your shit hole and cumming oceans of pleasure. This was suppose to be a punishment and instead you came like a dirty slut." He bent over and picked up the dildo she had dropped in an orgasmic flurry and brought it around to her lips. "Clean this off, and it seems you have made a mess all over my hardwood floors like an untrained dog, rather pathetic. You will lick up every drop of the incriminating evidence of your pleasure off of my floor. Then you will stand up spread your legs wide, hands behind your neck and stand in that position until I return. Do you understand?"

Breathlessly she nodded and took hold of the dildo. Without remorse, she sucked it clean and lapped up every remnant of her orgasms off his floor just like instructed. When she stood up in the ordered position, he silently left the room. Her knees were barely holding her up, she was in a pleasure-filled daze, and she continually found herself conjuring up dirty, graphic episodes of what he could do to her. Shutting her eyes, she tried to think of something else, anything else. Standing naked with her legs spread wide and pussy shamelessly aching to be filled, Stella realized her life was incredibly unfulfilling. Work was her life; her pleasure was founded by control. Working hard, working her way to the top, working her way into an office with a pristine view and employees under her control had been her dream. Control had been her drive, but yet she stood in a stranger's house waiting for him to return in hopes of being once more humiliated by him. Something had been missing from her life. Excitement? The unexpected? Sex? Passion? Control? She didn't know, she didn't understand why she was still standing in this room of horrors and putting herself in this position when every muscle in her body was begging her to give up, to leave, to get the hell out of this man's house and seek refuge in the safety of her home. He had called her a fake, was she fake? Had she really been in as control as she thought or had it been an illusion all along?

To her relief the door opened and he stepped in carrying her clothes. Dropping them at her feet his eyes locked with hers. "I see you followed orders this time. You may get dressed and you are dismissed."

"That was it?" She questioned. Didn't he want her, want to have her, punish her for being a dirty slut?

"You don't deserve my cock at this point in time, Stella. However, you have potential and I encourage you to allow us to take this further and reach new heights in the future. But you will have to earn my cock. If you choose to earn my cock, you are to crawl on all fours to the front door and vacate my home. If you want to end this all now then you are to walk out of here. Simple as that. It is your choice but I do warn you Stella, that if you wish to take this further, by crawling out of here you are signing a silent contract to submit to me at any time, and in any place. Your new job description will be my 'Dirty Slut,' and you will submit in attempts to earn my cock." With that he disappeared, leaving her to make her choice.

She stepped back into her clothes and smoothed her hair back into a sleek ponytail. Then without hesitation, Stella got on her hands and knees and crawled down the hallway to the front door where he stood like a stone statue, only moving to open the door. She crawled out onto the porch and when the door shut behind her and she was surrounded by darkness.

----

It had been two weeks and three days since Stella had heard from him. She was consumed with a constant influx of feelings: relief, dread and anticipation. When not at work, she devoted herself to making sense of the predicament she had gotten herself into. Over and over she replayed the last scene of that day, her crawling down the hall and out of the door. She felt vile every time she pictured that moment of weakness. 'A silent contract'. A silent contract that wasn't reversible?

With coffee in hand, she walked past Mike, barely acknowledging him as usual.

"Miss Reed, There is a man in your office who doesn't have an appointment...H-h-he says, um, he insisted on waiting in your office....he made it sound as if he was your....boyfriend? I can call security...I mean I should have-"

"Its fine Mike. Get back to work." She took a deep breath before opening the door. He was seated at her desk chair, hands folded and waiting patiently. Shutting the door, she tried to hide her nerves.

"Stella. On your knees." Moving hastily she obeyed with surprising eagerness. "Your office is rather blasé; I did not expect to step into an office with cluttered trolls lining your computer top, or cute kitten calendars staring back at me. But this Stella, this cold, empty, pathetically dry office says a lot about your character. And that infantile secretary you have hired also says a lot about your character. Either you have no taste in décor and employees or you are so dull and self-righteous you feel the need to distance yourself from the world by surrounding yourself in bleakness and dimwitted people to make yourself feel superior. You are rather interesting, Stella."

She said nothing, purposely keeping her eyes down just like she had witnessed the blonde slut in the porno do when her master was speaking to her. A knock at the door startled her but she didn't dare flinch, even when sheer embarrassment raced over her body. She was not about to let anyone in this company see her on her knees like some cheap whore.

"Come in." He used a soothing tone. The door clicked open, and at that moment she darted off her knees, spun around to meet Mike's blotchy face. A sigh of relief, it was only Mike.