tagBDSMAn Unwilling Submission

An Unwilling Submission


This story deals with themes of female domination including reluctant sexual participation. If you think you may be offended please try another story.

Chapter 1

There were two uniformed guards on the gate and I could tell from the smirks on their faces that they knew.

The man was huge, not someone to be argued with, and he dwarfed his female companion. She looked too pretty for the job and her uniform was, perhaps, a little tighter than it needed to be.

They made me turn out my pockets but there was little to show; car keys, wallet, mobile phone and a spiral bound note pad. The instructions had been very specific. No recording devices; everything to be written down the old fashioned way.

The man asked me to raise my arms before patting me down very professionally. When he checked inside my legs he felt it and he turned to his partner theatrically. "Well what do we have here? I think you'd better check this out."

I bit my tongue and let them have their laugh. The woman knelt in front of me, her face level with my crotch, and she traced the same path up the inside of my legs. When she reached the top she patted the front of my trousers and then squeezed a little to determine the shape. "A regular iron man."

Her colleague now made no attempt to hide his amusement and laughed as he ushered me through the arch of the metal detector which beeped its inevitable warning.

I retrieved my belongings, with what little was left of my dignity, and as I made the short walk to the house, I reminded myself that, if I got this right, it could be a career defining moment.

A discrete CCTV camera checked me out as I rang the bell and then the door was opened for me by "DeeDee" herself. She was as stunning in the flesh as she was in the few photographs on the press files. She was only three or four inches short of my own six foot plus and the rumours that she had started out as a prospective model were probably well founded.

I knew that she was somewhere in her mid twenties but her strictly business-like demeanour made her look more mature. Her make-up was impeccable and her blonde hair was expensively styled. The short, loose, curls framed her face perfectly setting off her natural South African tan.

As she led the way through the house I tried to curb my lustful thoughts by remembering that this woman held a masters degree from Yale and, at a guess, was probably earning at least ten times more than me.

She showed me into a day room with full height windows presenting a beautiful vista. The centrepiece of the ornamental gardens was a towering fountain which was fed under natural pressure from the lake than shone in the distance.

There was no small talk. She took a seat at the edge of the room and opened a laptop as if I was not there. For my part I idly examined the various objets d'arts that adorned the impressive fireplace and speculated on their value.

A moment or two later the door to an adjoining room opened and Vetris entered. I had prepared for this moment but I was still in danger of being awestruck. She had clearly come straight from the gym. She wore a simple cropped top and track bottoms but I also noted her footwear. Where I might have expected a designer brand she was sporting an expensive but functional pair of trainers preferred by professional athletes. She was perspiring a little and had a towel around her neck but she was still achingly beautiful. Depending on what you believed she was now nearly forty but she was still one of the most popular musicians in the world.

She was a stark contrast to her personal assistant. Somewhere, in the not too distant past, she had some Levantine blood in her veins and this was evident in her sultry dark colouring and her famous curves. She had never married and rumours abounded that she was involved in a lesbian relationship with DeeDee but this was at odds with some of the very high profile men with whom she had been linked.

She gave me a cool, clinical, appraisal without inviting me to take a seat and she made me conscious of myself in a way that was not normally a problem. I work on my physique and have, what I am told, are cheeky good looks. I have certainly used them to my advantage at different times in my career but she made me feel like just another pretty thing.

"I will allow you fifteen minutes, no more, and I reserve the right to review and edit your copy before it goes to print." "Agreed" What else could I say? She had not conducted a one to one interview in living memory and here was I, a relative nobody, on the verge of the scoop.

A slight smile played over her full lips which, even without the benefit of makeup, oozed seductiveness. "Well, let's see the proof."

This was the moment I had dreaded. I moved closer so that she could reach out and touch but I hoped that she would be too fastidious. I suspected that she already knew, from her security team, that I had kept up my side of the bargain.

"I said I want to see it." There was a slight edge to her voice and, for an instant, my pride almost made me refuse but I had come too far to back out now. I cast a glance at DeeDee but, despite the apparent bizarreness of the situation, she still seemed engrossed in her laptop.

I felt myself blush as I unbuttoned the new Levi's that I had bought in honour of the occasion and pulled them down a little way.

"...and the pants." I was wearing white Calvin Kleins and they were tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination but she was not to be denied. I eased them down to reveal my imprisoned manhood.

I am fairly well endowed but the clear acrylic tube somehow made me look less impressive. Fortunately, my embarrassment got the better of me and arousal was out of the question.

"DeeDee, you need to come and see this." I felt my cheeks redden. I had played out this scenario in my mind a number of times but I had always assumed that Vetris and I would be alone. Her assistant rose unhurriedly and walked across the room. She looked at the tube with barely concealed amusement.

"It looks a little tight. Is it painful?" There was no point in lying. "It can be."

She seemed to think about this and brought her hand up to her throat. She was wearing a tailored, charcoal, jacket over a crisp cotton blouse and, as I watched, her fingers found the top button. With studied deliberation she undid it and then proceeded to unfasten two more.

I was favoured with a view of the curve of her breast and a teasing glimpse of a lacy bra. Under normal circumstances I might have found this mildly titillating but the situation was far from normal. Knowing that she had deliberately set out to create an effect I found myself unwillingly aroused.

I felt my manhood trying to unfurl followed by the painful cramping that I had become familiar with over the course of the past seventy-two hours. She saw me wince and she responded by steepling her fingers to reveal just a little more of her smooth amber skin.

"You're making him over excited. I think we'd better get on with it." DeeDee smiled and readjusted her clothing before going back to her laptop. I, for my part, did up my trousers and sat down opposite Vetris.

"Okay, where would you like to start?" For the next quarter of an hour I scribbled shorthand as she answered my questions. On the face of it they were innocuous but I tried to tease from her something new, something that was not already in the public domain. She proved stubbornly resistant and I did not help my own cause by constantly trying to steal glances at her all too desirable body.

As my time ran out I felt dissatisfied but just the fact of the interview and the promise of a photograph of the pair of us to mark the occasion would guarantee a huge amount of kudos.

Vetris cast a glance at the mantel clock. "I think our time is up." She must have registered my disappointment because she leaned forward with her entwined fingers beneath her chin. There was a pregnant pause before she broke the silence. "What if I were to give you a real story? Not just something for your music paper, something exclusive that you could sell to the tabloids. What would you be prepared to do?"

My heart beat faster. This was something I had only dreamed about. I laughed nervously as I replied. "Short of murder, pretty much anything."

She smiled, but there was something in her eyes, something I could not quite fathom. "DeeDee, come over here." She came and stood between us towering over me as I remained seated. "Is there anything that you would like him to do for you?"

She seemed to ponder the question as she looked down at me. "He has a nice mouth, very kissable lips." I was taken aback. Was she suggesting that the price I would have to pay would be a kiss? At any other time I would have jumped at the opportunity but now there was Dominique to consider. We had not known each other long but there was no doubt that I had feelings for her.

Vetris sat back in her seat. "Why don't you try him?" Being spoken about as if I was merely an object rankled with me but I tried not to let it show.

DeeDee turned to face me...and then my mouth went dry. Without taking her eyes from mine she reached for the fastening of her skirt. She flicked it open and then slowly unwound it from her hips.

My immediate thought was that she had spectacular legs. She was not wearing hose and why should she? They were smooth, beautifully tanned, and within a couple of heartbeats I was suffering the pains of a thwarted erection.

The animal in me wanted to put her across the chair and take her with all the anger of my pent up frustration but, for that to happen, the tube had to be removed. This was tempered by the more rational part of my mind which could see that I was being used.

As the different influences vied for supremacy I was left staring at her underwear. Outwardly, her clothing was consummately professional but her panties would not have looked out of place in a brothel.

They were made of very fine pink silk and I was guessing that they were commensurately expensive but what struck me was the spreading patch of dampness that was discolouring them.

Almost instinctively my nostrils twitched and I caught the scent of her arousal which only served to send more blood pumping south with the inevitable outcome.

My hand went to my groin as the pain grew but she seemed determined to add to my misery. She teased her panties down her legs and then stepped out of them.

She stood with her legs slightly apart inviting my appraisal and my eyes were drawn to her sex. She had a smooth mound with a neat slit surmounted by a razor cut triangle of blonde hair.

She was also sporting a tattoo and it took a second or two to make sense of it. It was a small, finely worked, representation of a springbok and it was inked in such a way that it appeared to be grazing on the light growth.

It took an effort to tear my eyes away but when I did it was to find Vetris was looking at me with a mocking smile. "She's beautiful isn't she?"

These women moved in a world that was slightly surreal at the best of times but they looked frighteningly at ease with the situation and I was left a little unnerved. DeeDee stepped towards me. Still in her high heels and half dressed she, nevertheless, still exuded sex appeal.

I was at a loss. Was it all a joke? Would they suddenly laugh and then send me away? I started to get up, to try and re-establish my physical presence if nothing else, but she put a hand lightly on the top of my head. "Stay there. You're going to eat me."

Her casual self assurance was alarming but, at the same time, it resonated with something deep in my psyche. My manhood tried to lurch from its cage and I gasped through gritted teeth.

I was just inches from her sex and now certain that she had applied perfume to the inside of her thighs. It was redolent of exotic orchids but it perfectly complemented her natural scent. It was a heady mix and I knew that if I did not act quickly I would be totally ensnared.

As if reading my mind Vetris spoke again. "The Prideau affair...I can let you have a photograph" If anything was guaranteed to get my attention that was it. The Prideau trial had been all over the news for weeks; if she had a photograph that could be used to contradict the outcome it would be gold dust.

I looked at her not knowing which question to ask first but she forestalled me. "Make it nice for DeeDee and we'll talk about it afterwards."

I still felt guilty about Dominique but this was not an opportunity that I could afford to forsake. I was even prepared to overcome my mild aversion to oral sex. DeeDee let her hand slip to the back of my head and applied a gentle but insistent pressure.

I allowed myself to be drawn in until my lips touched her sex. There was a forbidding firmness about it but I presented my tongue and gave a first tentative lick.

The initial taste was unexpectedly sharp and I recoiled a little but her hand kept me firmly in place. I tried again, this time using the flat of my tongue to trace a path along the whole length of her sex. "That's nice. Keep it up."

I fell into a slow rhythm licking repeatedly and I was rewarded as her sex began to swell. "Not bad...but try a little harder."

I could now feel her labia beneath my tongue and there was an increased warmth and wetness. Her goading angered me a little but I kept to my task and applied a little more pressure.

"Good boy..." My tongue slipped through the portal with surprising ease and my nostrils were immediately assailed by her rich pungency. The next breath I took drew it deep into my lungs which immediately clamoured for a fresher draught of air but my tongue was held fast. "Breathe it in...tell me how nice it is."

There was something about her words that suggested a worrying degree of experience and understanding. I had taken another half dozen breaths before she relented a little and allowed herself to relax. "Let's see how deep you can get it."

I thought that I had reached my limit, not least because my awkward stance was putting a strain on my neck, but I made the effort and felt my tongue gain a few more millimetres.

"Well done. Taste me...is it the best you've ever had?" I realized, just then, that this was not so much about any pleasure taking on her part but was more an exercise in ritual humiliation.

Deep inside I encountered a well of moisture. It was heated, zesty, and it broke over my tongue like a wave. By choice, my experience was limited but there was nothing exceptional about her particular taste. It was just that her whole demeanour in some way reinforced it.

"Let me hear you swallow." I had little choice. Her flow had increased quickly and I had to do as she asked else gag. She showed no emotion, save her continued amusement, but her arousal could be measured in thimblefuls.

My tongue was tiring, not helped as she squeezed playfully from time to time, but she was ready for more. "You know what to do next...don't you?"

I was only too grateful to hurry things along and I tried to use my fingers to reveal her clitoris but she slapped my hand away. "You don't touch me...just your mouth and tongue."

I fought down my increasing fury and brought my mouth to the apex of her sex. For some irrational reason I expected her to have a large clitoris but it proved to be both discrete and deep set. I probed with the tip of my tongue and, as I found my objective, her mask slipped for the first time.

She gave a muted hum of delight and held my head just a little tighter to keep me on station. As I worked my tongue slowly I felt the tiny pearl swell free of its fleshy collar and her body began to shiver gently. "That's nice...how is it for you?"

Up until that moment I had given my own situation no thought but she spoke with a sexy huskiness that acted directly on my libido. Normally, I would only go down on a girl on sufferance as a hasty prelude to full blooded carnality and now my manhood was making itself felt. The renewed pain was like a kick to the groin and I groaned into her sex.

This was the final stimulus that she needed. She stiffened for a moment and then her hips jerked in a series of barely controlled spasms. She held me close as she rode it out pummelling my face and smearing it with moisture.

When it was over she retrieved her panties and used them to wipe herself clean. Smiling, she then slipped them into the breast pocket of my shirt where the dampness immediately went through to my skin. "A little something to remember me by."

I was tempted to throw them away in disgust but the damage was already done and I watched as she refastened her skirt. Summoning as much disdain as I could I turned away from her and spoke to Vetris. "The photograph?"

She looked across at DeeDee who was now sitting in front of her laptop. "Show him." She turned the screen, inviting me to come and look, and I felt faint.

The screen was split. To the left was an image of Prideau which, if it could be verified, would make me an awful lot of money. On the right was a high definition video clip showing DeeDee's look of ecstasy at the moment I brought her to orgasm.

Chapter 2

That same evening Dominique came round to my flat for dinner which, in itself, was a new development for me. I could hardly remember the last time I had invited a girl home for anything more than a one night stand.

We had only met ten days earlier but she had already gotten under my skin. She was a freelance journalist and she had walked into the office looking for commissions to review London gigs.

Don, our editor, almost fell over himself to make an impression and I cannot say that I blamed him. If I had to use one word to describe her it would be elfin; she was a young Audrey Heburn with attitude.

She wore a simple skirt that emphasised her youthful legs and a tight tee-shirt over unfettered breasts. The slightly slutty look was moderated by her large, innocent, eyes and her very short sculpted hair which leant her face an almost angelic countenance. I was surprised to find that she was, in fact, twenty four years old

Don, kept her chatting for nearly an hour but I knew full well that he had nothing to offer her. The magazine was in dire straits and he was freeloading while Rome burned.

On her way out she introduced herself and flattered me by telling me that she had read my stuff. She asked if I was going to the Madonna gig that evening and It was with some embarrassment that I had to confess that I was not. Word of the company's financial predicament was getting out and the complimentary invitations were drying up.

She shocked me by producing two back stage passes and asked me if I would like to go. She was intending to produce a review and sell it to the highest bidder. Sadly, her only stipulation was that I did not produce a resulting piece for my own magazine. I guess that she had seen through Don from the outset.

It was a wonderful evening and she seemed at ease amongst the big names back stage. She accepted my invitation to a Chinese afterwards and, unusually, I did not try it on with her but, instead, invited her for a drink the following evening.

We met up almost very night after that. She made it clear that she wanted to take things slowly and, for the first time in my life, I was happy to go along with it.

It was a week later that we talked about ambition. I confessed that I would like to edit my own music magazine or, better still, produce a music review programme for TV. She asked how I intended to promote myself and I was at a bit of loss.

I said that if I could get a couple of big scoops, to raise my profile and some cash, it would be a good start. It was then that we talked about the difficulties of getting interviews with the big names. She suggested that I should ignore the legends and look at the current crop. That brought up the name of Vetris and the mystique that surrounded her.

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