Controlled Surrender

The second day he'd planned her idea of submission, or so he believed. Simple things, as far as he was concerned, not too different than the games they played at home. She was naked, except for the wrist and ankle cuffs. He told her to crawl everywhere unless she absolutely had to stand, like when she made their meals. She had to ask his permission to pee, and he regularly delayed giving it. Every time she went, he told her she'd taken too long. At each meal she had to kneel next to his chair, and he fed her scraps. Her real food was actually meal replacement drinks for dieters; two for breakfast and two for lunch.

There was lots of pain and orgasms. He meted out a couple of her punishments. She put 112 of the binder clips all over her tits, inner thighs, and lower abdomen, with a half dozen on her labia. She had to leave them on while he made her fuck herself with a big dildo. He recorded her, laying on her back on the coffee table in front of his chair, her feet propped up on the arm rests. He made her count out 56 strokes of the dildo, then she was allowed to take off half the clips, except for the ones on her nether lips. He told her he didn't care one way or the other if she had an orgasm.

Then she counted out 28 strokes, took off 28 more clips; he made her wait this time, until her edge was lost then told her she had 14 strokes to cum, or she wasn't allowed to. She managed, just in time and he was rock hard, and jealous of the dildo, when she did. He took over then, giving her the last 14 strokes so deep and so slow that all it did was make her hornier. Then she was allowed to take off the rest of the clips.

That was the morning. He gave her the middle of the day to recover, let her curl up on the couch with him, her head in his lap. He stroked her hair and face, cooed that she was such a good cunt, that she was so obedient. He casually reached down and fingered her until she came again, all the while not saying anything to her, and ignoring her moans and pleas that she be allowed to fellate him.

After lunch he told her she had another punishment to work off. He made her bring him their favorite flogger, crawling with the handle in her teeth. He strung her up by her wrist cuffs to one of the conveniently placed eyebolts, near the sliding door that led to the back yard. He gave her fifteen firm swats on each tit, her pussy and each ass cheek, and then just left her there. He waited an hour and repeated the procedure. He liked using that flogger because it was easy to control the intensity of a hit, and he varied his strikes from soft leather caresses, to vicious assaults that left red streaks and the beginnings of abrasions.

After another hour he came back. She was tired and wary; he knew her arms would be hurting, even though she wasn't suspended and had the give to rise up on her toes or even squat. Her skin had had time to swell a little, and the abraded areas were tight and red. He'd been watching her, frankly a little impressed that she hadn't cried out or whimpered more than she had. For the last set of fifteen strikes on each part he went all out.

He used his strength and technique for maximum effect, trying to get her to cum and then cry. She yelped, and she gasped, and tears did form. He knew that was more pain that she liked; probably more pain than he'd ever subjected her to before. But she didn't curse him, or try to evade him. He rewarded her endurance with effusive praise and a gentle rubdown with soft cloths soaked in cold water. When he was done attending to her skin, he kissed her gently and passionately. He wiped her face again with a fresh cloth and held her head in both his hands to look deep into her eyes.

"You're so brave, Cunt. You're so beautifully brave and strong. You took that so well. I'm so proud of you. So proud of what you're willing to do for me. I'm so grateful that you're willing to do this for me, for us."

She was smiling, a little dazed, a little confused, but the more he talked the happier she felt. The more he said he was proud of her, the more she felt proud of herself.

She was staring right at him, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you. I'm so glad you're pleased."

"Oh, Cunt. Of course I am. And you're almost done."

He unhooked the rig that was holding her upright and gave her a minute to shake out her arms and loosen up her body. Then he led her out to the back yard. There was a picnic table out there that had a pipe frame all the way around the table top; the owners had even helpfully left a dozen carabineers hooked to each side, these were free to slide along each pipe so they could be positioned as needed. He helped her climb up onto the table, laying on her back with her head hanging off.

Then he connected her wrist cuffs to the pipe so that her arms were down and out. When he got to her ankles, he pushed them up close to her ass, and used a length of chain to secure the cuff to the carabineer. He used a couple of lengths of soft fabric to loop around her thighs and the piping, to pull her legs open. He made sure that she could move if she had too, and checked that nothing was too tight. Then he left her there to wonder while he got his last set piece from the living room.

She'd joked about wanting to get a Hitachi wand, but had never really considered it. He'd always thought the idea of forced orgasms was powerfully hot. He wasn't sure it could really happen; he figured that at some point the poor clit would just get numb and not be able to respond. But, if there was ever a time to find out, now was it. He came back out to the picnic table and stopped to kiss the bottom of her chin. She pulled her head up to look at him as he walked around. He checked everything again, and leaned down to kiss her pussy.

Her labia were swollen and red from the morning's binder clips, and the forty-five flogger strikes; he loved it. He stroked her outer folds gently with his fingers, then ran two fingers around her inner folds. He slid a finger inside and found that she was still wet. He heard her moaning softly as he made this exploration and she moved her hips to get more of him.

Chuckling darkly, he called her his greedy Cunt and bent to kiss her clit. He ran his tongue around and teased her with just enough pressure. He was rewarded by her louder moans and a fresh rush of liquid out of her. That's when he turned the Hitachi on and pressed it to her.

She shrieked and immediately arched her back and bucked her hips. He pressed the vibrator harder into her. He watched sweat rise almost immediately and listened as an astonishing flow of gibberish erupted from her mouth. He couldn't have begun to understand what she was saying, but pretty soon she wasn't even attempting words and was just moaning and gasping; was holding her breath and letting it out in long shudders. He stood there, unmoving, encouraging her with his own string of profanity. Making sure the vibrator maintained contact no matter what her hips did. It seemed like less than a minute, and she was shaking and he could see her pussy contracting.

He lifted the Hitachi off of her long enough to slide three fingers in her, feeling the last waves of her orgasm contracting around him. He left his fingers inside her, then brought the Hitachi down on her again. She groaned loudly and shuddered extravagantly, her hips rolling, pressing down into the table and then up again. He felt her vagina contracting against his hand, and watched the orgasm spread through her whole body.

Smiling, proud of himself, he walked back to her head, carrying the Hitachi. He tapped her chin and she opened her mouth, and he slid his erection into it. It felt good to him, being in her mouth upside down, her tongue on the top of his dick, still striving to lick and suckle his glans. He leaned in with his hips and slid his shaft in until he could feel her soft palate, then he backed off just slightly.

He stood still, letting her suck and use her tongue, and when he decided she was engrossed enough in her task, he leaned over and touched the Hitachi to her clit again. She had the same instant reaction, and it was a near thing for him that she didn't gouge him with her bottom teeth. She slammed her hands onto the pipe and sucked his cock into her. She was grunting and moaning around his cock, and the vibrations of her utterances just added to his pleasure. He held the Hitachi in one place until he could see her cum again, which again seemed like it took no time at all. He lifted off and pulled his cock out so that just his glans was inside her mouth.

Then he pressed the vibrator down on her again, angling it so that it touched most of her swollen labia, not just her clit. She went wild under him again, her knuckles white from gripping the pipe so hard, her knees thrashing within the narrow slack of the ties. Sucking him so hard it was like she was trying to remove his head from his shaft. That was too much for him, so he pushed himself farther into her mouth, feeling the air gust around his balls as she breathed heavily only through her nose. As the fourth orgasm coursed through her, he shoved himself all the way in, and now she was arching her back to get air as much as from the effects of the electronic earthquake on her pussy.

He was merciless. He watched the orgasm fade and responded by pressing the bulb of the Hitachi against her harder, and by beginning to fuck her throat. She didn't react as strongly this time, but he could see the flush was still on her skin and her knees were moving rhythmically in time with the contractions in her vagina. After this fifth orgasm, he pulled himself out of her mouth and gave her room to breath. Her face was covered in her saliva and her chest was heaving. When he judged that she'd recovered her breath, he put his glans back in her mouth and dragged a sixth orgasm from her clit.

Because he wasn't so far inside her mouth this time, he understood what she was saying better. Now she was begging him; she was crying that it was too much, that she couldn't take it. He leaned down as best he could, Hitachi still firmly in place.

He growled, "You'll take whatever the fuck I want you to take, slut. You agreed to all of this, remember? You can't back out now."

He stood up, slipped his cock down her throat again, and pressed the Hitachi to her harder. Orgasm number seven was weaker. He pulled out of her and walked around to the side of the table, found another longer length of fabric restraint, and released one of her knees. He laid the Hitachi down on her, so the handle was on her stomach, then he closed her legs and bound them together. With her thighs pressed together tightly, he repositioned the Hitachi so that the bulb of the vibrator was, at least then, pulling her labia open, and the weight of the device was holding it to her clit. Then he turned it up several settings. He watched her twitch and jerk, and noticed that she was crying and not trying to talk.

He went back to his station at her head, pinched her nose until her mouth opened and she let him inside. Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. He fucked her throat. Pulling out far enough, often enough so that she could breath. He realized she wasn't making any voluntary movements, just jerking every now and then when his jostling shifted the Hitachi some. He'd never seen her like this, and while he was exhilarated that he'd made it happen, it didn't want it to be the new normal for her.

He pinched her nipples hard, slapped her tits, slapped her chest, and saw that she reacted to that, she shifted, gripped the piping hard again. He relaxed and pulled out to let her breathe and relax for a brief moment. Then fucked her face some more, finally letting himself cum down her throat. Pleased that she also reacted to that by dutifully swallowing everything. He let himself go flaccid in her mouth, and she cleaned him off by sucking hard as he pulled out.

He squatted down to look at her. Her eyes were watery, and there were streaks up her forehead of tears and drool. Her face was red and blotchy. She turned her head away from him, but he grasped her chin and made her look at him. Made her see that he was smiling, happy, proud of her.

He kissed her forehead, nose, lips, chin. He wiped off her cheeks. "My lovely Cunt. Even now, you're the most beautiful woman I know."

She tried to reach for him, having forgotten about the wrist restraints. "Please, Sir. Please. Can you? Please, I can't..."

"But you did, lovely Cunt. You did. And yes, I'll shut it off now."

He stood, turned off the Hitachi and smiled as a sigh of relief coursed through her. He undid her leg restraints and helped her scoot further onto the table so that her head wasn't hanging over. He straightened her legs, and rubbed her thigh and calf muscles. He took off her ankle restraints, and explained that he was leaving her wrists locked in place only because he didn't want her to try to get up.

He went back into the house, got her a large glass of barely cold water, and squeezed some lemon juice into it. When he came back out he could tell she was still at a loss for words, trying to process the competing sensations and emotions. He unhooked her wrists and helped her sit up. He sat next to her and pulled her close to him. He whispered again and again that he was so grateful that she was willing to accede to these experiences for him. He gave her the water to drink in small sips, and when she was done, he took off her wrist cuffs, picked everything up and went back in the house.

He'd told her to stay on the table, and when he came back out he brought cold cuts, bread, cheese and iced tea. He sat the platter down on the table and pulled up the bench. Then he helped her off the table, and down to the ground, kneeling next to him, just as they'd started that morning. If she was surprised, she kept it to herself. He fed her as much as he ate himself, made sure she drank as much as she wanted. He talked the whole time about what she'd done right, about what he was pleased with. He slipped in a few criticisms, always couching them as constructive information she could use to improve herself.

When they were done eating, he got up and walked toward the house. "C'mon, Cunt. It's time to wash up." He watched her hesitate, and almost stand up. Then she started crawling after him, following behind into the kitchen.

He allowed her to shower by herself, but timed her. She remained naked the rest of the night, but he again had her get on the couch and lay her head on his lap. He absentmindedly stroked her side and face most of the night, and she snuggled into him contentedly. Just before they went to bed, he had her fellate him and he teased another orgasm out of her with his hands. They both slept soundly.

**2**

The next morning when she woke up, he was already out of bed. She was a little surprised, but stretched languidly. She looked at her tits and saw all the bruises forming and chuckled, knowing that those were just the first of many markings she'd have by the time the week was over.

He'd told her that she could have ten minutes after she woke up to use the bathroom, brush her teeth and wash up. She was a little surprised to see clothes on the chair. She picked them up and saw a bright red soft cup bra made of stretchy lace and with a plunge front. When she put it on, she realized the cups were a little small, but otherwise it would be pretty comfortable. There were also bright red stretch lace panties. The last item was his favorite worn out, faded gray, practically see through t-shirt.

She crawled into the living area, and found him sitting in the recliner that was closest to the front door. He was naked, and had put a towel down on the chair; he had one foot up on the coffee table. Next to his foot was a bottle of lube, a butt plug and a vibrator. When she crawled into his line of vision he grunted at her to stand up like a human and come over to him.

He pointed at the items on the coffee table and said, simply, "You know what to do with those. Make sure I can watch. The panties have to stay on."

She grinned, and turned around so that her back was to him. She slid her underwear down almost to her ankles and put one knee up on the coffee table. She bent down so she could look at him through her legs. Then she opened the bottle of lube and started applying it reaching back through her legs with one hand. She worked a sufficient amount into her asshole and then covered the butt plug with it. It was a little larger than she'd worn before, and heavier, but she was able to work it in pretty easily. Then she repeated the process with her pussy and the vibrator, which she recognized as another one of their remote control toys. With everything in its place, she leaned down to look at him again.

He said nothing, but just spun his finger around indicating that she should turn to face him. When she did, she noticed on the floor in front of his chair was a couple of big folded up beach towels. As she looked more closely, she could see the edges of trash bags peaking out from under the towel pad.

He pointed at that, and she knelt down. She was very close to his chair, and that's when she realized he'd also put pillows or something behind him, so that his pelvis was very near the edge. When her butt touched her heels, his cock was prominent in her vision. She looked up at him, and he leaned over to stroke her face gently.

"So, Cunt, today we're going to take it easy," he lied. "I know yesterday was hard on you, and the rest of the week will be at times too. So for today I'm relaxing some of the rules. You're going to be my serving girl, and my urinal. But that's it. No punishments; no pins, clips, or floggers. You don't even have to ask me to piss. You just stay right where you are, unless I've told you to do something. Then you get up to do that, quick as you can, and come right back.

"You're gonna get everything for me that I want or need. My plan for today is to not move from this chair unless I need to take a dump. Other than that, you're gonna get what I want. When I need to piss, I'll use your mouth or your body. When I want to cum, same thing. You understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell it back to me."

"I'm your serving girl, your urinal, and you'll use my mouth to cum when you want. I stay right here unless you've told me to do something for you. I don't have to crawl?"

"Nope. Like I said, walk like you're a human being, since, y'know, you are."

They both laughed, and if she noticed any malice or anticipation in his eyes, she didn't show it. He leaned down and kissed her.

"Alright, Cunny, open up. I haven't pissed all morning."

For some reason she thought that was hilarious, and was still laughing as she leaned in and put his head in her mouth. She'd done this task enough that she knew what he wanted, and used her tongue and a little suction to settle his dick as far in her mouth as she could. Her nose pressed against his pubis, chin resting on his scrotum, she put her hands behind her back and gave the slightest nod to show that she was ready.

As he released his bladder, she felt him relax around her. She concentrated on swallowing, since his morning stream was strong. She had to keep from smiling though; she was trying to remember how they'd started this particular kink. In the moment she was relishing how she felt about it. She knew they were hardly unique, but there was still something so transgressive about it, like it was one of the last truly dirty things a couple could do.

She felt the power in the simplicity of the act, offering herself up to take on his body's waste. While she still hated the taste and the heat of his urine, she enjoyed accepting it. She felt an intimacy that enhanced her feelings. As he was peeing in her, he was gently stroking her hair; he'd sighed with relief, and she could tell he'd been holding it a while. Eventually, he was finished, and she sucked out the last of the urine from his urethra, kissed his head and kneeled back down.