New York City Submissive Female

She faced Phil boldly, proudly, totally sure of herself. Her nipples were visibly hard. He had to mentally remind himself that he was master now, and she was fuck toy.

"There was a reason we went to the hardware store instead of just getting chains at the sex shop."

"Why, master?"

"It was a comic I read as a kid. Wonder Woman Faces the Menace of the Mole Men."

"You want me to be Wonder Woman, master?"

"In the comic Wonder Woman had to rescue these women being kept as slaves. They wore chains in a specific shape. That's what you're going to wear."

Sue had a very tender expression on her face. She held out her wrists gamely.

Phil felt his heart pounding as he cuffed them. He chained them together about shoulder width apart. Her ankles received shackles of similar length. Then he connected the third chain between the other two, forming a sideways H shape. Sue would not be able to lift her arms up higher than her chest, nor spread her arms wide. She could walk, but not run.

And there she was, this beautiful, passionate, and brave woman turned into his stripped, fettered slave. She was his, to do with as he pleased. His cock was straining at his pants.

"First off, act like a slave. Clean my shoes. Just the tops will do."

"Your slave hears and obeys, sire."

She headed into the bathroom, took a cloth, wet it, and knelt in front of him. He didn't remove the shoes as she carefully cleaned them.

"Are they clean, slave?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Clean enough to lick?"

She looked up at him, startled. He met her gaze with a look of pure evil. She looked back at him, her face forming into a defiant expression. She bent down and started to lick his shoes. Phil couldn't even feel it, but the sight of her prostrated made his pulse race and his cock twitch.

He pulled on the leash and yanked her to face him. "Are you enjoying this, slut?"

In answer, she kissed the pillar in his pants. "I'm enjoying that, my lord." She bent down and resumed her licking.

"Now undress me, using your teeth instead of your hands as much as possible."

This was harder than it had been yesterday, as Sue could no longer lift her arms high. It was easier for her to pull his sleeves off by gripping them in her teeth. Likewise for his shirt, biting his collar.

When she pulled his briefs down his cock hit her in the face, so hard was it. Under his mask of sternness he wanted to jump for joy, to scream, to yell. He had a slave! A real sex slave! He could make her do anything!

"I have a little ritual for you. I call it paying respects."

"Your wish is my command, master."

"When I say 'pay your respects,' you will first kiss both my feet, crawl between my legs, and kiss my ass cheeks, both of them. Then you will crawl under me again and kiss the tip of my cock, looking at me in the eyes. Do that now."

Her lips on his ass felt wonderful. The crawling aroused him as much as the kisses. Part of him wanted to jam his cock into her mouth and use her then and there. But he didn't want this paradise to end too soon.

"Look at you, on your hands and knees like a dog."

"Rowr," she said, in a not entirely convincing imitation of a dog's bark.

"Breathe the way a dog breathes."

Sue's panting made Phil drool. "Lick my hands," he said. She started to lick them rapidly, as a dog would, but then took his fingers, one after another, into her mouth, sucking him gently, as if giving them a blowjob. She looked up at him, and Phil could see the trust and contentment in her eyes.

That she was enjoying her own degradation was something Phil could not comprehend, could not fathom. But the asymmetry drove him wild. This was not an exchange of equals. He was master and she was slave. He was to be served, she was to serve. The patriarchy of it thrilled him. The rules were gone, shredded to ribbons.

He took the leash and walked his dog, taking her all the way around the room. "I can't believe you'd crawl like a dog."

"I'm your little bitch, master."

"Bark for me, bitch." Phil amused himself by having her make a variety of dog sounds: yelps, barks, and whines.

"Now you know what to do with what we bought at the pet store."

She took the water bowl out of the bag. He had her fill it with water from the bathroom tap.

"Now drink, bitch."

God! An unclothed, shackled woman on her hands and knees, lapping up water out of a bowl, like a dog. The sight of water brought an odd feeling to his bladder. Could he piss on her? He was tempted to, but that would violate the limits they had agreed to. No. He could not do that.

"See what else is in that bag, bitch."

She stuck her head in the bag and came out with the bone between her teeth. Phil took it and tossed it across the room. "Fetch."

Phil could not believe what was happening. The ankle chains stopped her from moving her legs quickly, and made her wiggle her ass tantalizingly from side to side. But she fetched the bone. Seeing her bend down to take it in her mouth was almost more than he could bear. Dropping it down by his feet and lolling her tongue—

He grabbed her face and pressed her nose to his cock. Not missing a beat, she licked his balls. Suddenly, he pulled away.

"It's going to be hard for me to last long with you, slut."

"Perhaps master would like to read something? Put up his feet?"

Phil sat down in the armchair, while Sue dutifully fetched his newspaper, carrying it in her mouth. She did not stand up, waddling on her knees all the way across the room.

"I will make a good footrest for master," Sue purred. She pushed her head behind his legs, nudging them upwards, until she was on all fours, sideways in front of him, his feet nestled comfortably on her back.

"You read a lot, don't you, master? I can tell by the way you talk. No wonder you're so smart. And I'm so stupid."

"I never said you were stupid, slave."

"I'd like it if you did."

"But you're not—"

"Be honest. Has there been no one in your life you've been tempted to call stupid?"

"Certainly not you. And I try not to with anyone."

"I like being humiliated, master. You're smart enough to figure the rest out."

Phil tried to read the paper, but who can do that with a beautiful sex slave literally at your feet? He closed it abruptly.

"Bathe me, you...you stupid girl." Her face broke out into a big smile.

Getting Sue into the tub was harder than he'd thought. Her leg chain wasn't long enough for her to step into the tub. She finally got in by sitting on the tub rim, then swinging her legs over it.

The running water brought some relief to his flaming cock, softening it. Sue had seldom played with a flaccid cock before. Precum will pool at the top, and she gleefully sucked it off before soaping it.

"Pay special attention to my ass, whore. Wash it as thoroughly as you can." He made her wash it out three times. After she dried him off, he walked her back to the dog bone, then made her carry it in her mouth to bed. He lay down comfortably on the bed, face forward.

"Kiss my ass, slut."

The feel of her lips on his ass earlier had been enervating enough, but now she was kissing it deeply and tenderly. Her hands were stroking him, caressing him, drawing delight down his back. He felt that warm glowing feeling spreading out from his rear all over his body.

"Lick my cheeks," he commanded. As lips turned to into tongue, heat turned into fire. Conveniently, there was a mirror on the opposite wall. The sight of her tongue shamelessly licking his ass humbled him. The feel of that tongue of flame turned him into jelly. Few straight men ever realize how sexual an organ their ass is.

Phil held on to the pillow tightly, emotion overcoming him. He knew what he wanted, wanted so badly he could taste it, a fetish Sue herself had taught him in their chats. Yet he could not bring himself to say it. Sensing his distress, she put her arms around his legs.

"It's all right, master. I want to lick your asshole."

Phil's moan of excitement was the only answer he was capable of giving. Sue pressed her hands to his cheeks and gently pushed them apart. His crevice was open, exposed, bare to her inspection.

Sue giggled. "I'm gonna brown-nose you, my lord."

It was the giggle that made his cock flare, thrusting his hips backward. Sue dug her nose in and slid her tongue out as far as it would go.

And Phil screamed.

There was no further talk of master and slave. No man who feels the power of woman's tongue in his ass can call himself master. For in that act it is the female who has mastery. It is a pleasure few men have ever had, but one that boggles the mind. It is like seeing a total eclipse of the sun, like climbing the peak of Everest, the very summit of the male experience.

Her tongue was in his ass. Who could have guessed? Who could have suspected? In that simple pink tongue, that tongue that eats and drinks and talks, lay a drug more powerful than the strongest narcotic, a balm greater than the most cherished of ointments.

Sue pulled out. "Are you all right, master?"

"Don't stop don't stop oh my god oh my god," Phil babbled. He could not see the truly enormous smile on her face as she dove in for the kill. Deep is the crevice of the ass, measured in nerve endings. Profound is the pleasure, stronger than Phil had known he was capable of feeling. Rich was the delight to a woman like Sue. Great was the pride she took in giving.

Phil could not tell how long she pleasured him, her tongue probing and flicking and teasing. He screamed, he thrashed, his arms and legs flew in the air and pounded the bed. He felt like a toddler, someone simply unable to handle the surge of unfamiliar emotions.

"Stop," he begged, at last, breath heaving, eyes wet.

"How was that, master?"

He rolled her off him and took her in a tight bear hug, trembling, shaking. Her chains stopped her from hugging him back, they dug into his body, but he didn't care. "I can't...I can't even... this is the greatest thing to ever happen to me."

Sue's eyes were wet too. "I'm so glad I could give you that, master."

"Your husband...your husband must be the luckiest man in the history of the world."

"I've never done this for him, master."

"But...why me, then?"

"Because you're my master," said Sue. Phil didn't understand this, but he was too horny to debate. He hurried over to the sex shop bag, forgetting to order Sue to run menial errands like that. Inside were the set of two shorter chains that had come with the cuffs.

He rushed back to bed, then stopped to gape. Sue was lying seductively on the bed, her chains slithering along her body. Almost with regret, Phil began to take them off.

"Why, master?" she asked. Phil didn't reply.

Unusually, this hotel room featured a four-poster bed. Phil now had enough chains to spread Sue in an X shape, using the two long chains for her arms and the shorter ones for her legs.

"Now," he said, "you are helpless. Powerless. There is nothing you can do. Even the safe word cannot save you, because I can ignore it. You are my prisoner, not just my slave. I can rape you if I want."

She looked at him, spread-eagled, naked and defenseless, but unbowed.

"You can't rape me, master."

"I can beat you. I can break our limits and you can't stop me."

Was that a hint of fear he saw in her eyes? It electrified him.

He drew back his fist and aimed a punch, stopping suddenly right in front of her eyes. She flinched, but still did not say a word.

He pushed his fist against her cunt, astonished to feel the quantity of liquid dripping there. Her fear didn't hold back her arousal, it intensified it, magnified it.

He flopped down on the bed and dove between her legs. He lapped at it hungrily, greedily, like a child desperate for ice cream. His tongue was not gentle, it was violent, aggressive, thrusting itself into her like a mini-cock.

Sue struggled against the chains, but could not move. He mauled at her like a dog, playing with her clit and labia, even taking them between his teeth, snapping, sucking, pulling, nipping. She was his, his possession, even if he was down there, and he would not let her forget it.

She was now the one moaning, panting. Her body was starting to shake. At that moment he jumped forward and thrust his cock into her. Yes. At last. The long day's journey into night had ended at last. The endless nightmare of frustrated masturbation was over. Here he was. Pure, unfiltered, bare cunt. It wrapped as tightly around his cock as if it had come from a mold. The pleasure was unbelievable.

She was all around him. He could breathe in her scent, he could hear her chains clinking, her breath heaving as he fucked her. She was his toy, his to fuck as long as he wanted. All he could think of were the sensations of wild, crazed pleasure flowing through his body.

Phil let loose, squirting his seed into her, for the first time in his life enjoying a woman as she was meant to be enjoyed. He could not believe his good fortune. Surely nothing on earth could possibly ruin this moment.

"Oh my god! Oh! Oh!" Sue was shouting out. "Oh, Keith! Keith! Keith! I love you so much!"

Chapter 4

A few minutes later, they had put their clothes on and were sitting on the sofa, looking embarrassed.

"Keith. Is that your husband?"

Sue sighed. "Yes, that's his name."

"And, when having sex, that's the name you call out."

"Phil, I like you a lot, and I desire you tremendously, but did I ever say or act as if I was in love with you?"

"No."

"Are you in love with me?"

"You're my friend, and I have a lot of desire for you, but no, I'm not in love with you."

"I am in love with Keith, Phil. I am married to Keith. Can you understand that?"

"Of course, but then why are you—"

"I know, I know, I'm cheating on him. You're just... you're so desirable and hot and creative — I can't stay away from you."

Phil normally would have had trouble believing that. Then again, he'd just walked her like a dog, and received a rimjob for his pains.

"So why haven't you done this with your husband?"

She looked wistful. "I'd do anything to do this with him."

"Anything?" Phil asked. "How about just talking to him about it?"

Sue glared at him. "Watch it. You're not my master right now. Have you ever been married? Or even in a relationship?"

"No."

"Were your parents happily married?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. Don't lecture me on subjects you know nothing about."

"I'm — I'm sorry," he said. Sue was surprised to see the look of terror on his face, once again the scared little boy. Her heart melted. "Come here, baby." She held him tightly in her arms. "Let's talk about something nicer. Let's talk about tomorrow morning."

"Would...would you suck my cock again?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled. "I'd like to, but it's too great a risk taking you to the office two days in a row. Someone might get suspicious."

Phil looked defeated.

"Do you mind just meeting for breakfast instead?"

"Of course."

She gave him the address, then went over to his suitcase.

"Can you show me your underwear? I love men's underwear."

She poked through them. "Can you wear this one tomorrow?"

There was nothing special about it that Phil could see. "Why?"

"You'll find out." She glanced at her watch. "I really have to go now, honey." She kissed him before heading out.

***

1987 it was. Spring.

"Can we talk about the wedding?" asked Keith.

"Of course," said Sue, her eyes lighting up as usual at the magic word wedding.

"Why don't you want your mother and father to come?"

Sue sighed. She loved Keith dearly. He was a kind and patient man. He treated her with affection and respect. He made love to her gently and tenderly, treating her like a person, not an object. For him, she'd given up her wild cock-sucking ways and walked the straight and narrow. When he proposed, she'd accepted without a second's hesitation.

But god, he could be so stubborn and closed-minded sometimes!

"Keith," she said, "you know my father beat me and my mother let him do it."

"Why?"

"Because of the way I dressed, boys I hung out with—"

"That guy who raped you wasn't such a great choice, was he?"

Sue felt her blood pressure rise. "Are you saying I deserved it?"

"No, of course not," Keith sighed. "I know... I know your parents were too hard on you. But they're still your parents. You're twenty-six now, it's not like your dad is going to beat you at our wedding."

That at least was unlikely. She'd been a little dismayed at just how much her father liked Keith. He'd even warmly congratulated her on her choice of husband.

"I just...in my heart, I know I don't want them there," she said lamely. She couldn't find the words to express what she felt.

"Sometimes you need to use your head, not just your heart," replied Keith.

***

It was a fancy, expensive champagne breakfast place, complete with long tablecloths. Phil looked with trepidation at the crystal glasses and top-notch tableware, wondering if his firm would approve an expense report for this place.

"Don't worry, sweetie. My treat," said Sue reassuringly.

They were seated at a strangely large round table, big enough to have comfortably seated six people. They sat beside each other.

Phil had never even heard of eggs Florentine, but it was immaculate. Sue ordered some fruit-and-yogurt creation, looking at him affectionately as he ate.

"You really love to eat, don't you?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Phil never took drugs, didn't smoke, seldom drank, barely even watched TV. What vices did he have, except food and sex?

He was a bit of a klutz even at the best of times, and more than once he spilled bits of food on his shirt. Giggling, Sue lifted the tablecloth over his body, like a giant napkin.

"There, now you won't have to feed your shirt," she said, laughing.

He rolled his eyes at her and kept eating.

"There's something else I wanted to ask you," said Sue.

"What?"

"How is it that you don't want to do watersports?"

Phil nearly choked. "I thought we agreed not to do anything unsanitary."

"Urine is sanitary," she replied. "It's sterile, unless you have a disease you haven't told me about."

"But it stinks. It's gross."

"Did you enjoy it when we did it online?"

"That was different."

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't real. I wasn't really dirtying anyone."

"But I like being dirty."

"You mean that metaphorically—"

"No, I mean it literally. I revel in doing stuff that's filthy and forbidden."

That much was obvious from a woman who had let him walk her like a dog and licked his asshole. But Phil still hesitated.

"I can't ask you to take a sanitary risk—"

"In the first place, it's not a sanitary risk. It's just something you personally find disgusting. That's okay. In the second place, I don't want to do it to you, I want you to do it to me. Even online, most men I talk to want the other way around, which is gross. I'd never piss on a man."

Phil was astonished to see tears in her eyes, something he'd thought impossible for this strong and confident woman. "Please, Phil. I've dreamed about this for so long. I can't explain why. But please do this for me."

"All right. But that's as far as it goes. No scat. No dirt. No blood. No vomit."

"You're the boss."

Phil sighed and leaned back in his chair. It had been a very good breakfast. Sue's eyes were glistening. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"Dessert? For breakfast?"

"Oh yes." With a sudden, apparently clumsy motion, her fork and knife cluttered to the floor. "I'll get it," she muttered. Her eyes darted around, as if checking something.

Then she crawled under the table, disappearing under the tablecloth.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.