Pathways to Submission Pt. 01

Pathways to Submission

Introduction: The following stories are 1,000-word scenes with different characters and set at different times and places. They have a common theme of a naturally submissive young woman falling under the spell of a dominant young woman.

Scene 1. Sally's Surrender

As usual for a rainy day, my bus to work is running late, and it is packed by the time it reaches my stop. I work my way to the back of the bus where I can at least stand in relative peace. More passengers board and soon we are playing sardines. I'm in danger of being pushed onto the lap of the man sat in the centre rear seat. Not that he is paying me any attention. Like those sat around him, he is preoccupied with his smart phone.

The bus continues its journey, periodically causing standing passengers to sway and grab hold of the hanging straps. Unfortunately, I've no strap within reach and the handholds on the seats are equally inaccessible to me. I do my best to stay upright without grabbing someone by accident.

A woman in her mid-twenties is standing in front of me. The unspoken rule is for standing passengers to face the front of the bus. Doing so preserves the illusion of personal space where none exists. But this woman is facing the other way, and her penetrating eyes are making me feel awkward.

"I like the way you've done your hair, Sally," says the woman.

"Um... Thanks. How do you know my name? I don't think we've met before."

"We haven't met, but your name badge reveals your name, and your uniform that you work at Trammers," she laughs.

Duh! My clear plastic raincoat reveals my distinctive work clothes underneath, along with my name badge. The store where I work insists employees wear their uniform when travelling to and from work. It's a major inconvenience on wet days as my usual coat isn't long enough to protect my skirt from the elements.

"I thought Trammers had closed down," says the woman.

"Not yet. The store is closing at the end of next week," I reply, recalling that I must make a serious effort to find a new job.

The bus stops suddenly, and I lurch into the woman. She grabs hold of my left arm to steady me while holding onto one of the hanging straps with her other hand. I feel really embarrassed but the woman doesn't seem to mind.

"Here, share this strap with me," she says.

It means I need to move closer, and we are practically touching by the time I can reach the strap. I don't fail to notice that she hasn't let go of my left arm. I feel awkward, but the woman has been kind and I don't want to make a fuss. Consequently, I allow her to keep her hand where it is since she obviously has no intention of removing it from my arm.

My discomfort grows when I realise that with my right arm raised, the top button of my blouse has come open and the woman has a perfect view of my cleavage. I've a decent pair of boobs, but I don't generally flash them about, even for my occasional boyfriend. I need to re-button the top of my blouse, but that's impossible in the current situation. I want to move my left hand to cover my exposed area, but the woman's hand on my arm prevents me.

The bus reaches the congested part of our route, so we will be moving at a crawl for the rest of the journey. I release my hold on the hanging strap and place my right hand across the exposed part of my upper chest.

"I appear to have dropped one of my gloves, Sally," says the woman. "See if you can find it."

"Um... Sure," I reply.

I'm too surprised by her words to do anything other than comply. It doesn't occur to me to say 'look for it yourself' or anything like that. Besides, the woman has been kind to me and complying with her request seems a small favour in return. At least it means she lets go of my arm. I crouch down with my right hand covering my upper chest while I look for her glove. I see it near someone's foot and I quickly retrieve it before it gets trodden on. Mission accomplished; I hand the woman her glove.

"Thank you, Sally. Incidentally, I think you have a fine pair of tits. You shouldn't be afraid of showing them off."

I'm completely nonplussed by her remark. It isn't the sort of thing complete strangers discuss, and certainly not in public. Fortunately, all the nearby passengers have their noses buried in their smart phones and aren't paying us any attention.

"Um... Err," is all I can manage to utter.

"And you should never get embarrassed about showing off your body," she continues. "A young woman like you should use her body to its full advantage."

The woman can't be more than three years older than me, but she has a commanding presence which makes her seem older. I feel as though I'm in her thrall. She's made me feel awkward and embarrassed, but in reality she has shown me nothing but kindness.

The bus slowly completes it journey to the bus station. The passengers at the front start to disembark, but it will be a minute or two before those of us at the back can move.

"My card," says the woman, handing me her business card.

I glance at it quickly and my eyes raise in amazement. 'Mistress Penelope, dominatrix' it says along with her phone number. I look up and see that she is studying me intently.

"Call that number at seven-thirty tonight," she says.

"Um... Err," is my pathetic reply.

"Can you manage that?" she asks, more forcefully.

"Yes, okay... Yes," I stutter.

"Yes what?" she responds.

"Um... Yes, Penelope," I reply.

"No, that's not correct. You refer to me as 'mistress'," she commands.

I nod in response but I can immediately tell that she isn't satisfied by a non-verbal reply.

"Say it!"

"Um... Yes, mistress," I reply feeling a mixture of fear and excitement.

Scene 2. Laura's Surrender

Foxglove Hall is an ancient stone mansion located deep in the hills surrounding the villages of the Darwillow valley. For centuries it has been the ancestral home of the Earls of Darwillow. However, the current earl spends most of his time in London as a courtier to Queen Victoria. These days it is his brother, Arthur, and sister, Matilda, who reside at Foxglove Hall.

I walk the three miles to the remote mansion. Several villagers have cautioned me against seeking employment at the Hall. But I'm in desperate need of paid work to help support my ailing mother and younger sisters. Rumour has it that a young woman hired as a housemaid or kitchen worker at the Hall is invariably discharged in disgrace four or five months later as soon as her swollen belly starts to show. Apparently Lord Arthur has a voracious appetite for fucking his young female servants. I find the servants entrance and I knock on the door. A dour looking manservant answers it.

"I hear that his lordship and lady are looking for maids," I say in answer to the man's query.

"More fool you," he snorts. "Name. Age."

"Laura, nineteen."

"Hmmph," he replies. "I guess you are pretty enough for his lordship's tastes. Come in."

I follow the servant into a small sparsely furnished room.

"Wait here," says the servant.

I'm kept waiting for nearly half an hour before a well-dressed young woman enters the room. I presume she is Lady Matilda, although she makes no effort to introduce herself. She asks me a lot of questions about my family and my past employment. I answer honestly since I've no idea what information she is hoping to glean. Finally, she seems satisfied with my answers.

"My brother will need to interview you," she says. "If he likes you then you can start straight away. All our servants live here. The Hall is too remote to have our staff walking to and from the surrounding villages. I presume that isn't going to be a problem."

"No, my lady," I reply. "I will need to inform my mother and collect my clothing and personal belongings from home."

"You can collect your things on your first day off. We provide you with a uniform, and you can borrow whatever you need in the meantime from the other staff. One of the cooks will be going to the market this afternoon, so she can deliver a message to your mother. Is that satisfactory?"

"Yes, my lady," I reply, feeling that a negative answer would destroy my chances of a job.

"Good. I'm going to suggest to my brother that we hire you as my personal maid. My last maid was careless and I had to send her packing. Unless you want to leave here barefoot and pregnant, I suggest that you take proper precautions."

In Victorian England, it is accepted practise in the homes of wealthy gentry for the lord's cock to have free use of any of his female servants' holes. Herbs to prevent pregnancy are usually available, but they are often too expensive for a young maid to buy.

My interview with Lord Arthur consists of him having me remove my shawl so he can get a good look at my cleavage. I'm sure he'd like me to undress completely, but the presence of his sister dampens his obvious ardour. The size of my pert breasts obviously qualifies me for duty as a maid of the house. Lady Matilda turns to her brother and demands that I be assigned to her as her personal maid. If I didn't know better, I'd think Lord Arthur is scared of Lady Matilda. I know she both scares and intrigues me. I'm slightly afraid of her because I sense that I lack the strength to disobey any order she gives me. She exudes authority without ever needing to raise her voice.

Having hired me and assigned me as Lady Matilda's personal maid, Lord Arthur resumes his work. Lady Matilda takes me to her suite of rooms in the east wing of the house. There are four rooms in her suite, the largest being her bedroom with her private bathroom next to it. A slightly smaller sitting room is adjacent to the tiny room which is to be my sleeping quarters. Apparently Lady Matilda expects immediate attention from her maid whenever she requires it, regardless of the time of day or night.

"First we shall get you into the correct uniform," says Lady Matilda. "Get undressed."

I'm shocked by her request, but as I said before, I'm too much in her thrall to willingly disobey her command. I make a move towards my room but Lady Matilda halts me in my tracks with a single word command 'Here!'. I promptly remove my blouse and skirt, leaving me standing in nothing but my underskirt. Lady Matilda gives me a fierce look and I drop my underskirt as quickly as I can. I stand there like a frightened rabbit, embarrassed and ashamed of my nudity. I cover my breasts and cunt with my hands.

"Put your arms by your side. I'll not have you try to hide your body behind your hands in my presence."

Lady Matilda studies my body up close, but she stops short of touching any part of it. Then she goes into a walk-in closet I hadn't noticed before. She returns with a maid's black and white uniform and sizes it up against my back. Instead of handing it to me to put on, she disappears into the closet again. She returns carrying a device I've never seen before.

"Do you know what this is?" she asks.

"No, my lady," I reply.

"It's a chastity belt. I made the mistake of letting your predecessor hold the key. I'll not make that mistake again. Put it on."

I look at the chastity belt in alarm. But all I can say is 'Yes, my lady' and allow her to lock it.

Scene 3. Rebecca's Surrender

The last week of our four-week holiday on the Italian Adriatic coast is being spent in Rimini. By now our daily routine has been established: late breakfast, morning wandering around the shops, afternoon lying on the beach, and night partying at the various night clubs. Georgina and Fiona manage to attract a host of young men eager to fuck them. As for me, I've been accused of being standoffish and more than one frustrated man has called me an 'ice maiden'. It's not that I don't like sex, but I don't lift my skirt every time a hot male walks into the room.

"Our mission tonight is to get Rebecca well and truly laid," laughs Georgina to Fiona.

"Yeah!" replies Fiona. "How about it Rebecca? Go put on your hottest party dress and we'll go to that raunchy night club Mario told us about."

I don't want to appear to be a wet blanket, so I do as Fiona suggests. In truth, our daily routine is starting to bore me. We are visiting a town with plenty of ancient ruins and centuries of history. Spending the day trawling around the tourist shops, and then providing free eye-candy for the locals and visitors alike, seems a waste of a good holiday.

Our plan for tonight falls apart before it even starts. The nightclub Fiona mentioned won't admit anyone under the age of twenty-one. Since the bouncer insists on proof of age, we are stymied. He at least recommends another club down a nearby street, and Georgina decides that we will try it out.

The Vestal Virgin is a strange name for a night club, but we have no difficulty in gaining admission. It's busy, but we are able to find a good table easily enough. Fiona does a circuit of the club, looking for interesting men, while I'm sent to the bar to get the first round of drinks. On a good night we have attracted enough male company to pay for the drinks after the second round.

I return to our table with the drinks to find Fiona has already returned. She and Georgina are deep in conversation.

"This is a lesbian club," complains Fiona. "That bouncer has set us up."

I take a quick look around the room and I realise that there isn't a male in sight. While I've no problem staying here, Georgina and Fiona are keen to move onto another club.

"We'll finish our drinks and leave," says Georgina. "We can go back to the club we were in last night."

"That club is at the other end of the promenade," complains Fiona. "Anyway, we agreed that we would try a different club every night."

"Excuse me," says a beautiful young woman dressed in next to nothing. "We couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Perhaps we can help you?"

We look at the woman in surprise. The 'we' she is referring to consists of a woman in her late twenties dressed in a sexy leather dress, and two other scantily clad young women about our age sat next to her at an adjacent table.

"If you are looking for male company, then Antonio and Paulo are waiting upstairs. I can arrange an introduction and you can take it from there. They are really hot studs, if you've got sex on your mind."

The offer sounds a bit weird to my mind, but Georgina and Fiona are hooked. But there are three of us, and I'm not into group sex. As usual, I'm the one who volunteers to stay and look after our table and stand watch in case this is an elaborate ruse to kidnap young female tourists. Georgina and Fiona follow the young woman to the far side of the club.

I'm not left alone for long. The leather clad woman and one of her companions comes over to my table. The woman sits down without being invited, while her companion stands behind her.

"I'm Heidi von Dortzer," says the woman in a strong German accent. "Are you enjoying your stay in Rimini?"

"Hi... I'm Rebecca," I reply. "Yes, although I haven't had much time to see the sights. We spend most of our time shopping or sunbathing on the beach."

"Ah! The usual mistake young tourists make. Are you staying here much longer?"

"We return home the day after tomorrow."

"Then Bea and I will be pleased to give you a tour of Rimini's antiquities tomorrow. Your friends can come if they wish," she says, indicating the young woman behind her. "Bea is an archaeology student, and she knows quite a lot about Roman ruins."

"Yes, I'd like that. I'm not sure Georgina and Fiona will be interested, but we can ask when they return."

Heidi and I engage in a lengthy discussion about our experiences in Italy. Bea stands there passively without participating in the conversation. She briefly leaves us to fetch some more drinks for Heidi and me.

Georgina and Fiona are absent for nearly an hour. When they return they are bubbling over with excitement at the wonderful time they had with Antonio and Paulo. When I raise the idea of them joining Heidi and me on a tour of the sights, they refuse. Before we left home, we promised to stay close to each other to ensure our joint safety. But it will be our last day here and I really want to see the sights. I decide to take the risk and go alone with Heidi and Bea.

Our tour of the sights is a great success. Even the revelation that Bea and the other two young women I saw last night are effectively in Heidi's thrall doesn't spoil the day. The notion of such a living arrangement excites and arouses me for some reason, and I don't immediately reject Heidi's offer for me to join them. She doesn't push me for an immediate decision, but I already know that my answer is eventually going to be 'yes'.

Scene 4. Zoe's Surrender

Fourth place! Dawn is delighted with my performance. Given the quality of the competition against me, I feel that I did well. But not well enough to qualify for the Nationals. My fanciful dream of entering the Olympics is effectively crushed. By the time the following Olympics comes around, I'll be twenty-seven, and my age will working against me. Competitive ice skating is a sport for teenagers and early twentysomethings.

Dawn has been my manager and trainer for the last four years. Unfortunately, my failure to reach the Nationals means her contract is at an end. Up until now, her salary has been paid by my wealthy parents, who have otherwise disowned me. My steadfast refusal to train to be a lawyer, like my brother and sister before me, has made me the black sheep of the family. Now I must either comply with my parents' wishes or make my own way in life. I can't afford to cover Dawn's salary, so this must be farewell.

"I hear that there's a temporary role in the Stables," says Dawn as we share a farewell meal at a local restaurant.

Heather Hopkins Ice Show is a small operation of six ice skaters providing a travelling ice dancing show. It's nicknamed the Stables because their performance always begins with the six dancers dressed as pony-girls entering the rink pulling Heather Hopkins on a sleigh. When I first heard about her show, I thought it was some raunchy adults-only performance, but I'm told that the show and the dancers' attire is family-friendly.

Although I gave Dawn a non-committal reply to her suggestion, I decide to make further enquiries. A job with the show will at least mean I can keep skating, and hopefully provide enough to live on until something better turns up. I'm determined not to give in to my parents' demands.

"The job is for four months while Clara is on maternity leave," says Ms. Hopkins when she interviews me and decides to offer me the job. "We are about to leave on a tour of the south as soon a we can, so I'll need an answer from you by tomorrow."

"I'll accept the job," I say impulsively, not wanting to let the opportunity pass.

"Excellent! Meet us at the local ice-rink at 5am for practise. We can set off after breakfast."

"What about my belongings?" I ask.

"Put them in storage. You only need to bring your toiletries and skates. Everything else will be provided. We are a small operation, so we don't have room for lots of unnecessary baggage."

I ask my flatmate Sue to attend to my belongings, and I give her permission to sub-let my room for the duration of my absence. It feels strange leaving on a long journey with so few possessions, but it only adds to a sense of adventure.

I arrive at the rink a few minutes before 5am. Ms. Hopkins and her other five skaters are already there. We have the place to ourselves. I'm introduced to Faye, Bronwyn, Charlie, Meredith and Vicky. They seem friendly enough. They are all about my age and are dressed in identical skating outfits.

"Put this on," says Ms. Hopkins, handing me an outfit like the ones the other girls are wearing.

I turn towards the changing rooms but a hand on my shoulder stops me.