Pathways to Submission: Sally Pt. 02

Continued from Pathways to Submission: Sally, Part 1

Chapter 6

My final week working at Trammers played havoc with my emotions. Dealing with all the additional customers taking advantage of Trammer's closing-down sale was exhausting. Then saying farewell to my friends and acquaintances at work was a sad affair. Some of us went out on Friday evening for a drink at a local bar. I couldn't raise any enthusiasm for the proposed nightclubbing afterwards, so I went back to my flat.

I'm lucky that I've got a new job. Most of Trammer's former employees are still searching for work. Mistress Penelope had confirmed her offer for me to be her assistant, and I'm due to meet her at 2pm on Sunday. Although she hasn't said so, I presume it will be for a session with the same client as last Sunday. In addition to a ten percent share of the fee for each session I attend, I'll start receiving a weekly retainer from this week. The retainer will at least cover my rent, power and food bills. With a share of the session fees as well, I could soon be earning a lot more than I did at Trammers. In exchange for the retainer, I'm expected to clean Mistress's workshop (aka dungeon) four times a week and do some routine errands and chores.

Last Sunday is still etched in my mind. The afternoon session with the client wasn't very exciting, but afterwards Mistress and I explored our budding relationship in a very intimate way. Our passionate interlude confirmed that Mistress is not simply playing at being a dominatrix. I found myself submitting to her control without any conscious effort on either her or my part. While I can't claim to have had a lot of relationships in the past that had a sexual component, this is the first time my yearning for my partner to take absolute control of me has been fulfilled.

If you aren't naturally submissive, it may be hard for you to understand my craving. To my mind I need someone to control my slutty urges. I spend far too much time with my hand between my legs frigging myself. I can't help it. When I'm alone, my wild imagination simply triggers my sexual desires. I've insufficient willpower to deny myself fulfilment of my urges. Last Sunday, Mistress only allowed me to reach a climax a few times. Several times I was forced to quell my arousal or be punished for disobeying her orders. The wicked sensation of being denied fulfilment was almost as enjoyable as being allowed to come.

I've a long way to go before I can deny myself an orgasm when Mistress isn't with me. But Mistress has implied that if our personal relationship is to continue, then she fully intends to train me in that respect. Punishments for repeated failures haven't been discussed, but so far I'm willing to continue to explore the deep dark depths of total submission.

"Our client will be here at three o'clock," says Mistress when we meet on Sunday. "We have time to discuss your ongoing duties and decide which client sessions you should attend in the coming week."

We take a tour around the dungeon and side rooms. Mistress explains what needs cleaning and how often. She also explains how some of the more complex equipment needs to be handled. Even my wild imagination can't fathom how one piece of equipment should be used.

"It's a bondage suspension swing," says Mistress when she sees me puzzling over the various bits and pieces. "I'll demonstrate how it's used since you may be called on to fasten a client into it. Sit on this piece here."

I do as I'm bid. Within a few minutes my wrists, ankles and waist are firmly fastened to the harness. Mistress then turns a wheel and I'm lifted a metre or so into the air. Mistress demonstrates how the victim's position can be adjusted to suit whatever game is being played. I've never tried anything like this before, and I can't help myself from getting aroused. My flustered state must be obvious to Mistress since she teases my helpless body.

"You will need to learn to control your sexual urges when there's a client with us, Sally," says Mistress while she makes my mounting arousal even worse by pushing her hand into my panties.

"Sorry, Mistress," I sigh. "I'm new to all this, and I find it so erotic."

"I understand your dilemma. I expect you to find this erotic; that's the purpose of our sexy costumes and all this equipment. But I also expect you to control your body's reaction to it all; particularly when a client is with us. My clients understand that they can never have sex with me, no matter how much they want to fuck or bugger me. But you are bait that we will dangle before them. I will never expect you to have sex with any of my clients, but we can charge more for a session if the client believes there's a chance, no matter how remote, that he or she can fuck or bugger you."

"You want me to be a cock tease, Mistress?" I say, trying my best to quell my mounting urge to come.

"A crude term, but essentially correct," says Mistress. "Coquette is a better word. Can you manage that?"

"I've never done anything like that before, Mistress. I'll try my best."

"Good. It's in your best interest to succeed. If a client sees you have an orgasm in their presence, then you are handing control of the scenario to them. You are in a far more powerful position if the client is the one who is desperate to come."

"Yes, Mistress," I gasp as Mistress starts teasing my clit.

"Can you control your slutty urges, Sally? Let's see how long you can hold out."

The wonderful feeling rippling through my body as Mistress ruthlessly teases my clit is driving me wild. But I do my best to hold back my orgasm. I want to please Mistress and prove that I'm up to the task she has set me.

Chapter 7

"Hmm. Four minutes twenty-two seconds," says Mistress as she removes her sopping wet hand from my panties. "Not a bad effort, but you need to strive to hold back an orgasm for at least six minutes in that situation."

I did my best. Being bound tight in the bondage swing didn't help my control. But I suspect Mistress knew the effect the bondage was having on me before she even started teasing my clit.

"We had better get ready for our client," says Mistress, releasing me from my restraints. "Go put on the same outfit as last Sunday."

The session plays out almost exactly the same as last week. To my mind, the lack of variety only adds to the imperfect scenario. But it's what the client wants. Mistress warned me that some client sessions may be tedious and unexciting, although I must never show it.

After the client leaves us, we resume our tour of the dungeon equipment and the back rooms. Mistress runs through a list of my duties, which I jot down on a piece of paper. Our tour ends up in the back room where the rack of costumes is stored. Most will fit me since Mistress and I are the same height and build.

"Which outfit do you find the sexiest?" asks Mistress.

I could fudge the answer and say 'all of them'. Which is partially true, since I'd never be comfortable wearing any of them in public. But there is one that I noticed last week which I think is particularly sexy.

"This one, Mistress," I say, lifting a black vinyl minidress off the rack.

"And what about it makes you call it the sexiest?"

"The way it laces up at the front right down to below my belly button, Mistress."

"Hmm. So, you find flashing your cleavage and belly button sexy," observes Mistress. "And don't you dare blush at my remark. I need to understand your sexual preferences if we are to work well together. Put the dress on."

I'm surprised rather than embarrassed by Mistress's comment. She has quickly identified one of my perversions and it makes me more confident that she will really understand my needs. We aren't at the stage where I can openly talk about my sexual fantasies, but each time we meet, I think we are a step closer.

There's no changing room other than this room, and Mistress clearly has no intention of leaving me to change in private. After our passionate interlude last week, I've no inhibitions about stripping myself naked in her presence. Indeed, I secretly hope that she will resume where we left off last Sunday. Mistress admires my naked body but makes no move to touch me despite my deliberate delay in putting on the vinyl minidress. I tighten the laces to make the dress hug to my body. Even so, there's a noticeable gap exposing my cleavage right down to my belly button.

"Yes, that suits you nicely, Sally," says Mistress. "I can arrange for one to be made with the laces all the way down the front. How do you feel about wearing a dress like that?"

"Wouldn't it expose my bare cunt, Mistress?" I ask.

"Yes, it would. Although most women would wear matching panties with a dress like that. But if you prefer to show off your shaved puss, then I've no objection. You wouldn't be able to wear it like that in public, of course."

"Oh, I couldn't wear this dress in public either, Mistress," I reply.

"You certainly could. It's sexy but not indecent. It's a warm day and there will be women about wearing little more than what you have on. Come on, we'll go back to that cafe we tried last Sunday."

I'm spellbound by her suggestion. Part of me wants to say 'no' and preserve my dignity. But the wicked part of me finds the idea exciting. The submissive in me desires to comply with Mistress's instructions, and that's what decides the matter.

It's only a short walk to the cafe but my nipples are rock hard from my mounting arousal by the time we get there. I notice a couple of men staring at me and the minx in me turns to give them a better look. Mistress notices my behaviour and she gives my arse a light swat.

"Behave, Sally," she orders. "You'll have them thinking you are a whore."

At the moment that is exactly how I feel, but I accept Mistress's reprimand without complaint. The cafe is busy and there doesn't appear to be any free tables. Mistress takes us over to a table where a man in his mid-twenties is sat on his own. Without asking, Mistress sits next to him and indicates I should sit the other side of him. When I sit down the back of my dress rises up leaving the top of my legs uncovered. After wetting my panties earlier, I've no panties on. It means my bare arse is sat on the wooden seat of the chair. The sensation is deliciously wicked.

"This is Sally," says Mistress to the man. "She's my new assistant. You wanted to meet her."

"Yes. Thank you, Mistress," replies the man.

"Sally, this is one of my regular clients. He insisted on meeting with you in public before he agrees to you joining our Tuesday afternoon sessions."

"Hello... um... sir?" I reply, uncertain how I should address one of Mistress's clients in public.

"All of my clients have a letter assigned to them in order to keep their real name private. This is D. You should never refer to him as 'sir', or any other title."

"Hello, Sally," replies D, taking a good look at my tits.

My hard nipples are clearly visible straining against the vinyl. I feel like I'm an object being admired for its beauty. His ogling should make me feel awkward and ashamed, but it is having a completely different effect on me. If this lasts much longer I'm going to be leaking juices from my cunt and onto the chair.

Chapter 8

Mistress and I spend a pleasant half hour with D. I don't learn anything about his real identity, although he lets slip that he works at a large distribution centre across town. His well-spoken manner and obvious good education suggest that he's in management, but he doesn't add anything to the conversation to confirm my assessment. I am careful not to ask any leading questions and before long I only speak when I'm asked a direct question. Mistress steers the conversation onto a discussion about her need for an assistant and my suitability for the role. I presume this is part of her efforts to get D to approve my inclusion in next Tuesday's session. Eventually D agrees for me to be present at his next session. I'm not sure what decided the issue, but I'm sure he has his reasons for wanting to see me first. Inspection complete, D leaves us shortly afterwards.

Mistress and I return to her workshop as soon as we finish our drinks. Last week Mistress promptly kissed me when we arrived back at her workshop, and we began a very intimate interlude which I still remember fondly. It looks as though she has something else in mind this week.

"I've been thinking about what you should wear when we're in a session with a client," says Mistress. "A few sessions, like with H today, will require you to wear a costume, but most sessions don't require that. I think I've found something suitable, and I require your opinion."

We go through to the back room and Mistress instructs me to remove my vinyl dress and replace it on the rack. I stand facing her with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I'm not accustomed to standing naked in front of a fully clothed woman, and the humiliating situation is doing wicked things to my libido. Mistress leaves me for a few seconds while she fetches something from her office.

I stare in amazement at the outfit Mistress instructs me to put on. It's a bondage harness even my wildest fantasy couldn't have designed. I feel and smell the stiff leather before I position myself so that Mistress can help put the harness on me. It consists of a strong leather collar with a strap leading down between my tits, and which forms part of a wide waist belt. The waist belt is a single piece at the front which is adjusted and fastened by three wide straps at the back. The top of the waist belt is moulded to push my tits upwards. The lower part of the belt has a shaped piece which passes between my legs, firmly imprisoning my cunt. At the back of the moulded piece is a vertical strap with metal eyelets that push onto the cylindrical metal studs riveted to the rear waist straps, before fastening to the rear of the collar.

At first I don't understand how the harness stays fastened. That mystery is solved when Mistress produces four small padlocks and proceeds to lock them onto the studs on each of the three waist straps and the rear of the collar. I'm now completely enslaved by the harness. But worse is to come.

Mistress produces four leather cuffs which she proceeds to padlock onto my wrists and upper arms, just above my elbows. The cuffs are then clipped onto four metal rings fixed to the waist belt at the appropriate height. The linking chains are short but strong, and effectively deny me the use of my arms. Mistress doesn't bother locking the linking chains since I've no means of being able to reach the spring clips that would free me. Besides, if I'm wearing this harness when we are with clients, then I'm likely to need the use of my arms. This arrangement makes it easy for Mistress to free or restrain my arms as required. Needless to say, I'm very aroused by this stage. Mistress's playful tweak of my nipples nearly tips me over the edge into an orgasm. But I restrain my urge to come since Mistress hasn't given me permission.

"What do you think, Sally?" ask Mistress. "Are you going to be able to wear this during our client sessions without freaking out?"

"Oh yes, Mistress," I reply, completely overwhelmed by the eroticism of the harness.

"Good. I thought you might like it. Now you can show your appreciation."

Mistress removes her skirt to reveal her panties. She stands facing me with her legs slightly apart. She points to her cunt, and I interpret it as an instruction to bring her to an orgasm. I'm willing enough, but in my bound state, achieving my goal is going to be tricky. I manage to lower her panties with my bound hands and a lot of acrobatics. I clumsily kneel down, nearly falling into her in the process. Fortunately, I steady myself in time. My hands will be useless for teasing her clit, so I promptly push my tongue into her cunt and work towards her clit. I'm momentarily surprised to find that she has four metal rings pierced into her labia and a fifth ring attached to her clit. I've no idea what effect the rings will have on her ability to have an orgasm, but I guess I'm about to find out.

At first, I try to avoid moving her clit ring, but that soon proves impossible. Nevertheless, I focus my attentions on the nub of her clit. The moisture filling Mistress's cunt and her soft moans of pleasure indicate that I'm doing something right. Suddenly she grabs the back of my head and starts frantically humping my face. Moments later I feel the effects of her orgasm. As soon as it is over, Mistress pushes me away and pulls up her panties.

"That was a good effort considering your restraints," says Mistress. "Now we shall test your endurance at holding back your own orgasm."

"Yes, Mistress," I reply. "I will do my best to please you."

Chapter 9

Mistress wants me to practise restraining my orgasms so that I only come when she grants me permission. But I don't know how I can do that while I've no means of reaching between my legs and playing with my nether regions. The leather harness Mistress locked onto me firmly imprisons my cunt, and my arms are made useless by my cuffs being fastened close to my waist belt.

"Do you know what one of these is?" asks Mistress, producing a weird shaped rubbery device.

"No, Mistress," I reply.

"It's a remote-controlled vibrator. We push this up your cunt and I control it from my phone."

I didn't know such things existed in real life, although my fantasies often include such items to torment me. Mistress briefly unlocks my harness so that I can push the vibrator into my cunt. As soon as we are satisfied that it is in the correct position, Mistress tests her control of the device from her phone. It works in the evillest way imaginable. I last all of five seconds before my hands are between my legs and I'm frigging myself in harmony with the device.

"You dirty little slut," says Mistress, switching off the vibrator. "Such wanton behaviour has earned you a punishment."

"Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress," I say without any thought about why I should be allowing her to punish me. I'm her assistant, not her slave. Although the prospect of being both hasn't escaped my wild fantasies.

Mistress promptly refastens my harness and restrains my arms once again. She turns on the vibrator and I practically collapse on the floor when the wonderful sensation rippling through my lower body takes complete control of me. She skilfully adjusts the speed of the vibrator to leave me in a state of near senselessness while not quite able to achieve an orgasm.

"Please let me come, Mistress," I whimper as I surrender myself to the hedonistic pleasure the vibrator is generating.

"All in good time, Sally. I said that you had earned a punishment. Your punishment is the denial of the orgasm you clearly crave until I decide that you have learned your lesson."

We play our erotic game for twenty minutes and I don't achieve a single orgasm, despite reaching the threshold at least eight times. I'm not sure if my achievement is because of Mistress's skilful use of the vibrator control, or the fact that I'm actually starting to accept and enjoy the repeated denial of being allowed to come. Finally, Mistress is satisfied my punishment is complete and she switches off the vibrator.

She walks over to me and wraps her arms around me. She pulls me close and gives me a deep kiss like she did last week. I want to respond with my arms, but they still firmly bound at my side. I can return her kiss, however, and I do so with a passion that only ends when Mistress pulls away. She unclips my cuffs from my belt but makes no effort to release me from the harness or my cuffs. She obviously has something more in mind.

"It's nearly five o'clock," says Mistress. "I've a client coming at six-thirty, and I'll need to prepare for her visit. Do you wish to stay and watch, or do you need to return home?"