Sarah's Journey into Submissionbysarah37©
I was 18 when I had my first real taste of what it was like to be a submissive. Before then, I had experimented, mostly on my own, trying out little things here and there and experimenting some when I masturbated. I'd get my boyfriend to tie my wrists to the bedpost and spank me, but I could tell his heart was never really into it and I wanted more.
After returning home one day after I had finished a heavy session of aerobics, I collapsed in a pile of sweat and exhaustion on my bed. Too tired to sleep and too exhausted to do anything else, I did what came naturally, and started rubbing myself between my legs with my fingers.
"God I'm horny!" I said rolling onto my side and rubbing a little harder. I then sat up with a gleam in my eye and made my way toward my dresser and pulled out several special handcuffs I had recently bought, a cloth gag, a large, black vibrator, and several other items before settling down back on the bed.
"God, what at a bod" I hissed, slapping my ass and talking as though I were someone else, someone who was in control, someone who was crude, primal and dangerous. "You need a good FUCK!" I continued groping my breasts.
Jumping up on my knees, I cuffed my feet, then inserted the large plaything, which took a few erotically, agonizing minutes. I pulled a G- String up and into place, covering the toy and preventing it from escaping. I then then picked up a leather belt with several rings orbiting the outside and affixed it around my waist. Picking up the gag, I placed it over my mouth and tightened it around my head with more straps. The gag was a specialty item that was made from a soft cloth pad attached to a firm, leather backing and held in place by straps. The pad snugly covered my mouth and muffled even the loudest screams. I preferred this kind of gagging over a ball gag, which made me drool and made my jaw tired.
After gagging myself, I cuffed my hands behind my back and to the ring on the back of the belt. I was now completely restrained and felt absolutely wonderful. With a dexterous click, I pressed the play button and lay back as the low hum of the vibrator began to build.
My naked, bound body surged and rolled about slowly as my mind raced with fantasies, sending waves of erotic stimulation through me as the vibrator added to the tension, slowly building its vibrations like it was designed to. Each thing I thought of was more shocking and exhilarating than the next, dreams of being placed into helpless submission. I rolled about moaning and surging as my climax grew closer and closer...
"MMMMMMmmmm!" I moaned under my gag and twisted around on the bed, still close but not quite ready yet to step over the edge to embrace the orgasm that was waiting. Reaching between my legs as best I could, I groped at the cord for the vibrator and fished the remote into my cuffed hands.
"Maybe a little higher..." I moaned, then winced as the low vibrations made my sweat with building sensation.
Suddenly, a never-before-felt-sensation of intense vibration shot through my pelvis, sending me bucking about in panic. Looking around so I could see the dial, I had accidently pegged it past the 10 mark. I normally enjoyed a heavy workout of 4. Bucking about on the bed and groaning from the now intense vibrations coming from between my legs, I went hog wild for an instant and the remote flew from my grasp to crash to the floor. It was now on its full 120 volt setting.
My hips rolled slowly and erotically as the toy drove me closer toward a now unwanted and uncontrollable climax. "Got to gett... itttt.... ouutttt," I thought trying to hold back the flood. Soon I was frantically twisting about, struggling as the sensation from the vibrator began to overwhelm me and an instant later, I screamed uncontrollably as my climax nearly tore me apart.
My hips shot upward, pushing the mattress and box spring nearly off their frame and me to the floor. I rolled about on the heavy, double bed until it was a mess of blankets, pillows and stuffed toys. Being multi-orgasmic, I continued to violently pound my hips about as wave after wave forced me down again and again and panic filled my desperate mind as I knew too many climaxes like this would certainly dominate her.
It was some time later before I was able to roll off the bed to the floor, and another little while after that until I could find the keys to the cuffs and get out of my self-imposed bondage.
Dazed, I staggered rom my bedroom some time later, clutching my pelvis just below my stomach and holding my head. It had been nearly two agonizing hours since I first knelt down on the bed and then spent the rest of the time almost helpless as the vibrator continued its relentless work. My only saving grace was the fact the toy was not designed to run at such a voltage and its poor internal workings had finally seized.
No worse for wear though, I was a little "damaged" by the experience. At some point during the ordeal, the toy and the bondage had been too much and I had succumbed to its effects. The constant climaxes had pushed me over the edge, beyond my ability to cope or resist, and I was dominated for a time. I staggered about afterwards, my mouth hanging open and my eyes glazed over with a veil of haziness as I sauntered slowly into the living room. I dropped to my knees, unable to comprehend or care about anything. At that point I would have obeyed anyone without question, performed any act, allowed anything to happen to me. I collapsed utterly defeated.
An hour later, the oppressive sensation had lifted and I returned to the bedroom. "Can't ever let that happen again," I mumbled as I clutched my head. "I can't believe I lost to a vibrator," I winced as I picked up the now broken plastic toy, throwing it in the bin.
I was 19 when it all began, and it started with an ad in the newspaper, which read: "Obedient live-in maid wanted to service the needs of upper class lady". It was a time in life when I was still experimenting with things sexually, and I could read between the lines and understood what the subtext of the ad was really looking for. It other words, it was another way of saying "Mistress searching for a slave" but without really coming out to say it. Besides whatever else the actual job would entail, I had just started university so I could have used the money, and I was pretty open sexually so as nervous as I was dialling the number, I was also kind of excited too.
"Hello," a lady answered. "Yes, my name is Sarah and I'm calling in reference to your job opening for a maid... Is it still available?" I asked nervously. "Yes, it is. Do you understand the key to this job is obedience?" the lady asked. "Yes ma'am, I understand. I have always been a very obedient worker and would love to work as your maid."
It was a brief conversation, but we both knew what the other was talking about, again without having to say it, and we were on the same page as it were.
"Briefly describe yourself to me," the lady asked.
"You mean my employment history?" I questioned.
"No my dear, what do you look like."
"Oh, well, honestly, I'm only 19, but I really need this job and I'll work real hard and do exactly as you say..." I rambled nervously, fearing my age would bring an end to the interview.
"Calm down my dear, 19 is nice. Yes, actually, 19 is very nice. Go on my dear, tell me more."
"Well, I have long brown hair, I'm 5 foot 9 inches tall, and I weigh about 130 pounds. All my friends say I'm very pretty and..."
"O.K. my dear," the lady cut in. "I think I'd like to see you in person. When are you available?"
"Right now!" I said eagerly.
"Very well, be here within the hour," the lady instructed, giving me the directions to her home. I hung-up the phone and let out a hushed yelp of excitement.
I soon arrived at the ladies' luxurious apartment in the heart of downtown and rang the doorbell. After a brief time, the door opened. There in the doorway stood a tall, sexy, raven-haired lady in her mid to upper thirties wearing a short black silk robe. Her hair was cut in a short high fashion style that really accentuated her pretty face. She was a slender long-legged woman with a sleek hourglass figure. Her sheer robe draped gently from her large firm breast to the belt tied around her thin waist, then down over her round shapely buttocks.
"Come in my dear," the woman said smiling with approval. Stunned by the woman's beauty, I nervously stepped into the room. As I stood in the middle of the entry, the woman slowly walked around me visually inspecting every inch of my body. Although still relatively young, I was pretty well-developed by that point, and was met with re-assuring approval.
"Yes, you are a pretty girl... and only 19... Yes, I think you'll work out just fine.
"I won't fail you," I said earnestly.
"So easy to promise," she said. "You don't know what a bitch I can be."
"Maybe I won't mind finding out." I said, not believe the words that had come out of my own mouth. What perverse impulse had inspired this impudent remark?
Her answer was a laugh, full throated and deep. My pussy throbbed with yearning as she walked around me, taking in all of my curves. "If my instincts are correct, you are most definitely the right girl for the position."
The woman walked back in front of me. Placing her finger under my chin, lifting my head slightly, she stared deep into my eyes. "Are you willing to obey my every command – no matter how unusual it may be?"
I looked up into her beautiful dark and hungry eyes and found myself very aroused by the woman's gaze and her ultimate request. I paused briefly and wondered to myself what could this woman possibly request. What would a 'yes' answer really mean for her.
"Yes ma'am, I will obey your wishes and I will do anything you request of me," I responded in a very subservient voice.
"Very, very good, my dear. I think you will work out quite well."
The "interview" went on for quite some time after that, as we proceeded into the dining room and she asked me "the other kind of questions".
"So – how long have you been a sexual submissive?"
There it was – so bluntly stated, the plain fact that she had been so quick to recognize. This was no time to deny anything. An honest question must be honestly answered. I grinned shyly.
"All my life, I think."
She laughed at that. "Well, I was born to be a bitch, so I guess that we are a matched pair."
It was an oddly intimate moment, an exchange of confidences between two women.
"Have you submitted to others?"
I shrugged. "My boyfriend in high school spanked me a couple of times, but his heart was never really in it."
"You're not a virgin then."
"Have you sucked cock?"
It was the second phased of the job interview, I realized. She was asking me to list my qualifications, and the thought of refusing to answer never entered my mind.
"Did you just nibble on the tip, or take him to the hilt?"
"All of it," I tossed my hair saucily. She wasn't going to rattle me. "I enjoyed swallowing every inch."
"Did you swallow his cum as well?" She was smiling like a kitten full of milk.
"Yes," I replied, and by that time the juice running out of my puss was starting to tickle. "I swallowed every drop."
This caught me off-guard, but only for a moment as I realized what more she wanted. "I sucked every last drop of his cum and smiled while I did it, and asked him for more afterward." She wanted me to play the harlot for her, and I would do my best.
"Have you ever been fucked up the ass?"
A sudden chill passed over me. Part of it was the fact that anal intercourse was the one subject I had not been prepared to discuss. Some secret pleasures are too vile to admit. The other part of it was a sudden suspicion that this was not a casual question, mean to season the stew of confession. She really wanted to know.
I could feel my sphincter instinctively contract.
"No. Well – not with a – you know, a real..."
And there it was, the topic I had be so dreading but at the same time the most excited about, and she drilled me for the next several minutes, finding out exactly what I had done up to that point, with regards to my bum.
"Did you like having those fingers wriggling around inside you?" Having found a subject that made me uneasy, and wet between the legs at the same time, she was determined to explore it.
I took a deep breath. I sensed that this interview could represent a turning point in my life. I didn't want to blow it by refusing to be candid, and so I was. She nodded her approval at my answers, and pondered the information while she broke a piece of muffin off and held it out to me. I needed no command, and knew instinctively that it would be improper for me to simply reach out and take it in my hand. I dropped to all fours instead, and crawled to her. I knelt between her legs and opened my mouth.
"An anal virgin then," she mused. "Interesting. Now I want you to listen. I knew who you were the first time I heard your voice, and you confirmed it when you arrived at my door. You've got this sweet and sour quality about you that is positively delicious. You're a demure little slut, excellent raw material. You were drawn to me like a moth to a flame, but let's cut the bullshit shall we? I want to be clear," she continued. "I am an experience player and you are not. The game I propose is no game for sissies. It's serious, like professional sports of high stakes poker. There are rituals to be observed, tests to be passed, and levels of play. As your skill increases, the game becomes more difficult. There are risks, but all worthwhile activities carry risk. I will take every precaution to protect your physical health, but there are dangers to your psyche. You could become too involved and lose your identity, growing dependent, unable to function anymore in the real world. You might become reckless and ignore warning signs of trauma."
"I'm not afraid," I said.
"Not now," she agreed. "but later on you may battle panic. You will have one choice available to you – stay or go. You are free to leave anytime, but if you stay, you follow my rules."
"I understand, Mrs. Lucy." I wanted to ask what the rules were, but I knew that she would tell me when the time was right. Right now, I wanted her to know that I was willing to bear whatever burdens she requires, if only I could be near her.
"What I propose," she said, sipping her tea and breaking off another piece of muffin for me. 'is a program of systematic humiliation and corporal punishment. The severity of your trials will increase, and when you think that your powers of endurance have reached their limits, I will be there to coax you a little farther. At time you will be struck with a sense of the absurd, sometimes you will wallow in self-pity. You must banish these feeling and trust me to know what is best for you. I will be strict, the rules will be arbitrary, and the penalties for breaking them will be severe. You will surrender all right and privileges, you will be a toy that I play with, and I like to play rough."
And so it continued for the next little while, her explaining to me in broad strokes what would be involved, what would be entailed and what things would be like, and I swear I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices by the time she stood up.
"I will take a shower now," she said. "use this time to consider your choices carefully. If I find you here when I return, it will be because you want to and I will assume that you have accepted my propositions and treat you accordingly. Have another cup of tea and think it over. To help you with your decision, I will remind you that I haven't forgotten your impudence earlier, and I don't intend to forgive it."
She disappeared into the bathroom, and I poured myself another cup of tea with a shaking hand. This scene had, quite honestly, filled my dreams for years, but now that it was upon me, I didn't know if I had the courage to seize the moment. Her promise that I could leave at any time heartened me. Had I been fooling myself for all these years with empty fantasies? Would I fail her in the end? I knew that I would never be free of my desires unless I played out this hand.
When she returned some time later, my empty cup was back on the table and I was there
kneeling on the floor, my hands behind my head, knees wide, breasts sticking out, ass high, letting my body language announce my decision.
"Horny little slut, aren't you?" she commented. I could sense her standing over me. I didn't dare look up.
"Yes, Ms. Lucy," I whispered, unable to trust my voice. Truth was, I felt a little cheated by the whole thing. I had wanted her to make stay and do it, not offer me a way out or give me a choice.
"Call me 'Mistress', or 'Ma'am, unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" the woman questioned.
"Yes Mistress, I do," I replied. How natural the title sounded. It came easily, a reverent susurrus, a mantra.
"Good," she commented as she took a seat. "Now strip for me. I want to see you."
Okay – I wasn't too surprised. I knew that Mrs. Lucy would get around to it sooner or later, but I thought maybe she would choose a more private time and place, maybe work a little moonlight and roses seduction number. I didn't expect her to have me peel down in the kitchen while she stood watching.
There wasn't much to take off and I was bare in a minute. Mrs. Lucy was a Braille reader I guess. She felt me all over, I mean everywhere; twisting my nipples and stroking a finger into my slit. (Yes, I was damp, if you must know,)
"Turn around and spread your legs please."
I know. It was my time to say "Fuck you very much!" and gran my clothes that I had just folded nearly on the kitchen table, and get the hell out of there. I was curious though, swept along in a current, to abuse a cliché, and her finer had just plucked my clit like a guitar string. It was still thrumming.
I turned around and spread my legs.
"From now on, you must never cum without permission. You will obey all command without question, and accept all punishment without complaint." Still behind me, I felt her bare toes tickling up and down between my legs, feeling the moisture pooling there. "You will strive to be accessible to me in all ways."
Her big toe moved up and poked at my anus.
"Ah! That made you clench, didn't it?"
I didn't say anything in reply. The question was rhetorical. She had divined the one thing I had found both frightening and fascinating. The one thing I had little to no experience with so far but yet but wanted to delve into, and I felt certain that she would exploit that discovery.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw her take a tube of lubricant out of the pocket of her robe and knew what was coming. I thought about that tube, how she planned ahead for me, pocketing it before she sat down and waited for her little victim to fly into her web. I felt as though I were in some X rated movie, and no one had given me a script.
I did, grabbing my ankles with both hands. She smeared my asshole with grease. I felt a finger spearing into me, clear to the knuckle. She wiggled it, finding nerves in there I never knew I had. She added another finger, stretching me and making it hurt. I tightened up.
"Please!" I whined.
Mrs. Lucy shushed my softly. There was something very intimate about having her reach into me like that, and I relaxed again, aware that her fingers were scissoring apart, opening me. I was squeaky clean inside, at least. I had seen to that a long time.