Submission: An Erotic Journey...

"Wonderful."

The time passed slowly as Alan sipped his wine and Kat nursed her drink. The waiter came back and asked, "Are you ready to order?"

"Sure. My sister and I will have the grilled chicken."

"Did you want a salad?"

"Yes, I want bleu cheese dressing and my sister will have lo-cal on the side. What kind of potatoes do you have?"

"Baked, fried, french fries . . . what would you like?"

"I will have the baked with butter, sour cream, and chives. My sister will have the baked -- plain."

"Very good."

Alan was trying to relax but everytime someone looked at him with a lecherous expression he felt nauseous. When they had first arrived at the bar he had kept his eyes down, preferring to stare at the table. But after being here for a while he began studying people through a big mirror on the back wall. A middle aged man caught his eye through the mirror and waved.

"Kat, someone just waved at me."

"That's because you are so attractive."

"Stop it. What do I do?"

"Nothing."

John bent and lovingly removed the harness. He kissed Beth's tortured flesh tenderly in everywhere he thought it might hurt. Beth was beyond caring. The pain had forced into that strange place where only the most adventurous erotic explorers dare to venture. The body's natural defenses against pain had taken over and her body was racked with both the endorphins and adrenalin surging through her blood stream. She continued to moan softly.

The world had turned shades of black and dark red and she cried softly into her husband's arms. The tears were not tears of pain. They were instead, tears of emotion torn from her by the ordeal she had experienced. Though his kisses were of the most tender and intimate variety, she hardly noticed.

When John asked her a question she mumbled something in reply. To her, any contact that drew her from that special place was unwelcome. John knew this and tried his best to not express any thoughts beyond the obvious.

Standing above her with the remaining bonds in hand he watched her chest rise and fall and the sweat glistening on her beautiful body in the pale light. It was strange that when she looked at him, it was like he wasn't there. For a few brief moments she had managed to transcend the vale of tears and had found her way to a higher place. A place where nothing but her own sexuality was important.

Though John enjoyed their little games, he was jealous of her ability to climb to this area he had never known. Holding her gently he led her to the bed and helped her to lie down. Covering her tenderly with the blanket he went upstairs to shower.

In just a matter of moments the waiter returned to their table with two drinks on his tray. With great show he placed them in front of Alan and Kat. "These are from the two gentlemen at the bar."

Kat looked toward the bar and saw the men wave. "We don't want them, but tell the men thanks anyway."

The waiter looked at Kat curiously and asked, "Are you sure? They have already been paid for and I will just have to throw them away."

"Yes, we are sure. That is not what we came here for."

Alan was surprised at the attempt to buy drinks. She caught the question in his eye and said, "It is not that unusual. If we had taken the drinks the men would have an excuse to come and sit. I don't want that, do you?"

Alan sighed.

The waiter delivered their dinners and both of them busied themselves with eating. They were so engrossed in the food that they didn't notice the paunchy man standing by their table. He was weaving uncontrollably and it was obvious he was drunk.

"What's a matter, you don't want our drinks?"

"No, but we do appreciate your offering. Thank you very much." Kat smiled.

"I wasn't talking to you, sister. I was talking to the other one -- the big one."

"My sister has laryngitis. If you have a problem, I suggest you take it somewhere else. We just came for dinner."

"I don't get it. You come in here all dolled up, hell, you are even wearing evening gloves, and then you don't want to drink my liquor."

"Please sir, it is time for you to go back to the bar."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then I am afraid I will have to call the management."

"That's all right. I own the place. Call away."

Alan looked into his wife's eyes and could see the beginning of fear. This was quite a step from her normal life and he smiled as she argued with the man.

Finally in a move of desperation she said, "Then I am afraid we will have to leave."

Alan followed her as she stood up from the booth. The man was three inches shorter than Kat and nearly five inches shorter than Alan. The drunk placed himself in front of Alan and said, "Okay, we'll leave you alone for a kiss."

Alan looked at him. Then he looked at Kat. In spite of the fear, she was giggling uncontrollably. The drunk man moved closer and in a move totally unexpected by Alan, reached out his hand and touched his fake breast. Alan, who was tired of the scene anyway pushed him back with a little more vigor than he intended and the man first ran into a table and then fell to the floor. His friend, the shy one who had stayed at the bar, came to help him up.

Kat paid their bill and they left. The wait staff was quickly and efficiently cleaning up the mess. When they walked into the warm early June night, Kat began laughing uncontrollably. "You should have seen yourself. It was worth a million dollars."

Alan said nothing but walked ahead of Kat to the car. When he got there he waited for her to catch up with the keys. Feeling a hand on his shoulder Alan turned around quickly. It was the man from the bar. The two men must have left by the back door and the paunchy one stood directly in front of him. His friend was standing behind him. Seeing Alan look at him, he smiled lasciviously. Kat took her keys and opened the door for Alan.

He tried to enter the car but the drunk man put his leg across the entrance. "I am still waiting for my kiss."

It had been many years since Alan had actually been forced to defend himself, but some lessons are never unlearned. Taking his fist back he drove it into the man's gut. A giant expelling of air followed the punch and the man fell to his knees. The man's friend took his fist back and was prepared to strike Alan from behind when Kat kicked him in the groin. He too doubled over in pain. Alan pushed him down with his friend and they both entered the car and left.

Finishing up his shower, John dressed in fresh clothes and returned to the basement. While he was combing his hair he noticed her hair brush on the edge of the sink. When he was walking out of the door he picked it up and stuck it in his back pocket. Carrying his wife's nightgown over his arm and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in his hand he arrived by her bedside. He reached and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. A touch so gentle he had to repeat it three times before she stirred. Finally she opened her eyes and smiled. She took the offered orange juice and drank it greedily. She finished the large glass without setting it down.

"Thank you, honey, I was thirsty."

"That's all right. Did you want to slip your nightgown on?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Beth stood up uneasily and John lifted it over her shoulders. Taking the soft gown she pulled it over her body. Each touch, no matter how tender, sent another jolt of pain into her being. Leading her gently by the hand John walked her to a chair. Tenderly he undid the rubber bands holding her braided hair and removed the braids. When he was done he took her brush from his back pocket and began to gently brush her hair. When he encountered a tangle he held the hair near the roots with his other hand to keep from pulling on it and causing her discomfort. In a few minutes he was moving the brush through her hair easily and when he finished he asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Twenty

The ride was going smoothly and Kat was anticipating the remaining action when they arrived home. She was content and replaying the last scene in her mind was amusing. Her thoughts were cut short when Alan gently squeezed her leg. Reaching down she removed it. He returned his hand and squeezed again. Kat looked at him, "What do you want, Sub?"

"I have to use the rest room."

"Really. Well, I guess I could stop at the rest area ahead."

"That would be great," Alan said. The words were hardly out of his mouth before he realized what a quandary he was in. If he went in the men's room, he was a woman. If he went in the women's room -- he was a man. After a few minutes he said, "Which one do you think I should use?"

Kat burst out laughing. "Sorry about that, but the only one that's going to work is women's room. Well, at least it will be a new experience for you." Alan sighed.

The sign for the rest area loomed ahead and Alan felt his erection returning. Kat parked the car under a large light near the walkway and accompanied him as he walked painfully toward the rest room. As he entered he was glad the room appeared empty. Moving quickly to the stall he lifted the dress and tucked it under his chin. He pulled down the panty hose, then the girdle, and finally the frilly panties his wife had purchased. With the restriction on his penis removed it stuck out obscenely. Though he hadn't seen anyone in the rest room, he didn't want to take a chance on urinating from a standing position so he sat. When he left the stall he saw Kat talking with two other women at the sink. Glancing furtively at them, he moved to the sink.

Rinsing his hands quickly, he left the room and hurried to the car. His main thought was to get back in the vehicle as quickly as he possibly could. When he tried the door he found it locked. Standing beside the car door he stared at the rest area building for Kat's appearance. Finally she left the building and walked toward him slowly.

When she didn't go to driver's side, he wondered what was going on. She walked toward him fumbling in her purse. Alan assumed it was for her keys -- he was wrong.

"Hands behind your back, Sub."

Alan complied and felt the cold steel of the handcuffs once more. Kat unlocked the door and after helping him in, buckled the seat belt tightly grunting with the effort.

In the back of his mind Alan was both dreading the end of the night and anticipating what was to come. The ambivalence he felt was remarkable. If the night had ended with him showering and going to bed -- it would have been sufficient. But, part of him wanted the submission to be extended. When he knew it was going to be, he sighed again.

The rest of the drive home passed in silence. Alan tried to get comfortable in the car. There were several factors that made this difficult. The first was the bite of the handcuffs into his wrists. No matter how he tried to turn them, the pressure continued. The second was his body's forced immobility brought on by the tightened seat belt. This prevented him from moving very much and only increased the pressure on his wrists increasing his discomfort. As he wiggled the thought that at least he didn't still have to go to the bathroom entered his mind.

As Kat drove down the subdivision's street Alan noticed that all of the lights were out in the houses. People had gone to bed for the night. It was mercifully dark when Kat pulled the car into the garage. She exited the car and entered the house. Alan remained secure in his bondage and was wondering what was going to happen next.

When Kat returned, she held the leash and collar in her hand. Leaning inside of the car, she attached the collar and locked it into place with a small padlock. Leaning across his body, she released the seat belt. Feeling her that close caused his erection to return. The tightness of the girdle reminded him of his submission. Pulling sharply on the leash she led him back into the basement. Alan had expected he would be permitted to remove his outfit -- he was wrong.

Directing him to stand where he had stood before, Kat retrieved and attached ankle cuffs first. Then taking a short length of chain she locked the cuffs on with small padlocks. Alan tried to move his legs. He could move them -- but not very far.

The leather cuffs felt odd on his panty hose covered legs. It was like they were on tightly, but still did not touch his skin. As she attached the wrist cuffs he moved his legs up and down and felt the cuffs sliding over the smooth material.

She stretched first one and then other arm toward the hooks in the ceiling and retrieving two more locks -- locked them into place. Still wearing the dress he felt odd -- but definitely aroused. Kat moved close to him and kissed him full on the lips. It was the first time she had tasted lipstick and while it was not pleasant -- neither was it unpleasant. Holding the kiss for long seconds, she moved away and went upstairs.

On her way out of the basement she turned out the lights. Alan stood alone in the darkened basement dressed as a woman, his wrists bound securely to the ceiling and his legs securely shackled. His arousal continued and the more excited he became, the more painful his erection was proving to be. Time passed slowly. Soon fifteen minutes were gone and still Alan was still alone in the darkness. He tried to release himself but was unable. The time stretched on to more than half an hour and still he was alone.

Hearing her moving upstairs he shouted, "Catherine, Catherine, this is not funny."

Still she did not appear. After being erect for such a long time, even his erection disappeared. Still, he remained her captive. Beginning to worry he felt himself becoming more and more agitated. Still she did not appear.

Kat watched the time carefully. The form had indicated that he wanted to be left alone in bondage and she was going to do her part.

To pass the time she watched the television in the bedroom and read through her notebook of activities. She wrote a couple of lines on a note pad and retrieved the necessary items for their completion and placed them in a bag. When exactly an hour had passed she donned her leather, grabbed the bag she had prepared, and headed downstairs.

Walking quickly behind him, she grabbed the flogger and struck him as hard as she could across the buttocks. He screamed.

Feeling that his noise might somehow transcend the walls of the house she reached into the bag and retrieved the ball gag. It has been fairly easy to construct out of a rubber ball and one of the leather straps Carl Whitney had placed in the box --it was one of the extras he had spoken about. She took the gag and placed it on his lips. "Sub, you are making too much noise. It is time to stop. Open up."

He refused. She spoke more sharply this time, "Open your mouth, Sub. According to a signed document I have in my possession you are to do what you are told or I will have to punish you. You have already earned extra lashes, if you continue to refuse I will add five for every second I have to wait. I am making myself clear, aren't I?"

She took the gag and put it up to his mouth. His lips remained closed. She started counting with 3. 3 - 4 - 5, he opened his mouth and she inserted the gag. "Wider, it has to go behind your teeth."

He refused and she continued counting, 6 - 7 - 8. When she reached the number 9 his mouth opened wider and she moved it into position. Pulling sharply on the leather straps, she buckled it into place. Because he had refused her command she took the flogger and whipped him ten times -- hard. When she was finished his face was bathed in sweat and the makeup and mascara were running.

Taking a pair of scissors she cut up the back of the dress until it hung in two pieces. Continuing to cut slowly she moved the scissors through the material until she was cutting up the arms. She had to stand on her tip toes to reach the wrist band of the dress -- but she removed that as well.

Moving a stand-up mirror in front of him, she positioned it so he could see himself clearly. She left for a moment but soon returned with a video camera on a tripod. Moving in front again, she turned on the bright light and after carefully aiming the camera -- turned it on. "Smile for the camera, Sub."

Leaving the scissors where she could get at them easily she moved in close and began to kiss him. Since his lips were locked around the ball gag, she nuzzled him along the neck and up his cheek. She could taste the makeup as her lips darted along his sweating skin.

Reaching into the girdle was difficult, but she managed. When her hand came in contact with his penis she began massaging. She continued to increase both the strength and frequency of her massage until his breath was coming in tiny pants. Releasing his penis she picked up the whip and after making sure his eyes were focused on her through the mirror, began to strike him.

The first blows were soft -- almost caresses. As his skin warmed, she began to strike him in earnest. She could see his body tense for the contact as she took the flogger back. When she struck him, he moaned loudly through the gag.

Finished for the moment she lifted the slip up over his buttocks and tucked it into his bra. Retrieving her scissors she cut deftly through the leg of the panty hose, girdle, and panties on the right side. She repeated this action on the left and removed the final encumbrances to her whip.

Taking care to move the shimmering slip down over his buttocks she stepped back to admire her handiwork. His buttocks trembled in the shiny material causing ripples to move up toward his back. With the last protection gone, she took the flogger back and began once more. She struck him repeatedly. His body shuddered with each blow and he moaned loudly through the gag.

If she looked over his shoulder she could see his penis jutting out from his body. In her passion she tried to see what its reaction would be when the whip came down. It remained rock hard and ready -- although it did bounce when his body bucked under her whip.

Moving to his front she lifted the slip, bent, and took him into her mouth. He tried to press forward to insert more of his member into her mouth. She stood and taking the flogger, struck him hard across the thighs and penis. She did not use her full force, but it obviously was enough as he screamed through the gag, "Okay Okay!" Though the sound was muffled and unclear -- the meaning was not.

She bent down and took him into her mouth once more -- he remained still. Taking her tongue she teased him by swirling it around his penis. Using her teeth she nibbled gently around the glans until he groaned in pleasure. Her hands felt the tenseness in his muscles and she increased her actions.

Just before he ejaculated she stopped. Taking the scissors in hand she cut through the slip and bra and threw the remnants on the floor. Now he was truly naked, except for the wig. This she removed and Alan looked at himself in the mirror. The panty hose was hanging around his knees and his face was still made up -- but at least he looked like a man, albeit a submissive man, but still a man.

Retrieving a towel from the dirty clothes she ran the hot water in the laundry tub and taking a little soap, washed the makeup from his face. It was difficult to get the lipstick off correctly because of the ball gag -- but she managed.

Retrieving the punishment hood she placed it over his head and tightened the laces. Switching off the camera she brought the tall bar stool from the family room and placed it in front of him. She climbed on the bar stool and seeing that she was still too far away, climbed off again.

She repositioned the stool and using her left hand she guided his penis into her vagina. The flogger in her right hand slapped him across the buttocks and thighs and he began moving. Faster and faster he moved but no matter how quickly he tried to move, the whip told him to move more quickly.