Suburban Surrender

Cathy Dupree had been single for some time, and the sexual rush she got that day, was more than welcome. The night before, she'd lain atop her bed, facing the mirror and watched herself masturbate with the large vibrator which had so long been her best friend, her orgasm magnificent as her imagination took her through a fantasy which saw her with the upper hand over masculinity, leading to a willingly subservient male servicing her orally. Duly sated, then sleeping soundly, she awoke to find herself still intensely aroused, and strutted naked about the house while she decided on what to wear from the new outfits she'd bought recently.

Middle aged and alone, following two unsuccessful marriages, she'd spent several years in a state of withdrawal, believing she was condemned to a life as a forgotten spinster, despite having a desirably shapely body and an attractive face which drew the attention of many a male when out on her daily routines. She knew not why, but one of those daily routines had her make a spontaneous visit to a large and dusty bookshop off the main street that day, and on to a secluded corner where those few books of an adult nature were secreted. It was as though she'd been drawn there by some primeval instinct. She took an instant liking to him, a male she caught, feverishly replacing a lurid publication by a 50's artist she was well aware of, it's graphic cover revealing all she needed to know about his sexual preferences, having her like him all the more without they having spoken a word.

He picked something else out, something bland and of no interest to him, feigning a studied nonchalance and hoping she hadn't - and yet hoping she had - seen what he'd been viewing, and what had stirred his loins. What he saw of her through the corner of his eye, was very attractive to him indeed, mature, shapely, and something about her gave her an air of authority... not helping quell the arousal the previous book had awarded him. What happened next, had that arousal bulge his underwear. Cathy didn't know where she found the audacity within her, to take up the challenge of confronting a complete stranger, but that his interest in that book was too ripe an opportunity for her to pass over. She moved closer to him, and slipped out that very book with a smile, her scent subtle, yet somehow overpowering, a fragrance which would remain etched upon his memory.

Her smile broadened as her eyes took in the title and one of the women depicted on its cover, her buxom body shape so pleasingly similar to hers 'The Dominant Wives and Other Stories.' She turned her head and looked right at him, pleased to see that he hadn't just walked away, though in minor shock, she could feel he was as interested in her as she was in him, it was almost as though he wanted to be taken control of.

"Are you sure you don't want this one?... I find the artist most appealing." Clay Sheridan, long divorced from a wife who'd spurned him for another male, now found sexual pleasure through masturbation only, and had already found many desirable depictions within that book that he'd wantonly shoot his mess over. He'd pondered it nervously, looking for the courage to take it to the assistant and pay for it, but now he was faced with a situation far more worthy of his masturbation. It was obvious she knew he was submissive, and her gentle sneer as she teased him with book in hand, already had him lusting for her authority. He tried vainly, to mask his interest in the book, though he was already drawn to her, magnetically.

"Oh... I... I'm not sure." His denial only made her need more ardent, though she played along with it, slipping the book back and saving his blushes, but her smile having him know she'd enjoyed the tease... and might want more. Clays cock pulsed as she feigned no further interest in him, moving away to view other books, which she now had no interest in whatsoever, prompting further action from him.

"...but I do agree, his artwork is..." He swallowed hard, not quite believing he was having this conversation with a woman, the thrill of it interrupting his sentence.

"...is, very appealing." Cathy smirked at his dull attempt at keeping her interested, his tone almost containing a pleading element to it, in a desperation to maintain some link between them... she wanted him more and more, and knew it was mutual. Her cunt tingled incessantly, having her find a boldness which shocked even her. She grinned softly, knowing the briefest of liaisons had uncovered something they both wished to pursue, and turned her face to him to show her intent.

"Well perhaps you'd like to discuss it further, over a coffee somewhere perhaps.?"

***

Though they'd both been very guarded over their innermost mutual pleasures during conversation, they'd come close to admitting what they both truly desired from each other... enough to ensure that a further liaison was inevitable, and the possibility of an intimate relationship beyond that. She had found herself already revealing a level of honesty about her penchant for authority she'd never broached with either of her prior husbands, they being vanilla in nature, but he so reciprocal in interest from the opposite level. It was patently apparent through talking, he was submissive to the authority of femininity, and that she would wield the upper hand in any relationship. Dominant.

They came so close as to disclose addresses and exchange phone numbers. Both had masturbated lustily on parting to return home; he kneeling before his bed and sending his semen high on imagining her sat upon it, cross-legged and demanding tribute, she, laying with legs wide and pointing high as she came, imagining his tongue deep in her anus in worship. Both yearned for the excitement of an erotic confirmation, making that inevitably a foregone conclusion.

The following day had not passed much further than noon, as Cathy awaited the buzz of her phone, her will almost demanding it. Clay duly obliged, seemingly under her control already, almost begging over the phone to visit her, on the premise of some mediocre reason - though his tone could not hide his true desire, sending her cunt into a tingle on virtually demanding he attend promptly at a certain time.

***

Clay parked his car in the suburban street some distance from her address, and approached the driveway on foot, admiring the tranquil residences which faced the street through the privacy of their leafy front gardens. He was already beginning to erect on stepping up to the equally secluded frontage of her detached house, seeing that her two marriages had not been completely unsuccessful, the disposal of two husband's having left her with a comfortable and not unsubstantial property, befitting of the independent woman Cathy Dupree now was.

Cathy's arousal matched his initial excitement, on seeing him stride timidly toward her door. She dressed in just a thin shawl over her underwear, her shapely calves taut in black stockings set on high heels, was determined to end any pretentious dithering from the onset, her impatience to assume complete control of a male for the first time, having her slot moistening already in anticipation of it.

Clay felt feverish as he rang the bell, Cathy, already behind it, waited a few moments before responding, enjoying even that simple element of being in control of the situation. She applied the sternest look she could muster, before opening the door, then looked him straight in the eye as she opened it. Astounded by her look, all he could manage was her name.

"Cathy..." She placed an upright index finger to her lips, hushing him, taking control.

"In you come." Clay's cock pulsed at the lush curves of her body wrapped in the shawl, those heels taking her up to the same height as he... and that scent. The product she'd applied was that same subtle fragrance, but today it was enhanced by her natural scents of femininity, wafting from beneath the loose shawl, pulled tight to emphasise her womanly shape. She simply smirked at him with a practiced tinge of contempt as she closed the door behind him, then led him through to her lounge. She stood hand on hip, and simply stated at him.

"Well?" It was patently obvious what they both desired, and Clay just panted, mystified by her dominance, unable to answer her... just wanting to worship her. The atmosphere in the room intensified to one of a hotly erotic haze that neither of them could ignore, nor wanted to, the mood of both reaching a heady pinnacle immediately as Cathy took the initiative, standing with legs slightly apart, and pointing him to the floor between her tall heels.

"Get down on your knees before me... right now."

His lame excuse for visiting her, now consigned to absolute insignificance, as the genuine reason for his visit had him sink obediently to his knees before her, his anus tingling wildly on committing himself to what he'd always dreamed of, and doing so with little or no hesitation. He'd hoped she'd seen the signs that he was submissive to women, and long seen it she had - just the feeling of going down to confirm it, had him overcome with both relief, and a lusty eroticism. Cathy's cunt swelled as she fought to keep her composure, the sigh in her voice, only emphasising to him, her mutual lust at the situation.

"You'll... you'll strip off... I want you naked at my feet." Neither could believe this was really happening; just a day or so ago their lives were set on the same mundane course, but both were excited by the same guarded and deeply erotic wants, which were now unfolding so automatically.

As though in some pert and vividly enjoyable dream, he responded with even less hesitation than his obedience to her command that he kneel, quickly peeling his clothes off, though awkwardly... desperate to know the shame of being naked before her, at her behest. Cathy felt her nipples jut rigid against the fabric of her black lacy bra beneath the shawl that she too would shortly discard, as she watched him struggle in removing his outer clothing, then his underwear... and there was his cock, poking stiff with the pleasure of realising his dreams at last, and mutually obliging hers, at being under the control of a dominant woman.

He kept his head bowed as he awaited her next command, which he'd willingly obey whatever the order, and gasped in amazement at the rigid status of his own cock. Not since being a teenager had it stood so high independently of any manual stimulation, expressing a rigidity normally reserved for when he'd manually stropped over images and articles depicting dominant women; that cock perking even harder at the blissful realisation that he was now naked before one such powerful woman, the tall heels and taut calves clad in black nylon having him yearn to worship her further.

Cathy obliged his wish, as though receiving his pathetic desire telepathically, though his position, and Cathy's cunt tingling with this new and lusciously erotic power, made her next command a formality.

"Kiss my feet... show me you know your place when in my presence..." A feeling of absolute triumph, topped with a pure sexual excitement such as she'd never experienced before, coursed through her as his head went down in utter obedience, and showing no hesitation whatsoever, had his lips and tongue worship the shoes she stood in. His cock pulsed and boned on tasting the leather, finding the pleasure in his submission exquisite. This was where he'd always dreamed of being, and as his tongue slipped around the contours of her heels, he wanted to come there and then, to confirm to her his pathetic adoration of her power over him.

Cathy's cunt tingled with the spiteful pleasure of being in absolute control of a male for the first time, discarding her shawl then her bra, letter her mature breasts sag gently but so invitingly, her broad nipples poking hard like thimbles. As he continued to lather his adoration at her heels, he felt her wriggle slightly, then took in the lush fragrance of her sex, as her panties dropped to her ankles. He heard her laugh, softly but cynically, as she gently lifted each foot in turn to free them.

"Sniff!" Clay crouched in the bliss of obedience, and gratefully sniffed hard at the gusset, the musks and spices of the cunt and anus of the woman who now owned him, having him jerk on his knees as his cock pulsed in longing to come... she thoroughly enjoying his humiliation, and wanting so much more.

"Now sniff my cunt." He looked up, taking in the magnificence of her mature body, her unashamed smile directed down between her full and slightly sagging breasts, the nipples hard in expressing the acute pleasure of her dominance of him. The gentle bulge of her mature belly seemed to somehow emphasise the wisdom of her authority, its curve enhanced by the adornment of a suspender belt, from which the lacy straps caressed her wide feminine hips and graced her broad fleshy thighs with black nylon... and there, between those glorious thighs, nestled the high altar of her dominance, the smoothly shaven bulge expressing her fleshy labia and moist slot inviting his nose.

Clay whimpered as he sniffed at her spice, intoxicated, and still trying to come to terms with the reality of the sheer pleasure of being dominated, his cock aching to spend as his nose was enveloped by the warmth and feminine perfumes, Cathy equally exhilarated by her triumph over him, and more than ready to cement her ownership of him as the pleasurable intensity of her dominance grew. She had a token of absolute superiority which would have him know his place in no uncertain terms, something conveniently left by a prior owner of this house, discarded and left in a stair closet as something of little significance to them, being a little worn. Cathy gently pulled his head away from her cunt, and sneering with intent, pointed him to her panties once more.

"You sniff those again, don't you dare move from this spot... I'm going to get something, and then we'll both get some fresh air." She giggled to herself, though making sure he heard it, the last part of her sentence coming to her as a delicious afterthought... exciting her further. Clay bowed his head in obedience, desperate to sniff at that soiled gusset once more, and watching her strut from the room, his erection boned hard at her magnificent shape as he took in the scent... yes, he was hers, and how he savoured it.

Cathy pulled back the closet door impatiently, her heart racing as she swept coats aside, her cunt tingling as she felt it on the hook. Yes, there it was... her fingers played on thin leather and ornamental studs, her breasts heaving their rock hard nipples. The woman who'd lived there before, ironically alone as she, had owned several large hounds, which she'd noted had been curiously affectionate toward her when she'd viewed the property, sniffing at her crotch immediately, and bringing an instant blush to their owners face. The pert look she gave her, told her she had no need for male company any more. On moving in to the bare house, Cathy found it hanging in the closet, as if left as a memento for her... an old leash with studded collar - large enough to accommodate a human neck - somewhat worn but still useable... and as Cathy clenched it now, the erotic fantasy she'd long held for it, would now come true.

The stern smile on her face alone, had Clay longing to beg for what she displayed to him with what she displayed with an air of pompous spite, but his begging wouldn't be necessary on this occasion, such was Cathy's desire to see him reduced to the status of a dog. Clay's eyes showed his so obvious mutual desire to wear it, and this only stimulated her further as she stepped toward him with a sneer.

"Time to confirm that you'll be no more than my pet now... here for my pleasure alone." She giggled spitefully as Clay kneeled and offered his neck up to her, eager for a humiliation which would be very much the norm now under Cathy's roof. Her cunt bulged as she looped his neck with the studded collar, her mind going to the large dog which had worn it before, and given that woman pleasures which her blush had revealed. Cathy had no need for any other dog however, not now she had one of her own. She felt his throat bulge as he swallowed hard, coming to terms with the pleasurable feel of a tight collar... the feel of an overwhelming humiliation in wearing the mark of absolute ownership by a woman, dominated. But that humiliation was to be enjoyed a little further. Cathy's cunt now buzzed incessantly as she tugged on the leash.

"I may change your name... to say... 'Rex'... or 'King' maybe, imagine the irony in that one." She savoured the moment sweetly, standing over him as he blushed in the pleasure of his submission to her, his cock high in appreciation of his predicament, collared, leashed... owned by her. All Clay's inhibitions had been pushed back one by one after he'd gone down to kiss her feet, and now collared like a worthless dog, those inhibitions had evaporated forever. Her look of mutual pleasure as she held the leash taut, in utter control of him, held him in an erotic ecstasy as binding as any collar. She smiled Wickedly, easing into her new status wonderfully.

"Oh yes, that fresh air." Clay gasped at the feel of the tight collar, his anus tingling in the lust of submission, and further humiliation, as she walked him on all fours along the hallway to the rear door. She sneered down at him, her nipples jutting rigid as she pulled the door open.

"Walkies!" Clay hesitated just a little, automatically, in awe of what was happening rather than any hint of disobedience to her, but a tug on the leash saw him clamber awkwardly across the threshold, to feel the breeze and sunshine mock his naked flesh. Cathy grinned victoriously as she kept the leash nice and taut, that breeze caressing the excitement of her cunt and nipples as she led him onto the the large expanse of lawn without need for cane or whip to prompt him, her command on the leash, all that was necessary.

"Imagine me leading you out like this to face guests at a garden party... how sweetly humiliating, and gratifying, would that be for you?" She didn't await a response, but moved him on to the very centre of the lawn, to have him appreciate maximum exposure. He sniffed at the air as he viewed beyond the shadow cast by her magnificently dominant shape, the image of himself on a leash, keeping his cock rigid, she thoroughly enjoying watching him scan the expanse of the secluded garden, the rooftops of neighbouring houses peeping over the tall trees and shrubs. His cock pulsed at the curiously pleasing agoraphobia he felt, which she detected with a smile. She jerked his leash playfully, letting out a high pitched laugh as she did so, the crisp sound splitting the serenity of the garden, inviting the gaze of any onlookers, if it were possible.

"We're not generally overlooked here, but it's likely there'll be one or two neighbours peeping through the undergrowth, women viewing the lifestyle I'm now showing them with profound jealousy, men who I might have chosen to dominate, no doubt wanking furiously over what they see, compensating for their disappointment at your expense..." She pulled his leash taut.

"We mustn't disappoint any viewers... sniff my cunt again." As he poked his nose enthusiastically to her now liberally lubricated slot, she glanced around her while he sniffed urgently at her spice and the sun warmed her bare flesh, hoping upon hope that someone was witnessing her triumph over masculinity at last.

"...and talking of wanking... you'll masturbate for me now, as we're in such comfortable circumstances." There was hint of any hesitation from Clay now, leashed, naked, and exposed for what he was in the open expanse of a suburban garden, he grabbed his standing cock and looked up past the gentle bulge of her mature belly to see the spiteful smile of the woman who now controlled him, and stroked his aching erection in total submission to her. As the sheer bliss of masturbation consumed him, he too, hoped that his humiliation was being witnessed, not just by one or two prying eyes, but by the entire world.