Sweet Surrender

"Perfect," Cassidy said with a wide smile. "Just what I wanted to hear. Have fun this week," she said as she returned to her desk. Was it Martha's overheated imagination, or did Cassidy actually wink at her as she turned to leave? Imagination, Martha thought. Had to be. She started walking past rows of yowling cats and frantically copulating mice.

"Martha?" Cassidy didn't raise her voice much, but there was a tone of command to it that made Martha instantly stop in her tracks. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Martha turned to see Cassidy holding up the journal. "Oh!" Martha said, scurrying back to pick it up. "Sorry, ma'am," she said.

Cassidy smiled indulgently. "Just remember what I told you, Martha," she said, looking straight at Martha. Her eyes seemed somehow magnified by the glasses. "Write down everything."

"Yes, ma'am," Martha replied, not trusting herself to say anything more. She took the journal and left quickly.

On her way out of the building, she stopped off in the restroom and masturbated. The whole time, she pictured Cassidy watching.

*****

Was that really normal? Martha pondered the question as she drove home. Cassidy had said it was. She'd said Martha was just exploring her sexuality in new ways; but Martha wasn't sure whether she wanted to believe that because it was true, or because it validated her behavior. (Or because for some reason, she got a hot sexy shiver all the way down her spine when she agreed with Doctor Tanner...) Martha had never thought about herself as bisexual; but then again, she had to admit that Cassidy was right. She'd never thought of herself as anythingsexual. Her experience with dating was limited, her experience with sex almost non-existent; really, the more Martha thought about it, the more of a recluse she realized she'd become since getting out of college and buying her house. Maybe she really did need to explore her sexuality more.

On impulse, she swung off the freeway and headed north. She'd never been into the store she was driving towards; but despite thinking of it as a place for perverts, she knew where it was. And a solid week of watching porn had left her knowing exactly the sorts of things she could get there. With a sudden rush of heat between her thighs, Martha remembered just how much the women in those videos seemed to enjoy their toys. Time to see if they really did the job better than fingers. Cassidy was right, Martha decided. For all that she was thirty-three, in terms of sexual experience she was just out of puberty. She needed to make up for lost time, and she could start by exploring her own body. She pulled into the parking lot of 'Adult Playland' with a tiny shiver of anticipation.

When she got inside, Martha almost didn't know where to start. They had whole rows of sex toys, dildos and double-dildos and vibrators and butt plugs and things that looked like they were designed to do practically all those things at once. Martha walked up and down the aisle, occasionally picking up a package and reading some of the text. "Guaranteed to find your G-spot in minutes!" Martha wasn't even sure what her G-spot was. She'd heard people talk about it in some of the porn she'd been watching, but apart from hearing that it really felt good to find, they didn't get into detail. Martha looked over at the counter, where a girl with bright green hair was half-watching a lesbian orgy. Should she ask for help? What would the girl tell her? The thought seemed simultaneously embarrassing and clit-sparkingly hot.

She wandered through a bit more of the store, finding a DVD section. She saw some porn that looked to be a lot more explicit than the stuff she could order over her cable box, and she made a mental note to drift by here again on her way out. Surprisingly, she found herself lingering a lot more over the lesbian porn than the hetero stuff. She'd been enjoying the threesomes and foursomes on pay-per-view; but as she looked at the various covers, she realized that while the cocks still looked nice, it was the girls that got her motor running now.

Which it was, she realized. She wanted to slip off to the ladies' room and masturbate again, but the signs warning, "These premises monitored by closed-circuit cameras" discouraged her. Well, they discouraged the part of her that didn't want to get arrested for lewd conduct. They definitely didn't discourage the part of her that suddenly fantasized about displaying her slick cunny to whoever watched the cameras, giving them a full show of her frigging herself off and-- She locked that thought off, continuing her trip through the store.

She passed by magazines, which seemed pretty tame after the DVDs. She passed by lubes that warmed and lubes that tingled and lubes in all sorts of different flavors. She passed by lingerie, and while she did enjoy a few moments of picturing herself in something lacy, she decided to wait until she'd finished losing weight before she thought about buying any. She passed--

Martha stopped. Her eyes locked onto the display. A mannequin stood there, dressed in a black leather catsuit, holding a broad, flat paddle and wearing a strap-on that jutted from its crotch in a way that made Martha's mouth water. Another mannequin knelt in front of the first, this one wearing an outfit of navy-blue latex, one with holes cut out where the crotch and the nipples went. All around the display, pegs held ball-gags and riding crops and nipple clips and restraints for just about every part of the body.

Martha felt a hot, tingling blush spread over her whole body. She felt like she'd just been plugged into an electrical outlet. Her cunt was absolutely burning with need, the heat radiating all the way up to nipples that had gone hard and pebbly under her clothes. It was like her body had been waiting her whole life for her to see this, to find this secret world of dark pleasure and say, "Mine." She felt like a puzzle piece being fitted into the slot meant for it. She felt like she was an engine and this had finally turned the key.

Her mind raced with fantasies. Everything her eyes alit on became the center of a new daydream. She looked at padded handcuffs, and pictured them locked around her wrists and ankles as she writhed and struggled helplessly. She noticed a set of nipple clips, and imagined the exquisite pleasure/pain of them pinching the sensitive flesh so vividly that she shuddered. Her knees buckled slightly under her, and Martha realized that she wanted to kneel like the mannequin.

"Finding everything all right?" The voice behind her made Martha jump, and she realized as she turned around that she'd been standing there staring at the display for over five minutes. She tried to pretend nonchalance, but the visible damp patch on her sweatpants made it difficult.

"I'm, um...I'm just looking," Martha said. The girl (whose nametag read 'Tammy') gave her a knowing smile that suggested she knew just what Martha was looking at, and what was going through her head when she looked at it. She'd probably seen it all, working here. The green hair, multiple piercings, and visible tattoos suggested that she'd probably seen it all even before she started working here.

"Well, I'm here to help," Tammy said, putting her hand very lightly on Martha's arm. Martha stopped breathing for a moment. "If there's anything you want a closer look at, just ask. It's pretty slow at this time of day, I've got nothing but time."

Was she flirting? Martha wasn't sure. She didn't have much experience with flirting. It didn't happen very often to girls like...Martha's eyes flicked down at her body, reminding herself that she was a slightly more svelte 255. She still didn't exactly feel sexy and desirable, but her body had definitely slimmed down in some of the right places and kept the extra weight in some of the very right places, and Tammy seemed to like what she was seeing. Or maybe it was just Martha's imagination. It probably was. She probably was just being helpful. But she hadn't taken her hand off Martha's arm yet...

"I was just curious about, um...that," Martha said, vaguely waving her arm in the direction of the display. She hoped Tammy didn't ask for more specifics; the other girl seemed to be so worldly about these things, and Martha didn't want to embarrass herself by admitting that she'd never even thought about kinky sex until just now.

"Oh, the paddle?" Tammy asked, taking it out of the mannequin's hand and hefting it with practiced ease. Martha just blushed and nodded, unwilling to correct her. "It's a very nice model, has a lot of control and a good, well-balanced swing." She grinned, her eyes sparkling, and this time Martha knew she was flirting. "If you'd like to see how it feels, I could show you real quick."

Martha's heart pounded in her chest. Her throat closed up. She clenched her thighs together tightly as her head swam. Unable to speak, she just nodded.

"What was that?" Tammy asked. Her smile became just slightly cruel as she swished the paddle back and forth in the air, and Martha's pussy throbbed at the sight.

"Yes, please," she whispered, turning around. She wished she could strip naked to feel this more fully; but there was just enough of her that remained rational to stop herself, to pretend that this was just a product demonstration between a customer and a saleswoman and not any kind of perverse, fetishistic--

SMACK! The paddle slapped against her ass hard, and the intense mix of pleasure and pain brought tears to Martha's eyes. The sensation started out so sharp, so sudden, but then it just melted down into a burning heat on her ass that made Martha rub her thighs together and keen softly over the music coming from the store's sound system. Oh god, this was so wonderful, so hot and dirty and twisted and oh so fucking right that she--

SMACK! Tammy swung the paddle down again, harder this time, and Martha couldn't help herself. She squealed in pleasure at the feeling of the paddle hitting her already sensitized ass. She was wriggling in pleasure now, her eyes clenched shut so that she could focus completely on that wonderful feeling Tammy was causing. She could feel every beat of her heart now, the blood pumping to the stinging flesh of her ass-cheeks and causing a throbbing, pounding rush that was echoed in her clit. She wanted to reach down and finger it, the need was so intense and the pleasure was so powerful and she was so aroused and hot and--

SMACK! Her whole body shook with that swing, and she could hear Tammy breathing hard in a way that she knew wasn't just down to the exertion of swatting her ass. Martha's own breath came in heaving, panting gasps as Tammy held the paddle against her for just a moment, rubbing the raised nubs on the paddle's surface into her burning ass-cheeks. The fabric of her sweatpants felt like it wasn't even there, the sensation just went straight through them and Martha groaned in need, her whole body primed to cum now, her clit throbbing and her cunt soupy and her ass burning and her nipples tight and aching and she was so close, she just needed, needed--

SMACK! Martha let out a choking, strangled gasp as she came. She barely managed to keep her footing as the orgasm overwhelmed her, not even needing to touch herself as the rush of sensation crashed through her like a tidal wave and made her pussy spasm in bliss. She felt her juices flowing freely, and she knew it must be obvious to Tammy that she was cumming, but that just made it so much hotter, so much more exciting to think about the other girl watching her cum from the spanking she'd received. It felt so perfectly intimate, as though she'd skipped taking off her clothes and stripped her soul naked for Tammy to touch.

She almost didn't hear Tammy at first. "Wha...what was that?" she whimpered out incoherently.

"I said, what did you think?" Tammy asked, her voice perfectly neutral. She sounded like she'd just shown off a new toaster.

"I...um...yes, please," Martha babbled.

By the time she left, she had the paddle, a ball gag and a set of padded cuffs for her wrists and ankles, a vibrator that Tammy swore would leave her flat on her back gasping for air, a set of nipple clips, and a half-dozen lesbian bondage DVDs. She'd been tempted to buy the latex outfit as well, but she decided to wait until her weight stabilized, first. The whole way home, her ass throbbed and tingled against the car seat, and she flung her clothes off as soon as she got back into the house.

By the end of the day, she'd watched every single one of the DVDs, and she collapsed into bed (face-down, naturally) with visions of leather-clad dominatrixes dancing through her head. Even her dreams metamorphosized into sadomasochistic fantasies. She dreamt that she was the girl in 'Dungeon of Delight', naked and shivering as the woman in the leather mask drizzled candle wax onto her stomach. Just before she woke up, she watched her Mistress remove her mask, and she saw Cassidy's face...

The next day was devoted to rewatching her favorite moments, and to updating her journal. At first, she was a little reluctant to describe her sexual experiences from the last day, but Cassidy's instructions seemed to echo through her head. "Write down everything." Martha imagined the leather-masked woman saying it, and she found herself writing with one hand while her other hand diddled her clit until her handwriting got very unsteady.

By Thursday, the itch for variety had built up, and she drove back to the store to pick up some more DVDs. She was disappointed to find that there was a guy behind the counter this time. It wasn't that he wasn't cute, and all, and he was very attentive to her (she was down to 219 by now, with no sign of loose and flabby skin--if anything, she seemed to have lost even the little wrinkles and crow's feet she was starting to notice before she started on the chocolates. She could probably pass for twenty-five, now.) But she just couldn't seem to shake her dreams of stern, blonde women in leather. The urge for hetero sex was still there, she realized, but it was somehow...dormant. As though it'd be there waiting for her the second a Mistress commanded her to fuck a man (and she spent the whole time at the register lost in that fantasy, picturing Mistress ordering her to go behind the counter and kneel down, sucking the clerk's cock until he shot his load all over her face and tits...)

She spent the whole weekend naked.

*****

Martha walked slowly through the lab when she returned on Monday, trying to arrange her thoughts into some semblance of normality. It wasn't working. She'd spent so much of the last week immersing herself in BDSM that she couldn't quite seem to connect with regular life again. She walked past cats in heat, mice and rabbits screwing mindlessly, dogs humping each other through the bars of their cages, and every animal reminded her of her own animalistic lust. She clenched the journal in her hand, trying not to think about all the sexual fantasies it contained, and the number of times she'd admitted to fantasizing about the woman she was about to see. (She'd tried very hard to stop herself from writing that, but every time, she thought about Cassidy's stern disapproval, and that got her hot, and when she got hot, she got distracted and it got harder to refuse that refrain in her head of "Write down everything, write down everything," and the thought of obeying a command got her so aroused that she had to just let her fantasies pour out onto the page. She'd actually masturbated to her own journal a few times.)

Cassidy was sitting at her desk waiting for her, jotting down a few notes. "Ah, Martha," she said, looking up. "Lost some more weight, I see."

Martha nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. If she didn't look up at Cassidy, she wouldn't think about that body, those eyes, the way that she dressed to make herself look serious and authoritative and how much it did to enhance her powerful dominant sexuality...Martha became slowly aware of just how submissive it made her feel to be unable to meet Cassidy's gaze, and her pussy began to heat up all over again. "Yes, ma'am," she said. "I'm down to 185."

"Well," Cassidy said, "looking at your BMI, your weight should stabilize over the next week or so. If you lose much more than about sixty more pounds, we'll need to discontinue the regimen--at least until we figure out why your brain doesn't like being at its ideal weight," she continued quickly as she saw Martha's obvious discomfort.

"Yes, ma'am," Martha responded. Her eyes flicked up at Cassidy briefly. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to see--interest, excitement, understanding--but Cassidy had the same look of neutral detachment she'd had in Martha's previous visits. Even that felt strangely erotic to Martha, though; she felt like Cassidy was judging her, evaluating her, testing her to see if she was really submissive enough to become Cassidy's--

She blinked sharply, dredging her mind out of the fantasy. "Sorry, what?" she said. She'd totally lost track of Cassidy's words in her reverie.

"I asked about the journal," Cassidy said. "You have been keeping up with it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Martha said, handing it over with trembling hands.

Cassidy spent long moments flipping through the pages. "I see," she said after a while. "And you've spent all week...like this?" she asked in clipped tones. Martha wasn't sure if she was offended or just trying to keep her professional detachment.

"Yes, ma'am," Martha replied. Now that Cassidy said it, Martha had to admit that it seemed a bit unusual. Exploring her sexuality was one thing, but Martha thought over the last week and tried to remember even a single waking moment where she hadn't been obsessed with sex, hadn't been watching fetish porn or surfing through bondage websites with her ankles cuffed to her computer chair, pulling against the cuffs just to feel the tug of the straps against her flesh as the vibrator buzzed away inside her sticky pussy...

She shook her head a little to clear it as Cassidy peered at her. "Are you aroused right now, Martha?" she asked.

Martha nodded. "Yes, ma'am," she said again. Even those words got her horny. Maybe the drugs in the chocolate really were doing something screwy to her head, she thought, maybe that was why she was constantly thinking about women fucking her with strap-ons while she moaned helplessly into a ball gag, drool spilling down her chin as she bucked back against the fake cock and felt her clit tingling and her pussy spasming in pleasure and--

"Martha," Cassidy said sternly, and Martha realized she'd lost track of the other woman's speech again. "You need to concentrate."

"Sorry, ma'am," Martha said, and apologizing like that made her clit pulse in submissive ecstasy.

"As I was saying, I want to examine you," Cassidy repeated. "If you could just step over to the table, please, and disrobe?"

Martha stifled a whimper as she (obeyed, complied, submitted) followed the instruction. Part of her wasn't even sure if this was real, or if she'd slipped into another daydream of Cassidy ordering her to take her clothes off and lie down on the medical examination table; but if this was a fantasy, it was a vivid one. She slipped her clothes off, all too aware of the wet spot on her panties, and lay back on the table and put her feet into the stirrups. She could feel her juices slowly ooze onto the tissue paper that covered the exam table.

Cassidy pulled on a pair of latex gloves, and Martha gripped the sides of the table tightly in an effort to control her arousal. This had to be deliberate, Cassidy had to know how badly this was getting to her--but no. When she looked at the doctor's face, she saw nothing there but medical interest. Almost deliberately so, like she was getting off on not getting off on this...but that was crazy, wasn't it? Martha was just imagining it because she wanted so badly to see Cassidy as a domme that she was projecting this idea of Cassidy enjoying Martha squirm, wanting to see how much "accidental" stimulation it would take before Martha's veneer of normality broke and she became a whimpering, begging slavegirl who would do anything, anything at all if Cassidy would only let her...