The Model Submissive Ch. 01

Roland and Stacy chatted away during the long drive. He learned a little about her family and that she'd gone to school for business management. However, each time he tried to probe into her hobbies or personal life, she was vague and evasive. Stacy always turned the questioning back around on Roland, probing him insatiably on everything from his relationship with his mother to his biggest fears and regrets.

He answered her earnestly, often turning to gawk at the beautiful woman. Her aviator sunglasses beamed in the bright light of late morning as her high ponytail flapped in the breeze. The wind flowed through the car from cracked windows as they grew closer to their destination. Although he was often oblivious to such things, even Roland realized she was growing more flirty the further they went.

"Do you know how ridiculous it is that you're still single?"

"That's what my Mom keeps telling me."

"She's right. You're what women call a catch."

"Am I being caught, right now?"

Stacy snickered. "Slow down, tiger. It's a long week ahead."

"That wasn't a no."

The curvy brunette peered over at him before turning her eyes back to the road. "I won't deny, my interest in you has evolved. You've been so thoughtful, kind and accommodating. I wasn't sure at first, but I think you might be my type, Roland."

'Holy shit! Is this the real life?!? Was Felix right???'

"Stacy... I'm flattered."

"I know mixing business with pleasure can be dangerous, but the dark side of me enjoys that."

"The dark side? What are you, a Sith?"

The mesmerizing model let out a loud, lilting laugh. "Maybe" she said with a grin.

"Well, if you're a Sith, I'm happy to be your apprentice."

"We'll see if you still feel that way after you find out what a taskmaster I can be! I'm going to make thorough use of you, in more ways than one."

Roland's face was now beet red. He had no cool response to such a provocative and sexually charged declaration.

Stacy turned her gaze on him again. "Relax. Just do your best over the next week and we'll see where things go."

* * * * *

When they arrived at the lake house, Stacy took Roland for a stroll around the property. They toured the swanky looking home and took a trip down to the shore. It gave them the chance to stretch their legs after the long drive and allowed Roland to get the lay of the land. After the short hike, Roland set to unloading the car. It took him over a dozen trips to carry in the numerous garment bags, suitcases and boxes of supplies. Stacy lounged on one of the living room sofas, calling out instructions for where each load should be taken every time Roland entered the house with his arms full.

After a short lunch break, they launched into the cleaning. Or rather, Roland did. There were numerous tasks to perform, from dusting and vacuuming to window washing and sweeping the long wraparound porch. Each time he completed one task, Stacy assigned him a new one. She watched him with her hands on her hips, making sure he was doing the job properly before she strutted off to continue unpacking.

A less horny man might've cared that he was doing the vast majority of the work, but Roland was glad to. Each time he got an eyeful of Stacy in her form-fitting black tank top and tight, distressed jeans, he was filled with abundant energy and renewed purpose. Roland was determined to go all-out for the woman who'd opened new doors for him and hinted at the possibility of even more.

When it was almost six o'clock, he returned from raking leaves in the yard to find Stacy in the kitchen preparing a meal. She told him to take a load off and Roland collapsed on one of the sofas while the smell of a wonderful Italian meal gathered in the background. For a while, it felt like they were a married couple, enjoying the first day of their vacation together. The young man was surprised to find how much he relished the idea.

After a wonderful dinner, they retired to the living room. Stacy sat next to Roland on the plush leather couch opposite the large, widescreen TV. They surfed through endless channels of satellite cable garbage until they found something decent to watch. Roland barely paid attention to what was happening on screen. He was too preoccupied with the beautiful sunset and how Stacy kept inching closer to his body until her exquisite curves pressed into his side.

She lounged against him for a time and Stacy's perfume washed over him like soothing wave. It had a floral base of rose and jasmine, but with hints of sweet vanilla. Eventually, her right hand crept over Roland's left thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Time for a drink" she announced before popping up and strolling to the bar.

The sultry hostess returned a few minutes later and set a copper mug filled with spirits and ice on the table in front of Roland. She smiled and took a sip from her own.

He reached down and picked it up. "What's this?"

"It's called a Moscow Mule. Vodka, ginger beer and lime juice."

"Oh boy... Last time I had vodka, the morning after was less than pleasant."

"Always a risk, but I promise you've never had a cocktail this tasty" she replied while taking her seat again. Stacy raised the drink in the air. "Let's renew our toast. To new beginnings!"

"To new beginnings" he repeated before lifting the drink to his lips. Roland took a large sip and the frigid combination of spicy and sweet liquid charged down his gullet. "Woooo! Yeah, that's got a nice zing to it. Good flavor."

"Right? Don't hold back. There's plenty more where that came from."

Little by little, Roland downed the beverage. Stacy's curves pressed into his side yet again. Feeling a little bold, he extracted his arm and slipped it over her head, laying it along the back of the sofa as she leaned against his shoulder. Within ten minutes, his muscles relaxed completely. The buzz flowed through his body and mental fogginess descended. Roland's mind grew giddy as his body became calm as a Hindu cow.

He set his empty glass down, almost missing the table and dropping it. "Jezus... Dun know if I can drink anozer of those..."

"One is plenty for many people" Stacy confirmed with a smile.

A few minutes later, Roland began nodding off.

"Alright, looks like that's it for you" she proclaimed. Stacy set her glass down and placed a hand flat on his chest. "Let's get you to your room before you pass out on me."

"Sorry... Juz really tired..."

"It's okay. I'll help you there."

With her assistance, Roland rose and stumbled from the living room into the hallway. He staggered down the corridor with Stacy holding his side until they reached the guest room that contained his luggage. Roland was only half awake as he felt his shirt being pulled off. He fell back into the bed and realized his shoes and socks were being removed as well. His belt buckle jingled at it was undone, followed by the loosening of his pants and the alternating tug at his pant legs until they were down his body. Roland was already in blissful darkness. He melted into the mattress with nothing left on but his boxers.

"Goodnight my adorable pet. Sleep well. We have a busy day tomorrow."

"Yeah... night..."

* * * * *

*snip snip snip snip*

Roland's crusty eyes peeled open, but only halfway. His body felt heavy and cumbersome. His head swam with nausea. His limbs wouldn't move. Stacy sat near the bottom of the bed, wearing only a black bra and short-shorts. Ripping sounds unwound as Roland's boxers were torn away from his waist. Cool air rolled over his flaccid cock and balls.

"Wha the...?"

Stacy set the scissors to the side of the bed and leaned her face down close to his.

"Go back to sleep, Roland." Her voice echoed in his head. "It's not time to get up, yet."

"I... Wha-? Okay..."

His awareness slipped down into the darkness once again.

* * * * *

When consciousness returned, Roland felt something snug around his neck. The scrunch of leather creaked and the clink of metal buckles rang out as Stacy completed her work. Her perfume filled his nostrils again, slowly bringing Roland back to the world of the living. She lifted his head a final time and double checked the fittings. When Stacy released him and his head fell back into the pillow, Roland could feel something solid and rectangular propped behind his neck.

"Ugh... my head."

"I'd offer you ibuprofen" Stacy said, taking her hands from the device around his neck. "But it doesn't really help."

As his eyes opened fully and the woman stepped back, Roland got his first look at Stacy's new form. Except in a few places where her lightly tanned flesh was still visible, her entire body was covered in shiny black. Thigh-high boots, latex pants, a leather corset, black rubber bra and arm gloves that reached up to her biceps. She even had the officer's cap atop her head and a riding crop in her hands.

Stacy stood before him, the quintessential, sexual disciplinarian. A full body shot of her in this outfit could serve as the dictionary picture for 'Dominatrix.'

'Oh fuck... What's happening?'

Roland tried to raise his arms and found they wouldn't budge. He tugged with his legs and discovered that they, too, were held down. He gazed from side to side and down the length of his body. Leather cuffs with tiny padlocks were tight around his wrists and ankles. Each was secured to a corner of the bed.

As foreboding as they were, his restraints weren't what made his eyes go wide with shock and fear. It was the metal cage locked around his flaccid dick and the rectangular device strapped around his balls that filled him with sudden terror. From it's shape and dimensions, it seemed similar to the one pressed against the back of his neck.

His gaze lifted to his employer, his eyes showcasing a combination of panic and incredulity.

"Stacy! What the fuck is this?!?"

Roland cringed and his head pushed back against the pillow. The persistent ache swelled and surged through his cranium. Getting excited and angry in his current state would only make the hangover worse.

"It's the first day of your new life."

He shook his head back and forth and the metal bits around his collar rattled. "Oh, no! I didn't agree to anything like this!"

"Yes, you did. You signed up for a week as my bitch. It's not my fault you suck at picking up context clues."

Roland snickered. "I knew this was too good to be true--"

"Shut up."

"Was it all a lie?"

Stacy lifted her crop above her head.

*SNAP SNAP*

She thrashed the flexible leather rod into Roland's torso followed by a strike across the cock cage.

"Ahhhhh! AHHHHHHHH!!!"

"I could've gagged you while you were waking up. It makes explaining things much easier. Are you going to shut the fuck up and listen? Or do I need to stuff that filthy mouth of yours?!?"

"No... I mean, yes! I'm sorry! I'll listen."

Stacy tucked the crop under her arm. Her cold gaze locked on Roland's soft, brown eyes as he lay in his web of bondage and tried not to tremble.

"Everything I've told you is the absolute truth. You're going to serve as my photographer. At other times, you'll be modeling, just like me. You will receive much training and education, along with some discipline. This is a new beginning for you. Not just of a career, but a whole way of life. This is my gift to you. And all you have to do... is everything I say. With no hesitation."

"And if I don't?"

Stacy lifted her left hand. It contained a small, black remote. She pressed the first button.

A jolt of surging pain ripped through the back of Roland's neck, coursing through his muscles and damn near paralyzing him. The sensation slid up and down his spine with raking, savage convulsions. It felt like a hundred tiny seizures assaulting his nerves simultaneously.

Stacy pressed a second button.

The same agony flooded his scrotum and coursed up through his nethers into his caged cock. The sensation arced through his pelvis and spread through his glutes and thighs. Roland grunted in anguish. His body strained. He tried to yell, but his lips and tongue remained frozen within a stunned open mouth. He thrashed in his bonds for long seconds as Stacy watched him with sadistic glee.

Finally, she hit the release button and both TENS units deactivated. Roland's muscles relaxed, his nerves free of the jolting pain as he moaned in blissful relief.

Stacy said nothing for a few moments, letting him soak in the difference between disobedience and compliance. She stalked forward, her boot heels clacking off the floor until she was near his sweaty brow. The stoic Domina leaned down and got in his face.

"That was twenty five. They go up to a hundred. Be a good boy and I won't have to use them... much."

Roland nodded his head vigorously. "Yes... Mistress?"

Stacy looked pleasantly surprised. "A fast learner! That's what I like to see! Open your mouth."

He parted his lips without a second thought. Roland had no desire to feel the terrible combination of tingling shock and muscle seizure ever again.

The grinning Domina reached down and speared two latex fingers directly into Roland's mouth. She pressed them all the way down his warm, wet tongue and rooted around in his maw.

"Suck, slave! Get a good taste! Yes, that's it..."

Roland sucked for all he was worth. Her rubbery digits slid back and forth in his mouth, growing more coated in his gooey saliva with each penetration. Soon, her fingers were slurping in and out of his lips loudly. As she finger-fucked his mouth, the smile that lit up Stacy's face was a sight to behold.

'Christ, she's really getting off on this! This is what does it for her? Really??? A shame, since she is hot as fuck in that getup. But I didn't come here to be a psycho's play-thing. She's gotta untie me eventually if she wants me to take pictures or model shit. That'll be my chance...'

"I know what you're thinking, Roland. You'd rather bite these fingers than suck on them. You think once I untie you, I'll be vulnerable. That if you can get this remote from me, you're home free. I warn you, now, to abandon such notions. Mistress has thought of everything and resisting me will only bring you more pain. You have my word on that. On the other hand, if you obey, your stay here will be much less difficult. When it's over, if you're not satisfied with your new life, you may return to your old one."

With an especially messy slurp, Stacy pulled her glossy black fingers from his violated mouth.

Roland nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mistress! I understand now. I'll do as I'm told."

Stacy's eyes narrowed. "I want to say good boy, but I'm not sure I believe you. I see defiance in those pretty, brown eyes of yours. That's fine. It's going to make breaking you in so much more fun."

* * * * *

After the initial shock of his new predicament wore off and Stacy released him from the bed, things went smoothly for a while. She gave him a pair of black latex briefs to wear, which wasn't particularly comfortable, but was certainly better than having his shock-collared balls hanging out in the cool air. Aside from their unusual attire, the morning and early afternoon proceeded much like the previous afternoon had. Stacy gave orders and Roland followed them.

She leashed him and led him to the kitchen where some red ginseng health tonic cleared up his hangover. As he drank the less-than-tasty liquid, she prepared a smoothie for their breakfast. It was loaded with fruits and protein powder. Once they'd downed their healthy meal, she took Roland to another guest room which would serve as a dressing room and storage area for all the clothes they'd be modeling. From the amount of sex toys and fetish clothing that were unpacked and on display, it became apparent what Stacy meant when she let the word 'gear' slip.

The demanding vixen ordered him to spread his arms out and remain in a T-pose while she wrapped a sturdy leather and steel harness around his shoulders, legs and torso. Soon, the thick straps were locked snugly around his chest, back, waist and ass. It offered many O-ring and D-ring anchor points for quick and easy bondage.

Even with the briefs and harness on, he was still mostly naked. It's difficult to overstate how vulnerable being in the nude makes you feel, especially when being ordered around by a woman that's covered in black rubber and wielding toys that can inflict terrible pain on you at a moment's notice.

The fight or flight instinct welled up in him a few times, but Roland didn't act on it. Without fail, Stacy's warning echoed in his mind. It didn't seem worth the risk to test her, especially now that she was being more cordial. Besides, as degrading and deceitful as the arrangement was, Roland found himself subject to intense curiosity.

What would make a woman like Stacy go to these lengths for a little kinky fun? Surely there were plenty of guys begging for this treatment. Perhaps it was finding one she fancied, who also happened to be a photographer, that presented such difficulty. Or maybe she preferred seducing an oblivious young man into her web of perversions rather than entertaining a willing victim.

His all-controlling Mistress didn't give Roland long to ponder such things. She grabbed his leash and whisked him downstairs. The large basement floor harbored a laundry room, a small home gym and a large storage area. Stacy put him to work re-organizing the storage space to make room for their makeshift studio. When that was done, he jumped right into setting up the lights, the backdrop and the rest of the equipment. For the next half hour, Roland was nearly able to forget he was now a collared slave to his devious employer.

When all was ready and the lights were on, Stacy took center stage. Despite her glossy, Femdom form and the bondage harness tight around Roland's body, they entered their old roles seamlessly. Stacy posed for the camera and he took dozens of pictures of the gorgeous woman from every desirable angle. Roland couldn't deny that the shiny fetish clothing highlighted her curves exquisitely. It was a feast for his eyes alone, until the work was done and the best shots were chosen and edited.

When the first set was complete, Stacy excused herself to change.

"I'll be back in ten to fifteen. Don't leave this room unless it's to use the bathroom."

"Alright."

"What did you say?"

"I mean, yes Mistress!"

"Don't make that mistake again. You will address me as Mistress, Mistress Stacy, Goddess, or Madam Deborah at all times, unless I say otherwise. Further mistakes will result in correction."

"Yes, Goddess."

"Good boy." Stacy tapped his chest with her crop before striding to the stairs and heading back up.

A while later, she returned wearing a leather bunny mask, some lacy purple lingerie and fishnet stockings. Black high heels and a fierce looking leather whip rounded out her ensemble. They took their positions, again, and a second full series of glamor shots were taken.

The day stretched on. The cycle repeated until Stacy's sixth trip upstairs.

"Last one for today. Be back in a bit."

"Yes, Madam Deborah."

As her heels ascended, Roland's anxiety built to a breaking point. He wondered what came next, once the photography was done for today. Each time she'd gone upstairs, Stacy disappeared for a good ten to fifteen minutes. If he wanted to make a break for it, this might be his last chance today. She'd watched him like a hawk at pretty much all other times.

His inner monologue was a battle between desperate optimism and fearful reality.

'Just fucking go for it! This is your best opportunity!'