The Summer Submission Ch. 01

While I'm still trembling, he cruelly pinches my clit. Hard. I - it's like - I've never felt that way before. It's - my entire brain goes empty and blank, and this wave of extreme heightened feeling floors me. I gasp, then laugh. I sound like a maniac, even to myself. It's just so - was so amazing. Oh my god, in the best way possible. It's the thing that breaks me, that makes me his personal whore in a way I'd never wanted to belong to anyone else. I'd never felt so perfectly in sync and attuned to anyone. How could I feel this way so soon, after only knowing him for a few months and with this being the first time we hooked up?

He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back, hard.

"Did you like that?"

"Yes, Ezra..." That feels wrong. "Mr. Kaplan, sir... yes, I did."

"Ah, you can orgasm from me pinching your clit? Don't you fucking move, needy little slut," he says, picking up the knife again and laying the blade flat against my cheek. I lay back, quivering with the afterthrobs of the orgasm and shivering in fear. I'm too far gone then to notice that he carefully keeps the sharp edge away from contact with my skin. He vanishes for a moment, and returns with - something like six leather cuffs and dramatically pulls back a curtain to reveal - an entire wooden x-cross. Who casually has an entire cross sitting in their bedroom behind a fucking curtain? He - this - he does really know what he's doing, and he must really love it if he owns that. Dear god, what had I gotten myself into?

"Please don't," I whisper. He ignores me. "Please, please, don't put me on that thing, I don't, I - what are you going to do to me?"

"You need some discipline, my little burgeoning submissive. Now, be a good fucking slut and learn to take what I give you."

He tames his dark wavy hair, pushing it away from his face, then caresses my face with the blade of his pocket knife. I go still in fear, like I can't breathe. The cuffs go on my wrists, ankles, and thighs, and he secures me to the cross, facing away from him. It's so, I don't know how to explain it, but it makes me so happy and excited. Like sort of giddy and giggly. Which is nuts, because I'm also tied up and he has a knife, and he wants to fuck my tight, virginal ass.

I hear his flogger slicing air before it lands on the center of my ass cheeks. A hot searing pain spreads across me. I startle, and shake in my restraints. He comes around, facing me, and slips his hand into mine, and I squeeze back. And again. I shake, and my scream turns to laughter, a short terse laugh that winds me as a third blow lands. He stops, and I hear something behind me. "That was just to help bring blood to the surface of your skin, for this..." A click, loops - oh god, he's taking his belt off. Then I hear the soft rustling of fabric. I hear him slide the leather strap through his hand before he uses it to strike me. It hurts just as much, though less of a sting, but more humiliating. Tears tremble against my closed eyelids, then spill over. One, two, three, in exactly the same spots as before. Such intention, in the precise placement and each blow being exactly the same level of impact. Four and five. I yelp and cry out. I'm more scared of him now than ever, because he's so perfectly in control of himself with his belt. How, even, when he's hard and horny?

"You're so mean." I say through some combination of tears and breathless laughter.

He's paused to listen to me. He comes around, cradles my face. "Oh, does it hurt?"

"Yes! It hurts a lot! Please stop!!"

"I do like hearing you beg and curse me to hell. You're so shy and controlled, I love bringing you down to this." And he's normally very reserved, professional, and an ideal mentor. Maybe he's just mentoring me in something new. I'm his captive, and he's tormenting me for his pleasure. All of my senses are heightened. Another perfect stripe with his belt. And another. I hear his feet as he turns behind me with his almost cat-like gracefulness, the belt singing through the air before it lands that second blow. He's playful, and there's so much joy in his movement. Every stripe follows a pattern, from the top of my ass down and back again, each blow landing perfectly. How was that level of precision and accuracy possible, especially when he was so aroused? How could he be that disciplined, that controlled? It's so incredible that I know how safe I am with him, with the level of care he was giving me. The thought makes me smile, and he caresses my ass. He goes just a little harder. I cry out, and the weirdest, lovely feeling comes over me. It's like I'm floating, maybe flying. I laugh, a sort of spacy giddy giggle. He keeps going. How does he know what my limit is so well, how does he know to hover right over it? I want to laugh. Maybe I'm going crazy. But I don't feel crazy. It's so good, it's amazing, it feels so intimate, to see him like that and let him see me like this, to reveal our darkest, most forbidden desires to one another. I want more of it. It's better than just plain sex.

"Please, can you be gentle? I've never done this before." I whisper.

"Hm, twenty belt strikes. I'm glad to have introduced you to this." He dismounts me from the cross, then gathers me up in his arms again, and kisses me deeply. "And Rachel, I am being gentle." It's very sweet, but I can feel his excitement. Oh, no. No, I know what he wants, no, no...

Then I'm face-down, ass-up on his bed, and he's straddling me while cuffing my wrists to his bed. I try to push up, but he cuffs my thighs and ankles. Okay, maybe it'll be okay. Please don't touch my -

He's spreading my ass, and I can't stop him. He's rubbing me with what must be lube.

I can't bear this. Everything felt so lovely and floaty and surreal, and now we're back to everything being almost too much and he's being an awful demon. Wait - do I really think he was being lovely when he was beating me with a belt? I howl, in no small part because I realize how I'm bending to his control. It was bad to want to be controlled, hurt, and degraded. And how desperately I wanted him to be pleased with me. Oh, no...

"No, no, everything was so floaty before, and now I can't, I've never done that before, and I can't start with that. Please no...."

"It's called subspace, Rachel, and I have so much more to teach you. Please no, what?"

"Don't do that, please don't."

"Oh, but what am I doing? Use your words."

He's such a condescending ass! A hot flood of shame fills me, and drips from my pussy and probably on his sheets. "Please don't touch my asshole." I whisper, teeth gritted.

"Now why would I stop, when we're enjoying it so much?" It's so fucking good. It's a weird good, like, his finger shouldn't be there, it feels so unnatural, and dear god, it's so good, so taboo, so forbidden, which just makes it better.

When he pauses, I try to push up. He pulls my head up by my hair. It hurts, and I screech in pain.

"You were very clearly enjoying taking my finger in your tight little asshole. Look at your pussy. I can fucking see what a wet, slimy mess it is." My eyes go wide as another rush of wetness pulse through me. I want this so desperately that it's embarrassing, and yet, I don't want this at all. I'm horny for it, but I'm so, so scared of it. And what if I can't handle it? What if it's too much, will he despise me if it is? I want so badly to please him, and I want so much just to get away from him so that I don't displease him, so that I don't get hurt.

"Please, please, what if I can't, what if it's too much, what if - "

"Shhh, I'm the one in control here. I want to break you until you're my adorable little fucktoy, my personal whore."

I shiver at the thought of breaking, breaking me, molding me to be his personal whore. Then he's pushing something cool and slippery into me...it's heavy, cold...glass...it hurts deliciously.

"What - what is that?"

"It's a glass plug. Have you ever been plugged before, Rachel?" Then, it gets wider, it's too much, I can't take it, it's too big for me, no, no, I clench my hands.

"No, stop! It hurts, please stop! Nooooooo."

"Shhh, it's all the way inside you now. You took it just fine. If you relax, it'll hurt less." I shudder, trying not to sob. It's too much, altogether too much, I've never been put on a cross, or tied up, or hit with a belt, or had a plug in my ass and he's somehow done all of this to me in a span of no time.

Then I feel his hand, warm and comforting, slip into mine, and I squeeze back. He gently climbs on top of me, and wraps his arm around me, so that we're both on all fours. "I know it would be more sexy if I kept going in the same vein, but I want to make sure you're okay with, you know, what's next. But even if you want to stop now, this was worth the risk. You've made me very happy, little girl."

I sniffle. These tears are a different kind, and I feel - I don't know - a feeling of happiness and care that will linger after this night is over. "It's so hot that you checked in and asked. I - I'm enjoying this, it's really good. Thank you."

"What a gift, Rachel. You're sure you want to give it to me?

"Yes. Would you like me to beg you to - fuck my ass, Mr. Kaplan?"

"Oh, you just did. Such a needy slut."

"No, I didn't. I - "

"Too late. Your tiny, tight little asshole is going to take my cock. How do you think that's going to feel, if it was so hard to take a little fucking plug?"

"No, no! Fuck you, no, stop!" He gently pulls the plug out, rubs me with more lube, tears the wrapper of a condom. "You're - no, no!"

"I'm what?"

"You're a monster, you're awful, you're the worst! I hope your dick falls off!"

"Oh, do you? But baby, how would I fuck that needy pussy and ass and mouth then? Mmm, how does it feel to know you're about to get the ass fucking you just asked for, the one you've probably fantasized about, my little anal whore?" He's practically purring. His cock is between the halves of my ass, gently pushing at the small opening there. Panic sets in. Oh my god, he was right, how much would his cock hurt if I could barely take a plug? No, I can't do this, it's going to be too much, I can't handle it, it'll - no.

"No, no, no! Stop, no, please, no, stop, no..." Very slowly, the head of his cock inside of me eases into me. I can't bear it, it feels like it'll rip me in two, it's too much, he's too big, I can't, it hurts so badly. "No, god, please, no, you're too big." He slides in and out a bit, more lube. I'm nearly sobbing, I can't stand this, maybe my asshole is just too small, then another little push, and I swear I'll never be the same.

I shudder, hard. The thickest part of the head of his cock is inside that tight, barely yielding ring of muscle at the entrance of my ass, and the worst is over. He's slowly pushing into me, in and out, inching deeper with each thrust. And then, it starts to feel good. I mean, really good, that pleasure tempered by a bit of searing pain. I'm barely aware of that I'm moaning, gripping his sheets with my fists, helpless under him, as he fucks that tight little hole. That pain makes me feel more alive to the pleasure, more sensitive, and his cock feels so fucking exquisite, so perfect, and I hear him groaning a bit in time with my moans, our bodies entwined and locked together...

"Do you like this?" I put my face down in his pillow, moaning. He grabs my hair, "I asked you a fucking question."

"Yes, Sir, yes, I like it."

"Tell me what you like."

"I - I like you fucking my tight little asshole." I say it, then I screech, face down into his pillow, forced to name my degradation and shame, and naming the desperate pleasure I'm taking from it to please him. With that, I tip over, the muscles of my tight sphincter tightening on my cock, and my empty pussy clenching, and I'm moaning in pleasure.

He groans above me. "Did you just fucking cum on my cock in that little ass, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Sir," I quiver weakly, as he speeds up, and reaches down, pinching my achingly wet clit.

"Yeah, you like that? You like having a thick, hard railing your tight little hole? You took my cane on your ass and cock in your ass before I fucked your throat or pussy, before I ate you out. God, you're the most desperate, cock-hungry whore. So fucking easy. Such a damn slut for my cock." He pinches my clit.

And it's so exquisite, so fucking amazing, and I'm hit with another one of those mind-melting orgasms, and I put my face into his pillow so I don't break his eardrums as I squeal in ecstasy, and I hear the triumph in his low laughter, his little growls of pleasure as I tighten around him, my pleasure feeding into his pleasure, in a loop of reciprocal pleasure that's better than anything, both of us in sync and entwined. I'm moaning and squealing again, and he's going hard and fast and his breath is ragged and hard, and he is pulsing inside me, so hard he feels like a rock inside, violent spasms as jerked, repeatedly, deep inside me, and god, his cock is so fucking good and I scream as tighten as he explodes...

And he lays on top of me for a moment before withdrawing his cock, then he releases my cuffs, and pulls me into a stronghold in his arms. I lay spent in his arms, a bit overwhelmed, happy though everything feels a bit surreal. I suppose I could move, but I still feel as if I'm under his restraints. My mind is still shackled.I feel an ecstatic calm, a little giddy, a tiny bit anxious. Did he enjoy that? Did I please him? I moan into his chest.

"Everything okay?" He grips a fistful of my hair, using that hold to move my head so he can see my face. Ever the hunter playing with his prey, the dom with all the control.

"Yes, it's good. Was that okay for you, Mr. Kaplan?"

"More than okay. You're a very good girl, and you've given me so much tonight."

"I have a great teacher."

"I do mean what I said earlier, Rachel. I do really 'like you'. And the sex was totally your fault, horny little slut." He lightens on emotional charge of his words, then changes the subject very quickly. Still, my heart lightens, the anxiety dissipating. He must want more of me.

"My fault? You forced yourself on me!"

"Oh, did I? I seem to recall someone asking me if she could beg for my cock in her ass."

"What, I - no. I begged you to stop."

"Yes, you did that too. It was very sexy."

"Sexy? What?" I playfully, lightly pummel his chest. He catches my fist, and pulls it to his chest. The way he's looking at me makes me feel precious and beautiful.

"Hmm, I'm delighted to mentor you in this new way. God, finally. I kept wondering, does she, you know."

"I'm delighted you're mentoring me, too. How are you so perfect?"

"Am I, Rachel? Not a monster, mean, a demon? Or am I those things, too?"

I think I'm beginning to understand how he's so confident, how he maintains that control to feed his strong sense of security. It soothes him and his anxieties, the way giving in as completely as I did soothes mine. For me, the person he's mentoring professionally, it's perfect. For another woman, perhaps not so much, it might be his fatal flaw. For me, the past few hours were like taking a mental and emotional vacation. I got to turn off all my constant Rachel-anxieties, stop worrying about the future and whatever else, and let him turn me into a toy, a plaything for him to manipulate and bend to his controlling and cruel power. He is an exacting master, and there is a price to pay for his perfection. There's a lot I'd do to have his gorgeous cock filling me again, and for his beautiful brain.

"You're right, I like both sides." Shyness hits me again, and I bury my face in his chest so he can't see. He tilts my chin up, so I face him again and he can kiss me again. Then he gets up, taking the plug and used condom with him. I snuggle into his bed.

He puts lube on the plug when he gets back. "No, I can't - I really can't, I mean it this time. I'm so sore..."

"Hush. I'm going to put this plug back in your little ass to train you. So it won't hurt so much next time."

"You're not lying?"

"Shhh...I indulged you earlier, but don't ask so many questions. You'll take whatever I choose to give."

He flips me over, so I'm lying on my stomach again, and he pulls up my hips. I'm too far gone to protest anymore. I bury my face into his bed, wondering what he's planning to do next, shivering in dread and anticipation.

I feel the tip of the plug against me. It hurts so freaking much. I suck air through my teeth, shuddering. I thought I could bear it this time, but it already hurt so much from taking his cock that I can't - I can't bear it - and I put my head down and scream in pain. "Mr. Kaplan - I"

"Relax, sweetheart. If you tense up, it'll hurt more because I'll have to force it in. Aren't a good master, plugging you so that it will hurt less next time I fuck that little hole?"

Silence. And then, he pushes it in. Pain screeches through the hole, sharp shots of pain that are worse in the parts his cock had brutalized so shortly before. I screech and shout, then burst into a laugh when he seats the hellish little weight inside of me. I'm riding on his high, a cocktail of adrenaline and endorphins.

He flips me around, and he looks into my face. "That's what happens to little maso-submissive sluts who ask too many questions and don't trust me. Now, I asked you a question that you didn't answer, sweetheart: aren't I a good master plugging you so it'll hurt less?" Strange how condescending he could make sweetheart sound,

"No, you're awful, Sir. It hurts like hell," I say, breathlessly giddy still.

"Oh, am I? Hmmm, strange words for an anal slut, when you're laughing while I plug your little hole."

He grabs a huge dildo with a suction base. Is it 8 or 9 inches? I can't quite tell. He sticks it to a wall under the cross, lifts me up, and lines up my mouth with it. He cuffs my wrists to the cross, then wraps my throat in a high leather collar, rendering me helpless again. Then, he grabs the hair on the back of my head, and forces me to the dildo. He pushes me forward on it, and the collar is too damn high and too damn tall for me to turn my head away. The thick rubber cock goes past my lips, and I push my tongue down as he forces it into my mouth. Further and further, past the opening my throat, into my throat. I ball my helpless hands into fists, as he brutalizes my throat with it, in and out, over and over, deeper and deeper. Tears stream down my face and onto my tits, and I'm helpless to wipe them away. He must be imagining what it would feel like to have his cock in its place. Hell, I'm imagining what it will feel like to have his cock in my throat, and the thought makes me wet for him. I don't want to gag, so I relax my throat. I want to show him how well I could suck his dick. I swirl my tongue around it, giving him a little show. I press my thumbs into my fists, and he has me take the dildo to the base. He pets my hair then, a reward. Oh, thank god, he's pleased with me. I was a good girl. The thought makes me drip, it's running down my thighs and legs...He leaves the rubber cock in my mouth, so I'm gagged by it.

"Wasn't that nice, having a thick cock railing your throat? You're such a good little cocksucker, sweetheart, we'll try that with my cock next time."

I would laugh more if I could, at the ridiculousness of what a fucking slut I must look like now, with a plug in my ass and a dildo gagging my throat, cuffed to a cross as if I was worshipping before it, on my knees with my ass still warm and red from earlier. He kicks my knees apart, and kneels between them. He reaches up, twists my nipples in his finger, and then pinches. I try to screech, but my mouth is full, and my saliva is welling up in my mouth. Then, his fingers reach again, but there's something - something bites down, metal, hard, and hurts so fucking badly that I'd scream his ears off if I could. I try to suck air through my mouth and breath, but he put a fucking dildo in it and I don't even have that to ease that roaring hurt. I shake against him as the pain of that hard bite subsides, but the metal clamps stay on my tit. Then the other one, and I bolt up again, another wave of mind-altering pain. It's torture, I can't even scream or breathe out the pain. I just have to - take it.