tagBDSMZoe - Training a Submissive Ch. 06-07

Zoe - Training a Submissive Ch. 06-07


Thank you to Zoe for the inspiration for this story. Thank you to Robert (as always) for your helpful comments.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.

Chapter Six

The Third Lesson - Denial

It was half past midnight. The top was down and the chilly night air was whipping across my dress. I watched, fascinated, as the wind made the thin material flutter and dance as if it was alive. The cold air was bracing and head clearing, and as the Jaguar wound its way through the empty city streets I glanced over at Cole, his elbow resting on the driver side door with the breeze tousling his wavy brown hair. He looked as if he was lost in thought. I had just been through an emotional roller coaster, being punished for the first time and then used by him. I wanted to take this moment of tranquility and make a frank assessment of my experience. He had made me feel ... feel so alive ... the emotions so raw and sharp edged that I lacked a proper frame of reference to understand why. He inflicted pain on me - pain that I begged for - pain that overloaded my senses - pain that fueled the most intense orgasms of my life.

I had my hands folded in my lap. I looked at my fingers, long and slender, as I thought about them wrapped around Cole's cock, expressing the remnants of his orgasm on my waiting tongue. I felt wet down there, a condition of arousal I often found myself in these days. The past few weeks with Cole had awakened me sexually. In the past, sex wasn't a focus of mine, but it was now an obsession. Every waking moment Cole permeated my thoughts. I even started dreaming about him.

My reverie was broken when doubts started creeping into my mind. Did I want this? Is this who I am? How did I find myself in this situation, as a submissive to a man I knew so little about? How did he read me so easily? Anticipate my desires? My reactions? It was as if our meeting was preordained and that we were now simply playing out a script written long ago. But I wasn't furnished a copy of it. As I was going through this angst Cole's right hand rested on the area between my bare knee and the hem of my dress. He absentmindedly fingered the hem, then slid his fingers to the inside of my thigh. I was already a live wire from that night's session, and his touch re-ignited those feelings of want that made my body his. His fingers walked upwards on the inside of my thigh, willing me to press towards him so he could touch my ever needy sex. I did so, and he pulled away, teasing me in a playful way. Everything he did had a purpose, and his seemingly casual touch no doubt was yet another subtle reminder that I belonged to him. As I was pondering his next move he broke the silence.

"What are you thinking kitten?" he said, making me wonder if he could read my mind as well.

"Nothing Sir," I replied. I wanted to play this chess match. Was this an offhand question or a part of my training?

"We know that's not true. Did you want me to pull over and spank you right now? " he asked, calling my bluff.

"No Sir, I don't."

"Then tell me. This was all new to you. You were the first to feel the sting of my paddle. Did you enjoy it?"

"You know I did Sir. That's what I was thinking about just now. I'm just having a hard time understanding why I liked it."

I could see that Cole broke into a smile. "So you were thinking about tonight, how it made you feel, and what kind of person you are. Am I right?"

"Yes Sir, that's exactly what I was thinking."

Still staring straight ahead at the road, Cole went to the heart of the matter. "So what kind of person are you kitten?"

I thought about it for a moment. This banter was a part of my training. He wanted me to process these raw emotions and say out loud what I thought, as if those words would be cast in concrete as foundational pieces of our relationship.

"I enjoy pain, Sir."

"That you do, kitten. Do you know why?"

"It ... it intensifies ... the pleasure."

Cole made a quick sideward glance at me as if to emphasize the importance of his next question. "So what does that make you kitten?"

Now I had to think and answer carefully. What kind of woman craves pain and then pleasure? The answer crystallized in my mind. "I ... I ... I'm a slut, Sir."

Cole smiled again. Even his smile gave me pleasure. "What kind of slut, kitten?"

"Your slut, Sir."

"That's right kitten. You're my slut. Do you want to continue with your training?"

"Yes Sir. More than anything ..."

"You're learning about submission. How far did you want to go kitten?"

"As far as you're willing to take me, Sir." Cole had exposed my submissive tendencies to the harsh light of day. He was my guide. I wanted him to show me the way.

"Very well. Be ready for a study session with me on Sunday. I'll pick you up at 9 a.m."

We arrived at my apartment building. He hopped out of the car and ran over to the passenger side to open the door for me. He extended his hand to help me out of the car and then gave me a peck on the cheek. "Sweet dreams, kitten," he said as he let go of my hand.

Even though I slept well that night I was on pins and needles all day Saturday. I spent the day going over my notes for the week and spent an extra hour on my organic chemistry textbook. I told my roommate Bess I had to study and watched her leave for the night with a couple of her friends. She had accepted my relationship with Cole and was out and about exploring her own sexuality, which at present was leaning heavily towards women. That night I ate a grilled cheese sandwich, watched an old movie on AMC, and fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up in the middle of the night when Bess stumbled in with another woman, a tall, stunning redhead, in tow.

"I've got my own Mistress here," Bess said, slurring her words. "This is Kasey."

Kasey, in her heels, was a foot taller than me. I sat up straight on the sofa. "Hello Mistress Kasey."

The redhead flashed a big smile. "Don't pay any mind to Bess. Let's run along now ..." she said as she gently pushed Bess towards her bedroom. As she was walking the Domme turned her head to look back at me. The expression on her face was one of understanding. Perhaps Bess told her about me and Cole.

I knew it was going to be a tough night for sleep for Bess and me.

I set my alarm for 8 a.m. but almost slept right through it. I could hear Bess and Kasey through the paper thin walls that separated us, and it was clear that Bess spent the evening exploring her submissive side with a very experienced Domme. I could recognize Bess's moans of pleasure. I ended up masturbating to the sounds of their lovemaking and didn't fall asleep until 5 a.m.

I finally pulled it together and wrested myself out of bed at a half past eight. I took a hurried shower (I wasn't going to make the mistake again of forgetting to shower) and got out to the curb with seconds to spare. Promptly at 9 a.m. a different vehicle, an old battered Chevy pick-up truck, pulled up at the curb. Cole was driving, but dressed casually in jeans and a faded t-shirt. He looked handsome as usual (although truth be told he would have looked handsome wearing a black garbage bags with holes in it for the arms and legs). The windows in the truck were down. He called out to me.

"Let's go Zoe," he said, surprising me by using my name.

"You used my name Sir," I noted, as I got into the truck. There was a large paper bag sitting on the bench seat. Good smells were coming from it.

"I did," Cole said as he pulled away from the curb. "I think we should separate 'student time' from 'sub time.' When you're in my class or we're out in public I'll address you as Zoe and you can address me as Cole. But anytime I want you to be my sub, I'm going to say the word 'Now' to you. That's your cue that you're to revert to being my sub, no matter where we are. Is that understood?"

"Yes ... Cole."

"Sorry about the wheels. Jaguar's in the shop. We're going to slum it in my truck for the next couple of days."

"It's fine Sir. My uncle used to have a truck just like this. Brings back fond memories of visiting his farm."

Instead of going to his house, Cole drove me to the college's chemistry building faculty parking lot. He gave me the paper bag to carry. We walked from the parking lot to the building, going up a set of stairs to the tall wrought iron and oak doors that guarded the entrance. He fished out the key and unlocked a door to let us in. As we walked into the lobby I heard the door close and lock behind us. We went up the elevator to the third floor, walking down a long corridor lined with heavy oak doors with frosted glass panels identifying the occupant of each office. We finally arrived at a door marked "TA - Chemistry." Cole unlocked the door and let me in. He turned the inside lock handle, which closed with an authoritative "click."

I put the bag on his broad uncluttered desktop. He pulled out two large cups of coffee and two almond croissants. He handed me a paper towel and took one for himself, which we used as impromptu plates. We sat there, silently, savoring the aromatic coffee and fresh pastry. It was dead quiet. We were surrounded by shelves full of books and stacks of papers. You couldn't help but feel you were in the heart of academia, a TA and his student enjoying a Sunday morning working together. Cole had me sit next to him, and for two hours we reviewed the previous week's material, sipping coffee and enjoying each other's company. I then took a practice exam, last year's mid-term, which I aced.

"Well done, Zoe," he said proudly, handing back my practice test with nary a red mark on it. "Here's your reward - Now."

"Now, Sir?"

"Yes, kitten, now."

I took off all of my clothes, neatly folding them and putting them on his guest chair. Now I knew why he had locked the door.

"Lay down on my desk kitten, on your back please."

I laid on my back stretching out on his desk like a lazy feline. He went into his desk drawer and pulled out four equal lengths of rope. He tied a slip knot and made a loop, pulling it over my ankle. He tied the other end of the rope to the leg of the desk. He repeated this exercise for my other ankle and my wrists. He then tightened the ropes until I was comfortably stretched, and pretty much unable to move, my body in the shape of an "X."

He went into his desk again, retrieving something else, and then hovered over me.

"Do you know what these are kitten?"

"It looks like a hair dryer and a spray bottle Sir."

"No kitten. These are the tools I'm going to use for your next lesson. Close your eyes." I did. He slipped a blindfold over my eyes. He then lightly spritzed my face. The water mist felt refreshing. I then heard him turn on the hair dryer. I felt the stiff breeze of the hair dryer across my face. He must have had it on the "cool" setting as goosebumps rose across my entire body and a shiver went down my spine.

"Submission can take a number of forms kitten. I'm going have you learn a new form of submission today with just this hair dryer and spray bottle."

He sprayed each of my breasts. The cold water made my nipples rock hard. He then turned on the hair dryer and directed the cool stream of air across my breasts.

"Oh my God, Sir," I uttered as my entire body went tingly with the sensation of cold caused by the hair dryer. My breasts were begging to be touched. "Please touch me Sir."

Cole ignored my request and sprayed my breasts again, and again applied the hair dryer's cold air. I started to squirm, pulling against the ropes as the cold air evaporated the water. Now my need was becoming greater. Cole knew it as well. He turned the stream of air to my exposed pussy. I discovered how wet I was down there when it felt like I had jumped into a pool filled with ice cubes.

"Ooooooooohhhh," I moaned. He pumped the spray bottle a few times, wetting my inner thighs, and resumed the tortuous blow drying. "Please, Sir, take me now," I begged, knowing my plea would fall on deaf ears.

"Tell me kitten. Are you my little whore?" he whispered in my ear.

"Yes Sir, I am." I think at that point I would have agreed or confessed to whatever he asked.

"Good. Does that mean you'll do anything for me?" Before I could answer he sprayed my pussy with water. I could feel the cool moisture trickling down my thighs.

"Yes Sir ... anything," I answered belatedly. My thighs were trembling with anticipation.

"Would you fuck somebody else if I asked you?" He turned it on the hair dryer, directing it at my leaking pussy. I turned into a live wire, crackling with energy and twisting on his desk, my body writhing and contorting under his wicked instrument of pain and pleasure.

I had to answer in gulps, the breath having left my lungs. "I ... would ... do ... it ... if ... it ... pleased ... you ... Sir."

I could sense the spray bottle over my face, the nozzle dripping on my cheek. "Again, kitten?"

"No ... no ... Sir. I ... I don't think I can take this anymore."

He sprayed between my legs again. "If you cum kitten without permission I'm going to have to punish you."

I knew where this was going. He was trying to see how long I could hold out. It wouldn't be long. I wondered what kind of punishment he had in store for me after I disobeyed him. He turned on the dryer.

"No ... Sir ... please ... I beg of you. Please ... please let me cum." My voice mimicked the desperation I was feeling.

"No kitten, not yet." He sprayed me again and held the dryer on my aching pussy. My clit was throbbing. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

"No ... no ... ahhh ... ahhhhhhh ... ahhhhhhh," I moaned as the orgasm I was desperately trying to suppress broke through and came at me in waves. I felt the ropes digging into my wrists and ankles as I thrashed about on his desk. He didn't stop and I couldn't stop cumming. I was calling his name, shrieking, and panting, as the pleasure became almost painful in its intensity. Finally, he relented and my body went limp as a rag doll. I was a sweaty mess on his desk, panting like a dog, when I was startled to hear a series of sharp raps on the office window. If I wasn't tied down I would have sprung off the desk like a cat, but of course I couldn't do that. All I could manage was a gasp. Cole brushed his hair off his forehead and went to the door, unlocking it and opening it no more than a few inches. I could smell the cheap aftershave of the unexpected guest as it wafted into the room.

In broken English I could hear, "Everything OK in here Mr. Cole?"

"It's fine ... sorry about the noise," Cole said apologetically.

"Yes, Mr. Cole. Sounds like you strangle lady in your office," said the male voice through the small crack.

Cole was obviously a fast thinker. "I'm sorry. I know I'm violating rules here by having my cat in my office. It's just that she's sick and I need to grade these papers ..."

"I understand Mr. Cole ..." Cole carefully pushed the door shut, and then twisted the lock handle with it's reassuring click. I could hear footsteps echoing down the hallway. We burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation, with me tied naked and thoroughly used on his desk.

"I think we'll have to postpone the punishment," Cole said with a slight giggle as he slipped off my blindfold and started undoing the ropes. "I think one visit from the janitor in a day is enough."

Cole took me to the truck. I swear I saw the janitor spot us and smile. I'm sure seeing me confirmed his initial suspicion about Cole having a woman in his office. As we were pulling out of the parking lot Cole took the bit of the alone time to take my temperature.

"Kitten, that was the best part of your training session. How did it make you feel to be potentially discovered by the janitor, nude, tied and abused on my desk?"

"It was total fear, Sir, followed by nervous excitement, the same feeling you get when you watch a daredevil stunt. It was amazing. Thank you Sir."

Cole smiled. "You're welcome kitten. I agree with you. I got quite a charge out of that myself. And are you, and pardon the pun, a fan of the dryer?"

"I am Sir. I felt like I was standing on the wing of an airborne plane. I was shivering but thrilled. I still have chills Sir."

I learned about organic chemistry and sex. It was a good day.

Chapter Seven

Lesson Five - Proving It

It was the next Saturday, almost a week after my lesson with the spray bottle and hair dryer. Cole picked a pizza place that I was fond of. I still remember the corn meal dusted crust, the fresh chopped tomatoes and a mix of asiago and mozzarella cheese. As I said, everything Cole does is for a reason and I figured he was going to sate me with food and drink and make me confess all my sins. I was half right. He didn't make me confess my sins. He wanted to find out why I ended up with him.

He peppered me with questions about my background. I told him about my two older brothers, both of whom adored me and protected me when I was growing up, my mother, who was at times overbearing and at other times as meek as a lamb, and my breadwinner father, who I think loved his recliner chair and television more than his family. Cole asked me about my friends, the teachers I liked, and my past relationships. I was munching on pizza and sipping beer while I gave him details of what I remembered and thought that I had never shared with anyone. I was hoping someday he would speak as candidly about his life to me. But not that day. I had sated my hunger for good pizza and he sated his hunger for information about me. We continued the discussion until Cole pulled the truck (yes, the car was still in the shop) curbside at my apartment building. I opened the door and had one foot on the grassy boulevard as he gave me his parting words.

"I'm getting to be quite fond of you, kitten," he said in his soothing tone of voice.

I got out of the car and leaned in before I shut the door. "The feeling is mutual Sir." We exchanged one last wordless glance before I shut the door. Now feeling cold I crossed my arms across my chest and walked to the lobby door of my building, the still of the night allowing his words of affection to resonate in my mind.

It was dark inside my apartment. The door to Bess's room was shut, and there was no light in the crack below it. I loved Bess, but the intensity of the evening with Cole didn't give me the strength to deal with a long late night conversation with her. I changed into my pajamas, my favorite ones, the ones my mother made for me last Christmas. Somehow I felt comfort in linking the past to what was happening to me now. I felt so detached from what I now viewed as my former life. I didn't want to lose that connection. With Cole now permeating my thoughts I wanted to make sure I had an anchor - a North Star - so I wouldn't lose my way on this new journey. I went into the bathroom and turned on the light. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. The same old Zoe was looking back at me. But was it? I grabbed my hair in the back to pull it away from my face. I stared at the mirror. Was I a slut? There was such a negative connotation associated with that word. But somehow it seemed easy for me to say it to Cole. The word rolled off my tongue. But the context was different. A slut could mean a woman of loose morals who would indiscriminately have sex with multiple partners. I wasn't that kind of woman. I was Cole's slut. Sir. I belonged to him and to no one else. That's how I justified the word in my mind.

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