Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series

by Caldwell, Cordelia

He stroked her hair holding her back against his front like he had in the kitchen. She had run all out of strength to fight him. That click had felt so final, but she was too exhausted and defeated to do anything else, or to come up with an alternate plan. “Shhh baby.” He was whispering to her softly in his rich baritone, his voice was so beautiful. She felt like a tamed mare, that thought made her struggle again and she felt his arms weaken a bit. She was ready to squirm away when his hand went to the back of her neck and started to massage it. She hesitated, it felt - really good. K sat her down between his legs on her bottom, “I’ve caught you now,” He said. “stop running Francine.” He continued the massage, it was relaxing and yet titillating at the same time. A part of her didn’t like the feeling and a part of her didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  K smiled above her. She was filled with so much resistance, so much indecision, but she liked his hands, his kiss. Chasing her, finding her had worked him up. He wanted to kiss her again, to reach around and cup her breasts as her sweet taste filled his mouth. He remembered their kiss that morning too. She liked sugar in her coffee, it had made her kiss taste like honey. He felt himself harden. He wanted her very badly and he could not remember when a woman had been denied him.

  He thought about the irony of buying this one, from a sex slaver, and yet not being able to enjoy her sexually. Slowly he felt her muscles relax, then her body. He’d pulled down her scarf to fasten the collar, her neck was soft, creamy. Not able to resist he lowered his head and gently sunk in his teeth before kissing up her neck. He heard her swallow, know she was fighting with herself, fighting against the pleasure. It was fine, they had nothing but time, and the odds were in his favor.

  He was doing it again, touching her, thought Francine. He always seemed to be touching her, and now he was kissing her, again. She had to make him stop. His lips on her neck were warm and dry as they inched toward her ear, and now they had reached that spot just behind her earlobe, she felt his soft tongue and gasped, heat easing from her. She realized she wanted his hands on her breasts and asked, “How’d you find me?” desperate to distract him. She turned looking up at him.

  “It was easy Francine.” He was close, too close; his breath smelled like mint. She inched away a bit trying for more space between them. He smiled seeing the movement. “I like to hunt. You can’t hunt without being a halfway decent tracker.” He looked down at her body, then back up. “You’re easy to track.” He said. Then without another word he cupped the back of her head and pulled her lips close to his, his head slanted. He stopped just before their lips touched. He whispered, “See, right now Francine, I can smell your heat.” Her eyes widened at his words, her pupils dilated and her head tilted back in surrender, just a bit. It was enough, he took her lips again, his mouth hard and tender at the same time. He sucked her soft lips biting them like a ripe peach, enticing her tongue, taking it into his mouth to lavish it with affection, pleasure rose within her and she couldn’t stop the moan that came from her chest.

  It was like that was what he had been waiting for and immediately broke the kiss off. “Let’s go back. It’s wet out here and I’m hungry.” And horny - hornier, he thought getting up.

  He looked down at her, “Come on Francine.” She didn’t move. “Unless you like it at my feet.” She looked up at him, his face was blocked by the lowering sun behind him. “You do look pretty there.” This reminder of who he was, what he was got her up fast enough and walking.

  “Uh, Francine?”

  “What?” She asked belligerently.

  “Cabin’s that way.” He said pointing in the other direction.

  Oh! Right. She thought, crossing back in front of him. As she passed him he swatted her - hard.

  “Ow!” She said, feeling it even though the jeans turning to look back at him, her palms rubbing away the pain. The look on his face was very serious. “Submissive or no submissive you will answer respectfully, or I’ll turn you over my knee and really make it burn.

  Seeing the look on his face she realized he’d do it, he really would. She swallowed nervously again, the image in her mind, over his knee, him swatting her, disciplining her. She felt more of the shameful heat pool in her panties now and looked down at the ground.

  Pushing it just a little further he hardened his voice. “I think the words you’re looking for are “I’m sorry Sir.”

  They were both still, but slowly she peeked up at him, his face grave as he waited patiently for her compliance. “I’m sorry Sir.” She felt herself say. Then added, “I’m hungry too.”

  His face softened. “I know angel, I know.” He put one hand out in an “after you” motion and she turned starting the walk back. Somehow he refrained from jumping up and down like a two year old as he fell into step beside her as directing them both back.

  Before long they passed the spot where she was pretty sure she had left his truck, she was shocked at how she had really not gotten far at all on her second sojourn from the cabin. Getting closer she realized he’d had had time to come and get his truck, stow it safely back where it had originally been parked and still find her. Even it seemed to mock her, You might as well give up Sister, we ‘aint goin’ nowhere, it said. Shut up! She heard herself mentally respond. Stupid truck. Oh yeah, it was finally happening. She was losing it. Conversing with his truck was definitely not a good sign. Catching her disbelieving look he said, “Thats right Francine, I've retrieved all of my property today.

  “I'm not yours.” She retorted, stomping extra hard up the cabin’s stairs. He just followed silently. He couldn't help but smile again as she disappeared to the bedroom.

  “You will be.” He added to the empty foyer.

  Chapter 6

  Francine existed in a world with no worries or responsibilities. For the next day or so she finally fully submitted, to sleep. Her capture, the runs through the forest, being recaptured, it had all become too much for her, exhaustion finally overwhelmed her. The collar, K, the cabin, it all receded into the background and she retreated to a place inside of where none of it could reach. It was a place where only the truly wary are given admittance after days of an extended diet of adrenaline, stress and disappointment.

  She awoke in the morning but didn’t feel rested, tears were wet on her face. She’d been dreaming - a lot. Murky images from a cesspool of bitter unconsciousness. She wiped the salty tears away in silence unable to remember her dream, the cabin quiet around her.

  She padded to the kitchen, K was there on a laptop she had not seen before. He didn't say anything to her. He looked up and saw her expression and a look of worry passed over his face. The look confused her. What did he have to be concerned about? There was no collar around his neck. She fingered it thoughtfully, another pesky tear welling up. He’d left enough room for her to slide a finger under it. “Francine.” He was right next to her. She looked at him, and then down at the table in front of her. It was a sandwich. The bread was soft, the meat firm. She chewed silently, looking out the window past the silly corn pattern. They were marching, all in a row. Who’d picked it out? It seemed like an odd choice - for a slaver.

  A giggle welled up within her and at the sound he turned and looked at her. She silenced herself immediately looking back. It was important to remain quiet, so important. If she was quiet she could disappear, then, this would all be over. She returned to looking out the window. Tired. Why was she so tired?

  A nearby clock continued it’s regimented vigil, marking the seconds, tick tick. Daylight’s wastin’. No, that wasn’t important anymore was it? Daylight had come and gone and she was still here wasn’t she? Oh well, what could you do? It seemed like something she’d worried about at one point, but not now. Now she wouldn't worry about any of it anymore. She’d sit quietly and eventually all of her worries would disappear.

  That was good news, but for some reason the silly tears started again, this time he pretended like he didn't see them. She used her napkin to wipe them away, the sandwich was gone and she emitted a
n embarrassing yawn. Where had the sandwich gone to? For a minute it was there and now it wasn’t. Oh well, she looked back out the window, she didn’t feel like eating anyway. Invisible girls had no need to eat.

  Where was her plate? She looked up at him with confused hazel eyes. “Go to bed Francine.” Yes, bed. That sounded good. She was tired. So tired. She had never been so tired. She got up and slowly walked back to bed, pulling the covers over her. Her eyes closed as she went back to sleep wrapped in the cocoon of the soft bed clothes and her own thoughts. Sleep was a welcome friend.

  Chapter 7

  Francine woke and placed her feet on the wooden floor. She felt so rested. More rested than she could remember feeling in a really long time. Like she had come out of a coma. She stretched her hands above her head and padded into the shower.

  She polished off breakfast with K in the kitchen and while he disappeared in the seconded back bedroom she began to leisurely load the dishes into the old style dish washer. Then she saw it again. Something that had been catching her eye before, but that she had not processed before, due to stress or mental fatigue, whatever. The bare limbs of the trees swayed slightly in the sparse wind, there it was, catching her eye again, a flash of color in all that white and brown. She felt a spark of excitement run through her, her eyes growing big, yes, it definitely was! How had she missed it before! Impulsively only pausing momentarily to grab a couple things from the kitchen, she was out the back door and down the porch in order to get a closer look.

  Unbelievably K heard the back door open and close again, could she really be running again? He crossed the cabin and looked out, she was on the back porch palming what looked to be a handful of weeds. A mixture of ecstasy and surprise on her face. This was completely unexpected. What was she up to now? Seeing him she came back up the backstairs using some Latin term for the green roots she was waving around, like a sorceress getting ready to cast a spell.

  “It’s what?” They were both on the back porch of the cabin now, and Francine more carefully held up the tender green plant cradling the tender roots in her palm holding it up in front of him. For the first time since she had been here K noticed her eyes held genuine excitement. She was even successfully ignoring the cold in her exuberance. She repeated the fancy technical term for the plant.

  “It’s all around here K, flourishing in this harsh climate! Can you believe it? Fascinating!”

  K could think of several things that were more fascinating... like watching paint dry. But the look that lit up her pretty hazel eyes, the joy, he’d never seen anything like it since she’d been taken. That he realized he’d give anything to see more of... that was fascinating. “K, I have a PhD from GW in Biology and wrote my thesis on Herbalism!” she said thinking he doubted her expertise. “This is definitely *&$%”. Oops he missed that, must have gone to sleep for a minute.

  Now K was a smart guy, himself having an MBA from an Ivy League school, but he thought it best in this case to smile in agreement and nod before she used terminology again he had no hope of ever getting. He realized how much it thrilled him just to see her happy, the mad scientist at her best. “I bet there’s more around here too...” She said wandering back to the edge of the porch and going back on her toes to peer over into the forest.

  “Francine, I know you’re excited, but the whole idea of me dressing you this way was to discourage you from leaving the cabin.” he said trying to keep his chiseled visage stern.

  “Yes, K, but this if for science, don’t you understand how important these plants are?” She said in a voice that made it clear that in this case an exception simply must be made. ”The fact that they’re thriving like this in this untouched wilderness? They should be studied and the results charted.” She wandered to the edge of the little porch again looking over and giving him a nice look at her ripe derriere in the shorts. “Oooo! There’s more over there, along with some Helleborus Niger, Ah, sorry, Christmas Rose to the layman, see K!”, she pointed excitedly, K did his best to pretend to be interested, “Right over there!.” She said.

  “Ah ha. That’s sum-thin’.” He said, seeing her effervescent enthusiasm he sighed feeling himself giving in. He may not have seen any Hell-whatever it was, but he did however notice some scratches on his Francine’s shapely unmarked lower legs from this pesky, persistent, pursuit of plants. Not enough to bleed, but of course any scratching of that firm, delicate flesh was unacceptable. She was probably too excited to notice the slight injuries, but he'd take care of it later, for now...

  “Hold on, hold on. Stay here for a moment.” She was bouncing up and down, antsy in her excitement but responded to the firm note in his voice, the warning on his face. He disappeared into the cabin, the screen door swinging behind him. Francine held her hand up over her eyes as a shield until his return a few moments later. She broke out with a grin when she saw him return with a pair of thick socks and the silver lined, calf boots perfect for trudging through the forest. Before she could stop herself she was squealing with excitement - then she remembered, the last time she wore them.

  K saw the look cross her suddenly concerned face, “It’s OK Francine, no tricks this time.” He held up his hands in a freeze position, “go ahead. As long as I’m here I guess you can go within shouting distance of the cabin, but no jacket, I don’t want you out here longer than a few minutes at a time, and again, don’t go far - deal?”

  “Okay.” She nodded a pensive look on her face, then unable to hold it in her face lit up again with delight, she grabbed the boots and socks before she stopped on the step to pull on each before tearing down the the steps into the snow like a little girl to forage in the bare brush and sparse greenery.

  “Look out for poison ivy!” He yelled.

  “PhD!” She yelled back, skipping through the deadened marsh to find her hidden treasure.

  As he turned and froze as he the realization hit him, was that one of his cooking spoons she was digging up that stuff with?

  Chapter 8

  In spite of the loss of a few of his tools dinner is delicious, as usual. Salmon over asparagus with a side of mashed potatoes. The mashed potato's were so creamy. What did he put in them? The salmon had a crispy skin. How’d he manage these things? She looked across the table at him. “I wanted to say thank you, for today.”

  “No problem Francine.” He replied. “So, you’re feeling better?”

  She wanted to ask him what he meant and then she realized, her extended nap. “I guess.” She said. She was still nervous around him, still wanted to go home, wherever home was. She had actually been in the process of moving when she’d been taken. She hadn’t found a new place yet, but still. With the way they had talked earlier, her excitement over the plants, for a time she had, not forgotten exactly. Just for a moment it had just seemed less real. That long sleep she had - it was like the kind you have in story books where you move from one chapter of your life to another.

  That’s how she felt now, like she’d turned a page. She realized that she didn’t want to spend her time here or anywhere else in a daze. She’d had so many plans for the future, still did. She didn’t want to waste any time by “blinking out” again. For now she was stuck here with him, maybe it was time to accept that. She realized that she wouldn’t run again - at least for now, as a Bio major she knew a little more than most how unpleasant freezing to death could be, it was not a fate she was ready to accept.

  She flashed back to when the slavers had put something in her arm when they were preparing her so she wouldn't get pregnant. She hated the collar, worried about being here with him, but things could be worse, so much worse. She rubbed the spot over her upper arm with one hand while she reached for her wine glass taking the last sip.

  He didn’t have to be so nice to her, he could have raped her many times over by now and had not. He was an enigma, a puzzle she just couldn’t figure out. “Is your arm okay?” He asked.

  She dropped her hand and looked up. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She didn’t want
to discuss it, or be in any way grateful for being here, even though she was starting to realize she might have dodged a bullet. She got up and cleared the table shocked to realize there was an actual dishwasher. Without preamble quietly rinsed the dishes and began loading it up. The machine was old, but functional. It started with a whirring noise, the rank smell of bleach and soap beginning to fill the room.

  When she turned around K was in front of the TV loading a DVD into the machine. There was a sofa in front of the TV and a huge easy chair. He was on the sofa, she took the chair, only problem was she couldn’t see the TV, and the movie was one that she’d missed. She’d missed a lot of movies while in school. She got up and tried to move the easy chair, but it weighed a ton and was entrenched on the old carpet. She looked over at him, a plea in her eyes, but apparently he was all out of favors for the day.

  “Nope.” He confirmed. She could go to the bedroom, but even though she was doing better, she couldn’t help but feel like her demons would inch back from behind their walls to keep her company with no radio, or books to read. Reminding herself again that he’d had more than one chance at her already she flounced over reluctantly plopping herself down next to him crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back uncomfortable against the couch.

  The movie started, “The Departed”. It was an action flick - go figure, but was really engrossing. There was a beautiful looking homemade quilt draped over the back of the sofa. She pulled it down dislodging K in the process. He didn’t protest, simply allowed her to drape it over herself. By the end of the movie she’d forgotten everything around her and was completely focused on the screen. “Wow.” She said, not wanting to talk to him, but there was no one else.

  “Yeah.” Said K.

  “What a shame.” She said. “I mean, he knew there were risks in going undercover, but... How unbelievably sad.”