The Submission Factory

by Susanna Hughes

  'Hello,' she said.

  'You're Barbara Harrison. I've been watching you.'

  'Have you? Why's that?'

  'I've seen your pictures in the papers,' he said.

  'Since my picture is only ever in the financial press standing beside my husband you must be some sort of investment consultant.'

  'No. But I like to know what's going on. My name's Jack, by the way. Jack Harkness.'

  'Pleased to meet you Jack.'

  A waiter passed with a tray of champagne and Jack stopped him.

  'Your glass is empty. And don't say you're driving. You've got a chauffeur-driven Rolls outside.' He took two of the tall flutes, handing her one. 'Do you fancy going for a little walk? It's a lovely evening isn't it?'

  'All right.'

  She wasn't at all sure why - perhaps it was the feeling that her husband was neglecting her - but she let him take her arm and led her to a path through a long avenue of shrubs. The noise of the music gradually receded.

  'I love that dress.'

  Barbara was wearing a startling black sleeveless gown with a high neckline. But the front of the dress was slashed from neck to waist, the opening highlighted with silver thread, and revealed a great deal of her pliant and unencumbered breasts. She had always been proud of her breasts. They were full and firm and did not need the help of a bra. The man's eyes were examining every available inch of them.

  'You seem to know a lot about me.'

  'I know you are the most attractive woman at this party. Oh yes, you asked me why I've been watching you. Well that's the reason.'

  'I'm married.'

  'Does that mean you are not interested in a little adventure?'

  'Are you trying to seduce me?'

  'I'm trying to tell you that I know what you need.'

  'Listen, I'm flattered but I've never cheated on my husband.'

  The path led away from the house down to a block of garages and workshops. A little further on was a stable and a stable yard lit by tall wrought-iron lamps. He stopped by a slender tree. One of the shafts of light fell across his face and Barbara could not help thinking there was a sort of raw power about the man which she found terribly attractive.

  'You've never had really mind-blowing sex with him either, have you?'

  'That's none of your business,' she said. She had meant it to come out angrily but it didn't. The truth was what he said had touched a nerve. Sex had always been a problem in her marriage. Her husband preferred business adventures to sexual ones. She faked orgasms when he made love to her but her only real sexual pleasure came from a realistically moulded vibrator on full power, when she was alone.

  'But I know why.'

  'Why?' she asked.

  'Because he doesn't give you want you need. And I can.'

  'Oh, can you?' That didn't come out right either. She intended it to sound sceptical and mocking. But it came out as more of a question.

  'Believe me. I have a special talent. I know exactly what a woman needs even when sometimes she doesn't know it herself.'

  He had won the first round. She was intrigued. 'And what do I need?'

  'Give me your hands.' He said it in quite a different tone of voice, sharp and so dominant it took her by surprise and she meekly held out her hands. He pulled them up over her head and towards a branch of the tree. She heard something click and felt a cold loop around her wrists, and when he let go she found her arms were stretched above her and she had to stand on tiptoe. To her amazement the position gave her a surge of sexual excitement quite unlike anything she had felt before.

  'Got you,' he said.

  'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Looking up she caught the glint of light on the handcuffs around her wrists.

  He wrapped his arms around her, her breasts pressing against his chest. She could smell his musky aftershave.

  'Tell me you want to be free and I'll let you go,' he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

  'I...' Barbara was just about to tell him to do just that when she hesitated. The sexual excitement took her breath away.

  Jack smiled. 'You see.'

  He kissed her neck and her ear with delicate pecks and squirmed his belly against hers. She felt his erection beginning to grow. His hands were inching up the tight skirt of her dress until it was gathered around her waist.

  'Let me go,' she said, but with no conviction.

  'This is what you want, Barbara. I told you I have a talent for knowing.'

  A hand was cupping her firm buttocks. She felt him grasp the silk of her panties and begin to pull them down over the tops of her sheer hold-up stockings.

  'No,' she said.

  'Tell me you mean that and I'll cut you loose,' he whispered. 'Come on, all you have to do is say it.'

  She opened her mouth, but once again no words came out. The truth was her excitement was only increasing. She could feel her clitoris convulsing and her juices seeping. Almost without thinking she strained against the handcuffs, not because she wanted to escape but because the feeling of being tied and helpless excited her so much. Jack had discovered her innermost secret; the sexual river that had always run deep in her psyche. She had always fantasised about being submissive. It was not a rape fantasy but something else, something quite different. What she wanted was to be a slave, totally and absolutely committed to obey. It was a fantasy she'd often used on lonely nights when her husband worked late and she used her vibrator and a bottle of massage oil for sexual fulfilment, the word 'master' on her lips as she trembled to a climax.

  'This is what you want,' Jack whispered.

  He had pulled her panties from around her ankles and bunched them into a ball. He stuffed them into her mouth.

  'Don't want the whole party to hear,' he said.

  He grabbed her by the waist with one arm and smacked her left buttock. Before she could even register the pain in one cheek he began on the other, spanking her fast but hard, alternating from one buttock to the other so the whole of her backside burned. She squealed, but only a muffled moan escaped the gag.

  She soon realised what she was feeling in her buttocks was not only pain. The most extraordinary thing was happening to her. The spanking generated heat and the heat turned inward, travelling directly to her sex and creating sensations she had never felt before. As each new stroke landed that feeling became more intense and more recognisably sexual. She had stopped squealing and was now moaning in undisguised delight. She was so turned on she thought she might come.

  The spanking stopped. Jack knelt in front of her. He parted her thighs and draped them over his shoulders. She felt his tongue slide into her sex. Her pubic hair was already wet. With unerring accuracy he found her clit and wriggled his tongue against it. At the same time his hand moved down over her heated buttocks, deliberately caressing them to produce new shards of that delicious melange of pain and pleasure. She gasped again, unable to stop trembling.

  His hand slipped between her legs and she felt his fingers at the mouth of her vagina. However much she would like to pretend to him that she was not enjoying the experience her body betrayed her. As his tongue continued to play at her clit he slid two then three fingers into her vagina. It was enough. She went rigid. Her clitoris spasmed against his mouth and she came, only just managing not to scream. She could never remember coming so intensely.

  But he was not finished with her. Standing up he pulled his trousers and pants to his knees revealing a hard, handsome cock.

  He pulled the panties out of her mouth then kissed her, his tongue plunging between her lips just as forcefully as his fingers had done in her sex. Barbara melted as his erection butted against her stomach. Despite the fact she had just had an orgasm she didn't think she had ever wanted a man more.

  'Say it,' he said.

  'Say what?'

  'Tell me what you want.'

  'You know.'

  'Tell me,' he insisted.

  'Fuck me,' she moaned against his lips.

  'Again.'
/>   'Fuck me, you evil bastard.'

  He pulled away. For a moment she saw a fleeting smile on his lips; a smug, victorious smile. Then he slid his hands under her thighs and lifted her bodily, pulling her legs around his waist. Her weight was supported on the cuffs, the metal biting into her flesh, but she felt nothing but excitement as his cock nudged between her thighs.

  'Perhaps I should get back to the party,' he said teasingly, holding his cock at the entrance to her vagina.

  'No, no,' she cried in alarm.

  'If you want it you're going to have to beg for it,' he said.

  'Please, please, fuck me.'

  For a moment he did nothing. The heat from his cock spread upward into her sex. Her clitoris seemed to be on fire. She tried to move down to trap his cock but the position, hanging from the branch of the tree, made it impossible for her to do anything but hope the obvious heat and wetness of her sex would draw him in. She knew he was showing her that she was completely in his power, and that excited her too.

  'This is what you want, isn't it?'

  At that moment he thrust up into her, his cock lunging all the way up until his glans was lodged at the neck of her womb. In reaction her sex contracted around him as tightly as a fist. She seemed to be able to feel every throbbing vein of his cock, every inch of it. It filled her completely. Her sex relaxed momentarily then contracted again and her clitoris seemed to explode, throwing her into an orgasm as deep and intense as the one before. She had never come so quickly in her life.

  He hadn't finished with her. Not giving her any chance to come down from the highs he began to thrust into her, strong thrusts as his hands grasped her thighs. Just as she felt herself coming down from one orgasm this produced another. She moaned and came again, each thrust taking her to new heights.

  Eventually he stopped. She felt him leaving her body and saw his erection glistening with her juices in the light from the stables.

  'What do you want?' she managed to pant.

  As if to answer he reached up and freed her hands from the handcuffs then pressed on her shoulders, wanting her to kneel. As she sunk to her knees his cock was inches from her mouth.

  'Suck it,' he ordered. She obeyed at once, gripping his shaft in one hand and sucking as hard as she could. She tasted her own juices. She wanted desperately to feel it pushing into her throat but that was not what he had in mind. She felt his glans throb and knew he was going to come. She wanted his spunk in her mouth, but instead, as his cock jerked wildly he pulled out and ejaculated over her lips and face and into her dishevelled hair.

  As the viscous liquid slid over her face she used her tongue to gather up what she could, licking and swallowing as if it were some special nectar.

  'I told you I had a special talent,' he said, his lips parting in a smile.

  Chapter Two

  The most annoying thing was not being able to wipe my mouth after I had eaten. I didn't want to foul the water by using it to wash in because I might want to drink it later, so I crawled back to the bed and managed to wipe my lips on the mattress. After my experiences with Jack I knew why being bound so tightly in this anonymous room and being humiliated by being fed like a dog turned me on so much.

  The door opened again. The two rubber-clad women strode into the room.

  'On the floor,' the taller of the two said.

  I did not understand. I was already on my knees.

  'When a mistress enters the room it is necessary that you prostrate yourself on the floor on your belly,' she said in a tone that suggested she was speaking to a wayward child.

  Those words opened another door in my memory. The brunette had said that to me. I could see her beautiful lips moving as she'd pronounced the words. I looked down at the leather straps sealing my arms to my sides and tried to work out how I could manage to lower myself to the floor without doing myself an injury.

  The taller of the two strode over to me. She had a strip of leather in her hand. Its end was split into three tails. She raised her arm and I watched helplessly as the strap sliced across my breasts. They exploded with pain and I yelped.

  'You will always do as you're told immediately,' she said. Her attitude was stern and severe, completely different from the last time she had come into the room.

  There was only one way to accomplish what she wanted, so I braced myself and toppled sideways, then rolled onto my stomach.

  'This is called position number one. You are required to remember that,' the shorter woman said.

  The taller one stood in front of my face. 'Lick my shoes, both of them.'

  I raised my head and licked. It was odd that despite everything I had a strong desire to obey whatever I was told to do. What was even stranger was that humiliating myself in this way gave me a distinct jolt of excitement. As I licked I felt the buckles on the leather straps around my body being freed.

  'Stand up.'

  After having been trapped for so long my arms felt as if they were made from rubber, but I managed to struggle to my feet. Even if I had wanted to try and escape my muscles were so atrophied they would have no trouble in overpowering me.

  'You will address me as Madam Celine.' The taller one said. 'This is Madam Angel.'

  'Who am I?' I thought I should at least try to maintain the illusion that I knew nothing.

  'No questions.' The leather tawse snaked out and caught my breast again. There was the same stinging pain followed by a pulse of hot pleasure. I couldn't work out whether the pain was worth the pleasure that followed.

  Angel had gone back out. She returned with an armful of chains and leather straps. She dropped them on the bed. Both picked up a leather cuff which they buckled around my wrists. The cuffs had a steel D-ring set into them. They applied two more sets to my arms just above my elbow, and to my ankles.

  I wanted to ask what they were going to do with me, but I did not want another taste of the tawse. They stood on the chair to attach chains to hooks set in the ceiling, then used spring-loaded clips to attach the D-rings on the wrist cuffs to them so I was standing in the middle of the room with both arms up and out above my head. They pulled my legs apart and attached the ankle cuffs to either end of a metal bar, forcing my legs apart so I was spread-eagled.

  I was deeply excited by this bondage. I was unable to do anything to stop whatever they wanted to do to me, to the most intimate parts of me, but that only made my pulse race. Since I'd met Jack it always had.

  Celine stood in front of me, her face inches from mine. Her eyes were hard and cruel. She cupped my left breast, caressing it gently, then let her hand slide down to my tummy. I was deeply ashamed that she would find clear evidence of my excitement, but there was nothing I could do to stop her. Slowly her fingers worked their way into my sex.

  'She's soaking wet,' she reported to her colleague.

  'They always are,' Angel said. She came over and I saw an aerosol can in her hand. She knelt down beside me and began spraying between my legs. I looked down and was able to see a thick white mousse, rather like whipped cream, covering my pubic hair. Though it was cold it was not an unpleasant sensation. Not immediately at least. After two or three minutes I felt an itching that was soon replaced by a feeling of being burnt. I struggled against my bondage, trying to free my hands so I could wipe it away. The heat increased. The tender flesh of my labia was on fire.

  I saw the women smiling at my discomfort.

  'Please...' I begged, tearing my limbs against the cuffs.

  'Five minutes and we wipe it away,' Madam Celine said. 'Have to do a proper job.'

  The heat seemed to be spreading, not out across my thighs but inward as if the mousse had invaded my vagina. It was changing too, into a different type of heat; sexual heat. My clitoris began to throb and I felt my juices run. Instead of pulling against my bondage I began squirming in it, trying to bring my thighs together to put pressure on my clit. It was useless. My legs were bound too far apart.

  'It always has that effect,' Madam Angel said. I saw her t
ake a towel and she began to wipe the mousse away. When she rubbed it against my clit I thought I was going to come. The mousse had removed my hair.

  Madam Celine examined my labia closely. 'No, she doesn't need another go. There wasn't much more than bum-fluff there anyway. Why don't we give her a little treat?'

  Angel smiled. She knelt on the floor then pushed her mouth against my sex. Her tongue parted my labia, searching for my clit. I moaned as the tip touched the little button of nerves. The heat of the depilation cream had left me hungry for sex.

  But exactly as before the rush of pleasure was followed by an equal and equivalent wave of pain. A thin line of heat burned across my buttocks and I yelped. I squirmed my head around to see Madam Celine standing behind me with a thin cane in her hand.

  Madam Angel's tongue prodded at my clit. The heat from my buttocks felt like a thousand needles had been pressed into my flesh and I tried to ease the pain by wriggling my hips from side to side. This also had the effect of smearing my clitoris against Madam Angel's tongue, producing a delicious sensation. The pain in my buttocks turned inwards, the heated blood coursing into my sex.

  'That feels so good, doesn't it?' Celine said.

  'No, no, not again.' I begged even though I was deliberately pushing my sex against Madam Angel's tongue. I felt a wave of wet pleasure engulf me as my clit reacted to the provocation.

  'Pleasure and pain,' Celine said. She raised her arm and whipped the cane down onto my buttocks. Again I felt the burning line explode across my arse, pain that made me scream. She stroked it down three times in quick succession until my bum felt as if it were on fire and I was pulling desperately against my bondage to find some way to escape. This again had the effect of wriggling my sex against Madam Angel's mouth my labia pressed against her lips. As the pain receded I felt her slide the tip of her tongue against my clit again, but this time her fingers probed then thrust up into my sex.

  The pain in my buttocks again seemed to be turning into another different sensation. There was no doubt in my mind that it was intensifying the pleasure. I was totally confused, not because my body responded to this sort of treatment but that, once again, I found it hard to understand why I was prone to a masochism so deeply embedded that it could bring me with such rapidity, as if had with Jack, to the point of orgasm. Desperately I squirmed against Angel's mouth and tried to press myself down on her fingers.