The Submission Factory

by Susanna Hughes

  'What are you going to do to me?' she asked.

  He stood between her legs, his erection tenting his trousers.

  'Whatever I want.'

  He leant down and kissed her, but as she pushed her tongue out he pulled back.

  'Whatever I want,' he repeated.

  A hand caressed her throat and then slid down to her breasts, moving across the upper slopes. He took her right nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinched, making her moan. He stroked it slowly then worked his way down across the satin of her waspie to her tummy. A finger slid between her labia. She was soaking wet. She saw a smug smile on his face. He knew what he did to her.

  His finger found her clit. She gasped.

  'Very needy,' he said, then took his finger away.

  He pulled his clothes off and dropped them on the bed. She stared at his cock, a drop of liquid forming at the eye of the circumcised glans.

  'Fuck me,' she said, pleading with her eyes.

  'That's not exactly what I had in mind,' he replied. He bent his knees and pushed forward until the tip of his cock was parting her labia. It butted up against her clit and she gasped. She tried to strain herself onto it but her bondage allowed minimal movement.

  He pulled away, smiling. He turned his back, then moved behind the chair with a leather blindfold in his hand.

  'This helps to concentrate the senses,' he said, slipping it over her eyes.

  'Please just fuck me,' she said.

  'And a gag too.'

  'No.'

  'Oh yes, a nice penis-shaped gag so your mouth is full of cock.'

  He produced a pad, attached to which was a rubber cock. 'Open wide.'

  He pushed the dildo into her mouth and strapped it tightly in place. It reached to the back of her throat and was uncomfortable. She was dependent on her hearing to guess what he was going to do next.

  There was a swish of air and a sting erupted across her breasts. She gasped into the gag. She tensed. A scorching line exploded across her breasts again, this time hitting her nipple as well.

  He alternated the strokes. The pain was intense. Her breasts were on fire, but as the last stroke bit she knew she was going to come. She knew he was watching her, and that was enough to tip her over the edge and plunge her into a full on climax, her screams of pleasure muffled on the rubber penis that filled her mouth.

  As she recovered her senses she thought she could feel the heat of his cock near her sex. His fingers were playing with her tortured nipples. She felt his breath on her breasts and then his mouth took over; biting, sucking, licking. Her nipples throbbed with pleasure and with pain as Jack alternated between biting and sucking. Waves of pleasure were mounting again.

  She put her head back and screamed, the sound muffled by the penis gag, and before the waves of bliss had begun to die down his cock was plunging deep into her vagina. There was no resistance. Her sex was open and wet. He thrust deep. The position of the chair and the way she was tied to it meant his penetration was profound. Her sex clenched around him. His thrusts were so powerful they pulled her legs and arms against the bonds that held her, their rhythmic creaking intensifying her excitement.

  Jack had stamina. It seemed to go on and on. But eventually, as her cunt clenched around the pistoning rod of flesh that impaled her, she knew he was going to come too. She wished she could hold him and hug him tight, but she couldn't, so she concentrated on using her sex to milk him, and was rewarded with a violent spasm, followed by another. She heard him grunt and then felt a hot, silky wetness flooding her.

  'You see,' he panted in her ear, 'I'll always give you what you want.'

  Chapter Five

  I woke up when the light came on. I was feeling warm and contented. Though there was no natural light in the room and I hadn't the faintest idea what time it was I instinctively felt it was morning and that I'd had a good night's sleep, despite the bonds that anchored my wrists and ankles to the metal frame of the bed.

  For a moment I realised I couldn't remember my name. The word Nat kept going over and over in my head. Nat. Nat. Natalie. Was that my name? I concentrated. My memory seemed to have gone. I could remember everything that happened yesterday up until the time I'd been taken into Madam M's office. Then there was another blank. I knew that was a problem but I couldn't remember why. What was happening to me?

  Suddenly another name floated into my head. Barbara. Yes, Barbara. I was Barbara. The name brought everything flooding back; my husband, my affair, all the things that had happened. I also remembered being taken into Madam M's office and recognising her as the mysterious and beautiful brunette who seemed to have dominated my thoughts since I'd arrived in these strange premises. But what I couldn't remember was how I'd come to be lying chained to the bed. How I'd got from Madam M's office to the cell was a complete blank. And the most worrying thing of all was that I'd had trouble remembering who I was and my past. The treatment Madam Celine had mentioned was clearly intended to wipe my memory and had not succeeded. I'd assumed that treatment was over but it was obvious that whatever they were doing was continuing. I'd read about sleep therapies and wondered if they had done something to me while I slept. I knew one thing for sure; I mustn't go under. It had taken me some time to reinstate my memory this morning, and if the treatments continued that would only get worse. I must find a way to resist whatever they were doing.

  My body was not as severely restrained as it had been yesterday morning. I looked down my naked body. My nipples looked as tender as they felt, linked by the chain between the gold rings that pierced them.

  I lay back and stared at the ceiling. Clearly my husband had arranged for me to be brought here to undergo some sort of behavioural therapy, to make me an obedient and submissive wife.

  The door opened.

  'Good morning.'

  I recognised her voice but not her face. I had never seen Madam Celine's features until now because they'd been covered in the rubber helmet. She was beautiful. She had large eyes and a seductive mouth, and her long blonde hair was worn in a ponytail. She wore a red leather halter-top which barely contained her breasts, and a matching miniskirt. Her long legs were sheathed in glossy black nylon and she wore red high-heeled shoes.

  She operated a switch by the door. I heard a grinding of electric motors coming from behind me.

  Madam Celine leant over me and unbuckled my wrists from the cuffs. Whether deliberately or not she pushed her breasts into my face in the process. She turned around and released my ankles too, giving me a good view of her toned buttocks and the crotch of her black satin panties. I could see the tops of her stockings. I felt my clit throb. Whatever else Jack had done to me, he had certainly liberated my attraction to women.

  'Did I give you permission to look up my skirt?' she quizzed.

  'No.'

  'No, Madam Celine, you idiot.'

  She slapped my breast and I yelped.

  'Get up,' she ordered.

  After lying in bondage for so long this was not an easy feat to accomplish. For the first time in my new existence both my arms and legs were free, but they had been confined for so long they were unwilling to cooperate with the directions I gave them.

  Madam Celine took hold of my arm and turned me around. I saw that a panel had opened in the wall behind the bed and inside it was a white-tiled cubicle. She thrust me inside. Immediately the panel slid closed again.

  There was a small toilet bowl in one corner. My need was urgent and I used it immediately. The bowl flushed the moment I stood up again. Almost before I had finished a jet of soapy water shot out from nozzles buried in the wall. After a moment or two the water shut off and I was left covered in suds. I scrubbed my body as best I could, carefully avoiding my nipples and the chain attached to them. I washed away the name under my breasts. A second flood of water spurted from the nozzles, washing away the soap. Then hot air blew from the ceiling, drying my body and hair completely.

  There was no mirror. Once again I had no opportunity to see m
yself. I was pretty sure this was intentional. If I'd really had my memory wiped clean, not being able to see myself was a means of ensuring I didn't get a reminder of who I had been before.

  The blast of air stopped and the panel slid open again.

  'Get out here,' Madam Celine ordered.

  I stumbled back into what I had come to think of as my cell. She was standing by the bed where she had placed a curious leather garment. It was a leather corset with shoulder straps, laced at the front but with two tubes of stiff leather, each with a zip running almost in parallel down the back.

  'Stand still.'

  Madam Celine unclipped the chain that joined my nipple rings together then picked up the garment and wrapped it around my body. The laces were drawn tight, squeezing my waist.

  'Your arms are surplus to requirements,' she said as she pulled my left arm behind my back and fitted it into one of the leather tubes. I heard the zip being pulled up, imprisoning my arm tight against my back. The right one followed, forcing my shoulders back and thrusting my breasts out.

  The corset had two holes that revealed my nipples. Madam Celine took hold of the nipple rings and clipped the chain back in place. I gasped, my nipples still sore.

  'Now eat,' she said.

  Two bowls had been placed on the floor by the door. I was incredibly hungry. I got to my knees and crawled over to them. I ate hungrily, trying to ignore the humiliation of what I was doing. I drank some of the water.

  'Over here,' Madam Celine said. 'Watching a girl behaving like a dog has always turned me on.'

  She was sitting on the bed with her skirt up around her hips. She had pushed the crotch of her panties aside and was fingering her hairless sex, one hand holding her labia open while a finger of the other circled her clit.

  'That's all you are, isn't it, Nat M? A bitch.'

  'Yes, Madam Celine.' I don't know why but her voice and the words she said thrilled me to the core.

  'Come here and serve your mistress, bitch,' she said.

  I crawled over to the bed. She hooked a leg over my shoulder and around my back, digging her heel into the leather and forcing my mouth to her sex. I pushed out my tongue, found the little nut of her clit and licked it.

  'Harder.' She reinforced her message by kicking her heel into my back.

  I pressed her clit and rubbed by tongue against it. I heard her moan and felt her tremble.

  'Yes, like that.'

  She moaned again and I felt her thighs tighten around my head. She hooked her ankles together and locked her fingers into my hair, pulling my mouth even harder onto her sex. She sighed and I felt juices coating my chin.

  For a moment she did nothing, holding me tightly between her thighs and making it hard for me to breathe. My clit and my nipples throbbed in unison. I could smell and taste her juices on my lips. I imagined how it would feel to have her mouth on my sex at the same time, but I knew my orgasm was not on her agenda.

  Madam Celine unwound her legs, positioned a foot on my shoulder and pushed. I toppled back onto the floor. With a cruel smile she knelt down, took hold of my ankles and pulled my legs apart, leaning forward until her face was only inches from my sex. She took the nipple chain and lifted so my nipples were stretched up through the holes in the leather corset. The pain was intense but so was the pleasure that came with it. I felt a finger probe between my legs and touch my clit.

  'You're soaking wet, you little lesbian bitch. Wouldn't you just love me to lick that pussy of yours?'

  'Oh yes, Madam Celine.' I could feel the heat of her breath against my labia. She lowered herself until her lips were touching the yielding lips at the entrance of my vagina. I could not help but moan. I dared to believe she was going to push right down on me and bury her face in my sex.

  'Well I'm not going to,' she said, getting to her feet. 'Get up.'

  In my tight bondage this was not a simple operation. Without my arms to help me I could not lever myself to my feet and she knew it. She stood over me and watched as I wriggled and writhed to try and get to my knees. It was impossible. Finally she relented and took me by the shoulders to pull me up.

  A pair of high heels was placed on the floor and I was made to put them on. Madam Celine buckled the ankle straps. She picked up the leather helmet I had worn before and laced it tightly around my head, but this time did not add a blindfold.

  'Open your legs,' she said with a cruel smile.

  She took a thin chain. It had two spring-loaded clips at each end, one slightly bigger than the other. She hooked the smaller to the middle of the chain between my nipples, then held the other clip open. Pinching my labia together around my clit she allowed the other clip to sink into my tender flesh.

  I squealed with pain. My clit was trapped and squeezed.

  'Follow me.' She walked to the door.

  Tentatively I walked forward, the clip making each step a new experience in pain and pleasure. It dragged my nipple rings down, so that my nipples too were hurting.

  I found myself in a narrow corridor with doors on either side along its length, but no windows. At the end a staircase led up to a door, which opened onto a hallway, with a blue carpet and pale blue walls and oil paintings, mostly abstracts, hung at regular intervals.

  Kneeling on the floor was a man wearing a garment similar to mine. His nipples too had been pierced and the rings joined with a chain and, apart from the leather corset, and a helmet like mine, he was naked and busy licking along the skirting board with his tongue. I could see that his buttocks were marked with several crimson stripes, and he flinched as Madam Celine passed by, though she ignored him completely.

  I was led into a reception room furnished with comfortable sofas and armchairs. Not only was there another man in a leather corset with pierced nipples and chain, but there were three women too, also identically dressed to me except that they did not have leather helmets and I could see their faces. And unlike me their nipples were not pierced, though they were wearing nipple clips joined by a chain and a chain ran down to a clip pinching their sex lips.

  I saw Madam Angel in the shiny rubber she had worn on the first day, and there were two other women I'd not seen before, dressed in the same way as her.

  Sitting down chatting amiably to each other were four other people, two men and two women. The women wore elegant cocktail dresses and the men dinner jackets with crisp white shirts and black bowties. All were drinking champagne from crystal flutes. What I had already begun to think of as the 'slaves' were serving these guests. Two of the girls and the man had little trays hooked around their necks and were carrying plates of tiny canapés, carefully circling the room with them. The third female slave knelt with her forehead pressed to the carpet at the side of one of the suited men, her buttocks raised so he could use his fingers to play idly with her sex lips.

  Clearly I had been completely wrong about the time. It was evening, not morning as I'd thought.

  I saw the guests examining me closely as Madam Celine pulled me over to them.

  'She's new,' one of the women said. She raised a hand to my nipple chain, pulling it until my nipples were stretched and the clip on my clit bit even more deeply. I gasped. 'Oh, such a sensitive little thing,' she said in a mocking tone.

  Another door opened and Madam M strode into the room. She looked magnificent. She was wearing a hugging strapless dress of yellow, which clung to her body so tightly it was obvious she was not wearing any underwear, other than almost transparent tights.

  Behind her was a man. He was wearing a white dinner jacket with a black bowtie. It was Tony.

  'Take the clip off,' Madam M ordered.

  Celine moved to obey. She reached between my thighs and opened the clip on my clitoris. I almost collapsed under the shock of pain as the blood rushed back into the tiny knot of nerves. I gasped, as Celine's hand held my shoulder to steady me, and as I'd come to expect the wave of pain was followed by an intense wave of pleasure.

  'First position,' Celine barked, prodding me in the ba
ck.

  I struggled to obey. I didn't want to give any clue that I was not as obedient as they thought I was, so I slipped to my knees and rolled onto my side. I straightened my legs and turned onto my front.

  'I thought you'd like to see her before we have dinner,' Madam M said to my husband. I saw her red satin shoes in front of my face. 'Kiss them,' she said.

  I willingly pressed my lips to the satin. Buried somewhere in my psyche was a very clear desire to obey her commands.

  'Most impressive. And you've achieved this in one day?'

  'Yes. She'll go into proper training tomorrow, as we discussed. Stand up, Natalie.'

  I rolled onto my back, but had to have support from Celine before I could get to my feet. I could smell the familiar scent of Tony's aftershave.

  'And you were right about her. The more she's disciplined the more excited she becomes. It makes her terribly easy to control.'

  'The nipple rings look very sexy.'

  'Yes, and so practical. She can be effectively bound to whatever you choose whenever you choose.'

  'What about the helmet?'

  'We keep it on at all times. She is not allowed to see her face in the mirror for the first two weeks. It reinforces the idea that she is anonymous, without a face or a personality.'

  'How clever. I've never seen her so excited,' he said. He touched my breasts then pinched around the rings. Despite the pain I was determined not to make any sound this time.

  'I don't want you making any reference to the past,' Madame M chided him. 'You understand. Her life began here. That is important.'

  'Yes, sorry.'

  'It's a precaution to make sure the conditioning works.'

  'Anything else I should remember?'