The Big Book of Submission

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  He sees you squirming and looks up. “Do you get it yet?” he asks, with the air of boredom that you always read as a challenge. You fail this time though; you don’t get it, whatever it may be. You blush and lower your eyes and wonder if he’ll let you come tonight.

  He takes you onto the T headed back to Harvard Square, where everyone is silent and resting their chins on their chests. You keep your legs open, just a touch, just enough to let every man in the carriage know that you are a whore who is ready to be fucked at any time, throughout the whole ride. Nobody notices, or if they do, there are no leers from the men or scowls from the dowdy old women in their industrial pantsuits.

  Sir leans in close and commands you: “Watch them sit. Watch them stand.”

  Out of the T and back on the street, you feel a bit more cheery. Sir lets you hold his hand for a bit, and after you ask properly, lets you kiss him on the cheek and on the side of his neck. He’s standing tall, a dom again, his hand sliding up your arm and cupping your breast while a few of the kids sitting in the pit by the T entrance hoot at you. You watch them closely, making eye contact and smiling, encouraging and inviting them, all for Sir. One drops his monkey-like glare for a second, shocked, and you march on proudly, even as the plug in your ass starts to chafe at the skin.

  At the pub, Sir wants a drink and has you pay for it with the notes in your cleavage. He’s leaning back, arms draped over the top edge of the booth, enjoying the sharp intake of breath and the stilted “Right!” that the waitress barks as she takes your money. He watches her walk back to the bar, and you stare at her flat bum as well. Then you notice something about the way she moves. About how everyone, men and women both, sit in their stools or lean over the trivia machines. You remember the T; the passengers weren’t frowning, they were…satisfied.

  Sir sips his beer. “Get it yet, slut?”

  “I do, Sir,” you say, not caring who might hear you call him Sir.

  “Oh yeah? What do you get?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” you tell him. “Whenever I see someone sitting down a little tenderly, or working behind a counter, or walking slowly, I…”

  “Go on.”

  “I just think of them all wearing plugs. Everyone’s a dirty little whore wearing an ass plug for his or her Master. The whole town is sex.” You lick your lips at the thought of how wonderfully hard you’re going to get fucked tonight.

  Sir squirms in his seat, almost a little uncomfortable.

  OTHERS

  Jade A. Waters

  On her thirty-fifth birthday, Carley found herself ass-up in the Kink Club.

  Jeremy took her here for any big celebration—her birthday or his, a promotion and even the time they made it safely through a pregnancy scare. He was a masterful lover, and though she would love him til death did them part, sometimes things just needed a little extra kick.

  At the Kink, Jeremy became a different man. He wasn’t her tender, lovemaking husband; here he was a passionate commander. Carley always followed his instructions, losing herself in the orders to touch him, suck him or even spread her lips wide as he fucked her senseless in front of the other attendees. And of course there was the time on his birthday three months ago, when he chose another woman and told Carley if she had any hope of him sticking his cock deep inside her, she better make out with that woman.

  And she had.

  So before Jeremy had left her here—tenderly caressing her cheek, then slamming his hand against her bottom to demand that she bend until her skirt crept high over her ass and the cold air tickled her damp, hot cunt—she thought the next natural step would be for him to ask her to really play with a woman. And while she wasn’t much into girls, the way Jeremy would pump her for hours after made compliance an easy option.

  But now she waited, wanting to scream in embarrassment and longing, unable to see much at this angle except the legs of couples who stopped to stare, some of them silent, others whispering as her legs quaked beneath her. They wouldn’t dare touch her, but as the minutes passed slowly by—an eternity with her nakedness exposed—her sex pulsed for them to do just that. When Jeremy returned, Carley was well on the path to an orgasm built solely out of desperation.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered. She could feel him staring over her in approval, and she wanted to taste him, feel him—anything to ease her maddening excitement. He thrust one finger into her but drew it out as fast as it had come. “You’re already drenched, I see. I love how much you adore an audience. Do you want to feel my touch again?”

  “Yes, please.” Carley could see between her legs that more people had gathered to watch her lover’s movements. She clenched her inner walls tight, aching to know what he plotted, trembling with their eyes on her. “Please, Master.”

  “In front of you is a surprise, my love. If you treat it as well as you treat me, you will feel me again. Keep your body low and lift only your head—then suck.”

  Carley quivered at his words, and she raised her head as ordered, expecting to find a naked woman in front of her.

  Instead, she found the largest cock she’d ever seen, an uncut rod whose owner waggled it back and forth, nearly brushing himself against her lips. Carley started to lift her head, but Jeremy clapped his hand over her bottom so hard the viewers gasped.

  “No.”

  She whimpered and stared at the cock, its length sheathed in a purple condom and making her blood spike hotter. She’d told Jeremy she had a fantasy of two men at once, but this…

  He rubbed her ass again. “I want to see you suck him, Carley. I want you to come while everyone here watches you swallow another man.” He leaned close to her ear, sliding his hand over her wetness. “You have an audience of at least twenty. Now keep your hands on your knees and blow him.”

  The stranger groaned.

  Carley lifted her lips to the anonymous shaft. It was beautiful—one she would have admired anyway—but to have Jeremy order her to do it made her feel like a slave. She wanted so badly to despise the feeling, but as he dipped his fingers inside her dripping cunt, she cried with longing.

  She drew the man into her mouth, letting her lips rub every inch of his tremendous length, until he reached the back of her throat. There were more inches to go, and her eyes watered as she tried to take him farther without using her hands.

  “Oh yes,” he said. Carley reared back to swallow him again, and Jeremy snapped his hand on her in another smack. This one made contact with her pussy, sending the sweet cupping sound of dry flesh against wetness around the room.

  “Fuck him with your throat. Make him come like you do me, and I will shove myself inside of you as a reward. Do you want that, love?”

  She moaned, her pussy so wet she knew she must be dribbling over his fingers. Jeremy spanked her and caressed her as she ran her lips along the cock’s ridge, and the man wrapped his hands around her head.

  “Yes. She loves that. She’s so wet, please continue.”

  He began to pump Carley’s throat, making her excitement build. She loved pleasing Jeremy this way, and as the man thrust against her mouth, she countered with a hum that drove him faster. He grunted, tangling his fingers in her hair and fucking her throat. Waves of pleasure began to course through her. She ached to grab him, to use both her hands and mouth to enjoy him more thoroughly, but to do so might stop Jeremy’s touch.

  “You are so good, sucking this man down!”

  “I’m…I’m going to come,” the man growled, and Carley heard in his words that he was gritting his teeth, could feel him convulse along her tongue. She arched against Jeremy’s hand and slammed her mouth over the stranger.

  From behind her, Jeremy said, “Excellent. Carley, you’ve been so good, it’s your turn.”

  In an instant, he rubbed the head of his rod along her sopping lips. She cried out against the cock in her mouth, and Jeremy slid right inside, burying himself deep. A tear slipped from her eye as the stranger rocked, then bucked hard with a grunt that told her he
’d come. And once he did, pulling himself out of her mouth and away with a sigh, the pleasure rolled through her harder than ever before. Jeremy drove himself all the way into her.

  “Yes, my love,” he moaned. “Come!”

  A wail poured from her lips and clapping sounded behind them. The wave swept over her, spreading tingles through her limbs while Jeremy lost himself in the contractions of her pussy. He came with her, grabbing her breasts and folding over her back with a breathy grunt. For several minutes they panted like this, the others in the room cheering, some shrieking their own satiated moans.

  Jeremy withdrew his withered shaft, then told Carley to stand. He rubbed his fingers on her tender inner lips while she squirmed. Her cheeks burned red with humiliation, and though she still hadn’t seen the owner of the cock she’d swallowed moments before, she felt the heat return.

  “Shall we find another, beautiful?” Jeremy asked.

  Carley grinned. “Yes, Master.”

  WITHOUT QUESTION

  Lucy Felthouse

  I do it without question. Every single thing she asks of me. I relinquish all power, all responsibility. It is wonderfully freeing. It is sublimely beautiful. Just like her.

  “Kneel,” she barked. I did it. I dropped to my knees before her perfect form. Part of me wanted to look up, to drink in the sight of her standing there, hands on her hips, her body encased in shiny black leather. I knew I wouldn’t lift my gaze, though. I couldn’t. I have the utmost respect for my Mistress and never want to do anything to displease her. Especially since my Mistress is also my wife.

  Ever since I got back from Afghanistan and met her in a restaurant, she’s been testing me. Then, it was teasing my cock under the table while she was wearing sharp stilettos, bringing me to the very edge of climax, right there in the restaurant. Now, she occasionally takes over the role of my ex-commanding officer and treats me like some kind of new recruit.

  “Now drop and give me twenty. No, scratch that. Make it forty.”

  It was clichéd, totally unoriginal, but it got me harder than I’d ever been in my life. After so long taking orders without question, it was impossible to change that aspect of my personality, which is why I’m so grateful that Cassie came into my life—permanently—when she did. She took over the role of the Army, directing me here, there and everywhere, helping me to move forward, to adjust to civilian life. Together, we took baby steps, and when I felt able to cope, she scaled back her bossiness and reserved it strictly for the bedroom. Or, you know, anywhere else we had sex. Which was everywhere.

  It worked perfectly. Day-to-day life was mine to control, to live. But as soon as we slipped into a scene, I was completely submissive—just the way I liked it. I closed my eyes as the sight of the carpet coming closer, then moving farther away, was in danger of making me feel queasy. I obviously wasn’t working hard enough, because a spike-heeled boot settled into the small of my back and pressed down, hard. I hesitated for a millisecond, gathering all the strength I had, and continued with the push-ups. It was more difficult, of course, but it was also much more rewarding. Not to mention arousing. The shards of pain generated by the boot’s heel sliced through my body, making my blood pump faster, harder, twisting my pleasure dial up to eleven. Thankfully my boxer shorts were tight enough to keep my cock under control, otherwise it would have gotten in the way as I lowered myself to the carpet.

  I concentrated hard on keeping track of how many push-ups I’d done. If I fucked up and miscounted, I would be punished. And as much as I loved the punishments, I loved my Mistress and her delectable body more, and the sooner I satisfied her whims, the sooner she’d let me loose to play with her, pleasure her. Make her come.

  “Very good,” she eventually said, placing her foot back on the carpet. “You’re getting so good at these impromptu fitness tests, Holden. I’ll have to think of something different. More challenging.” She fixed me with a stern gaze.

  “Yes, Mistress. Whatever you say.”

  “Of course you’ll do whatever I fucking say!” Like lightning, her hand left her side and slapped my face, hard. The heat and the humiliation zipped immediately to my groin.

  “Please,” I murmured. Then louder. “Please!”

  “Please what?” she said, putting a finger beneath my chin and yanking my head up. Her eyes flashed. My cock throbbed.

  “Please can I…touch you, Mistress?”

  Clearly as aroused as I was, her expression softened just a little, and she gave a curt nod. “You may, slave, but only because you’ve been so good. Don’t expect me to let you off this easily all the time.”

  “I won’t, Mistress, I promise.”

  “Fine. Take off your clothes, then lie on your back. I want to see that stiff cock of yours. And then I’m going to ride it.”

  I gulped, then hurried to do her bidding. The anticipation, the excitement made me clumsy, and I got my head momentarily stuck in my T-shirt, then turned all thumbs when it came to undoing my jeans and getting them off. Cassie crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Seconds later I was in the position she’d commanded.

  “About damn time, too.” She reached down and undid the flap in her leather outfit that gave access to the heaven between her legs. Then she straddled my stomach, her slickness smearing against my abs. It took every bit of willpower I possessed not to grab her and impale her on my cock.

  She crawled up my body and positioned herself over my head. “Lick me. When you’ve made me come, I’ll allow your cock inside me.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Immediately, I lifted my head to reach her and stuck out my tongue. She hadn’t given me permission to use my hands, so I folded them behind my neck for support. The first taste of her tangy sweetness was sublime, and I was sure that if I could see my cock, I’d glimpse the precome seeping from its tip. God, how I wanted her.

  I pleasured her the best way I knew how. There was no teasing my Mistress—she wouldn’t allow it. So I didn’t delay. I went straight for her clit, flicking and circling it with my tongue until it swelled, then sucked it into my mouth and pulled until she came.

  There was a moment when she stopped being a Mistress, my Mistress, and simply became a woman thrust into oblivion. “Fuck…oh fuck…yes…yes…YES!” She continued to swear and babble nonsense as her pleasure washed over her.

  I didn’t move a muscle. All I wanted was her hot, tight sheath around my shaft and I wasn’t going to do a damn thing to jeopardize that. My good behavior was rewarded. As soon as she recovered sufficiently, Cassie shifted back down my body, grasped my cock in her hand and pointed it at her entrance. Then, without preamble, she dropped down onto it. One second I was out, the next second I was in. My body and brain couldn’t quite catch up with what was happening, and were further confused when she began to ride me, fast and furious.

  I was helpless. All I could do was lie there, like some kind of sex machine rather than a human being. She was fucking me, but using my cock for her own pleasure. I still didn’t know if she was going to allow me to come—she’d said I could get inside her, but not that I’d be allowed to climax.

  It was torture and perfection all at once. It didn’t matter whether she gave me permission to climax or not. My Mistress was on me—in more ways than one—and she was happy. And when she was happy, I was happy.

  For me, that was heaven.

  IN THE DARKNESS

  Regina Lafayette

  I strain my ears to listen for her. My hands are stretched above my head, wrists held in cuffs anchored to the bed with thick chain. I blink fruitlessly against the blindfold Nicole has placed on me and let out a frustrated groan.

  Dammit, I think. I don’t even know if she’s in the room right now.

  My whole body is alert, lying exposed and at her disposal. Suddenly, I feel her swing a leg over to straddle me. The soft touch of her leather crop kisses my neck, the flat tip dragging agonizingly slowly over my breasts and down the center of my belly. With a sure and quick motion she flicks the
sensitive flesh of my clit, making me cry out. I tense, unable to see where she’s aiming her next blow.

  “I love when you tense like that in anticipation,” she says, amusement clear in her voice. “Now where shall I hit you?” she asks, and I feel her shift. I think she’s putting herself in a better position to wield her crop until I feel her mouth descend onto my cunt.

  “Oh fuck,” I say, the deliberate strokes of her tongue catching me by surprise. She works over my clit almost lazily, and I grind upward into her mouth, desperately seeking more pressure, more speed, then make a garbled sound of protest as she pulls away and robs me of her perfect tongue, leaving me throbbing and breathless.

  “On your belly,” she says calmly. Firmly. A small snap of the crop just in case her command wasn’t clear enough. Emboldened by frustration, I resist.

  “No,” I say sulkily. “Make me.”

  “Oh, honey,” she laughs, sounding amused. “Gladly.” Before she even finishes speaking the crop strikes the meaty side of my ass, all teasing gone.

  “Oh,” I gasp as she revisits the spot. Her hand comes next, centered over the small rising welt, mixing the pain of the dull slap with the sharp sting the crop left behind. My hips jerk up reflexively and she takes advantage of the movement to grip me firmly with both of her hands, flipping me over so I’m lying panting on my belly. She runs her hands over the backs of my thighs and ass.

  “Beautiful,” she says, dropping a kiss on my cheeks.

  “Ah,” I cry out as the soft feel of her lips suddenly gives way to a bite harsh enough to bring tears to my eyes.

  “So pristine and asking to be marked,” she finishes. She pulls my ass roughly up into her, leaving me leaning down into the cuffs, ass and throbbing cunt exposed for her. Flush against her, I feel the outline of her garter belt. Fuck, I think. She knows how much I like that. She swats at the side of each breast. I feel the tip of the crop underneath me dragging over my belly and across my slick folds before reaching my ass, where she swipes it in a few places, seemingly judging their merit as a target. Swipes give way to swats. Gentle—infuriatingly so—teasing.