Submission Therapy

by Anna Cundell

  It was shameful, but true. Dr Hammer had been right about her. She had never in her life been so sexually alive nor so insatiable, but as long as she was treated as a submissive her body responded unequivocally. The pain was awful but already her sex was alive. She wished she could show them disdain but she was desperate for more.

  The whip lashed out again. This time it bit into the lower slopes of her buttocks, and the next cruel stroke hit in exactly the same place, making her gasp and screw her eyes tightly shut. The next was much lower, striking the backs of her thighs and curling around them excruciatingly. She was panting for breath now, each new stripe of pain combining to produce a unique and profound pleasure.

  ‘This is more delicate,’ the man said. ‘You’ve got to be really accurate.’ Clare heard feet moving, another movement of air and another whistle, and then felt the long thin lash of the whip bite into her nipples, cutting across the centre of her breasts. This time she screamed, trying to twist her body away from the torture.

  ‘Keep still,’ the man ordered. ‘Or it’s double the punishment for you.’

  Clare tried to do as she was told, inhaling deeply, attempting to override the burning pain and ignore her traitorous arousal. Being tied up, powerless to do anything to stop the torture, made both even more intense.

  The whip lashed her breasts four more times then fell silent. She felt her tormentor moving closer, his breath against her face. He raised a hand and cupped her breast. The soft flesh was so hot the cool of his palm felt soothing. She could not help but moan her appreciation.

  ‘Do you want more?’ he asked.

  ‘You… you know what I want,’ she said defiantly. There was no point pretending. They had only snatched her for one reason. They knew the whipping would arouse her. How they knew that was significant in some way to the identity of them, but she didn’t have time to think about that. A hand caressed her cheek. She turned her head sharply and managed to catch a finger between her teeth, biting it hard.

  ‘Mmm…’ the man murmured. ‘I like that. She has spirit.’

  He pulled away, and she heard a rustle of clothes as the other man moved behind her. He cupped her breasts and pressed his body against her back, rubbing his groin against her beaten bottom. She could feel his erection growing within his trousers.

  ‘Lovely tits,’ he said bluntly. He kissed her neck whilst playing with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, and then cruelly stretching them until her breasts were pulled taut. Once again the pain of it only seemed to amplify her arousal. ‘Remember when we?’

  ‘Be careful what you say,’ the other man snapped.

  ‘Oh, yeah…’ He let go of Clare’s nipples, the pliant flesh of her breasts quivering as he did.

  ‘Get your gear off while I have a go.’

  Clare felt arms embracing her. This time the masculine body was naked and an erect cock was pressed against her tummy. Lips mashed against hers. For a moment she resisted as his tongue drove inward, but it was no good pretending she didn’t want it as much as he did. So she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to plunge inside, and despite her shame she found herself kissing him back enthusiastically, twisting her tongue against his.

  A hand pushed down between her buttocks then delved for her sex, playing roughly with her labia then hooking a finger into her vagina. She felt her wetness coating the invader.

  ‘You want it don’t you, sweetheart?’ he said, pulling his mouth away.

  She did not reply. There was something about the way he called her sweetheart that was terribly familiar. But at the moment all she could concentrate on was the feelings that were coursing through her body, every muscle in her body trembling with need.

  He withdrew his finger, she felt him bend his legs slightly, and then the whole length of his cock smoothed upward against her sex lips. He stabbed his hips, her juices lubricating his shaft without him actually penetrating her, and he grabbed her buttocks fiercely, his fingers digging spitefully deep into the scorched and welted flesh.

  ‘Perhaps we should leave her alone like this – give her time to think about it all,’ he goaded.

  ‘No…’ she breathed. ‘No, please.’

  ‘No, you don’t want to be left alone?’ he said, mocking her.

  Then his possessive hands slipped lower to the backs of her thighs. He lifted her bodily and thrust his cock upward again, piercing her with one smooth stab of his hips.

  The wicked pleasure was intense and she sobbed loudly. There was still discomfort in her weary body, but it mingled with exquisite pleasure to become that peculiar cocktail she had become so familiar with, and that turned her on like nothing else.

  With his fingers clamped to the backs of her thighs, holding her limp form like a doll, he began to fuck her avidly, her squashed breasts rubbing up and down against his chest. He was strong and his pelvic thrusts powerful and deep.

  Clare knew she was approaching a violent climax. The fact that it was so detached and uncaring, that she was being treated merely as a nameless receptacle by a total stranger, a man she had never even seen, should have dismayed her. This was the most humiliating and degrading experience she’d had, but the fact was the more she realised that the more excited she became. That was her nature, that is what Dr Hammer had recognised in her. She was a slave, she told herself. She was prepared to let herself be used by anyone, man or woman, and derive indecent pleasure in the process.

  Her juices were flowing so copiously she could feel them coating her inner thighs. Her clitoris had begun pulsing wildly and deep inside her body, in the pit of her stomach, her orgasm exploded violently, and even in such an awkward position she managed to screw herself down on his cock, wringing every last drop of bliss from her body.

  She had forgotten the other man. As the first continued to fuck her the other one came up behind her again, his hands squeezing round for her breasts. He was naked now and she felt him pushing his cock against her buttocks. It nudged down to the mouth of her anus, producing another wicked spasm of pleasure that shocked her out of the torpid aftermath of her orgasm. Instantly her senses were revived, and instead of any trepidation at this intimate intrusion, Clare only felt a strong thrill of anticipation.

  ‘No, you can’t do that. You know the rules.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter; there’s no cameras in here. Come on.’

  The first man stopped his rhythmic movements. ‘All right, but not like this. Cut her down.’ Without him withdrawing Clare felt the rope above her head being loosened. She dropped her bound hands around the man’s neck and stretched her aching muscles. While she was still impaled on his cock she felt him walk over to the bed and lower her onto it. Her pulse was racing with excitement. There was little doubt in her mind what they were going to do to her. It wasn’t just that she was going to be buggered for the first time, it was clear what they wanted was double penetration.

  The man on top of her then grasped her tightly and rolled over so she was straddling his hips and he was underneath. He began to move inside her again, as urgently as he had before. She felt the second man crouching behind them, and again his cock prodded between her buttocks. It centred on the little puckered ring of her anus, causing yet another flood of the most wonderful wickedness to swamp her. She found herself pressing back against it, testing the resistance of her sphincter.

  But then the supine man tensed and grunted and Clare felt him ejaculate deep inside, her vagina seeming to milk him of all his essence. The enormity of it plunged her into an orgasm of her own, the feeling of the other ramrod cock so near to taking her bottom virginity only making the climax even more intense.

  ‘What the hell is going on here?!’ The words echoed around the room with the impact of a bucket of cold water poured over the bed. Clare recognised the voice immediately. It was Jacqueline Fellowes, and that could only mean one thing: Clare was b
ack at the clinic.

  Ms Fellowes had given Clare a white cotton dress, a cotton bra and bikini-style cotton panties. The dress had long sleeves and came to just below her knees. She hated it. Only the shoes, high-heeled white court shoes, bore any resemblance to the clothes she’d been used to wearing.

  ‘Don’t I get any make-up?’ she asked sulkily.

  ‘There’s no need for that,’ Jacqueline Fellowes said. ‘Now follow me. Dr Hammer is waiting.’

  They walked downstairs to his study. Ms Fellowes knocked on the door, and then opened it. ‘Go in,’ she said.

  Clare entered, realising she felt much more self-conscious than if she’d been wearing some revealing lingerie.

  ‘Take a seat, please,’ Dr Hammer said, in a distinctly businesslike manner.

  His unwavering eyes focussed on hers, and their power made her feel slightly awkward as she walked towards his desk. She sat down on the chair in front of it.

  ‘Before we begin I’d like you to watch something,’ he said.

  He picked up the remote control on his desk, and the television in the corner flicked into life. At first the screen was fuzzy as if the lens of the camera was adjusting to the light. Then it cleared and showed what looked like the inside of a van. Strapped to one wall was a woman, and it didn’t take Clare long to recognise Mandy, nor, a few minutes later, herself, dressed in skin-tight red rubber.

  ‘I think we can fast forward,’ the doctor said, pressing a button on the remote. The picture accelerated almost farcically, then stopped. This time the view was an exterior, and Mandy was tied to a tree. Another female was bent over with her arms secured, while a man fed his cock into her mouth.

  ‘You knew,’ she said. ‘All the time you knew.’

  Dr Hammer smiled. ‘Yes, of course I knew. They were acting on my orders. If you had not responded in the way I’d predicted, the rest of your treatment was unlikely to be a success. It is therefore a worthwhile precaution to see that I am not wasting my time. I do not like to waste my time.’

  ‘And the abduction. You staged that too?’

  ‘Yes. That was the final test. It was necessary to prove to you that even with men you believed to be complete strangers you could respond as long as you were subservient. I understand you have had no trouble sleeping?’

  ‘No, none.’

  ‘Good. My prognosis is that you will not experience any problems again.’

  Clare had become so used to not speaking she hesitated for a few seconds.

  ‘Please, ask any questions you like,’ he prompted.

  ‘But if I was suppressing my subconscious desire to be submissive,’ she started, trying to get a grip on what she was hearing, ‘surely when my sex life returns to normal my sleeping patterns will become erratic again.’

  ‘Yes, they will,’ he confirmed. ‘So you must ensure that in your future encounters with men you express your needs. You are a very beautiful young lady, Ms Mason. I’m sure you will find many men willing to oblige. Many more than you would imagine, in fact.’

  Clare stared down at the white cotton covering her thighs. ‘I don’t see how. I mean…’ She wondered if she should tell him about Greg. ‘I mean, it’s not going to be easy.’

  ‘Of course, there is an alternative,’ he said.

  ‘An alternative?’ Clare repeated sharply.

  Dr Hammer sat back in his leather chair and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. ‘Naturally, over the years I have developed many contacts with men and women who share some rather unusual tastes, and have the money to indulge them,’ he told her.

  ‘Like your brother?’ she ventured.

  He smiled and nodded, his eyes twinkling for a second. ‘Indeed, like my brother. In fact, it was my brother who suggested the whole idea. We call it the system. Some of my ex-patients, as well as people from other sources, who wish to pursue their sexual nature, agree to be indented – I believe that is an old English word used for apprentices – to a master or maitresse,’ he pronounced the word with a perfect French accent, ‘for a period of time, usually a year. At the end of that period they can return to normal life or agree to a further period with another master.’

  ‘And these masters have been your patients too?’ she asked. ‘Like your wife?’

  ‘How perceptive. Yes, but not like my wife. My wife helps me with all my patients. The masters in the system have dedicated slaves for a limited period of time.’

  ‘Slaves?’

  ‘Depending on their facilities. Anything between one and five. Five is the maximum. It requires considerable resources to house five slaves in safety and privacy.’

  At last Clare understood what the references she’d overheard meant. ‘You’re offering me that alternative?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. I think you are suitable.’

  ‘I can’t stay with you?’

  ‘No. That is not a possibility. I must continue my work here.’

  Clare wanted to be a submissive. She needed to be a submissive. She did not know how long she would feel that way, but she felt it now as strongly as she had ever felt anything in her whole life.

  ‘I accept,’ she said calmly.

  ‘You should take time to think about it.’

  ‘I’ve thought about nothing else. I know what I want. You’ve made me see that.’

  ‘Very well, I’ll make the arrangements.’ He opened the drawer and took out a single piece of paper. ‘Please sign this document.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘That you are satisfied with the treatment and I am therefore no longer your doctor.’

  Clare signed without reading it, and slid it back across the desk to him.

  ‘Good. Tomorrow I will circulate your details to the members of the system. Meantime it seems I am loco parentis. And as I am no longer your doctor…’ His tone changed completely, suddenly stern and commanding. ‘Get to your feet.’

  Clare felt a surge of excitement. After the conversation she’d just had and his categorical refusal to have her as his slave, she had resigned herself to never fulfilling her desires. But Dr Hammer’s expression changed with his voice. It no longer bore professional indifference. His hypnotic eyes were analysing her with undisguised lust.

  He stood up and walked across the office to a small wooden cupboard. He opened it and took out a shiny metal contraption, which reminded Clare of some sort of animal trap. It was a short bar with four hinged metal hoops in a row. The inner surfaces of the hoops were thickly padded.

  ‘I want you to strip your clothes off, all of them, do you understand?’ he told her sternly.

  ‘Yes, doctor.’

  ‘Yes, master,’ he corrected. ‘I am not your doctor any longer.’

  ‘Yes, master,’ she said meekly, the sound of the epithet resonating through her body. How long she had wanted to stand in front of him and call him that. Quickly she pulled off her dress and underwear, glad to be rid of the frumpy clothes.

  ‘Kneel on the floor.’

  Clare obeyed at once, wanting to show him that she would be a good slave, and the sight of the metal device filled her with that odd combination of apprehension and excitement she had felt before.

  The doctor squatted by her ankles. He opened the two outer hoops, pushed the bar under her ankles and then snapped the hoops closed over them, locking them closed.

  ‘Now I want you to put your hands down between your legs,’ he instructed.

  Clare leant forward. She had to turn her face to one side and rest her cheek on the carpet, but she managed to push her arms back through her legs. Immediately she felt the doctor grab her wrists. He opened the two inner hoops on the bar, pulled her wrists into them and snapped them closed. He had effectively turned her into a ball with her buttocks vulnerably raised.

  ‘Lovely,’ he said,
his hand caressing her satiny smooth bottom. ‘Tonight you will be shaved. Completely shaved.’

  Clare remembered Anouska had mentioned that her husband preferred that, and the thought of it made her tingle.

  ‘Yes, master,’ she said.

  ‘I want you to see if you can get free.’

  Clare tried to pull her arms from the hoops, but they were held tight. She could not move her legs either and her own weight prevented her lifting the bar off the floor. It was terribly uncomfortable but terribly exciting at the same time.

  ‘Good,’ he said, straightening up, and behind her she could hear him pulling off his clothes. The doctor was unpredictable, but she dared not believe the tight bondage was the prelude to an intimate encounter.

  ‘This is what you want, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, master.’ He was her master. She had never wanted a man more in her life.

  With her head turned she could just see him standing behind her. His impressive cock was already erect. He went back to the cupboard and took out a large rubber dildo, and her heart sank. She didn’t want that. She wanted him.

  He knelt behind her. She felt the tip of the dildo nosing between her labia. She was so wet it probed easily, and he pushed it deep.

  ‘Don’t let it slip out,’ he warned.

  He moved closer, his knees on either side of her legs. His hands gripped her hips and his cock, hot and throbbing, pressed into the valley between her buttocks. Clare gasped. She had waited so long for this. She remembered graphically how she’d watched him feed his erect cock into Mandy’s bottom, and how she wished it were her. Now she realised, with her vagina already filled with the dildo, that was exactly what he was going to do. She was sure he had planned it, worked out in advance exactly what he wanted, and that thought delighted her too. She hadn’t been the only one who’d been obsessed with chimerical visions of their sexual encounters.

  She felt his glans prod against her anus, and it all made sense. During her ‘treatment’ there was one thing none of her lovers had been allowed to do to her. Her rear passage had been stoically protected – left intact.