Her Submission

by Vonna Harper

  He’d given her permission to leave the bathroom, hadn’t he, but the only place she could go was back to him. Nauseated, she fumbled with the faucet, rinsed her hands, and dried them on a plush towel. A glance at the mirror was enough. She didn’t recognize the gagged woman staring back at her. Facing him and taking the necessary step made her dizzy but she’d be damned if she let him know how much it took out of her.

  To her discomfort, he simply stared at her for a long time. Then: “Follow me.”

  How dare he expect her to trail after him like some dog! Having him overpower her using his greater strength was one thing, expecting her to dumbly give in was too much, but they both knew she had no choice.

  This time he didn’t haul her behind him but walked ahead. He didn’t bother to look back at her. Feeling disconnected from reality, she concentrated on not tripping over the ropes. No doubt about it, he’d kept both in place in case he had to quickly regain control over her.

  And because that was the kind of bastard he was.

  It was beautiful outside. She’d seen enough of the peaceful setting that it called to her. A quick twist of the doorknob and she’d—

  He stopped in the middle of the expansive living room. His slow pace as he faced her made her wonder if he’d had to talk himself into it, but that was crazy. Head cocked to the side, he crooked a finger at her indicating he wanted her to come closer.

  “I haven’t decided on my ultimate use for you,” he informed her when she was so close his masculine heat enveloped her. “Regardless, your transformation will remain the same.” He pointed at the room where he gone for the rope. “I could have already brought out everything I’ll need for this lesson, but if I had you’d be focusing on the instruments instead of me.”

  Don’t say those things!

  “First up, some modifications in your restraints. While we’re at it, it’s time we got rid of this.” His hand snaked out and he grabbed her top’s neckline. “Where’d you get this damn thing, some yard sale?”

  Alarmed as she was, she couldn’t think what she was wearing but she seldom bought new so he was probably right. She started to lean away but stopped when he made it clear he wasn’t going to let go. Smiling, he pulled her against him. He had an erection.

  They stood body to body, heat to heat with their expelled breaths merging. He wasn’t a massive man, some six to eight inches taller than her, older but not that much. In other circumstances she might have been drawn to the masculinity radiating from his core. This man took charge. Nothing intimidated him. The women in his life would never doubt that they’d be cared for.

  She had to be going crazy! Otherwise she’d never think that.

  Never let her stupid submissive fanaticizing mess with reality.

  “Here’s the drill, slave. The only thing you have to do right now is stand there. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Her jaw had gone numb from the ball gag. Even if he took it out, she wasn’t sure she could speak. Besides, what would she say? Obviously pleas and promises wouldn’t work with him. She could ask if he intended to kill her, but did she want to know and could she believe anything he said?

  On a sigh, he pushed her away, letting go of her top as he did. She grunted but didn’t move when he took hold of the rope around her wrists and began untying the knots. Once he’d freed the lead, he loped it over his shoulder and started on the strands that had long rendered her hands useless.

  “How’s your circulation? Anything feel compromised?”

  Wondering if he cared at all about her comfort, she rubbed one wrist and then the other. She felt the indentations the loops had left in her skin but surprisingly, there was little tingling.

  “Nope. Haven’t lost my touch. All right, you have two choices. Either I strip you or you do it.”

  To hell with him! No way would she play his sick game. She tightened her muscles in preparation for making a run for the door.

  “No you don’t!” A masculine hand snaked out and grabbed the ring in her collar.

  Almost before she knew what he had in mind, he’d yanked down and forced her onto her hands and knees. He knelt beside her and rolled her onto her back. Then he straddled her, his weight settled over her naked belly.

  “Want to wrestle, do you? There’s nothing I’d like more than to accommodate you.”

  Despite her frantic struggles, he easily pulled her arms over her head. He released them but before she could bring them back down, he grabbed her top’s hem and yanked up. The garment snagged on the damnable collar and then the gag. All too soon, he’d torn it off her.

  “Round one goes to me.”

  Screaming into the horrible ball, she reached for his face thinking to bury her nails in his flesh. Before she could, however, he clamped his hand under her chin just above the collar. She couldn’t breathe!

  “Not going to happen, slave. Not fucking going to happen.”

  Her vision blurred, and her arms became so weak she couldn’t make them work. He was killing her! Destroying her.

  In a vague and uninterested way she knew she was passing out. At first not being to breathe terrified her, but before long it didn’t matter. Any second now the nightmare would end. She’d be done. Dead.

  “Got the point did you?”

  Blessed fresh air filled her lungs. Afraid she wouldn’t get a second chance, she sucked in as much as her lungs could hold. He was lifting himself off her but trying to determine his intentions would have to wait until she was clearheaded.

  Before she could, he rolled her onto her stomach, settled himself over her ass, and pulled her hands behind her. He used a just-discarded rope to secure her wrists to the belt’s ring in back, insuring himself that she wouldn’t have another chance to try to attack him. When he was done, he took hold of her elbows and lifted her upper body off the floor. Because he was still sitting on her buttocks, her back was deeply bowed.

  A sob escaped past the gag.

  “Not quite as cocky as you were are you? To state the obvious, we’re just getting started.”

  She tried to tell herself he was simply torturing her with his words, that he wasn’t a monster. Then he got off her and she rolled to the side as much as her deeply bent elbows allowed and looked up at him.

  The way he glared down at her reminded her of a predator standing over his prey.

  “On your feet, slave.”

  Her throat still hurt from where he’d squeezed it but that didn’t bother her as much as realizing he’d heard her cry. She wasn’t sure why staying strong was so important, just that not emotionally surrendering was all she had.

  Naked except for ropes, leather, and her bra, she forced her knees under her. She tried to stand but without her arms for balance, she fell forward.

  “Keep at it, slave. If you haven’t succeeded by the time I return, you’ll pay the price.”

  He was walking away, heading for the room she feared was filled with instruments of torture. Despite that, being alone helped settle her enough that she managed to formulate a plan. Scooting across the room on her knees was hard, but finally she reached the closest recliner. She braced an elbow against the arm and leveraged herself onto her feet.

  “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d think you were in a hurry for the lesson to begin.”

  How long had he been standing in the doorway? Maybe he’d witnessed her awkward and demeaning struggle. After facing him, she stood with her legs widespread, waiting—for what?

  Oh god, what was in the canvas bag he was carrying?

  “Trapped, aren’t you?” Looking as if he had all the time in the world to do this one thing, he studied her. His expression had changed from contemplation to all-knowing. All-powerful. “It has to be damn frustrating to know you’d have an equal chance, well at least some kind of chance, if not for what I’ve placed around your wrists. Maybe you could gouge out my eyes or knee me where a man never wants to be kneed.” He reached into the bag and withdrew a short knife. “Maybe you’d bur
y this in me.”

  He started toward her.

  Biting down on the miserable gag, she started to back pedal.

  “You don’t want to do that, slave. Making me mad or frustrated will only get you in even more trouble.”

  She knew, she just hadn’t been able to silence the instinct for survival. Reminding herself that even though she was his prey he hadn’t crippled her, she forced herself to stand her ground. The knife was a prop, something he’d use to intimidate her, not a killing weapon.

  The contemplative look returned. “You interest me. More than I thought you would. There’s something I don’t yet have a handle on going on in that head of yours.”

  A compliment? Hardly.

  Despite her efforts not to, she tried to twist away when he took hold of the collar ring. He pulled up until she was on her toes. “Stay like that,” he commanded. “Don’t move a damn muscle.”

  She took a deep if not calming breath when he let go and fought to keep her legs under her. This wasn’t much different from when he’d left her to take a nap and served as yet another example of how little control she had over the situation. She needed to try to determine what he intended to do. Instead, she stared at the distant and inaccessible door to freedom.

  He slipped the knife under her bra between her breasts and started sawing. Too soon it parted. Her breasts were still covered but not by much. Humming, he pulled the cups off her.

  Exposed. Useless scraps of material hanging off her shoulders.

  “Not bad at all, and they’re natural. That ups your value.”

  My value to whom?

  No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t remain on her toes so awkwardly settled onto the balls of her feet. She readied herself for punishment or an angry outburst but neither came. Finally she dared to look down at herself. Her breasts were exposed all right and her nipples—why were they so hard? Was fear alone responsible?

  “I kind of like that look.” He pulled down on the bra cups so they dangled near her armpits. “So close to modesty and yet so far. However, any clothes will get in the way of what I have planned for you so—“ He waved the knife in front of her. “Hold on, slave.”

  Staying still while he cut through the bra straps took all her self-control. When he’d done his damage, he yanked the ruined garment off her.

  Naked. Nothing left of her life before he’d taken her. Some of her belongings in the back of his truck.

  His to do what with?

  “All right. What’s the best way to accomplish this?” He sounded as if he was talking to himself. Shortly before he’d come back downstairs, she’d heard him talking to someone. At first she thought that the other person was in the cabin then decided he’d been on the phone. Did the man or woman on the other end of the line have any idea what his or her friend was up to? What if it was someone connected to what he’d referred to as Carnal? Maybe his co-worker on his way here.

  He again took hold of the ring and hauled her back to the stairs. A fresh whimper lodged in her throat as he reattached the chain and tethered her to the railing. He hadn’t left her enough room to move more than a few inches, and if she tried to look down, the collar would tighten.

  After a pat on her right breast, he walked away. Even though she couldn’t see him, her nerves warned her that he was still in the room. All too soon he returned. A soft thud near her feet told her he’d retrieved his pack.

  “They’re more than all right.” He settled his hands over her breasts. “At least that’s how I see them and that’s what matters.”

  At first he seemed content to simply cradle her boobs. No matter how hard she tried to emotionally distance herself from the contact, her nipples hardened even more. He’d given her no way to resist, not even a hint of freedom. Maybe that’s what she was responding to, the ultimate in helplessness. Living at the pleasure of and under the control of another human being.

  Reality instead of fantasy.

  Her captor’s fingers pressed against the tops of her breasts. Bit by bit the pressure increased until, more alarmed than in pain, she stamped her foot.

  “This is what I refer to as establishing a direct conduit between body and mind. I’m also throwing in a sensual element because I want you to remember what that feels like.” His thumbs started stroking her breasts’ undersides. “This might be the last bit of pleasure you’ll experience today so I suggest you enjoy it as much as possible.”

  He was going to hurt her more than he already had. The why no longer mattered.

  “Where did you come from little slave? What were you before you became mine?”

  Why was he keeping her gagged? Several times now he’d said things that made her think he wanted to carry on a conversation, not that she’d ever do that. Having her mouth stuffed was preferable to having to speak to him—except if she could, she might pepper him with her own questions.

  Questions like what made him a monster?

  A monster who at the moment was gently running knowing fingers over her too-responsive nipples.

  “These are part of your undoing.” He closed thumbs and forefingers around the hard nubs. “I’ve already brought up your weakness so you’re probably getting tired of hearing about it, but I want you to be knowledgeable about certain things.” He tightened his hold, causing an electrical charge to shoot through her. “I’ve never wanted to do this before but…”

  More pressure, the grip inescapable. Unable to concentrate on his words. She started to throw herself to the side. His hold tightened.

  “Yeah,” he muttered as he relaxed his hold a little. “I don’t dare ignore the possibility of negative consequences. Besides, my leg’s only good for so much.”

  His leg, something she wasn’t about to forget.

  When, to her relief, he released her throbbing nipples, she tried to swallow only to discover her throat was too dry. She was so hungry her stomach kept growling, but that was nothing compared to her thirst. If he intended to keep her alive, eventually he’d have to give her more to drink.

  And let her rest.

  He’d gotten something out of his bag while she was trying to work saliva into her throat. She risked the collar abrading her neck trying to see what he’d chosen.

  More rope. Red in color and soft looking. Draped over his shoulder.

  “I want to learn everything I can about your reactions and responsiveness which means the gag has served its purpose.”

  She managed not to move while he unfastened the leather at the back of her head. When he pulled the ball out of her mouth, a trail of saliva hung between the gag and her lips. He caught some of the sticky moisture and rubbed it against a cheek where leather had pressed for so long.

  “I believe we’ll begin with a minimum of rules with regards to vocalization on your part. I won’t stand for begging. Spontaneous expressions of pain are allowable. In fact I’ve always considered that music to my ears. No promises, no threats, no whimpering. In other words, if the sounds you’re considering making don’t come from here—“ He pressed against her breastbone indicating her heart. “you’d be wise to keep them to yourself.”

  Don’t do this to me! Dear god, please don’t put me through any more. Unless…

  The primitive words were still moving through her when she realized he was waiting for a response. She nodded.

  “A good start.” He tossed the gag away and took the red rope off his shoulder. “Better than I expected in fact.” He shook out the length. “Most captives—by now they’ve lost it. You’re different.”

  The moment he reached behind her she guessed what he had in mind. He looped strand after strand around her so the rope pressed down on the tops of her breasts. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but it didn’t matter. Bit by bit he was altering the way her mounds looked, adding to her captivity. After too many loops, he changed the rope’s course so the strands were now under her breasts and pushing up on the swollen flesh.

  “Not bad,” he said, stepping back from her. �
�I doubt if you’ll agree. What I want you to do is concentrate on how your breasts feel. Be honest. I’ll know if you lie.”

  And you’ll punish me for it. She swallowed. “It’s tight. They’re being pinched.”

  “Then I’ve succeeded, at least in part. A little more work and it’ll be time for you to understand why I’m doing this.”

  He was getting something else out of the bag of horrors! Even more unsettling, he didn’t let her see what it was.

  His hands, those instruments of pain and pleasure, returned to her breasts. Instead of touching them as she was certain he’d do, he ran yet more rope under the strands already there. With the new rope now between her breasts, he pulled it so tight the over/under loops touched. In essence he’d fashioned a crude bra out of red cord.

  “What’s changed?” he asked as he tied knots.

  Caught. Yours. Submitting to you. “It’s tighter. Squishing my breasts.”

  “Right you are.” He flicked her left nipple. “Can you undo my handiwork?”

  I don’t know if I want to. She tried to shake her upper body. “No.”

  “But you want to.”

  “Yes. Of course I do.”

  “Defiance.” He pinched her right nipple. “Oh yes this is going to be interesting, at least for me. A chance to do what I’m—what I’m good at.”

  Had that been a moment of hesitancy? Introspection maybe. If so he wasn’t the only one.

  “By the time I’m done with you today you’ll have begun a break with the old you. The process won’t be complete, far from it, but if you want to say goodbye to the old you, this would be a good time.”

  Maybe if she thanked him he’d—

  No! She wasn’t ready for that, yet.

  “Before we get down to the business at hand,” he said, “I’ve decided to let you look at yourself.”

  I already did.

  He’d unchained her and guided her back into the small bathroom via a hold on her arm before it dawned on her that he wasn’t dragging her because she’d willingly matched his steps stride for stride. He positioned her in the dark space, then turned on the light.

  The first thing she noticed was how limp her hair looked, how haunted her eyes. More than haunted, she acknowledged. There was something else, maybe anticipation.