Her Submission

by Vonna Harper

  “Just do it. Get it over with.”

  Instead of pointing out that she was in no position to order him to do anything, he reached into the space she’d provided and separated her labial lips. His fingers were so gentle, a stark contrast to the tool he’d used to tear her into pieces.

  Seconds later, wildly gyrating rubber settled over her sex. Much as she needed this, it was so much. She tried to straighten then forced herself to hold still. As sensation reached every part of her she told herself he was no longer doing. Except for her imprisoned arms, she had back control over her body.

  Or did she?

  Hot juices flowed from her along with what was left of her ability to reason. Her head fell back so it rested on the chair. Her toes dug into the carpet, and her mouth hung open.

  Back in the dungeon her mind had created over the years, staring in helpless awe and submission at the man who’d laid claim to every inch of her body. Handing herself over to him, accepting his domination, trusting.

  She came. Came in a thunder of cries and clenching sex muscles. Dove into wave upon wave of defenseless heat, nearly drowned.

  “I hate you!” she blurted when at last she could speak, but it was a lie. If she hated anyone, it was herself because he now knew so much about her, nearly everything.

  Chapter eleven

  “I’m calling because I wanted to point out something about the pictures you sent,” Damek said. “I’m not sure you’re aware of what you did. Maybe you want to talk about it.”

  Reno had to look at the clock to get a handle on the time. He’d barely noticed the sun setting and was surprised to learn it was going on for 9 p.m. On the TV, a professional baseball game was tied, action suspended while a new pitcher warmed up.

  “What?” he asked. “You’re critiquing the lighting?”

  “Where is she? If you’re in the middle of something—“

  “I’m not. What’s this about?”

  Damek grunted. “I just wanted to make an observation and hopefully get your reaction. Instead of telling me to go to hell, give me a minute because I might be getting to something. Have you looked at the shots you took of today’s lesson?”

  “No.”

  “You might want to.”

  “Damn it what are you talking about?”

  “You and I have probably taken a million pictures of slaves we’re working with. After a while they all run together. Tall, short, skinny, padded, it doesn’t much matter. They’re naked. End of discussion.”

  Eventually Damek would get around to the reason for his call. In the meantime he’d concentrate on bringing himself back to the here and now. He might have dozed off. That was a good enough explanation for why he was having such a hard time holding up his end of the conversation. What he did know was that his newest acquisition was lying on the couch at the opposite side of the room. A chain connected her ankle to the couch leg and her hands were cuffed in front. He’d thrown a blanket over her and her hair billowed over a throw pillow. Soft snoring sounds led him to believe she hadn’t heard his cell phone.

  “Something’s different about this batch,” Damek said. “Yeah there were pussy and boob shots, but I don’t think you’ve ever taken this many of a slave-in-training’s face.”

  Reno straightened and muted the TV. “You can identify her?”

  “No. Never saw her mug on a wanted poster.”

  Wanted poster? Had it ever gotten to that point with her? Something she’d said made him realize it was a possibility. Maybe she’d been locked up before anyone had to go looking for her.

  “I just want to put this out there,” Damek went on. “You can tell me I’m crazy if that’s what you think, but I got the sense you’re seeing her in a new way.”

  “Of course I am,” he snapped. “For the first time in forever I’m not under contract to produce a marketable product within a tight timeframe.”

  Damek snorted. “Maybe. Maybe not. Look, I’ve been worried about you and not just because you got smashed up good. Ever since the accident you haven’t given a damn about much of anything.”

  Yeah, I know.

  “Are you still there? I thought you might bite my head off.”

  “I’m trying to decide whether it’s worth the effort,” he said even though he wasn’t.

  “Take a look at the shots. Her expression shows in most of them.”

  Knowing Damek, that was as far as he’d go which suited Reno just fine. They spent a few minutes talking baseball, then Damek said he was going to fix himself a nightcap. Reno hung up but instead of doing the same thing himself, he turned his attention to the small form on his couch. Even before she’d told him she’d spent part of her youth locked up, he’d wanted to know something about her.

  He wouldn’t be feeling this way if he hadn’t brought her to his sanctuary.

  The hell he wouldn’t.

  Then it had to be her innate submissive nature and the opportunity to exploit it.

  No, not that either.

  Angry and confused, he tried to turn his attention back to the game. The relief picture worked his way into a full count and kept shaking his head at the catcher’s signs. After fouling off three balls, the batter walked.

  “Shit,” he muttered and stood. He didn’t ask himself why he was going over to her. From the looks of things she was down for the count. He could wake her of course. Hell, maybe he should just to bring home a little matter of who was in charge, but he’d put his leg through the wringer. He should kick back in the recliner, maybe fall asleep himself.

  The blanket had slid off her shoulder but still covered her breasts which made things marginally easier on his nervous system. Frowning, he cradled his cock. It wasn’t rock hard like it had been when he’d been working on her but neither was it just hanging there like it had ever since his accident. The docs had assured him that a loss of libido—that’s what they called it—was normal considering how much healing his system had to do. After all he’d nearly died. He’d know he’d turned the corner when he stopped obsessing over his mortality and started being interested in sex again.

  Back when the docs had told him that, he’d debated letting them know how he earned a living. If they did, they’d understand that being turned on was a constant condition for a man in his profession and not giving a damn about fucking scared the hell out of him.

  Maybe he should get in touch with the medical staff and let them know the corner had been turned.

  Except, maybe, the return of his hard-on was more complicated than that. Revolved around her.

  His captive sighed and repositioned her hand under her cheek. She looked so damn innocent, trusting even.

  Except for the collar, cuffs, and chained ankle.

  What did you do to get you sideways with the law? And when it happened, did anyone stand beside you or were you alone?

  Like me.

  His fingers tightened around the family jewels. Brought up short by the resultant pain, he backed away from the nameless female he’d brought into his world. Enough was enough! From now on he’d be all business with her. Get back in the saddle so to speak.

  And when he had her the way he wanted her?

  He’d worry about that then.

  #

  “Hands behind your head. Arch your back. Stick out your breasts. Get those damn legs spread.”

  Despite the hobbles, Kaci struggled to obey. Otherwise he wouldn’t let her eat. He’d been doing what he called putting her though her paces for what seemed like hours and showed no sign of growing tired of ordering her around. When she’d first woken after spending the night on the couch, it had taken her several minutes to absorb the reality of her situation. She hadn’t had any choice but to stay in place until he unfastened the chain from the couch leg. He’d pushed her ahead of him into the bathroom, dragging the chain behind her. Using the toilet under his steady and silent stare had served an unnecessary reminder of their relationship.

  To her relief, he’d let her use a toothbrush and
wash up. When he signaled that she’d been in the bathroom long enough, she’d hoped he had breakfast in mind. Instead, he’d hobbled her.

  How long ago had that been and what else would he make her do before her training, if that’s what this was, was over?

  “From today forward,” he said as she thrust her breasts at him, “you will have only one purpose in life. That’s to please your master. I understand your resistance. In fact I expect it.” He leaned forward and pressed the tip of the switch he’d chosen for this morning’s lesson against her left nipple. “Whether you fight me or try to take your mind from what’s being done to your body doesn’t matter because in the end I’ll win. I always do. No.” He ran the switch under her chin, forcing her to lift her head. “How many times do I need to remind you to keep your position until I release you from it?”

  She didn’t think he expected a reply so concentrated on forcing her stiff muscles to do as he’d commanded. Not long ago he’d fixed himself eggs and toast while her forehead rested on the kitchen floor and her buttocks waved at nothing. The smell lingered, making her stomach growl and her mouth water, and yet she couldn’t say she hated him. She wasn’t sure what she felt now that they were in the living room, maybe a bit of pleasure because his day revolved around her. Everything he said and did was with her in mind.

  “Hands on your thighs.”

  Swallowing a groan of relief, she eased her cuffed hands over her head and rested them on her upper legs. She took care to keep her back arched so hopefully he wouldn’t give her another example of what the switch was capable of. A half dozen stinging blows to her breasts earlier when she hadn’t presented herself to his satisfaction had been more than enough. She guessed today’s weapon was nearly four feet long and made of bamboo. Unlike what he’d used on her yesterday, it would cut flesh if he put his full strength behind it.

  “Keep your hands where they are. Resist any and all impulses to touch your sex.”

  How did he know she was aroused?

  As soon as she asked the question, she had the answer. This man knew everything about her—at least all the things that mattered to him.

  “I didn’t complete yesterday’s lesson,” he told her. He started rolling the switch between his palms. “In the greater scheme of things this particular timing doesn’t matter, but now that I have your full attention, it’s time to introduce a fundamental rule. I could get you to tell me your name but slave suffices.”

  What could she do, scream at him that he was wrong? He’d only laugh and punish her.

  “I dare say you have a name for me, one that starts with a B. I’m right aren’t I?”

  Silence or a yes? She couldn’t lie because he’d see through it.

  “Hell of a dilemma, isn’t it?”

  Before she could think how to respond, the switch struck her upper arms. Trying to protect herself, she gasped and lifted her hands. A thin line of pain sizzled along her right thigh.

  “Back in position, slave! I’m going to keep this so simple even you can follow directions. From this moment on, you will call me Master.”

  Master.

  “Say it, now.”

  He’d leaned back in the chair, looking calm and relaxed, but she knew better. She still hurt where he’d struck her. Besides, what could she do, run?

  No because, insane as it was, she wanted to be with him. Doing this.

  “I’m waiting, but you know I’m not a patient man. Say it.”

  “Master.” She stared at the floor.

  “Not enough. Tell me who I am to you?”

  “M-aster.”

  “Not enough, damn it!”

  Her breasts caught fire. He stuck out his foot and pushed her off-balance so she landed onto her side. Curling into a ball, she risked looking up at the dominating man looming over her.

  This was how her imaginary owner had looked.

  “Master,” she whispered. “You’re my master.”

  “Exactly.” He leaned down and hauled her back onto her knees. “On your hands and knees like the dog you are.”

  Fighting anger and something else, she did as he’d commanded. She shivered when he moved behind her but didn’t dare look back at him.

  “If curs have been abused, they crawl on their bellies. I can make you do that but I’d rather not.”

  He laid the switch lengthwise along her spine with the base on the back of her head. Obviously he wanted her to remain with her head down for as long as it was there.

  She wasn’t a cur. Not yet anyway.

  “That’s better.” He patted her buttocks. “Now, who am I to you?”

  “My master.”

  “Hmm.” He patted her ass again. “At least I am until you can get your hands on a knife or gun—either that or run. Guess what. None of those things are going to happen. Instead I’m going to train you. Make you into what I want.”

  Why is that important to you?

  “I’ll train you to respond to your sexual nature. Eventually that will become the only thing that matters.”

  Promise?

  He was walking away. She heard the whisper of his slippers on the carpet followed by the faint slap of rubber soles on vinyl. He’d gone into the kitchen leaving her to—to wait for her master’s return.

  She would.

  #

  “That, in a nutshell, is today’s lesson. If you’re going to eat, you must first please me. Call it positive reinforcement.”

  No matter that Master—the less she thought about what she was saying, the easier the word came—was waiting for her to perform her trick, she first had to swallow what little pride she still had. Maybe worst of all, she had no idea how long the exercise would last.

  “I don’t want to have to repeat myself, slave. Do it.”

  On the tail of a silent groan, she sat upright, placed her hands on her thighs, and opened her mouth. Her knees ached even more now that she was on vinyl for the second time this morning. “Please Master may I have something to eat?”

  “What have you done to deserve it?”

  The first time he’d asked her that, she’d been at a loss for an answer. Now she knew what he wanted to hear. “I presented my ass to you for your entertainment, Master.”

  “That’s right.” He slid the switch over her buttocks. “And did doing so please me?”

  “I hope so, Master.”

  “But you can’t be sure. Why is that?”

  He’d given her a total of two bites of banana in the maybe ten minutes they’d been in here which was just enough to remind her of how starved she was.

  “Because I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

  His faint smile died. “Oh I believe you do.”

  In the short amount of time she’d been under his control, she’d learned to put all her attention to trying to read his moods. Right now he was both impatient and disappointed. Desperate to win his approval, she mentally replayed what she’d just said.

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Master.”

  “Better.” He nodded. “You’re making progress.”

  He was sitting on a breakfast stool which meant she had to look up at him. Anticipating his next move made her sweat.

  “You asked me something a minute ago,” he said. “What was it?”

  “Please Master I would be grateful if you fed me.”

  “Fed you? Are you saying you can’t do it yourself?”

  Stifling the urge to snap no rendered her incapable of speech. Then something in his eyes, a glint maybe, reminded her that he was committed to teaching her.

  Please show me how to please you.

  “You told me not to use my hands, Master.” She indicated the metal around her wrists and short chain connecting them.

  “Yes, I did.” He rubbed the switch against the side of her neck above the collar that now felt as if it was part of her. “But that was only one half of the terms under which I’d provide you with nourishment. What is the rest?”

  She had to close her e
yes to keep her confusion from showing. She wanted to get onto her hands and knees and present him with her ass, but he’d ordered her to keep her fingers on her thighs. Her mouth carefully neutral, she awkwardly scooted around so her back was to him. Then, fingers digging into her thighs, she lowered her forehead to the floor.

  Would demeaning herself never end?

  Did she want to?

  “Good action on your part, pet.” When he groaned, she guessed he’d stood up. Hopefully, once she’d earned the right to know, he’d tell her what had happened to him and what it had done to him. Let her ease the memories. “There will be times when I’ll expect you to make decisions instead of simply responding to commands. I’m glad to see you’re still capable of doing so.”

  What was he getting ready to do? Whatever it was, it must have something to do with her so-accessible bung hole. Maybe she didn’t want to eat after all. Anything to put an end to this terrible test of wills she was in no position to win.

  More than a test. Fundamental change.

  “Some of the dominants who employ Carnal’s services are fans of the pony lifestyle,” he said from behind and above her. “They want their slaves trained to race and participate in other competitions. Needless to say, part of our training involves teaching slaves to conduct themselves like horses. That includes wearing bits and bridles.”

  She wasn’t hearing this! No way could he be thinking of turning her into—she couldn’t finish the thought.

  “I’ve trained my share of ponies.” He placed his splayed fingers over her buttocks and started kneading them. Confusing her even more. “At the beginning I wasn’t sure I was the right trainer for the job, but I enjoy learning new skills. It gives me—purpose.” He paused. “One of my favorite tasks involved giving a pony a tail.”

  Even before he pressed a finger against her puckered opening, she knew what he was going to do. She whined but didn’t move.

  “I haven’t decided whether I’ll take you down that road. If I do, this is what you have to get used to.”

  No matter that she needed to relax, she couldn’t. Any second he’d shove his finger into that dark and private place. Become part of her.