Lessons In Submission Ch 01

Glancing at the clock on my desk, I realize it is past time to head home. I gratefully rise from my desk, gather my things and start down the hall, my heels creating a powerful staccato that bounces off the walls, my head held high and straight. People seem to naturally step to the side to allow me to pass. I'm really not a "hard-nosed bitch", as some have said, but I have to know what I'm doing and do it well.

I feel the tightness and tension between my shoulder blades, working its way up the back of my neck. I hope I don't end up with another tension headache. I'm starting to think I live my life on antacids and pain killers.

I make it across the parking lot and to my car, slip into the driver's seat, crank the air conditioning up and look around. There is nobody around or watching so I pull the pins from my hair and allow myself to slump across the steering wheel. Just five minutes of decompressing is all I need before I attempt the drive home.

I doubt any of my colleagues would even recognize me right now. The ramrod straight back, serious face and tight smile are gone and left in its place is a weak woman right on the verge of exhaustion and tears. A few deep breaths and I collect myself and begin the short drive home.

Pulling into my designated parking space, I moan to myself. My best friend, Anna, is here and, while usually I love to see her, I've had the week from hell and just want a glass of wine and a bubble bath.

I enter my apartment and smile at how well she knows me, my glass of wine is sitting on the kitchen counter just waiting for me. I grab my wine and join her on the balcony to see what the heck is going on. Anna smiles innocently at me... and I know she's up to something.

"What?!" I demand impatiently.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?" she replies.

I think hard and then remember... oh no, not tonight. Stupid blind dates, I hate them but this one has been planned for a while and I can't let her down after all the times she's stood by me. I grumble and head towards the bathroom, making snide comments about intruding friends and how if this date doesn't work out she's going to pay dearly. She just laughs and begins to lay clothes out on the bed for me.

I notice she's laid out my black, sheer teddy trimmed in red satin ribbon and immediately go into "No way" mode. She just laughs and says "oh yes, I am certain you'll be happy for it later tonight". Rolling my eyes I give up and head on to my shower. I don't have the strength to argue anymore today and just because I'm wearing it doesn't mean I have to show it to anyone. The truth is that it makes me feel girly and pretty so why the hell shouldn't I wear it? The steamy water seems to be relaxing me, or maybe I'm just too tired to fight the force of nature that is Anna.

I step gingerly out of the shower and begin grilling Anna about this oh-so-perfect mystery man. If he's so perfect then why is he going on a blind date with me, of all people? Anna seems uncharacteristically closed mouth about my blind date but does take the time to flip her phone around to show me a picture of him. Oh heavens, is he yummy. I'm now absolutely certain she's neither told him much about me nor shown him a photo of yours truly.

I'm starting to get very nervous. I wish I hadn't seen Mr. Yummy at all and then I could've just been happy with basic makeup and shrugged it off as just a blind date. But Mr. Yummy was, well, Yummy and I find that I want him... really want him!

The thought makes me squirm a little and I chide myself for being ridiculous. I have a firm rule that I never have sex with a guy on the first date, but then again, I have never gotten all juicy and hot over a stupid cell phone photo either.

This could prove to be an interesting night. I take a little more care with my appearance, carefully outlining my full lips in ruby red then allowing Anna to do that makeup magic that makes my eyes look all smoky and mysterious. I slip into the sinfully sexy teddy and then a little black dress, thigh high silk stockings and black stiletto heels.

Anna stands back and, after telling me to turn around a few times, declares me ready. She gathers her things and begins to leave, telling me that he will be there any minute to pick me up but refusing to tell me where he plans to take me. As the door clicks closed behind her I suddenly feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. Oh heavens, what have I gotten myself into now?

I barely have time to acknowledge the nervous twist of my stomach before there is a knock on the door. I open it to Mr. Yummy, a sweaty Mr. Yummy in workout clothes? Really?

He brushes past me and heads straight for the bathroom, apologizing along the way that he didn't have time to shower before leaving the gym. After the shock of this strange man just barreling through my door begins to fade, I slip into indignant mode.

"Excuse me," I say in my haughtiest tone, "Just WHO do you think you are?!"

Mr. Yummy pauses at the bathroom door and turns around slowly and gives me a head to toe once over before asking "Weren't you expecting me?"

"Well, yes," I reply.

"So Anna did tell you I was coming?" He asks.

"Well, yes," I again reply.

Then Mr. Yummy proceeds to walk back to me and gets very close to me before saying in a voice so calm and quiet I find myself leaning towards him to better hear, "Then I believe I'm the man that has been asked to remove the rod you seem to have shoved up your ass. Now, I'm going to go take my shower and you're going to sit right there on the end of your sofa and wait for me quietly. Do I make myself clear?"

You would think someone like me would have a witty comeback or simply punch the man in the face but I did neither. To my own mortification, I simply nodded yes and then went to sit down as I was told. I have no idea why I did it, and by the time he came out of the bathroom I was still pondering the situation. At least I was past the point of opening and closing my mouth like a guppy while I gasped for breath. I am still not sure if it was a panic attack or sheer excitement. Nobody EVER spoke to me that way before, certainly not some complete stranger!

He walks towards me again and I quickly take in the way his wet hair is curling at the collar of his shirt and think how he smells like me now. Well, like my soap and shampoo anyway. I emit a nervous little laugh at that thought and get a very interesting look from him. He lifts his hand and brushes his thumb across the little indention on my forehead that always appears when I'm concentrating too hard on something.

"Relax," he commands in that honeyed voice.

I smile shyly up at him and again wonder at my behavior. He holds his hand out to me and I take it softly and am rewarded with a small lift of his lips in a smile that can only describe as a cat that caught the canary.

Mr. Yummy then begins to talk to me, telling me how he had a nice evening out planned but after meeting me he has decided that the time would be better spent at the house. He lets me in on the secret that my friends have set this up because, as much as they love me, my need for constant control and command of all situations is wearing their patience thin.

This information stings, but I know in my heart it's the truth. Mr. Yummy continues to tell me that he is going to teach me how to let go of control and release my inner desires and dreams, to scream my needs out loud instead of locking them inside and hiding them back from even myself.

I look steadily at him and my eyes must be big as saucers as he continues by telling me that this is a lesson. We will not become lovers, we may fuck but we will never be lovers, and the lessons may continue until we are both satisfied that I have learned the lesson sufficiently. He states that I will not be able to contact him at this point and that he will keep tabs on me in his own way and will be there to give me a lesson when it is most needed.

I am just absorbing it all until he asks if I am able to agree to his terms, then I stammer my reply, "I don't know, how are you going to teach me these 'lessons'?" Ha! There it is! I knew I had a voice!

"Well," he replies, "you will have to just trust that I know what I'm doing. Remember, this is all coming about because you think you must control everything. Now, do you agree to my terms?"

There it was again, this person who is me but refuses to act like me replies, "Yes, Mr. Yummy, I'll agree to your terms." Oh NO! I did NOT just call him Mr. Yummy out loud? Hearing his small chuckle I know for certain that I did. He then tells me that "Sir" is how I will address him from this point on. I'm too mortified to do more than nod.

He reaches up and thumps the indention on my forehead and says in a firm voice, "stop frowning and the proper response is Yes, Sir. I cannot hear rocks rattle, girl."

I tremble slightly and let out a timid, "Yes, Sir."

He draws his hand down to my neck, resting it lightly there as his thumb brushes against my skin softly and gives me my first "good girl", I practically purr for him. Oh my, I am sunk. I am already realizing I would follow this man anywhere he wished to lead me.

And lead he does... straight into the bedroom. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think I should be resisting, but I'm too intrigued by this man and too anxious to see what sort of lesson he may have to teach me.

He begins to make his demands, "Turn around, hands on the back of your head, legs shoulder width apart."

I acquiesce without comment; I just can't seem to help myself. I feel his fingers brush my skin as he lowers the zipper down the back of my dress. I shiver and every pore of my skin seems to respond to that slight touch.

He pushes my hands down to my side and slides the dress off my shoulders. I can feel the graze of his thumbs against my ribcage as he peels the dress down my body. The feel of them through the thin teddy adds to my excitement. Then my dress is puddled around my spread ankles.

I stand perfectly still, nearly holding my breath in anticipation of his next touch. But instead I feel something slightly cold, hard yet soft, clasped around my neck. It takes a minute to register, and then I realize a thick leather collar has been wrapped around my neck and only react when I hear the click of a leash being attached.

"I am not a damn dog!" I gasp angrily.

He wraps his hand tightly around my neck, squeezing gently and pulling me back against his hard body until I am immobile. I feel his breath graze my ear as he says, in that calm quiet voice, "You are what I say you are. You will be whatever I desire you to be. Understand?"

I gasp out a squeaky and timid, "Yes, Sir."

What else could I possibly do? The feeling of my juices dripping slowly down my thighs would've answered for me anyway.

He releases the pressure on my neck and uses the leash to lead me across to the bed.

"Lesson one," he says, "from this point on, you belong to me. When I require it, you will present yourself for inspection by me in the appropriate manner."

He then pulls the leash and walks around the bed, steadily pulling my upper body across.

I listen intently as he gives more instructions. "Get on the bed, spread your knees shoulder width, place your face on the bed and keep your ass in the air."

I follow the orders, knowing full well he will immediately see the soaked crotch of my delicate teddy. I blush a little but keep my face pressed against the bed, again desperately waiting to feel his touch again.

It finally comes, the gentle slide of the palms of his hands along my spine, sliding down my back from my neck, over the dip of my waist and the swell of my hips. I feel myself relax, my body submitting to this man, this virtual stranger. He speaks to me like no one ever has before, and yet I not only respond, I crave it.

His hands continue their gentle torment, grazing the lips of my pussy through the teddy, sliding down the insides of my thighs, then reversing the journey. I have never felt so exposed, nor so proud. This man is enjoying my body, touching it the way he wishes, laying claim to it. Who knew giving over such control could feel so good.

There is a pull and a quick ripping sound as he shreds the thin crotch of my teddy, and, before that even registers in my mind, I feel his fingers plunge into my wetness. I gasp, and then nearly scream in frustration as he removes his fingers from me completely. Again, I am lost without his touch.

"Do you feel how wet you are for me, girl?" He asks. "When you think of me, when you hear my voice, when you receive a message from me, you will be this wet. Do you understand, girl?"

I manage to mumble another, "Yes, Sir" through the trembling betrayal of my own body.

And then there is silence, I wait quietly, slowing my own breathing down as I strain to hear his next command, his next words.

But all I hear is the click of the door as it closes behind him. I lie there quietly in confusion, until I hear the ping of my cell and the text message from a blocked number...."Lesson one, successful."

I feel a fresh wave of dampness on my thighs and smile to myself, indeed it was.