Author's Foreword—
This is my fifteenth submission to Literotica, and the seventh chapter in my
Male Submissive
series. I recommend you have a read of Chapter Six to understand what's going on in this chapter. All my stories are open for written comments and voting is encouraged. Also feel free to visit my profile to access the archive of my older postings for your reading enjoyment.
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Chapter Seven — The Trainee
Maribel was in a funk.
A week had passed since discovering her boss had a sex slave at her command. She held her silence as ordered upon witnessing the unknown man's naked but blanket-covered body between Brandy's legs as he orally serviced her. The little woman ten years her senior would occasionally catch her gazing at her and Allen during break times. Brandy would then scowl and silently use small movements to mime the action of cracking a whip. Maribel would then blanch, blush quite red and lower her gaze. Brandy would snicker to herself, loud enough for the even more embarrassed Maribel to hear.
At least twice a night, Maribel awoke from vividly sexual dreams depicting herself as the restrained sex slave between Brandy's legs. This usually made her stomach crawl; she was by no means gay and had no lesbian experience or desire whatsoever. She wouldn't even
think
about classifying herself as "bi-curious" because, for her, there was nothing to be curious
about
. Still, the dreams lingered and she wondered why.
She decided to study up on the to-her unknown sexual realm. Maribel entered "sex slaves" into her favorite Internet search engine to see what it would say. Thinking it would be a short fifteen-minute search, Maribel was absolutely floored to see how much information there was to be found! Her planned fifteen minutes turned into five hours.
Some websites helped her understand that she was not a deviant or pervert in the making. Literally thousands of people had similar thoughts and feelings they discussed openly on hundreds of dedicated websites. Though reading those postings and discussions, Maribel came to understand she was a "curious newbie submissive" who had deeply buried feelings awakened by an unexpected incident.
One posting spoke of the author's awakening to sexual submission. The early thirtysomething woman spoke of a time when she was living on a farm in southern Indiana. She was the only girl within a three-mile bike ride and her only companionship was her brother's five friends. Their mother ordered him to take her along with the guys as they went on hikes, bike rides, went swimming in a nearby creek or whatever. The boys took a dim view of this and one time tied her to a tree a few dozen yards from their house. She spoke in her posting about the sexual thrill she felt at being manhandled and overpowered, as well as seeing the bulges in the fronts of their jeans. One of them got the bright idea to see "if girls really are different down there" and they explored under her clothes with their hands. Her brother wouldn't let his friends take down her jeans, but her shirt and bra were quickly pushed out of the way "and no mystery remained for them." The author continued, "hands explored everywhere I had places to explore, and I struggled, panted, screeched and
loved
every minute of it!" The anonymous poster said one of her brother's friends eventually became "my husband and Master because of that day. To surrender to his will is a joy this woman will always crave." Then she went on to describe a startlingly familiar scene—her husband-slash-Master would order her to slowly and lovingly suck his cock while he reads or watches TV. "I would lavish loving attention on his manpole like a living Popsicle while he reads his book, occasionally stroking my hair as if I am his most beloved pet," she wrote. "My knees would ache from kneeling so long, but my Master knows how to reward me for my servitude and patience. When he is done, I know I am loved, cherished and wholly owned by the most wonderful Master a submissive woman could ever have. All my small aches feel far away and insignificant in the glow of his love." Maribel wondered if that female poster was just a really good writer, or if she was for real.
The only she knew to discover this was to approach Brandy.
Doing so, however, was dangerous. It could threaten her job or her relationship with her boyfriend. It could accidentally become public knowledge and get her ostracized. Her parents were devoutly religious; stepping into such a dark and misunderstood fetish might touch off a heart attack in both of them! She could just see her father going into a rant about how "the dark realm of debauchery has claimed my only daughter and made her a disciple to the wages of sexual sin" or something like that.
Maribel stewed for another week, surfing the Internet for every scrap of new knowledge she could find. She found a website that offered BDSM equipment for sale; a copy of the blacksnake whip Brandy had was listed at over one hundred dollars! This much financial dedication told her Brandy was into the lifestyle deeply enough to help guide her through her confusion—
if
she chose to do so.
She had to ask. All she could do was say no.
Bolting down her courage, Maribel drove to Brandy's house. She dragged herself nervously to the door and rang the bell. Her hands, feet and wobbling knees would not be still as she waited for a reply.
Looking annoyed at being interrupted, Brandy opened the door. Maribel took it as a good sign that her boss was dressed in a housecoat with the white high heels she remembered from her last visit here. "What?" Brandy asked bluntly.
"I would like to speak with you."
"Then speak," ordered Brandy, leaning a shoulder on the doorframe and folding her arms. "Make it quick though."
"I can come back another time if you're busy putting your submissive through his paces," Maribel offered.
Something about the younger woman's demeanor and her use of the word submissive made Brandy bite off a retort before it reached her voice. "He can wait," she said, her tone and expression neutral.
"Waiting can heighten his sense of helplessness and thus further your control of what he gets from your arrangement," said Maribel with what she hoped was a knowing nod. "Not knowing who rang the doorbell in the middle of whatever you were doing can give him cause for concern as well. Is that person here at your request? Is that person going to participate? Will that person participate as a Dom or a sub? He has no answers, and his imagination will be running rampant as he awaits your return."
Brandy didn't reply for many seconds, studying the nervous nineteen-year-old throughout.
It sounds like she knows more than the typical vanilla person,
