Nici Submits

Before Nicki came out of her bedroom wearing Tom's collar, she had been sitting on her bed, naked but for stockings and stilettos, thinking about what to do. A few months ago she had been a normal young women, trying to make her way in a difficult profession, doing the things she had always done, seeing the friends she had always seen. Then, a chance remark had changed her profoundly. Nicki had been frightened by the white-hot intensity of her desire, and excited by the dark perverseness of her fantasies.

Previously, she had never considered herself a very sexual being -- yet her physical response to the humiliation and abuse that Tom inflicted on her, was too strong to ignore. It had built up inside her and screamed for attention. She tried to think about the future of their relationship. Did he love her? Did she love him? She truthfully could not answer that question. Tom had said he loved abusing her. That was not the same thing as love, was it? But he had also said that he was lucky that she had chosen him to degrade her. He had also said that he would look after her and protect her. So that meant he cared for her. Probably. Did that mean that he loved her? Who knows. What about her? Did she love him?

She needed him. She was desperate for his abuse. That definitely wasn't the same thing. At the moment she was very much the prisoner of her own desire -- yet, because it was her desire, this meant that she was her own jailer too! Complicated. Tom had then made it even more complicated, by giving her a word. Essentially, she was a prisoner, but as her own jailer, she also possessed the key to her freedom. He was right -- it made it much more humiliating for her to know that simply by saying a word, she could end her ordeal. But she knew that though she might one day be free of him, she would never now be free of her desire. How much more humiliating it was for her to know that she had the power to end her degradation - that she was choosing to be abused - and how powerfully and surprisingly erotic she found that humiliation.

Putting thoughts of love aside, Nicki realised that she felt more complete surrendering to Tom than she had ever felt before. Tom had once said that actors should always aspire to live in the 'now', the ineffable present, rather than worry about the past or obsess about the future. When he was using her, drawing a lattice of pain on her white body, she was totally present. It was impossible not to be. As they were both performers, was it possible that they were merely playing roles? Had they perhaps fallen into the roles so completely, that like actors caught in 'the method' they had become the characters they were playing?

Nicki realised that she had turned into a creature trapped in a sensorium, desiring pain and pleasure, driven by humiliation. What was she experiencing, what was happening to her right here, at this moment in time? There was her wetness, an obvious sign of her arousal. Her clit, aching for Tom's touch. The pictures she invented of the humiliation he was going to inflict on her anus that were sending shivers through her whole body. Love might be nice, but her desire was aflame, desperate, paramount. She needed to be used by him, and he needed to use her. That was enough for now.

When she had kissed Tom, on the lips, for the first time, he said nothing to her, didn't applaud her for her choice or thank her for the caress. He had taken her by the shoulders, turned her around, and bent her over the kitchen table, the nipples of her small breasts erect against the cold wood. He had placed her hands behind her head, told her not to move them -- she always felt pinioned by this, unable to move, although she was not physically restrained -- then he had pushed her legs wide apart, leaving her teetering on her high heels, her weight on her breasts, her sex open to him, buttocks exposed, her face against the wood.

Tom unzipped his jeans and entered her from behind, pushing his erect member into her wet and throbbing tunnel. He moved slowly, his penis pushing upwards, massaging the wall between her vagina and her anus. Tremulous sparks of lust exploded in her groin. She started to make little mewling sounds of passion, frantically thrusting backwards onto his firm cock. He slapped her buttocks hard. The pain flared on her reddening flesh, making her movements even more frantic.

"Not yet. Don't move. Stay still."

Nicki fought against her instinct to grind against him. He casually spread the cheeks of her arse to reveal her anus and she felt the terrible flush of embarrassment from this wanton display travel from her sex, to her belly, her breasts and then to her face. Her ears grew hot. Tom picked up the tube of lubricant, unscrewed the lid, and inserted the nozzle into Nicki's tight hole. He squeezed, and Nicki moaned as the cold jelly spread into her back passage. Tom started slowly to massage the lubricating gel deeply into Nicki's anus, using his thumb. Although she was disgusted by what her was doing to her, she started to thrust against his hand. Smack! Another powerful slap. Now two deepening red hand marks on Nicki's pink behind. She could not tell if the exclamation that escaped her lips was pain or arousal.

"I told you not to move. Be still."

He picked up the smallest of the butt plugs, lubricated it with jelly, and started to push it, very slowly, into Nicki's rear, swivelling it from side to side. It felt huge, alien, invasive, wrong, perverse, erotic. Nicki groaned, beads of sweat springing onto her upper lip. Tom pulled it slightly back and then remorselessly and slowly pushed it millimetre by millimetre into her tight tunnel. Oh god, it was too big. She started to feel it hurt.

"Please stop. It's too big. It won't fit... Oh God, take it out..."

For a moment she thought he was listening to her, he started slowly pulling it out, but then he twisted it and pushed it in some more. Nicki felt herself stretching and stretching, feeling impossibly full. Little cramping pains started to flicker from her anus through to her belly. As it entered her, her anal tunnel fought back, trying to expel the rude intruder. The cramps became bigger and bigger, the pain growing inside her as she stretched.

"Oh God, no! Please! It's too big. I'll never take it..."

Again, Tom pulled back, again he slowly pressed it in, this time massaging the wall between her vagina and her anus with his penis. The thickest part of the plug was now entering her, stretching her sphincter. Tom's penis caressed her inside.

"Relax, Nicki. Don't fight it. Concentrate on how it feels, now. Surrender to it."

His voice was hypnotic. Nicki stopped struggling against the intrusion. The cramping sensation died down. Her sphincter seemed to surrender the unequal struggle and she felt herself relax and open, and the butt plug finally entered her completely, her anus closing over the tapering stand, the round stand of the plug flush against her buttocks. God she was so full! Tom's penis filling her wet pussy, the butt plug filling and stretching her where she had never been filled and stretched before. And Tom had seen her anus being distended, stretched and filled at the same time her was using her vaginally. She had never let anyone do this to her before. She was scarlet with embarrassment and hot with shame at the thought of what she had let him do to her. Little shivers were running though her belly, tiny cramping sensations around her anus sending tremors up her spine. She suddenly climaxed violently, floundering, gasping and shuddering. She was mortified.

Tom pulled slowly out of her dripping pussy and hauled her to her feet. Nicki had not felt him come. Had she turned him off with her display? He pulled her over to the big wall mirror and turned her so she could see her buttocks above her long, silk sheathed legs, the round black stand of the butt plug protruding just proud of her cheeks.

"That will need to stay in for a while. Put your dress on. We're going shopping."

Nicki was aghast.

"But it might..."

Going out with no knickers was bad enough, but with a plug up ones anus as well... She was terrified that it would come out, that her body would expel it. With nothing to keep it in, it would fall on the floor! People would see. Just the thought of it made her flush deeply.

"Put your dress on. You may wear the choker if you choose, rather than the collar as we are going out."

She pulled on her dress, in a daze. She reached up to her neck, feeling the collar there. She didn't want to take it off. It was a symbol of their relationship. She would keep it on.

Walking in heels with a plug up one's anus was new experience. Again, she thought ruefully, it would do wonders for her deportment. Tom took her hand and led her to his car, a vintage Jaguar with leather seats. He opened the passenger door for her, and Nicky sat down, very gingerly, wincing at the pressure exerted on the base of the plug as she sat, pushing it further into her, very conscious of her distended rear passage and the strange, exotic ache. She pulled her skirt out so that her naked buttocks were resting on the leather. She felt vulnerable. She felt excited.

Tom got in on the driver's side and closed the door. He started the car and they moved forward.

"Pull your skirt up."

Nicki didn't think she had heard him correctly. They were driving down a busy road. Pedestrians on the pavement. People might look in through the car window. She gaped.

"Pull your skirt up. Now."

She felt her hands go down to the hem. Nicki pulled it up, under the seatbelt, hot with shame.

"Open your legs. Wider."

She felt like she was in one of those terrible nightmares where you were paralysed with fear, unable to move. Tom reached down, grasped her knees, and roughly pulled her legs apart. They continued, onto the high street, Tom's hand between her thighs, his fingers inside her. They stopped at the traffic lights by the station. People were crossing the street, they could see Nicki and Tom in the car. If they were to look in the window, surely they would see what his hands were doing to her naked sex? She cringed with embarrassment, trying to shrink down into the seat, trying to make herself invisible. At the same time, she was getting more and more flustered by her desire, which seemed to be growing by the moment. Her anus ached, full to bursting, small cramping pains travelling up her backbone. She moaned, her cheeks scarlet, hot tears threatening to escape from the corners of her eyes. A truck pulled up beside them. The driver was higher up -- all he had to do was to look down to see what was going on. She wouldn't look up in case she met his eyes. She was horrified. She quivered and groaned.

"You will not come now. You will wait until we get home."

Until he said that, Nicki hadn't even thought about coming. But once he had said it, the ache in her naked pussy seemed to grow and grow. The lights changed, they started to move off again, Tom's fingers probing her vagina, massaging Nicki's sensitive clitoris. Pressure built inside her, she couldn't stand it any more. With a whimpering grunt, she came hard against his fingers, her breath expelled from her body in shuddering pants, her body collapsing against the car seat, nipples as stiff as bullets, her head lolling against his shoulder.

Tom said nothing. He looked at her, and she knew he knew. Oh Lord! What was he going to do to her?

They pulled into the supermarket car park, the early evening winter darkness was eerily illuminated by the orange glow of the sodium lights dotted around the tarmac. The supermarket was in the process of closing -- doors still open, but staff hurrying to pack up boxes of fresh produce. They had about ten minutes before the store would close for the night. Tom got out of the car, opened Nicki's door and she had to hastily pull her skirt down, and then totter on her high heels into the brightly lit emporium. Tom walked swiftly down the aisles to the wine section and started to examine the bottles of champagne. The air from the coolers seemed to target Nicki's skirt, her anus still complaining at the perverse distortion, her snatch throbbing from the attention Tom had given it in the car. She felt dazed. Drunk on sensation.

They were alone in the aisle, apart from a young man of who was stacking boxes of beer further down the aisle. He looked up at Nicki and Tom, smiled and looked away. Tom had a bottle of champagne in his hand, he was reading the label. Without looking at her he said:

"Lift your skirt."

Nicki could hardly believe her ears. Here, in the supermarket? What about the man in the aisle? Surely he couldn't mean for her to expose herself in public?

"There's someone there...", she began. Tom cut her off abruptly. He spoke flatly, no emotion.

"Lift your skirt now. You've earned a punishment for disobeying my orders in the car. You are now being punished for that, and when we got home you will get further punishment for disobeying my orders. Now, lift your skirt."

Nicki looked at the man. He was about ten feet away from them, but perhaps he had overheard the conversation because he was staring at her, open-mouthed. She looked back at Tom in desperation. Then slowly, her whole body crimson with embarrassment she lifted her skirt. The man's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Tears of humiliation started to pour down Nicki's cheeks. He took a step forward so he could get a better view of Nicki's bald cunt.

"Turn around. Show him your arse."

Nicki turned, giving the man a view of the butt plug protruding slightly from her anal passage. Her abject humiliation could not have been greater. Her body started it's traitorous betrayal, wetness permeating her slit, little tremors of desire running up her tummy. For long moments she stood there, the boy gawping at her, his erection clearly visible through his trousers, Tom ignoring her, looking at the bottle. Then he turned and walked away from her.

"Put you skirt down. We're going."

Nicki hastened to obey, tottering behind him on her heels, not daring to look back at the man in the aisle. Why was her body betraying her like this? She was getting wetter and wetter. She wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara, gazing at the floor in misery. Tom paid for the champagne and walked back to the car. He opened the door for Nicki and she winced as she sat down on the plug, her anus aching. They drove back to the flat, her skirt again pulled up, her legs apart, his hand between her thighs, Nicki wondering if she had perhaps jumped into some quantum parallel universe, where gross excitation at perverse degradation was the norm and probity had disappeared out of the window. She was so very afraid and excited by her impending punishment, that she was oblivious to the possibility that people might look through the car window and see what Tom's clever fingers were doing to her gradually reddening pussy lips.

They got back to the flat, Nicki standing in the tiny living room, very aroused, nervously shifting her weight from leg to leg, her anus no longer aching so terribly, but still feeling stuffed like a Christmas turkey. She looked at Tom.

"Sir, I know I've let you down. I'm truly sorry. Please forgive me, don't punish me. I know I deserve to be punished, but please..."

"You will receive six strokes with the tawse. You will accept that you need to be punished, you will ask me to punish you and you will ask properly."

Six strokes! Why on earth had she given Tom the implement? She had resolved to hide it and now... Nicki realised that she was going to be punished, more severely than she had ever been punished before. For a moment she was angry. How dare Tom treat her like this? Then she realised that she had given him every right to use her cruelly. She also realised that she was getting hideously aroused at the prospect. She knew it was going to hurt. She took off her dress, folded it onto the settee, put her hands behind her head, and stood naked in front of her master.

"Please punish me sir. I deserve to be punished. I want you to punish me. Please sir, beat me with the tawse."