Possession

Authors' Note: This story is basically a roleplay, so is told in parts; his story in third person, hers in first person.

*

Bryan had worked with Rebecca for over a year. She was perhaps not beautiful in the strictest sense of the word, but her poise and style had caught his eye from her very first day. He'd tried to talk to her, but she was always cool and distant. She was married, and the consummate professional in the office, though never very friendly. Word around the water cooler, however, hinted that she had a whole different persona on her sales calls.

Bryan had never had trouble attracting women. He was tall, athletic, and handsome, with deep blue eyes that communicated his desires quite clearly. He probably could have had any of the women at NexGen, the pharmaceutical sales company where they both worked, but he saw Rebecca as a personal challenge. On the surface, she was a control freak, but he knew the telltale signs, and knew how thinly her cook and directive surface covered an equally forceful need to be controlled, and to be used.

He had worked very hard to achieve a good reputation there, but she was far and away the best salesperson, and quickly surpassed his achievement. His insight into her true nature gave him a pretty good hunch about the reason for her success. Her body was like an overripe piece of fruit. Sweet, succulent, and just begging to be picked. Odds were that she used it as a secret weapon, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he could turn that fact to his advantage.

Rebecca had been in a foul humor, all week. Her sales were down a bit, and today she'd told him off in front of several co-workers when he mentioned it. It should have been humiliating to be spoken to like that, but he now saw it as the challenge it was. She was "acting out" outlandishly - waiting for him, or for someone, to cut her off, to force her to behave herself properly. She might not even be aware of it, but he knew she was testing, looking for a dominant to take her to task. He knew then for certain that she was at a tipping point, and that this would be the time; the tension needed to bring her into line.

He followed her to her car when she left for a sales call, intending to have it out with her once and for all. But before he could rap on her window, he saw her rooting around inside her blouse, and realized that she was taking her bra off. He paused as she threw it into the back seat, and then watched as she hiked up her skirt, peeled off her panties, and threw them in back to join her bra.

Clearly he was right about the secret of her impressive sales record. He followed her to her appointment, thinking this might be the opportunity he had been looking for. He had planned to wait for her, and confront her after her "meeting" when she was likely to be more receptive, but she was evidently in a hurry, because she raced into the office building without her sample case. When he looked in her car, sure enough it was still there, next to her cast off underclothes, and she had forgotten to lock her car. He quickly let himself in, grabbed the panties and bra, and her very expensive sample case of pharmaceuticals. He left a carefully phrased note propped up on the dash.

"Only sluts go on sales calls with no underwear. If you want your underwear and samples back, you will do three things. 1) Text me at 555-1378. Make it sexy; you obviously know how. 2) Call work. Tell them you're ill, and won't be back today. 3) Go home, and you'll find your bra and panties on your back porch. The samples will stay with me for a while longer. Take off your dress, and put your bra and panties back on. Then text me again, telling me you're ready for further instructions."

My sales call went well - not that I expected any different. Amazing what a tight slinky dress with nothing underneath will do to motivate doctors, even though I usually have to allow a little groping. And if I occasionally have to kneel and use my mouth as additional persuasion, so much the better. Truth be told, I love it, and it is totally empowering to control a man without him even realizing it. So yes, my spirits were soaring as I sashayed back to my car, short silky dress swaying gently across my bare bottom.

When I arrived at my car, however, I felt my carefully constructed little world begin to come crashing down around me. My bra and panties were gone, as well as a very expensive case of pharmaceutical samples, for which I was personally liable. In their place was a note, outlining a list of things I must do to retrieve them, starting with sending a naughty text. My head literally spun, as I sat in my car, frantically trying to assemble a plan. I am no stranger to flirty texts, but my entire life was at stake here. Not only would I lose my job, but my husband was insanely jealous, and had hinted many times that if he ever caught me with another man, he would beat me black and blue. Sweat droplets began to form, and rolled between my breasts as I carefully constructed my text message.

"I like games, so as I drive to my house, I'll have one hand on the wheel, and the other between my legs." Nothing could be further from the truth, as I was more frightened than I had ever been, but I thought it sounded like something that would get a blackmailer going. The most chilling fact of all, though, was that he clearly knew where I lived, as the next step in my instructions was to go home. Our house is in a fairly remote area, but the note had said that my bra and panties would be on my porch. It looks out towards a wooded area, with nothing but glass on two walls, and screen on the third. There, I was to take off my dress, put my undies back on, and send another text to the phone number on the note.

I drove slowly, my mind racing, but arrived home without coming up with an escape plan. Luckily, my husband was still at work, and I had followed my instructions, and called my boss, saying I didn't feel well, and wouldn't be back. I simply had to retrieve those pharmaceuticals, or I would lose my job, and maybe even face prosecution. We didn't necessarily need the money, as my husband had a good job, but being fired would mean I would lose my independence. I would probably even have to ask him for pocket money. I was also trying very hard not to think about the blackmailer's evidence that I had been a very naughty girl, and the fact that I might very well be exposed.

On shaky legs, I climbed the steps to the back porch. Sure enough, there were my bra and panties, on the table where we usually ate breakfast. I had my instructions, and not that much time before my husband got home, so I took a deep breath, stepped closer to the wall of glass, and pulled my black silk dress over my head. Immediately, I felt my nipples harden, although it was quite warm on the porch. My breasts are quite large, 38D, and I have always been proud of them. Now, in spite of my fear, it felt quite erotic exposing myself to a stranger, even one who obviously meant me harm. I laid the dress carelessly to one side, and stretched my arms over my head, knowing full well that this move accentuated my best asset. Then I let one hand slide down to my freshly waxed pussy, gently teasing out my clitoris, as my other hand pinched a nipple.

Obviously, my sales call had left me with unresolved need, but I shook myself, realizing this wasn't the time, and reached for my bra and panties. Surely I had given my unknown blackmailer enough of a show, and with as much grace and dignity as I could manage, put my bra and panties back on. The last step in my instructions was a second text message, asking for further instructions. I sent it, trying hard to sound humble and sexy both, although the humility part was definitely not in my nature. As I sat down to wait for an answer to my text, I realized that my black lace thong now had a wet crotch...

He had picked his spot well. The view was unobstructed, and he took pictures of not only her tits and pussy, but of her touching herself and pinching her nipples too. This was the side of her that he'd always expected was there, simmering beneath the surface. He knew that the prim façade of a married woman that she hid behind at the office was no longer something with which he had to be concerned. It was time to see just how far he could take her with the right encouragement, starting with a reply text.

"So far, you have shown that you know how to do as you're told. Is this something I can expect in the future too? We don't want to have any setbacks in getting your samples back, correct? So just to be sure that you are going to follow orders, I want you to go inside your house and get your dog's collar and leash. You will put this around your neck, with the leash attached, and remove your bra and panties. Then you will go upstairs and get your favorite sex toy. You will come outside again only wearing the collar, leash and your heels.....you will position yourself on the back porch and you will masturbate to full orgasm. When you have finished this, you will submit yourself to me and explain that you are my pet and I am your owner and this leash expresses exactly that. You will then tell me how easily and how hard you came for me knowing that my leash and my collar was around your 'owned' neck. Lastly you will tell me how long until your husband will get home, and beg me to come visit you and take hold of my new pet's leash to enjoy my ownership of you and your body."

He paused for a moment as he watched all her facial expressions, as she read all the information he had sent. He could see her hesitate, so he sent another text simply saying, "Do this NOW or our deal is off!!"

Being from the country, I have always heard the expression "deer in the headlights", and have seen plenty of them for myself. Now for the first time in my life, I knew exactly how they felt. I knew what I had to do, but so many thoughts flooded my brain that I stood rooted to the floor, unable to move. I had already realized that there was no way out of the mess I had gotten myself into, and was afraid to even try to imagine how far it would go. My fear of being exposed was almost overwhelming, but worst of all is what happened when I read the text. It felt like this man had reached out and slid his fingers across my clitoris, and the moisture threatened to run down my legs. I have always been independent, even though I use my charms to get what I want. And yet, there I was, weak in the knees at the idea of being owned by a stranger, and a blackmailer, at that.

Realizing that all I was doing was postponing the inevitable, I pushed myself slowly out of the chair, and walked into the house, in search of my collie's old collar and leash. She was at the vet getting shampooed, so that was one less thing I had to worry about. Vanity dies hard, and I stood in my bedroom in front of the mirror, slowly taking off my lace bra and panties. I knew that my breasts were beautiful, and usually the first thing men notice about me. I pivoted, though, and examined my ass in the mirror. Nice and round, with sharp tan lines where my bikini starts. My hair is long and straight, with blonde highlights from the sun. I sighed heavily, because this was the same body that had made me the top sales rep at my company, and now it seemed to be a tool for the blackmailer to use against me. I slowly fastened Lady's collar around my neck, and attached the leash. I was almost afraid to look at my reflection, and when I did, I felt a new surge of warmth between my pussy lips. Angry with myself and my body's reactions, I grabbed my vibrator from the bedside drawer, and hurried back downstairs.

Telling myself that I was only doing what the man wanted, I knelt on the porch, and then put my hands on the wooden floor, quite near the windows. "He'll want to see me on all fours" I assured myself, but deep down, I could not deny that it excited me, as well. I turned the vibrator on, and slowly slid it between my legs, rubbing it along my clitoris, which had been swelling since the text. My heavy breasts swung freely under me, and it didn't take long before my vibrator was slick with natural lubrication. I rose to my knees, deliberately turned my ass towards the glass, reached behind me, and inserted the device. Slowly. I dropped back down, supporting myself with only one hand, and worked the vibrator in and out my pussy with the other; gently at first, but gaining speed as I neared orgasm. Usually masturbation is a difficult thing for me, and I have to fantasize for quite some time before I can make myself climax. That day was a totally different story. I was wildly excited by the collar around my neck, and the very real knowledge that someone was out there watching me. Someone who intended to own me, whatever that entailed...

When I began to cum, it was almost frightening in its intensity. My legs gave out and I collapsed on the floor, as wave after wave of spasms washed over me, threatening to submerge me. After a few minutes, I realized that the vibrator was still clenched tightly in my pussy, and I gingerly removed it, triggering another set of small shock waves. I would have loved the freedom to lie there and recover peacefully, but my husband would be home at five, and I had more work to do if I wanted to preserve my way of life. I was covered with sweat, and it felt as if there was a river running between my legs, so I just pulled myself up to a sitting position, leaned against a chair, and reached for my phone. I didn't have to think about the text message for very long.

"Sir, I am yours, to do with as you please. As you saw, the feel of my collar and the knowledge that you own me made me cum faster and stronger than I ever have. My husband won't be home until five. Please come and take your new pet by the leash and enjoy your ownership."

He had been watching her from the edge of the porch, just outside the door, his phone forgotten in his hand. Face to face with images of her he had only imagined in the past. He watched eagerly as she first speared herself with her vibrator, and then worked it deeper and deeper between her legs as her passion took her. He was close enough to see her tight little pink asshole puckering and her large and shapely breasts sweeping the rough wood of the floor as she pushed the vibrator deeper into her pussy.

He watched as the first droplets of wetness began to drip down her thighs until she gasped, clenched and heaved in climax. The first orgasm he had given her with his words, with his orders. She was delicious, and he knew that she was now his. He was frozen, his hand in his pants as he watched her take up her phone to text him, breasts still flushed and heaving from her exertion. He ignored the buzzing of his phone as he reached to open the screen door of the porch. Her face was still slack in lust, but she jumped a bit, turning to him as she heard the door open.

He was only 2 feet from her, standing over her as she leaned against the bead board knee wall of the porch. Her eyes followed up from her phone, to his knees, then up his body, eyes locking on his. He said nothing, merely holding out his hand and waiting for her to hand him the end of her leash. The first order, unspoken that it was, but far from the last.

With her eyes fixed upon his, and with him standing over her, his hand nearly filled her vision. There was no doubt in her mind what he was saying.

The leash was his.

She was his.

She was to hand him the leash, because she was his to control; his pet, his slave.

This moment had already been decided. She was his the moment she willingly put on his collar instead of calling the police about his blackmail. Not because she was a fool, far from it, but because from the moment of his first text she realized this was what she wanted, what she had been begging for in the offices of all those doctors. She wanted to be controlled, to be owned, to feel the release and freedom of being a pet on a leash. His Pet. His Leash. She held the looped end up to him, saying only that her husband would be home at 5, but denying him nothing. Ready to accept whatever he would decide. Happy to finally surrender control.

He twisted the leash in his fist till it was taut, pulling her up, away from the wall. She scrambled to her knees as he slowly reeled her closer and closer, till there was only a foot or so of leash, and only a few inches between her naked body and his, still fully clothed. He pulled up on the leash so she would have to look up at him, still saying nothing as he unzipped his pants. He pressed his thumb to her lips, pressing until she opened her mouth, holding her by the jaw, and by the collar in his other hand.

"This matters more than your husband or your career" he said, holding her mouth open just inches from his cock, close enough that she could see the crystal clear droplet of pre-cum seeping from its tip. "Tell me what you want, how you want it, and maybe I will take you " he said, "or tell me this isn't what you want, and that you are not my pet, that you do not want to be a slave for my use, and I will leave."

Between the hand holding my chin and the hand holding my leash, I was forced to stare at his face. The same face that I had seen virtually every day for a year, and yet had never really seen at all. Obviously I had underestimated him, and now I was going to pay the price. My mind was in turmoil, and although I knew he was waiting for me to speak, I had no words. What I did have was a beautiful, rigid cock, close enough to taste, clearly ready for my touch. I eased closer to it, opening my mouth wider, suddenly desperate to possess every inch of it.

I saw his hand move a split second before I felt it. He slapped me across the face. Not hard enough to injure me, but if it wasn't clear before who was in control, I had no doubts now. "I asked you a question. Answer it. Unless you want me to walk away now, you no longer have the right to decide for yourself." Tears began to sting my eyes, and not from the slight stinging pain in my cheek. I needed him to take me, and make me his own. I was desperate to be his, and the very idea of him leaving, just when I had realized my heart's desire, was unbearable.

"Please don't leave me? Take me, use me, make me your pet." A wave of relief washed over me, as if by finally uttering the words, I had cast the die, and put myself on the path I was always intended for. I thought I detected a faint look of triumph on his face, but I was given no time to savor it. He pulled the leash again, and suddenly, his cock was in my mouth.

I wanted to lick the head, using my tongue to learn exactly what he liked, but once again I was graphically reminded of my lack of control. With one hand on the leash, and the other on the back of my head, he forced himself all the way to the back of my mouth, and even down my throat. I began to panic, as my airway was cut off, but just as I began to struggle, he pulled back a bit, allowing me to take a breath.

"Don't fight it. You are my pet now, and you have to be trained. If you relax and follow my instructions, it will be easier for you, but you will learn how to please me, regardless." Any other woman might have thought his words cold and cruel, but a fresh surge of moisture between my legs proved that I was not one of those women. I knew instinctively that if I was obedient, he would give me more pleasure than I had ever had in my entire, self-centered life. I gazed up at him, nodded my head slightly, and let him fill my mouth again, claiming his property.

After working beside her for year, knowing that she needed to be properly controlled, it was gratifying to feel her lips and tongue caress his cock. He could feel the start of her surrender, her resignation, even her growing realization and acceptance of his mastery. But it was not enough to erase the months of waiting. Months when she had ignored him, and kept giving herself to others. Months when she took it on herself to let others use her body, a body rightfully his, without his permission. Months believing she was in charge.