Submission

NB: Contains watersports.

My life was all about control. Control over others and control over myself. The always calm composure that makes the difference in the deal or no deal of the business hell I twisted myself around like a snake. What has that control bought me? A sports car that does twenty miles to the gallon and a house with six bathrooms and an occupant of one. I yearned to relinquish that control, to place my fate in the hands of another, to do with as she pleases. I wanted that dangerous thrill, that submission to the unknown and unpredictable, to escape into a black hole of pleasure remote from the stale order of my life and career. And so it was that I discovered Mistress Scarlett.

The internet is a fascinating thing. Fifteen years ago it came into my life with a wealth of imagery that broadened my sexual horizons. Then, with the advent of broadband, came moving images that I spent most of my free time watching and rewatching until it became an almost physical pain to do so. Because I wasn't there, wasn't involved, was only a single man on my own: pathetic and unsatisfied. This frustration led me down the trail to her.

I picked over those images in the gallery section of her website until I had memorised every latex clad curve and could recall them at any point of the day. At first it was just a curiosity but it soon grew to an obsession that distracted me every second of every day. One evening an empty bottle resulted in an appointment being booked and I struggled to sleep in the two weeks that led to that night when I would finally indulge in what I had always craved.

It was dark and threatening to rain the night I stepped up to the door of her domain. My hand trembled as I rang the bell to her house. The street was deserted and quiet although I'm sure the neighbours were used to seeing random men like myself showing up on her doorstep and no longer twitched the curtains to regard her latest conquest.

Through the frosted glass of her front door I watched as a blurry black figure approached. The handle turned and I took a deep breath as the door opened to reveal her standing before me.

Her milky skin was encased in black latex. A tight basque hugged her abdomen and squeezed her ample breasts up and against one another to create a deep cleavage. The basque was attached to long rubber stockings which were thrust into black high heels and she wore a latex g-string. On her forearms she wore long, finger-less gloves and in her right hand she clutched a black riding crop. Her hair was long and dark cherry and she wore it up, contained in a tight bun at the back of her head.

My heart felt seized by the vision before me; my fantasy tantalisingly personified.

Her tongue darted over her rouge lips and her voice, commanding and confident, echoed in the porch.

"Won't you come in?"

Silently, I obeyed, a constricted pain in my trousers as I stepped over the threshold and into her domain.

Her heels clacked on the tiled floor as she walked ahead of me and I began to breathe heavily, adrenaline rushing through my blood stream as I regarded her firm backside framed by the latex suspenders, the cheeks divided by the shining g-string.

I followed her to a sparse living room with white walls and tiled floor, furnished with a black leather sofa and chairs. There was a glass coffee table in the centre on which stood a bottle of blood red wine and two pre-filled glasses.

"Take a seat," her deep yet feminine voice echoed again in the minimalist room, and she gestured with her riding crop towards one of the chairs.

Still without speaking, for I did not know what to say, I sat on the proffered chair, folding my hands on my lap to try to disguise my erection. I don't know why I did that; both of us knew why I was there but I suppose the whole scenario was so alien, so deliciously uncomfortable, that I lapsed into automatic etiquette.

She picked up one of the glasses and drank deep of the wine as she slid her perfect form onto the sofa and folded her legs. She regarded me with her charcoal lined eyes.

"Your first time?" she said after a moment.

"Yes," I responded, a quaver of nerves in my voice, "mistress." I was eager to follow the protocol. She smiled at that.

"Well, I was very pleased to see your specific requests. It's been a while since I've had someone so eager for such humiliation. Understand that making me pleased is exactly what you are here to do."

"Yes, of course, mistress." I nodded, my excitement growing.

"Now, take off your clothes."

I obeyed, removing my jacket, unbuttoning my shirt and laying them over the arm of the sofa as she smiled mischievously at me. As I undid my belt and slipped off my trousers she stroked one long, latex-clad leg with the riding crop. Her eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, as she caught sight of the bulge in my underwear. I placed my shoes beside the sofa and stood before her.

"Those too." She gestured towards my boxer shorts with the riding crop.

I took a breath and slipped my fingers into the waistband of my shorts. I eased them over my erection and slid the shorts down and over my ankles. I felt a natural urge to cover myself but fought against it as I stood proudly before her. My skin began to prickle into gooseflesh in the sparse room.

"Good boy," she purred and sighed contentedly, no doubt considering what she had in store for me. "Now, drink your wine."

I leant forward and picked up the other glass. As I straightened and began to sip from the glass, the riding crop came up to lightly rest upon my balls. I could feel the skin tighten even more than from the cold as the end of the crop stroked my sack and began to slide over the length of my cock.

"You're a big boy, aren't you?" she said and I had to swallow the wine in my mouth hard and fast to respond with a pathetic, whimpering, "Yes, mistress."

"I think we'll start with a few measurements," she said, a giggle in her voice and I watched as she slid like an amorous snake onto the smooth floor. Her latex stockings squeaked as she shuffled forwards on her knees towards my throbbing cock. She turned her head and let my shaft caress her cheek. I heard her take a deep breath, inhaling my scent, before I felt her tongue, warm and wet, begin to trace a trail from the base of my cock towards the end which was a deep red with lust and expectation.

I couldn't suppress a shuddering moan as her ruby lips parted and slipped around the end of my shaft. My cock was plunged into a warm and wet embrace that slowly extended down its length as my new mistress took more and more of me into her throat. Her lips wrapped around me with just the right amount of pressure and I felt her tongue slide beneath my length as the end of my cock extended to the back of her throat. There I was suspended, my eyes closed in ecstasy, the glass in my hand, half-empty, hanging by my side, as she took complete control over me with her mouth. Then, slowly, she slid my cock out of her mouth and swallowed deeply.

She stood up and pushed her warm body up against my own as she took my manhood in her right hand and gripped tightly.

"You really are a disgusting little boy, aren't you?" she whispered into my ear.

"Yes, mistress," I replied.

"Are you ready for your punishment for being such a disgusting little boy?"

I groaned and nodded but cried out with painful pleasure when her hand released my cock and smacked it.

"You will always answer my questions!" she chastised.

"Yes, mistress. I'm sorry, mistress."

Her hand gripped me again.

"Good boy. Now, if my punishment gets too much then you must say the word 'rose'... but if you do, all of this will end. Do you understand?"

I told her I did. She took the wine from my hand and placed it on the table, still holding my cock. Then she led me from the room by my member and through a doorway which led to a wooden staircase. We descended the steps and entered a room of such sordid promise that I almost came in her hand right there and then. She stopped and let me drink in the promising sight before us.

Around the breeze block walls were arrayed a variety of racks and shelves on which stood or hung a multitude of devices of pleasure and sexual torment: cuffs and spankers, canes and floggers and whips, gags and body restraints, nipple clamps, hoods, collars, whips, blindfolds, vibrators, dildos and anal toys. From the wooden beams of the ceiling hung a selection of harnesses and slings, and there were chairs and tables specially designed for restraint and punishment arrayed about the room. In one corner stood a chair with a clear plastic funnel built into the seat over a cushion. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes came to rest upon it.

Mistress Scarlett tugged at my cock and led me over to a rack at one wall, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. She picked up a red and black gag and held it to me.

"I like my slaves' screams muffled. Put this on," she ordered and I brought my hands up to take hold of the straps of the gag.

I placed the rubber bit in my mouth and held it with my teeth. She released my cock and spun me around. She grabbed the straps of the gag behind my head and roughly tightened and buckled it. I began to take deep breaths through my nose as my saliva began to run over the rubber gag.

"Now, restraints."

She smiled and chose a pair of leather cuffs from a shelf. I held out my hands obligingly and she tightened the silver buckles around my wrists. A silver ring hung from each cuff affording her the opportunity to attach me to whichever device of torture she chose from her cave of perverted pleasure.

My cock throbbed painfully with expectation as I regarded the curve of her thighs accentuated by the latex g-string which shone in the dim light. As she fastened a studded collar around my neck, I gazed longingly into her deep cleavage, wishing I could bury my face into it.

Click; a leather leash was attached to my collar and I was truly and utterly hers to command, like a dog. She pulled me towards her, twisting the leather leash around her hand until it was mere inches from my throat, her shining red mouth before my own, her wine-scented breath breezing across my wet lips gaping around the gag.

"Mmmmm," she breathed, "Now you're all mine."

Her free hand found my engorged cock and slowly began to caress it.

"You're all mine. To do with as I please. And I know you've been a naughty little boy, a truly dirty little boy."

Her fingers wrapped around my length and she began to pump my cock as she stared into my eyes.

"All that time fantasising about me and what I could do to you. Well, be careful what you wish for as you are now going to find out exactly what I'm capable of."

She inhaled quickly through her nose and spat in my face. A whimper escaped me, muffled by the gag, and I watched as she dropped to her knees and took my cock in her mouth once more. Without preamble, she began to furiously suck at it, sliding my entire length back and forth into her throat, making hungry groans as she did so. My hands unconsciously found the back of her head and she suddenly withdrew my dick from her mouth when she felt my fingers on her hair. She spat a big gob of saliva into my crotch and slapped my hands away.

"No!" she ordered. "No touching till you are given permission, you disgusting little boy."

She stood up and grasped the leash again.

"You clearly need to be taught some boundaries."

She tugged at the leash and led me over to one end of a waist-high bench in one corner of her dungeon.

"Bend over," she commanded and I obeyed, laying my upper body onto the leather that was upholstered across the top of the bench. She took hold of my wrists and attached the metal rings of the cuffs I wore to metal clips either side of the far end of the bench. I felt supremely vulnerable as her hand stroked my backside, her fingers running down the inside of my leg to caress my balls and cock which now hung down over the edge of the bench.

In front of my head was a floor length mirror in which I could see her behind me as she stepped away from my helpless body. I began to inhale deeply through my nose in fevered excitement as I regarded her retrieving a wooden spanker from a rack nearby and returning to stand behind my prone body, a look of lustful power in her eyes, her tongue darting over her ruby lips.

"Now, you've had some pleasure, it's time for some pain," her words echoed in the brick chamber.

The spanker came sailing through the air with a whoosh and the black and red painted wood slapped into the flesh of my backside. I felt a warmth spread across my right cheek and my balls tightened as an involuntary groan escaped my throat.

"No. You must receive your punishment in silence. Do you understand?"

I released a deep breath and nodded in response. My mistress smiled and giggled mischievously as she raised the weapon once more.

Whoosh-crack! Whoosh-crack! Whoosh-crack! Again and again the wooden paddle impacted with my flesh and I bit down on the rubber gag to contain my cries of painful-pleasure. The feeling in my backside transitioned from a pleasing warmth to an almost unendurable fire and I kept my eyes fixed on her breasts as they bounced within the tight black latex of the basque which held them. It took a great effort not to cry out as she continued to spank my burning skin and I found myself simultaneously wishing her to stop and continue as sweat began to prick from her skin and run down into her heaving cleavage.

Suddenly, it was over and she laid the torturous device on the tiled floor. My breathing was ragged and fast through my nose and I forced my eyes to stay open, to continue to watch my mistress as she kneeled upon the floor.

"Good," she purred, sadistic pleasure evident in her voice, "You did exactly as you were told. Now you get a reward."

I saw her hands move up and disappear behind the curve of my backside and felt her fingers on the raw skin of the backs of my thighs. They were gentle and smoothly slid up and over my cheeks, such a contrast to the wicked pain of before. I felt their tips run into my crack on either side and begin to gently part my flesh, exposing my arsehole. Her tongue flicked out to lick her shining lips before her head also disappeared behind my rear.

My heart began to beat faster again as I realised what was in store and, a moment later, I felt subtle probing which is near impossible to describe. Ever so slowly she pushed her face into my parted backside and I felt a warm wetness begin to spread on my hole as her tongue slid over the sensitive skin of my anus. This time I could not prevent a deep and satisfied groan from escaping my throat as this latex clad angel/devil continued to lick at my arsehole.

Her fingers slid down to my balls and she began to massage them as her tongue cleaned my hole. Her right hand tightened around my manhood and she began to milk it hard and violently as she forced her face deeper into my backside, her tongue now thrusting and probing the inside of my hole.

The pleasure was incomparable to any I had experienced prior. The complete and total loss of control, the reality I had sought was finally being realised and it was enough to make me want to shoot my load into the lap of the woman behind me as she molested me.

Then, suddenly, the pleasure stopped and I was left, beginning to drip with sweat, alone once more as Mistress Scarlett withdrew her face from my backside and dropped her hand from my cock, so close to climax.

I looked into the mirror as her face appeared beside my right thigh, her cheeks and chin wet with saliva.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked, breathing heavily.

I nodded my assent.

"Of course you did." She stood up and looked down at my reflected face with a sort of lustful disgust expressed by a curled lip and a raised eyebrow. "You are disgusting little boy who likes his arsehole licked. You never knew how deep your perversions ran until my tongue entered you. Oh, but there's more. When I'm finished with you you'll realised how disgusting you truly are... and you'll beg for more."

Her heels clacked on the stone tiles and she was lost to sight as she stepped beyond the mirror's gaze. I heard her hum somewhere behind me as she selected some other instrument of torture and her 'aha' as she made a decision. There was plastic click as of a bottle cap being opened and faint liquid squeezing sound. Then the clack of heels returned as she stepped up behind me once more with something in her hand that vanished from sight behind my creamy-pink backside.

"So, first pleasure, then punishment. It's time for a little humiliation."

Her arm moved behind me and I felt a firm probing at my wet hole. The object was warm and wet and my mistress began to apply more force as she slid it into my arsehole which began to grip tightly around the foreign invader.

"Relax your muscles, little boy, or I'll have to resort to the whip."

I took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling my anus relax as she slid the butt plug deeper into me. It was an uncomfortably familiar sensation and I immediately felt like I needed to go the toilet but there was no escape from that bench, fastened as I was by wrists and deference to her power.

The plug slid deeper and deeper and some area of my inside never before stimulated spread a sordid sensation throughout my body to tingle on the ends of my extremities and enhance my erogenous zones. I moaned a deep and primal shame as I allowed, and mentally begged, her to continue to violate me.

The plug continued into my backside and I felt the edge of her palm gripped around its hilt press up against the inside of my cheeks. She leant forward and draped her warm body, wet with sweat, over my back, one hand still forcing the plug into me.

"Yes," her sadistic purr flowed down over my ear, "Mr big shot businessman, all control and power. Well now you're in my domain you dirty little cunt. You're all mine. How do you like it?"

My only response was a moan of incredulous pleasure and she laughed as I felt the probe begin to slide back and forth, back and forth.

"Yeah," she breathed in my ear, "Mr Armani suit. How does it feel to get fucked up the arse?"

She giggled again, increasing the speed of fucking my arsehole with the plug. She took a breath and spat in my face. The saliva forced me to shut my eyes in defence as it landed warm on my eyelids. Then I felt her force the plug deep into me, her index finger pushing the rubber hilt to its full penetration where it remained, its tip probing that area deep inside the sensation of which was taking all rational thought from my mind.

She stepped forward and her fingers came round to unbuckle the gag strap behind my head. She stroked my feverish cheek and my teeth released the rubber ball. I took deep breaths of air sweetly scented with sweat and the sharp tang of the pussy juice I could see was beginning to seep from the edges of the latex thong before my face.

She knelt down and her beautiful lips came forward to brush against mine. One kiss, two... and then her tongue licked my lips like she was a snake scenting her prey. I could only breathe.

She unclipped my wrist restraints and took hold once more of the leash at my neck. With her guidance I stood, the plug still deep inside my arse, and obeyed without thought when she placed a hand upon my shoulder and gently pushed me onto all fours at her feet. Meekly, my mind swimming in a hazy sea of ecstasy, I allowed her to lead me like a dog over to the chair I had spotted in the corner earlier, the chair with the clear plastic funnel built into its seat.

"Lay down," the echoes of her voice came to me out of the fog of pleasure induced by the invasion of my behind, and I obeyed, placing my head onto the black leather cushion beneath the funnel of the chair.