Submission to an Old Friend

1

They were old friends, from working together 20 years ago, and had shared a lot of life but in a still casual way. Over the years, each of them had changed careers and jobs, divorced and remarried, and seen children grow up. It had been years since they met, although they had emailed and kept in touch online. Her husband had died a few years back, he had divorced again, and the kids were grown and on their way.

He had a business meeting in the northern suburbs, so he called and suggested coffee in the afternoon, a chance to catch up. Like him, she was an older, grayer, and a little bit heavier version of her online profile photo. It took a few minutes to get settled at the cafe, and to run through the 'where are they now?' discussion of people they knew in common. What came next surprised him even as he said it, speaking a private thought.

"You know, a long time ago, when we used to have lunch in the park, I had such a crush on you. Seems silly to say it, but you always reminded me of that British actress, the intelligent one who sort of looked like you."

"Really? You were married to Sarah back then, and we talked about starting a business together. I always thought you were interesting, but you had depths I never saw, it sounds like."

"You were married to Jack, and involved in a lot of community things, we worked together, and it was never something I could mention. But you were always in my mind."

She sipped her latte, and her gray eyes looked at him over the rim of the cup. "I did always sense something about you, maybe just a direction in your behavior, that you might feel what interested me, the exchange of power, not just casual romance. That you might have another side."

His face flushed pink, as he recalled his long ago dreams, and the way he had imagined her body and her taking charge. He still found her intelligent and attractive, and there seemed like less he had to keep hidden now. "I never saw us in a conventional way, a casual affair- it was the power I saw in your eyes, the way you held yourself that was exciting to me, something I still see in you."

She took a last decisive sip and stood up. "David, give me your car keys now, and come with me. You can still take that step, but no discussion." She held out her hand for the keys. He looked up at her, her slim body and her hair now streaked with gray, but a sharpness in her eyes. He reached up and dropped his keys into her hand, then stood up.

She led the way to her car, and he slid into the seat beside her, trying to keep his mind in neutral and not get ahead of himself somehow. She drove a route she knew well, and there was no noise in the car except the background chat of NPR. They did not discuss the theory of submission, or relationships, or limits or safe words. He was left with his thoughts, watching her legs in the long casual skirt as she drove. He had not been to her house since some summer office party years ago, and it had become more overgrown, an older wooden house with shrubs and gardens, at the end of the street near the woods.

When they stopped on the gravel drive, she led the way to the porch, and then turned back to him. It was late afternoon in early summer, with a hum of insects in the quiet garden. "I believe I know what you need, as I think back on what we've sometimes chatted about over the years. Give me your belt."

He was facing her, on the gray-painted wooden porch, his eyes fixed on hers and seeing the depth there. He unbuckled the belt, his favorite brown one with the sterling buckle, and folded it as he handed it to her.

She took the leather, feeling its smooth texture, looking into his eyes. "Now, everything off. Here, outside, if this is really what you want. We are turning a corner here, you know."

He looked from her eyes to her sharp face, and her body hidden in her suburban clothing. With a deep breath, he began to unbutton his cotton shirt, feeling the starchy texture as he worked his way down. He slipped it off, and folded it to the porch, then took off shoes and socks, and unzipped his trousers and slipped them down. As he folded them, he pictured himself in her eyes, over 60, not in prime gym condition, standing on the front porch in his underwear. With a pause, he slipped the briefs down and off, standing naked in the late afternoon sunlight and feeling himself harden at being seen this way.

"Face the house, put your hands on the doorframe, up high."

He braced himself, legs wide, arms spread, leaning his weight forward. Thwackkkkkkk. The folded leather belt on his ass surprised him with its intensity, making him jump as he felt the sharp sting of it, and he was glad to keep silent.

Maria said nothing, but used the strap on his shoulders and back, his rear and his thighs, stinging and hurting him. He felt his cock harden and knew she could see the effect. She used the short folded belt, keeping the buckle in her hand, so the flogging was more a signal to his mind, of the submission he needed to offer, not a harsh punishment. "If you come before I tell you to, this will be over, you know, and you will have to think about what might have been." She used the leather to slap him again, a few harder stinging slaps on his rear.

"You will crawl in my house now, this is something different." She held the dark wooden door open, watching his face. He dropped his eyes down, and went to his hands and knees, crawling across the threshold and then to the stone tile floor and the antique carpet, feeling ridiculous with his hard cock swaying under him. She stepped away, then came back, with a coil of soft rope from the closet. "Roll over."

He moved onto his back and watched as she looped the end of the rope around the base of his cock and wound it around him, made another loop and wrapped it around his neck. His hard cock was encased and held firm, invisible now under the rope. She buckled well used leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and then leaned over him. He realized this was not the domme of his dark dreams, in leather and high boots; he saw the intelligent face of a woman he thought he had known well, with graying hair, thin lips and stylish glasses. She wore a simple cotton blouse, unbuttoned enough to show a hint of cleavage and her firm breasts, and a long casual skirt. She was still dressed as she had been at the coffee bar, he was naked, encased in rope, and cuffed.

He felt the tug as she stretched out his arms and legs and attached the cuffs to something he could not see, leaving him spread wide on the oriental carpet. She was standing over him, and he tried to look up her legs, but she was just out of view. "I want your full attention now, so I am going to cover your eyes. You need to pay attention to every sensation, and not think about yourself. You might get a chance to come later, but focus on feelings for now." She slipped a thick blindfold down over his head, leaving him in a velvet fog.

He could only feel her hands running over his skin, then pinching and rolling his nipples, making them hard. He gasped when something was clamped on them, leaving them in dull pain. When she moved again, he felt her shoes against his shoulders, and realized she was kneeling over his head. He felt her skirt drape over him, as she settled onto his face, and he was lost in her scent and warmth and then in her taste as his tongue began to work.

He stretched his tongue, swirling it deeper, fluttering over her. As he felt the hard ridge of her clit, he licked and sucked and felt her respond. Time stretched out as he licked and lapped her, using the only part of his body that was free to move, and he lost track of the pain on his nipples and the rope wrapping his hard cock. With nothing to thrust against or touch, he had no way to rub himself, and he had to think about the details of her wet, slick body and her feel and taste. When the wave came over her, he felt her shift and press harder to him, and he licked until he felt her shake again, and swallowed her juices.

When she stood up, his face was wet and he was gasping. He could only imagine her body, her legs, and he jumped with pain when she removed the nipple clamps on him. He said nothing as he sensed her move away, and heard the tap of her heels recede into the other rooms. He was left with her taste on his lips, and the sense of his hard cock wrapped and useless now. What he went over in his mind was the shape and feel of her, and how she had responded to him.

2.

When she did return, he was aching from laying on the hard floor, and being bound. She slipped off his blindfold, and he saw she was dressed as before, her face washed and her hair brushed back. He felt the loss of tension as she released the cuffs that held him spread wide.

"Get up." It took him a moment to get off the floor, his joints creaking, and to stand, with his hard cock still wrapped and tied in a nest of rope. She said nothing as she led him by the rope, to the back room in the house, with large windows looking over the yard in the late afternoon sun.

"We are not going to be lovers, you know. What we have here is something quite different, but it could be very strong. Don't say anything, not yet. Use these, and cum for me now." She unfolded her hand and held out crumpled panties, the ones she had worn earlier. With a tug, she loosened the rope and unwound it from his hard cock. She stood next to him, and surprised him with a hard slap on the ass.

"Watch yourself in the dark glass, cum for me now, and don't make a mess."

He looked out at the garden, and saw the reflection of an older man, naked, in a warm living room, with his hard cock in his hand, next to a woman dressed for a casual afternoon. His need was humiliating, and he began to stroke himself, using the smooth nylon of the panties.

As he began to get close, she began to spank him hard, so that as he spurted into the cloth his ass was stinging and the feelings of pain and release were mixed together. When the wave of release had passed, she moved to the large wing chair. "David, kneel here beside me now." He took a few steps forward on the polished oak floor and knelt slowly, naked with his cock soft now.

"I think you see where we are now, and how we can go on. I will be the only one deciding things, and you will be grateful to even be close and to serve me in the ways I might want. For now, it amuses me, to have you like this, to be kept mostly naked and wanting and ready, but not often satisfied. I want you to wear only this belt, your favorite one, as a reminder that you are not a nude lover, you are an available servant of a sort, and the belt will be used on you again."

She leaned down to buckle his own belt over his too-large belly, and then let her fingers trail over his chest and tug one nipple. "This cock belongs to me now, so it is the one thing you are not allowed to touch. If you need to use the bathroom, or to shower, you will need to ask me (or someone) to help you. Put your clothing in the chest in the entry hall, and go hand wash those panties you just made a mess of."

She picked up a book and ignored him and he found his way through her home to do as he was told. It felt like finding the right role.

3.

When the doorbell rang, he looked up in surprise. He was in her kitchen, cleaning up after serving her tea, and doing the hand wash laundry. He was just getting used to being naked, wearing only a belt to mark him as something other than a lover. The bell chimed again, and he heard her answer the door with a sound of low, happy voices. He looked around, with nowhere to go except back into the laundry room, and he froze in place, feeling ridiculous now. He heard the voices move through the house, toward the kitchen.

"...and yes, the garden has been doing so well in this warm weather, better than you would expect for early spring." Marie walked into the kitchen with two younger women, talking happily and seeming to ignore him standing there, bare-chested behind the kitchen island counter. He caught their eyes, and looked down as he felt his face turn red. She was leading them to the door to the deck, and saw them glance at him. "That's just David, he still needs a lot of training, even though he is pretty old. Would you like some drinks? David, bring some iced tea outside for us." She kept walking, but both women smiled when they saw he was naked behind the counter.