Submissive's Journey 04

As consciousness returned, I became aware of flashes of light beyond my closed eyelids. But my body was still twitching with delicious aftershocks from that massive orgasm. So I hung in my chains, eyes closed, savoring each rippling twitch, each drip from my still wet pussy, trickling down my thighs.

Gradually, those quiet flashes of light became intrusive, interrupting my post-orgasmic ecstasy. Thinking about the orgasm, and what had produced it, brought back to my mind those final moments when my cum arced into Susan's face. I felt the hot flush wash through me as the embarrassment of drenching her in such a manner struck home. Of course, there was little I could do about it, hanging helpless in her power. In a way, it was her fault. The corners of my lips curled up in a gentle smile as I considered the fact that she brought that on herself!

But I began to feel concerned how Susan must feel about this, and so I grudgingly turned my attention back to the world around me and opened my eyes, looking for her. I did not have to look far. She was standing right in front of me, and in a few minutes, I would become aware that her clothes were still wet from my spray. What immediately caught my attention was the source of the flashes. Her camera! Susan was photographing me! While I was unconscious she must have gone upstairs and gotten her digital camera. She was taking picture after picture, from various angles.

I screamed, "No! Stop!" Still dangling from the shackles, I twisted to the side as far as I could, almost facing the wall.

But did Susan stop? No. She continued to take pictures, now having an opportunity to photograph my ass. My vivid imagination gave me a crystal clear image of what she must be seeing. A naked whore, chained with her wrists high above her head, body slick with sweat and cum, still radiating the heat and glow of her recent orgasm. Entire body on display! No way to hide anything! And she was documenting it!

"What are you doing?" I cried.

"Recording proof of what a slut you are," she said calmly, with a gleam in her eye. "How would you like the world to see these pictures? How would you like your friends, maybe even your family, to learn that what they suspected all these years is true? That you are indeed nothing but a slutty whore."

My heart almost stopped; my mouth went dry. It is one thing to have a secret fetish – to even delight in it. It is completely another thing to have it made public.

"You wouldn't! You couldn't! We are friends!" I pleaded.

"Correction," she said. "We WERE friends. The last few minutes have changed the nature of our relationship, don't you think? I think that you have a deep need to be submissive and helpless. To have someone dominate you; perhaps even torment you.

"And I have surprised myself at how delicious I find having such power over a beautiful woman, such as yourself. I think I will enjoy dominating you, using you to fulfill my whims. These pictures are the first step in ensuring my hold over you. You will obey me, quickly and willingly, if you wish to keep your secret. That is, to keep OUR secret," and she smiled maddeningly. "I'll give you time to think that over."

She took her camera, went to the stairs and walked up out of sight. I hung there, wondering where she was going with those pictures; what she was doing with them right now. Praying that she was not disseminating them to the world. Then I realized that she was probably not doing that, but putting them somewhere safe, to be released only if I did not comply.

A fit of anger coursed through me – to be caught this way. Anger at myself, for acting in such a foolish manner. Anger at Susan, for taking advantage of my helplessness.

But the anger dissipated quickly. I could not deny how my body reacted to the situation, and I knew my body was only revealing what my heart and mind wanted. Hadn't I dreamed about, fantasized about, being a captive? Being at the mercy of various tormentors? And here I was: a captive.

A shiver ran through me as I realized that I was going to submit to Susan, submit to her will. My body started trembling, wondering what she was going to do to me and with me as she explored this new relationship and sampled her new power.

What I did not learn until much later was that Susan herself was wondering what she was going to do with me. At that moment, she was sitting on her bed, heart pounding in her chest, going over what just happened. She could barely believe that she had threatened me in this manner. Her mind was in conflict; in all probability she would never expose my secret, no matter what she had said. She knew she had been attracted to me for quite some time; even had sneaked peeks at my body when I was changing, or sitting at the breakfast table in my robe. She had never dreamed that our relationship might become one like this.

She had heard the word "dominatrix", but had never dreamed of becoming one. She had no inkling that she possessed such dominant energy! But having tasted the power, the control over me, she realized that she really wanted more, if possible. But not really by coercion; that seemed too foreign to her nature at this point. So she put on a brave face and descended the stairs, trying not to betray her nervousness, trying to keep her knees from shaking, as she approached me again. "So, have you thought it over?" she asked, staring me in the eyes.

My mouth went dry, but I managed to stammer in almost a whisper: "Yes, I will do what you say. Please release me".

Susan was mentally floored at this statement, she told me later. I did not sound angry, or rebellious at all, which startled her. Quickly re-evaluating the situation, she thought a few moments before saying: "You think that is a proper way to address me?"

I gasped, wondering what she meant. I was agreeing to do her bidding, and I asked very politely to be released. I'm sure my eyes widened as realization ultimately struck. I tried again. Hoping that I was guessing correctly, I repeated: "Yes Miss, I will do what you say. Please release me, Miss".

She smiled at that. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized that I had spoken as she wished. As a further indication of the change in our relationship I would be required to call her 'Miss'. I could not help but wonder what she would call me.

Finally, Susan took the key and opened the shackles. I did not realize how weakened I was. As my wrists were finally released, my knees buckled and I started to fall.

Susan instinctively grabbed me and for a few brief moments my naked body was pressed against her clothed one. As I stared into her face, grateful at being saved from being injured, I saw her face change as a new emotion dawned. With a strange gleam in her eye, she slowly lowered me to the basement floor, slipping off her shoe. "Kiss my foot," she said.

I thought that maybe I had misunderstood. I looked up quizzically.

"You heard me," she said. "Kiss my foot and be quick about it".

I shook with humiliation as I slowly lowered my head to her offered foot. I tentatively pursed my lips, prepared to be disgusted by this demeaning act.

But as my lips pressed against her warm foot and I inhaled her earthy scent there, something resonated deep within me. This act of submission struck a chord. It touched something I was unaware of until now; something in the core of my being. Instead of briefly pecking my lips against her foot – my original intention – I found my lips clinging.

I kissed once, I kissed twice. Once I started I could not stop. I didn't want to stop. I found my lips worshiping her foot, something that probably surprised us both!

Susan's voice had a catch in it as she stammered, "Enough! Stop, girl!" Even though the tone of her voice was strained, I recognize the command quality within it.

"Yes Miss," I said. I stopped. But I remained head down, naked, kneeling at her feet, as I waited to be told what to do next. Thus, Susan and I experienced my first act of submission to her. We both knew that it would not be my last.

(continued in part 5)