Zoe - Training a Submissive

Thank you to Zoe for the inspiration for this story.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.

Prologue

I was indulging in the one guilty pleasure in my life -- a long, hot shower. I felt the beads of scalding hot water dancing against my breasts, making my nipples rock hard. As the steam wafted around me my mind started to drift into a dreamy state, thinking about the only thing I wanted to think about -- my submission to my Master.

I've learned that submission, above all else, is a state of mind. As a submissive, it's what I live for. It's beyond a drug. I can't wean myself of it ... it's a part of what defines me.

I dream about his flawless body -- his dark, wavy reddish brown hair, square jaw, broad chest, rippling abs, and muscular legs. And his cock -- his magnificent cock -- thick, veiny, with a prodigious head, stretching the muscles in my throat, pussy and ass. But what's inside him is why I love every part of him. I can see his love for me in his piercing blue eyes. I can feel his love when he punishes me when I'm a bad girl, reddening my ass with his paddle, and when he rewards me when I'm a good girl, bringing me to the brink of orgasm over and over, then pushing me over the edge.

Chapter One

Bess

It was the fall of my sophomore year at Ohio State University. I was pre-med, which meant that I was competing with a legion of other students in organic chemistry for a coveted "A." Everyone in my major knew that organic was the litmus test for medical school. Do well in the class and you'd have the inside track on a spot in a top medical school. Do poorly and weigh your options for a transfer to another major or to go to a medical school overseas.

Organic chemistry was taught by a full professor in a modern, cavernous lecture hall that held three hundred students. The class was then broken up into multiple sections, each led by a teaching assistant (TA), typically a graduate student. After my first lecture I went to my assigned section, going to a circa 1950's building with drafty windows, old fashioned floor mounted radiators and water stained, perforated drop tile ceilings. I was there with twenty other wide-eyed sophomores, eager to discuss the materials covered by the lecture and any lab work we might be assigned to accompany the lecture materials. My heart skipped a beat when our TA came into the room. Little did I know that that day would change my life. That was the day I met Cole.

Cole walked into the room with a supreme air of confidence, carrying a pile of books and armed with an infectious smile. Every set of female eyes (and some male I imagine) were trained on him, wondering how a model from GQ had found his way into the chemistry department at OSU. He wrote his name and contact information on the chalk board, which everyone studiously entered into their phones. I'm not sure I heard a word he said that day. I was already daydreaming about him. My addiction to romance novels foretold the plot -- he would sweep me off my feet, throw me over his shoulder, drive me off in an expensive sports car to his palatial home, and then take me to a land of eternal sexual bliss. Reality set in when he passed out the course syllabus and gave everyone the schedule for quizzes and tests. He wasn't going to be my lover; he was going to be my gatekeeper to medical school.

My roommate, Bess, was a high school classmate of mine who was also going through pre-med. She had already taken the medical school entrance exam for fun, getting a perfect score. I really liked her as a person, but hated her guts for being so goddamn smart. She was sitting next to me when he walked into the classroom and gave me a sharp elbow to my midsection, rolling her eyeballs. If anything, she was more smitten by him than I was.

Bess was a big girl in all respects, at 5'8", she was half a foot taller than me, and likely outweighed me and my slender frame by at least fifty pounds. She had shoulder length curly red hair. I had straight chestnut brown hair that went down to the middle of my back. Since we washed clothes together I couldn't help seeing her bra size, 38F, which was a far cry from my perky little "A" cup tits. She was intellectually brilliant. I had to work hard to do well. I had already seen her ace her finals her freshman year even though she waited until the day before each exam to start studying. Bess, which was short for Elizabeth, her mother's name as well, was the best friend I had ever had. I could talk with her about anything, and she was non-judgmental, even when I talked about my dreams, aspirations and my many kinks. After a few glasses of wine I shared with her that I had submissive tendencies -- that I wanted to be loved by a dominating man -- a man with whom I could share my darkest desires and fantasies, and who could make them come true. I told her that I was already fantasizing about Cole as my Master. Bess was a lesbian, and my outpouring of emotions triggered latent desires of her own. We watched D/s videos together; femdom, mdom, spanking, whipping, nipple torture, orgasm denial and watersports. It was all new to us, and we found these videos to be highly erotic.

I didn't have a boyfriend. She didn't have a girlfriend. You can imagine what happened in the privacy of our two bedroom apartment. We started experimenting with each other. It happened one night when we were watching a video on spanking with an open hand. A fully clothed man was sitting on a straight back chair with a nude woman over his lap. Her disheveled dark hair was dangling from her head. Her tits were mashed against his pant leg. He started the spanking slowly with light slaps, giving her ass a pleasant pink hue. He punctuated each set of blows with light caresses, whispering what must have been words of comfort in her ear. With each set, the blows became more intense, and by the fourth set her bottom was an angry red. Tears were dripping on the floor. You could tell that the sub was trying to suppress her crying. After the fifth set the man stopped. He waited a minute for the pain to fully settle into the young woman, then he forcefully pushed two fingers into her overheated cunt, pumping them vigorously. We could see small droplets of moisture flying around his hand as the sub started to howl and flop about on his lap like a landed fish. He didn't stop until she screamed, the pleasure apparently overwhelming her senses.

I looked at Bess with lust in my eyes. "I'd like to cum like that," I said wishfully.

Bess interpreted my comment as a request, not a wish. "Pull down your panties and lay across my lap," she said.

I looked at her, startled. We had watched dozens of videos together. I would take a shower afterwards and use my hand to relieve the tension. I had no doubt that Bess had done the same. But we had never done anything together. Until that night. I pulled my panties down to my ankles and stepped out of them. Much to my embarrassment, there was a large dark spot on them, which Bess couldn't miss. She sat on her wooden desk chair, patting her lap. I laid across her lap and flipped up my skirt, exposing my derriere. She'd seen it before. As roommates, we had seen each other naked. But not in this context. She first rubbed my bottom, then gently squeezed each fleshy globe, with her fingers "accidentally" skimming the edge of my pucker and my labia. She knew and I knew that this wasn't an accident, though we both pretended it was.

Bess emulated the video, starting with light slaps. I didn't understand the big deal about spanking. I wanted to yawn. "Harder," I said impatiently. I wanted to feel -- really feel something. I closed my eyes and pictured it was Cole's lap I was laying over, and that I was submitting to him. Bess ramped up the intensity of the spanking about five notches, and being a big girl she was able to get some momentum behind the next blow.

"Fuck!!" I shouted, the unexpected pain capturing my full and undivided attention. Before I could object she managed to hit me four more times in rapid succession. I started hyperventilating. Sweat broke out on my brow. I was getting it. Spanking hurt. It hurt a lot. Doubts started to emerge about my submissiveness. Maybe I was a poser, a fake, a dilettante. Maybe I claimed to be a submissive like I claimed to be a ballerina when I was five years old.

But then something magical happened. A warm glow enveloped my body. The same kind of glow you get when you take a shower and wrap yourself with a towel fresh out of the dryer. The world stood still as Bess continued, spanking me and then lovingly rubbing my bottom and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. The pain was more intense. The warm glow was more intense. Then something else emerged -- want -- unrelenting want. I started begging, for what I didn't know.

"Please ... please ... please," I pleaded to Bess, hoping she would know what to do.

She did. She put her thumb on my clit and her middle finger on my asshole. She made lazy circles with her thumb and wiggled her finger, burrowing into my ass to her first knuckle.

"Yessssss!" I hissed, as the dual sensations played the melody and the rhythm at the same time. She was playing me like a finely tuned instrument, making me writhe on her lap as the cocktail of pain and pleasure wreaked havoc on my emotions.

She upped the ante, pushing her finger all the way into my bottom and using two fingers on her other hand to manhandle my clit, peeling back the hood and massaging the hardened nub.

"Oh ... my ... God," I exclaimed, enunciating each word distinctly. I was now picturing that it was Cole fucking my virgin ass. The visual was compelling -- his big cock stretching my tight little pucker. Bess's fingers moved faster, soon becoming a blur. My breathing became ragged. My head started to rock back and forth. My speech became garbled and slurred as the pleasure scaled heights previously unattained.

"OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod," I babbled as orgasm after orgasm ripped through me as if I was made of tissue. A thousand shards of paper fluttered in the air, coming to earth as I struggled to tell myself to breathe. There was nothing ... nothing that prepared me for this experience. All that I could think of is that I wanted more. An endless supply of more. I got off Bess's lap and looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

Bess had other plans. I had just been treated to the best orgasm of my life. We had ventured into uncharted waters. She wasn't a Domme, yet she administered a skilled spanking. I wasn't a lesbian, yet I enjoyed having sex with a woman. Still sitting, Bess bunched up her skirt around her waist, slipped off her sopping wet panties, throwing them to the side, and spread her ample thighs to their fullest extension. She looked at me and then looked at the thicket of curly red hair between her legs.

Message received, I gathered myself and dropped to my knees in front of her. The pungent smell of sex wafted across my nose. Bess reached over and picked up her panties. "Does puppy want a treat?" she asked.

I nodded my head and opened my mouth. She pushed the panties under my nose, covering both my nose and mouth. I had no choice but to inhale her essence. Yes, the damp panties and their earthy aroma stirred something primal in me. She then shoved the panties into my open mouth. I sucked on them, tasting her, and then spit them on the floor. I couldn't help but plunge my tongue into her beckoning wet muff.

"Good ... puppy ..." she choked out. Her eyes were closed and her head faced upwards towards the heavens. I felt pleasure in giving her pleasure. It was an act of submission for me. I made her cum over and over. She pushed me away when she couldn't take it anymore. We were both a sweaty, happy, hot mess. Life would never be the same.

Chapter Two

Cole

Bess and I weren't lovers. We were explorers. We explored the depths of my submissive tendencies. With our meager savings we were able to purchase a handful of toys -- vibrators, nipple clamps, handcuffs and a paddle. We had fun trying them out on each other. It was clear that Bess wasn't a submissive. She didn't enjoy the clamps or the paddle. Anything pain inducing was a turn-off for her. But for me, these devices only confirmed what we already knew. I was a pain slut.

My infatuation with Cole was shared by most of the females in our class. His confident manner and good looks continued to capture our attention (and hearts). He gave off a vibe that only I seemed to feel, sort of a dog whistle at a frequency only I could hear. What was it? I couldn't put my finger on it. It was persistent and omnipresent. It was driving me crazy. Did he know that he had this effect on me?

His distractive qualities affected my work in his class. I couldn't focus. I know this because the grade on my first quiz was a "C+." When he handed my quiz back to me I did what every hormonal woman would do. I cried. Twenty sets of eyes watched me, including Bess (who was sitting next to me) as the tears started flowing. I already had visions of flunking out of college and becoming a slave to some sultan in some Middle Eastern country (which in retrospect sounded pretty appealing to me). I thought my life was over.

Then there was a ray of sunshine.

I felt a big hand on my shoulder. I looked up. He was looking down at me with those soft, baby blue eyes. A lock of his curly reddish brown hair fell on his forehead as he was leaning towards me. I was suddenly speechless.

Cole said in a firm voice, "Don't worry Zoe, it'll be all right."

Suddenly it was all right. I stopped crying and looked at this tall, handsome man with the same eyes that I've looked at him a thousand times after -- that dreamy stare, through eyes that are vacant because I'm thinking about him. I just sat there, silent, knowing at that moment that he would be a big part of my life.

I'm fuzzy on the rest of that day. I'm not even sure what happened in class. Feeling his touch energized me in ways I wasn't familiar with. I was processing this new sensory information, wondering what I was feeling. Bess did shake me a few times, asking me if I was OK. I told her I was.

It would be two more days before I had class with him again. The next day was dead dull. I was simply counting the minutes until I saw him, and those minutes dragged by as if an anchor was attached to each of them. Food was tasteless to me. I fell into a restless sleep at night, replaying that moment in my mind when he touched me and thinking about what would happen in the next class.

The morning of his class I woke up on edge. What was I going to wear? What was I going to say? I attended the organic chemistry lecture and spent most of that time doodling his name over and over on a notepad. Then it was time for his class. Cole didn't notice that I was wearing my favorite blouse with an extra button unbuttoned to showcase my cleavage and a short, tight skirt with heels that highlighted my legs. He walked past me as if I wasn't there. My heart was in my feet. I spent the rest of that class wondering what I had done to become invisible to him once again.

Then, as class was ending, he said, "Zoe, could you stay after for a minute?"

He knew my name. He did know I was in his class. I suddenly perked up. I waited until everyone else left the room, including Bess. As the last person to leave, Bess kept looking back at me as if she was worried about me. I wasn't worried. As Bess shut the door behind her I rose up out of my seat, smoothed my skirt, and walked confidently up to his desk. Cole was sitting on it with his legs dangling and the toes of his shoes scraping the floor.

"So Zoe, I sense there's a connection between us," he said, looking me in the eye.

"There is ... Sir," I said. My use of the word "Sir" was deliberate. If he wasn't interested in potentially dominating me, he would take my formality as a sign of respect. If he was interested, I was clearly signaling it was my desire as well.

He stopped dangling his feet and lifted himself off the desk and onto the floor. He was now standing above me, looking down. "You called me Sir. Are you simply being formal with me, or is there something more?"

Now he had put the matter squarely in my lap. I needed to tell him what I wanted. I needed to take the risk that I had badly misread our situation. "There is Sir."

"How so?" he asked.

I replied with some tentativeness. This was not easy for me to say. Up till now, it had only been a secret between me and my best friend. "I'm looking for someone to tell me what to do ... you know ... in everything."

He raised his eyebrows. "Indeed ... would everything include matters that are sexual in nature?"

I drew a big breath and then spit it out. "Especially matters that are sexual in nature, Sir."

"Zoe, you may have sensed this about me. I'm experienced in relationships with women where I tell them what to do, including matters involving sex." He paused for effect. "Could you kneel Zoe?"

I did, not questioning why he would ask me to do such a thing. I looked at the floor, studying the random pattern in the worn linoleum tiles.

"Zoe, may I call you kitten?"

"Yes Sir."

"Well then kitten, I'm going to teach you organic chemistry. You are going to ace the final. I'm not writing the exam but I know the material better than anybody."

"Yes Sir."

"You are going to be my pet."

"I would like that Sir."

He must have seen that I had a puzzled expression on my face. "You don't know what I mean, do you?"

"Not really Sir."

"You are going to submit to me in every way I see fit."

"Yes ... Sir."

Cole nodded his head with approval. I felt a warm glow about me. The same warm glow I felt after a good spanking.

"Sir, how did you know ..."

"... that you are submissive?" he said, interrupting me and finishing my question for me. "Because I know these things. I could sense it when I put my hand on your shoulder. It felt right for my hand to be there. You addressing me as Sir confirmed my suspicions."

"I ..."

He put his finger to my lips.

"You will talk when I give you permission to talk. Is that understood? I need a verbal answer."

"Yes Sir," I answered crisply.

"Good. Get up and come over here," he said as he turned around to face the desk. "Let's review the last quiz and I'll tell you where you went wrong."

We stood at his desk and spent the next hour going over the quiz. He showed me the textbook passages I needed to review again and went over the concepts to make sure I understood the theory behind the answers. I was grateful beyond words. His patience with me allowed me to absorb the material in ways I wouldn't have if I was left to study by myself. I wanted to kiss him, but he hadn't given me permission.

After we ended the study session he made an invitation to me. "I'm going to have a few people over this weekend. Friends of mine who have the same interests as you and me. Would you like to attend?"

"Yes Sir," I said enthusiastically.

"Good." He gave me the address and the day and time. "I expect you to be punctual. You can wear something like what you have on now. I won't ask you to do anything you'll feel uncomfortable doing, but you will see some people that are practiced in the art of domination and submission. You can see for yourself if you want to go further with me."

He kissed me on the cheek. I blushed.

"Now run along kitten. I'll see you on Saturday," he said. I walked out of the classroom floating on a cloud.