Language Of Submission

The divorce hit her hard. Although she knew what she had to do, get a job, raise the kids, buy food, take out the garbage and all that, inside she felt empty. She tried to overcome the emptiness by finding a job, keeping a spotless house and creating a beautiful yard, but she still felt empty.

She found a job, actually a good job for her. She didn't have to think too much. She was hired as receptionist for a plumbing wholesaler. Easy. She could dress sexy even a little slutty and no one cared. In fact, the men at work seemed to really like her. She got plenty of attention without trying too hard but mostly she was treated like a bimbo and that was okay because that's more or less how she saw herself. Getting her hair and nails done was fun. Shopping deals for clothes was fun. Being a girly-girl was really her only fun. As soon as a workday ended she had responsibilities, life was hard.

Sometimes she drank too much, especially since her two kids moved on to college. She probably spent too much time on the Internet playing chat fantasy with strangers but that did help her deal with her empty feelings. At times a stranger could make her tingle and she really liked to tingle! After all, girly-girls do like to tingle. Drunk girly-girls really like to tingle.

Today was a gorgeous summer Saturday, hot with low humidity, perfect! She went to her daughter's closet and put on an old, pink sundress with little straps and a pair of pink panties with little bows. Yes, it was a little girl's outfit but she liked to feel like a little girl sometimes. Barefoot she walked around the yard inspecting her many flowers and shrubs. A cool breeze made her braless nipples hard and she enjoyed that tingle. She admired all 20 of her bright pink nails sparkling in the morning sun, she simply loved to match her toes and fingers. Her juvenile cotton dress was really a bit small for her womanly 5'6 frame, showing a bit too much 34C cleavage and certainly showing her pretty panties when she bent over to sniff a flower. Who was here to look? Fit and trim, she stayed in shape working out during lunch and paying attention to her diet. She paid attention to everything. Life was exhausting. She appreciated mornings alone like this one, relaxed without any pressure.

Pretty, and positive, she had many offers for dates but she never got into the habit of serious dating.

Men were boring. They were way too nice and afraid to say what was really on their minds. Dating took far too much thought and effort for a pleaser like her. Anticipating what men really meant and really wanted was tedious and overwhelming. Dating women wasn't much better. Certainly, a woman understood the need to tingle but the last thing she needed was the company of another pleaser.

She had her toys and her Internet and today she had a visitor.

"Hello there," she heard a manly voice from behind the fence next door. Turning to look for the source she saw a tall, good looking man standing next to the fence. "Hello neighbor," he said kindly. "Come here so that we can properly meet."

It wasn't a request. That caught her attention right away. Yet it was softly spoken and kind. She walked right up to him and accepted his hand.

"Hi neighbor, nice to meet you. I didn't know someone moved in," she said with a smile. "I'm Sally."

"Sally, I'm Kent," still holding her hand firmly but gently. "Tell me about the neighborhood."

After a few, long seconds he let go of her hand as she told him what she knew. She liked his touch and reached out to touch is strong arms a few times as they spoke. He never asked questions, using expressions like "Tell me about such and such." Or, "Describe so and so..." Gentle commands that urged her to action.

After a few minutes he said, "I must come over for a drink."

She giggled a bit at his directness and responded with, "Yes you must. When would you like?"

"I'm available now," he said quite matter-of-factly.

He opened the gate and walked with her as she told him about her flowers and described her philosophy of landscaping, all at his urgings. At one point he firmly squeezed her hand as they walked.

Later, as she reflected on this encounter she remembered that he seemed to copy all of her poses. When she folded her arms so did he. When she stood with hand on hip, so did he. At the time, however, she did not have this awareness she only noticed how comfortable she felt with him. And yes, every time he touched her she felt a little tingle.

This continued into the house and into her spotless kitchen. He complimented her on her taste and seemed to focus on all of her descriptions.

"It's early in the day so let's have white wine," he said calmly. She poured two glasses.

"Let's sit in the living room," he said. "Lead the way."

As she walked she seemed to move her hips a bit more than normal hoping he liked what he saw. At the same time she wondered what he thought of her pink sundress decision, it was way short and her hard nipples poked through the fabric. Did he like her? "Do you like the wine?" She asked.

"Yes. It is perfect." She beamed from his approval.

As she sat on the couch her dress rode up her thighs. She made no adjustment. She liked showing herself off to him. He sat directly across from her on the comfy chair. They both placed their wine glasses in front of them on the table. Whenever she sipped, he sipped. When she leaned forward, he leaned forward. He never took his eyes off her. She liked this immensely. They spoke for a long time and she felt herself lulled into a most pleasant state of mind.

Throughout their entire encounter he had not asked one question. Only statements. Gentle, positive statements really you could call them commands. She responded quickly and with confidence, doing exactly what he said. Quickly, okay immediately she got used to obeying. In fact, she loved obeying.

"Hand me my glass," he said calmly.

Certainly he could reach it. He had been sipping from it. His tone was not bossy or unkind, just something to do. They locked in eye contact. She leaned forward to stand revealing a full cleavage boob shot and picked up his glass, silently handing it to him. He finished the drink and handed the glass back to her saying, "I'll have another. Serve it to me naked."

Stunned, she took the glass from him and as if in a trance walked back to the kitchen swaying her hips in a most pronounced way. Her mind raced. Naked? Naked? Did he say naked? Her breath became short. Her face became flushed. She poured the drink making a mess, she was so nervous and excited. Sally grabbed a towel and wiped the counter top clean, hesitating, she pulled the pink dress over her head and pushed the little panties to the floor. Quickly she tidied her hair with her shiny nails.

Balls of sweat rolled down her back causing her to shiver as she walked back into the living room. She handed him the glass without a word. Not knowing what to do she just stood there as he sipped. "Good girl," he said patting her on the leg like a dog. "Good girl."

The words of approval made her tingle to her essence. Her smile boomed ear to ear. Her nipples we rock hard and she was certain that she felt her pussy leaking.

"I've been looking for a girl like you, happy to find you right next door," he said confidently. "We will get along famously. You did every, single thing that I told you to today. Everything. You will be at my beck and call, a perfect slut." Sally almost fainted, steadying herself by bracing against the chair. Slut? I'm a slut? No, I'm his slut...big difference.

"Kneel down and give me the best blow job that you can," he said firmly. Again, not an order, simply a statement of his desire. She dropped to her knees, grabbed his belt, unzipped his fly and yanked his pants to the floor. She sucked and slurped and gagged and licked until he filled her mouth with all that she has needed.