Pathways to Submission: Sally

Foreword

(From Pathways to Submission: ch 1. Sally's Surrender)

As usual for a rainy day, my bus to work is running late, and it is packed by the time it reaches my stop. I work my way to the back of the bus where I can at least stand in relative peace. More passengers board and soon we are playing sardines. I'm in danger of being pushed onto the lap of the man sat in the centre rear seat. Not that he is paying me any attention. Like those sat around him, he is preoccupied with his smart phone.

The bus continues its journey, periodically causing standing passengers to sway and grab hold of the hanging straps. Unfortunately, I've no strap within reach and the handholds on the seats are equally inaccessible to me. I do my best to stay upright without grabbing someone by accident.

A woman in her mid-twenties is standing in front of me. The unspoken rule is for standing passengers to face the front of the bus. Doing so preserves the illusion of personal space where none exists. But this woman is facing the other way, and her penetrating eyes are making me feel awkward.

"I like the way you've done your hair, Sally," says the woman.

"Um... Thanks. How do you know my name? I don't think we've met before."

"We haven't met, but your name badge reveals your name, and your uniform that you work at Trammers," she laughs.

Duh! My clear plastic raincoat reveals my distinctive work clothes underneath, along with my name badge. The store where I work insists employees wear their uniform when travelling to and from work. It's a major inconvenience on wet days as my usual coat isn't long enough to protect my skirt from the elements.

"I thought Trammers had closed down," says the woman.

"Not yet. The store is closing at the end of next week," I reply, recalling that I must make a serious effort to find a new job.

The bus stops suddenly, and I lurch into the woman. She grabs hold of my left arm to steady me while holding onto one of the hanging straps with her other hand. I feel really embarrassed but the woman doesn't seem to mind.

"Here, share this strap with me," she says.

It means I need to move closer, and we are practically touching by the time I can reach the strap. I don't fail to notice that she hasn't let go of my left arm. I feel awkward, but the woman has been kind and I don't want to make a fuss. Consequently, I allow her to keep her hand where it is since she obviously has no intention of removing it from my arm.

My discomfort grows when I realise that with my right arm raised, the top button of my blouse has come open and the woman has a perfect view of my cleavage. I've a decent pair of boobs, but I don't generally flash them about, even for my occasional boyfriend. I need to re-button the top of my blouse, but that's impossible in the current situation. I want to move my left hand to cover my exposed area, but the woman's hand on my arm prevents me.

The bus reaches the congested part of our route, so we will be moving at a crawl for the rest of the journey. I release my hold on the hanging strap and place my right hand across the exposed part of my upper chest.

"I appear to have dropped one of my gloves, Sally," says the woman. "See if you can find it."

"Um... Sure," I reply.

I'm too surprised by her words to do anything other than comply. It doesn't occur to me to say 'look for it yourself' or anything like that. Besides, the woman has been kind to me and complying with her request seems a small favour in return. At least it means she lets go of my arm. I crouch down with my right hand covering my upper chest while I look for her glove. I see it near someone's foot, and I quickly retrieve it before it gets trodden on. Mission accomplished; I hand the woman her glove.

"Thank you, Sally. Incidentally, I think you have a fine pair of tits. You shouldn't be afraid of showing them off."

I'm completely nonplussed by her remark. It isn't the sort of thing complete strangers discuss, and certainly not in public. Fortunately, all the nearby passengers have their noses buried in their smart phones and aren't paying us any attention.

"Um... Err," is all I can manage to utter.

"And you should never get embarrassed about showing off your body," she continues. "A young woman like you should use her body to its full advantage."

The woman can't be more than three years older than me, but she has a commanding presence which makes her seem older. I feel as though I'm in her thrall. She's made me feel awkward and embarrassed, but in reality, she has shown me nothing but kindness.

The bus slowly completes it journey to the bus station. The passengers at the front start to disembark, but it will be a minute or two before those of us at the back can move.

"My card," says the woman, handing me her business card.

I glance at it quickly and my eyes raise in amazement. 'Mistress Penelope, dominatrix' it says along with her phone number. I look up and see that she is studying me intently.

"Call that number at seven-thirty tonight," she says.

"Um... Err," is my pathetic reply.

"Can you manage that?" she asks, more forcefully.

"Yes, okay... Yes," I stutter.

"Yes what?" she responds.

"Um... Yes, Penelope," I reply.

"No, that's not correct. You refer to me as 'mistress'," she commands.

I nod in response but I can immediately tell that she isn't satisfied by a non-verbal reply.

"Say it!"

"Um... Yes, mistress," I reply feeling a mixture of fear and excitement.

Chapter 1

"Yes?" says the female voice on the other end of the phone as soon as my call is connected.

"Um... Hello. Is that Mistress Penelope?" I ask.

"You rang my personal number, so why do you need to ask, Sally?" she replies.

"Um... Sorry... Mistress... How did you know it was me?"

"Firstly you've called me at the time I specified. And secondly, you begin every sentence with 'Um'," she replies. "I like punctuality, but we need to cure you of your bad habit of 'umming'."

"Um... Sorry... Mistress," I reply feeling slightly embarrassed at doing the very thing she said I wasn't to do.

"Don't worry about it now. It's something we can work on. You said Trammers were closing at the end of next week. Have you found a new job yet?"

"No, Mistress. I haven't had time to look properly."

"I'm not interested in excuses. When is your next day off?"

"Um... Tomorrow."

"Then meet me at my workshop at 9:30 tomorrow morning."

Mistress Penelope gives me the address of her workshop and ends our call. I had planned on looking for a job tomorrow morning, but my curiosity is roused enough to postpone my plans so that I can meet with Mistress Penelope. It never occurs to me that I could refuse to meet with her tomorrow.

The address she gave me is a red brick building on a street with a mixture of older houses and light industry. It's an odd place for Mistress Penelope to have her workshop, and I begin to doubt that I've written the address down correctly. The workshop seems to be locked up and uninhabited, but I knock on the smaller of the two doors anyway. The door opens after a few seconds, and Mistress Penelope ushers me inside.

The inside of the workshop is at complete odds with the slightly scruffy exterior. The spotlessly clean large room has been converted into what looks like a play-dungeon. Calling it a workshop is a misnomer. It's like something I've only imagined in my more erotic fantasies. Despite my non-existent experience with this type of equipment, can envisage the sorts of kinky stuff that could go on in here.

"Go through to the office, Sally," says Mistress Penelope.

I do as she instructs. The office consists of a small desk and chair in one corner and a large leather couch taking up the length of one wall. I hesitate to sit down, feeling a confusing mixture of nervousness and arousal.

"Take off your jacket and hang it on the hook behind the door," says Mistress Penelope.

I obey. I straighten my blouse and jeans for no reason other than I want to look smart for her.

"Hmm. You're pretty enough, I suppose. But there are some improvements we need to make if you are going to be my assistant."

"Um... Sorry, Mistress... Did you say that you want me to be your assistant?"

"Yes, Miss Um. You said you are looking for a job, and I'm in need of an assistant. I've decided to employ you. Any objections?"

My mind goes into a whirl. A score of questions flash through my mind, but none make it as far as my mouth. I can't even begin to describe my confusing muddle of emotions.

"Um... No objections... Um... Mistress," I eventually stammer. "If you think I'm suitable. I've no experience at this sort of work."

"And what sort of work do you think you'll be doing?"

I go several shades of red in embarrassment. Try as I might, I can't answer her question. I even contemplate making a run for the door, but Mistress Penelope is standing in the doorway. She has me trapped in this room.

"Let me explain," says Mistress Penelope in a kinder tone of voice. "As you are aware, I am a professional dominatrix. I currently have sixteen clients, thirteen men and three women, who call me their Mistress. Each has an allotted day and time when they come to this dungeon, and I satisfy their particular fetish. Some of those fetishes are easier to satisfy if I have someone assisting me. Which is where you come in. The hours are variable but not onerous, and I'll pay you ten percent of my fee for each client's session where your assistance is required. That's on top of a generous weekly retainer that I'll pay you. For that I'll expect you to clean the dungeon four times a week and see that the equipment is maintained."

"Will I be required to let your clients fuck me, Mistress?" I ask.

"Certainly not! I'm a dominatrix not a prostitute. What goes on in my dungeon is sexual in nature, but no slave is allowed to fuck his or her Mistress. But be warned, there will be those who will want to sample your body, so you need to be prepared."

"Um... Okay. I'll give it a try. When do you want me to start?"

"In ten minutes. I've a male client who will be referred to as 'K' arriving soon. Go put on one of the outfits from the collection in the back room and wait until I call you."

I don't know what has come over me agreeing to such an outrageous proposal. I suppose I subconsciously knew when Mistress gave me her business card yesterday that this is the sort of world she inhabited. And I'd be lying if I denied having a fantasy or two yesterday about being a part of it. But my rapid surrender to her proposal is really shocking and disgraceful behaviour. Or is it? I'm an adult now, so why can't I take a risk or two to satisfy my cravings.

I walk into the back room and look at the rack of sexy leather and vinyl clothing on display. I immediately push my hand into my panties and quickly perform a disgraceful act.

Chapter 2

Mistress has only given me ten minutes to select an outfit and get changed. Now I've the additional problem that I've wet my panties. Perhaps I should have controlled my slutty urges and not masturbated. My orgasm was far more powerful than usual, and I couldn't stop my juices from soaking my pants. Now I'll have to remove them and do without.

I look around to make sure Mistress isn't watching, and I sneak my panties into my bag. I then quickly pick a black vinyl minidress from the various leather and vinyl clothing on the rack. I belatedly realise that my blue casual shoes don't go with my outfit. Fortunately, there's a variety of footwear lined up under the clothes. I select a pair of black high heel shoes. Mistress must take a shoe size slightly larger than me, so I stuff some tissue into the shoe so that I don't walk out of them.

There's a mirror on the far wall, and I take a close look at myself. Wow! It takes all my willpower to keep my hands away from my tits and cunt. I practise walking in these shoes since I rarely wear shoes with high heels.

"Very nice," observes Mistress from the door. "Our client has arrived, and he is changing. I shan't expect you to do much on this visit, but you must listen for my instructions and carry them out immediately. You will need to wear this wig."

"Yes, Mistress," I reply, accepting the wig with long platinum blond-hair tied in pigtails.

"Our client has a fetish for young Scandinavian blonds," says Mistress by way of an explanation for the wig. Her dark brown skin could never pass for Scandinavian, while mine might if you don't look too closely.

"Lift your dress," she says suddenly.

I hesitate, but then realise that this must be a test of her previous statement. I lift the hem of my dress a short way.

"Higher," commands Mistress. "Let me see your underwear."

Disaster! I have no alternative but to raise my dress to expose my bare cunt. I turn red in embarrassment.

"I thought I couldn't see any outline of your panties under that dress. Where are your panties?"

"In my bag, Mistress," I reply. "I had a little accident."

"Show me them," she says.

I sheepishly open my bag and produce my wet panties. Mistress takes one look at them and briefly sniffs at the wet stain.

"You've had an orgasm in those. And within the last few minutes. Open your mouth."

Yet again I simply do as I'm told. Mistress screws up my panties and shoves them into my mouth.

"This will teach you to keep your urges under better control. I will tell you when you may have an orgasm. In future you aren't to touch yourself in any sexual way unless I've given you permission. Is that clear?"

I can't speak with my mouth full of panties so I nod and mumble 'yes' as best I can. Mistress leaves me and returns to the main room. I could easily remove the panties from my mouth, but Mistress hasn't given me permission to do so.

A few minutes later, Mistress calls me to join her and 'K' in the dungeon. I feel nervous, but I don't hesitate to do as I'm bid. Before me is a middle-aged man kneeling on a rubber mat. He's naked apart from a pair of tight leather shorts and a soft leather hood fastened with laces at the back of his head. His eyes are blindfolded so he can't see me. Mistress looks at me to check that I'm ready. She doesn't allow me to remove my gag as much as I'd wish she would do so.

"I have a new assistant, K," says Mistress. "She is going to put on your restraints and tie you to the X-frame."

Mistress indicates the leather wrist and ankle cuffs lying on the table. On her signal, I collect them and fasten them onto the unresisting man's wrists and ankles. They are simple buckle type restraints which are easy to fasten. I concentrate on my work and carry out my instructions as quickly as possible. When the cuffs are fastened, Mistress removes the man's blindfold and indicates that I should take him over to the X-frame standing on one side of the dungeon.

I feel self-conscious knowing the man can see me with my panties pushed into my mouth. However, I don't hesitate to clip the spring clips on his cuffs to the strong metal eyelets fixed to the extremities of the X-frame.

"My assistant is new to her role. She hasn't learned to control her slutty urges, K," says Mistress. "Do you want to smell her panties? She came in them only a few minutes ago."

I'm not sure whether Mistress is trying to arouse K, or if she is intending to humiliate me. Perhaps both. She certainly seems to be achieving both results. She removes my panties from my mouth and pushes them against the air holes in K's hood. He moans and I see a noticeable bulge in his pants that wasn't there a minute ago. He's clearly aroused at the smell of my dirty panties, and his arousal in having a similar effect on me. I want to toy with my tits, but I'm too scared of the consequences if Mistress notices.

Apart from fetching and carrying a few items of equipment for Mistress, my role in this scenario is fairly redundant. I stand to one side of the room, but within sight of K for most of the time. His eyes are constantly undressing me, and his attentions have a strange and wicked effect on me. I really need to masturbate, but Mistress has so far forbidden it. The absence of underwear isn't helping my self-control. Fortunately, Mistress is preoccupied with K, so she doesn't notice the occasional movement of my hands brushing across my tits.

Chapter 3

"How many times did my assistant touch her tits or her cunt, K?" asks Mistress of her client about fifteen minutes later.

"She touched her tits seven times and her cunt once," replies K, betraying my actions which I thought went unnoticed.

"And what is the standard punishment for slutty little blonds who can't control their urges?" she asks K.

"The cane or the whip on the offending part of the body, Mistress," replies K.

I was already in shock at being betrayed for fondling my tits and cunt. The prospect of being caned or whipped on my sensitive parts is more than I can bear.

"Please, no, Mistress," I plead. "I won't do it again. I promise."

"Silence! You are fortunate that I didn't witness your behaviour myself. Had I done so, then your pretty tits would indeed be whipped. But you are new to this role, so I shall let K decide your fate. What do you think is an appropriate punishment, K?"

"She wouldn't play with herself like that if she didn't want to come," replies K, obviously seeing the opportunity for a bit of perverted voyeurism. "Have her masturbate in front of us until she comes."

I suppose I could refuse, but I'm actually feeling aroused at the prospect. I've never masturbated in view of anyone else before, although I've fantasised about it several times in the past. What is giving me an even greater thrill is that Mistress is pushing my sexual boundaries far beyond anything I've previously experienced.

Mistress has me move nearer to the X-frame so that K can have a close-up view. Then she orders me to remove my dress. I wasn't expecting that, but I'm too deeply involved in this game to back out now. I'm soon standing naked apart from my high heel shoes.

"Take a good look at her, K. You will have to imagine the rest," says Mistress, as she replaces K's blindfold.

K moans in frustration but doesn't otherwise resist. Not that he's in a position to do anything else. Then Mistress turns to me.

"You're a dirty little slut. Get to work. I expect you to achieve an orgasm in less than three minutes. But ask for my permission before you come."

I'm in a highly charged state of arousal despite the humiliating situation. My hands promptly go to work on my tits and clit. Within a matter of seconds I'm gasping and moaning as my hands work magic on my eager body. I briefly look at K. He can't see me, but my gasps and moans are having a huge effect on his restrained cock. His tight leather shorts look ready to burst.

Mistress sees that I'm well on my way to an orgasm, and she walks over to K and strokes the outside of his leather shorts. His already rigid cock is redoubling its efforts to burst out of his shorts. My imagination runs wild at the thought of his agonising struggle.

"Don't forget to ask for permission before coming," says Mistress to me when she sees that I'm almost beyond being able to control myself.

"Please may I come, Mistress," I reply.

"Wait."

I obey her order with the greatest of difficulty, and I feel proud that I manage to do so. But moments later I nearly lose control when she unzips the front of K's shorts and removes his cock. His cock is enormous. I know she said that K wouldn't be allowed to fuck us, but at the moment I'm too aroused to object if he did.

"You may come," says Mistress.

I don't need telling twice. I make all sorts of moans, gasps and mewling sounds as I tip myself over the edge into a powerful orgasm. Yet again my orgasm is so powerful as to leak from my body. Normally my orgasms are discrete and only noticeable by a slight jerking of my lower body. This orgasm is a total surrender of my body to wanton lust. Not only is it powerful, it seems to last for ages. Finally I look up at Mistress and K. It seems that I'm not the only one to have just had an orgasm. Whether K needed Mistress's help to come is difficult to determine, and there's no way I'm going to ask.