Clic to Submit

Foreword:

This is a MF story with a bit of light BDSM, with maledom and femdom in turn. It's unusually light on kink for me, aside from the mind control aspect of course.

Click to Submit

Sasha grumbled as she fished her driver's license out of her clutch. "Why bother asking me to fill everything out if you're just going to demand a selfie of me holding the damn thing?" The plastic sheath made a crackling noise as it reluctantly released the ID card. Turning on her camera, Sasha tried to fake a better smile than the one from the DMV's picture. After snapping the shot, she sighed with exasperation as it slowly uploaded to the delivery app she was trying to register.

Thank you! This helps ensure that your identity has not been stolen, and allows us to maximize opportunities for drivers confirmed to be over 25 years old.

"Yeah, yeah," Sasha said under her breath. "Probably more like it makes sure no one else has stolen my identity before someone inevitably hacks into your database." She jumped slightly when her phone's screen abruptly scrambled into a kaleidoscope of blurry pixels, but in less than a second it seemed to be working normally again. The delivery app confirmed that the picture had been uploaded correctly and indicated that she should click to submit her data. The button labeled 'SUBMIT' was a little hard to read as the letters were displayed atop a multicolored field, so she guessed that the glitch must have been the graphic rendering too large on her phone at first. Grunting, she pressed it with her thumb.

Sasha's eyes watered briefly as the screen glitched a second time, somewhat longer than the first, and the brightness seemed to be turned up somehow. The display went back to normal before she felt the need to correct it, though, and she was gratified to see that her application was already processed and approved.

Congratulations! We just need to collect a few details about your preferences, availability, and geographical limitations before we can assign you tasks. This process usually takes about 15 to 30 minutes, and we recommend finding a quiet place free from distractions before starting. Click SUBMIT when you're ready to begin!

"Sweet!" Sasha exclaimed quietly. "I hope I can make at least a few dollars today, before the bill collectors start getting extra nasty." She walked over to close her window, mostly blocking out the sounds of traffic on the busy street three floors below. With her shabby studio apartment as quiet as it was likely to get, she settled into her ratty, discount-store armchair and clicked the colorful button to begin.

"They really need to hire a better coder," Sasha mumbled, rubbing her watery eyes after yet another screen glitch. Slightly dazed, she quickly worked her way through the three short questions on the first page, clicking SUBMIT when she was done, only to be rewarded with another distracting and dazzling flash of painfully bright colors. "I hope their delivery app is better designed than their questionnaire," she said blearily.

The questions, never more than three to a page before it required her to SUBMIT, started out completely mundane. By the time they were getting a little strange, Sasha was too discombobulated to do more than feel a vague curiosity about their impertinence. There was absolutely no reason that they needed to know her measurements, her dating status, or her sexual experience and preferences. Nevertheless, she typed in her responses, telling them what sizes she wore, that she was between partners, and that she considered herself mostly straight but with some interest in women. From there, things only got more personal.

Have you ever done a striptease or other erotic dance? Have you ever flashed, mooned, streaked, or otherwise exposed yourself?

"No, no. no to all," Sasha slurred, sounding almost drunk as she typed in her responses.

How much experience do you have performing oral sex on men? On women? Do you typically enjoy it?

After pausing to count, Sasha mumbled, "Seven blowjobs; only for special occasions. They were okay. Never on a woman."

How much experience do you have with fucking men? Women? Do you typically enjoy it?

"Not sure about the count, but ten partners. Some I only fucked once or twice; three of them I fucked a bunch. Never past second base with a woman."

You're halfway done! Please take a moment to remove any clothes you're wearing and send us a topless selfie for verification purposes.

Even in her addled state of mind that instruction made Sasha pause and squint at the screen, not quite believing what she'd read. Once she was sure about the meaning, though, she grunted and started struggling to undo the buttons of her blouse. It took a few minutes of halting effort, but she finally removed her last sock and sat back down in her chair fully nude, feeling the scratchy fuzz of the upholstery on her naked ass. It took another minute of uncoordinated effort to align her phone properly to show her face and tits, and she muttered, "Submit," as she pressed the button to upload it.

Do you spit or swallow?

"I usually let them finish on my body somewhere."

Do you like facials?

"I've never had one."

Do you like anal sex?

"I only tried it once. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't fun either."

The questions continued in that vein for some time, but as they were mostly about fetishes and Sasha was a relatively vanilla girl, she didn't have much to say about them. She was vaguely aware that she was drooling, because she could feel it running down her jaw and dripping onto one of her nipples. It kind of felt like she should do something about that, but she couldn't imagine what.

You're almost done! Just a few more questions to go, but first, please send us a close-up picture of your pussy. Make sure to open the lips wide so we can gauge your wetness. If you need to move to a mirror to do so, we recommend crawling for safety reasons.

Sasha grunted with irritation as she slid gracelessly onto the floor. She was kind of glad the app had told her to crawl since she didn't feel like she could even stand up, much less walk. Part of her was embarrassed and annoyed at the indignity of being on her hands and knees, not to mention naked, but it was the safest and most practical means of reaching the floor-length mirror inside her closet door. She did her best to sit up, using the fingers of her left hand to hold herself open, although with her legs splayed wide her pussy lips were naturally parted and glistened in the flash of the camera. "Submit," she muttered again as she sent the photo.

Great job! This helps ensure that you'll have a good time on your deliveries! Just a few more questions to go! Feel free to masturbate while you answer them, but don't let yourself cum!

Sasha stroked her lips lightly while she used her free hand to tell the app about her sexiest outfits, lack of sex toys, and hours of availability. Back when she'd started filling things out she'd hoped to make deliveries in the evenings after her regular part-time day job, but she found herself saying she was free all night, every night.

Good girl! You're at the final step! Just click SUBMIT to register your app and make yourself available for delivery!

"Submit," Sasha said breathily, moaning lightly as the familiar kaleidoscope blasted across her screen.

Good girl! Keep playing with your pussy while we search for offers. Remember, don't cum!

Sasha didn't know how long she'd sat in front of her closet edging herself, but there was a new stain on the carpet when she looked down at her phone, which had just chimed from where it had been forgotten between her legs.

Great news, Sasha! Your first delivery offer has arrived! Click to Submit to the Customer Orders, outlined below.

Sasha scrolled down to see a short list of directions, which included trimming her pubic hair, dressing in a sexy but professional skirt and blouse with no underwear, and travelling to the delivery destination, where she would receive further instructions. Noticing that there was a timer to set out counting down from thirty minutes, she moaned, "Submit!" as she accepted the assignment. Scrambling to her feet, Sasha rushed to her tiny bathroom and started her shower while rummaging for a razor. She wasn't sure how much she should remove, but since it had told her to trim, she eventually decided to neaten the edges like she would in bikini season, then took just a little bit more off to be safe. After a quick wash and rinse of everything else, she hopped out of the shower and scoured her closet for the nicest skirt and blouse she owned.

Sasha was just putting the finishing touches on her make-up, which she was wearing much more heavily than normal, when her phone alerted her to the arrival of a car that would take her to the destination. She paused only long enough to upload a selfie to the app before heading downstairs. The ride itself was uneventful, although she was a little confused at how late it seemed to be. The driver tried a few times to engage her in conversation, but her robotic replies evidently discouraged him, so the last half of the drive was completed in silence.

The car dropped Sasha off at a relatively nice hotel near the business district, at which point her phone chimed with further instructions.

Proceed to room 514. You are a personal secretary travelling with Mr. Evans, your boss, for business. You deliberately made an error on the room registration, resulting in shared accommodations, in order to seduce and fuck him. He may give you any additional instructions he wishes, within the parameters of your contract safety protocols, which you are to obey. Your account will be accredited upon completion of the assignment. Enjoy!

Sasha took a few deep breaths to help get into character, then squared her shoulders and entered the building. She knew instinctively what to tell the desk attendant in order to get a key card, and a few minutes later she was striding into 514 and announcing, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Evans, but the hotel is completely booked. It looks like we're going to have to share this room, at least for tonight."

Mr. Evans appeared to be in his 50s, balding and gray-haired but reasonably fit. He scowled at her from the dinette table where he was working on a laptop and replied, "You're kidding! Couldn't they at least move us into a room with two beds?"

Doing her best to look apologetic, Sasha explained, "They said they have a policy that prevents them from asking patrons to switch rooms, unless both parties come to the desk with the request. They won't call anyone just to see if they're willing to swap."

"Great. Just fucking great," Mr. Evans huffed, closing his laptop with exaggerated forcefulness. "Maybe I should just kick you out for making such an idiotic mistake. You can go begging for a place to stay from one of those other rooms the hotel won't bother calling. At least then I won't have to lie to my wife."

"Please, no, Mr. Evans!" Sasha said, eyes wide. "I'm really, really sorry! Please don't kick me out!"

"Well, maybe not," he said, standing up and loosening his tie. "But you'd better not be expecting me to sleep on the floor just because you screwed up!"

"Of course not, sir!" Sasha assured him. "The bed is yours." Although she feared she might be breaking character, a bubble of her naturally sarcastic and insubordinate personality welled up at that moment, and she couldn't prevent herself from adding, "Age before beauty."

Mr. Evans blinked several times in surprise, and as a wry grin started spreading across his face he said, "You think you're beautiful, eh?"

"Above average," Sasha replied, doing a pirouette that she hoped would give him a tiny glimpse of her charms. Her client's eyes flashed at her display, and she glanced down at his slacks to see if he'd gotten noticeably hard yet. She was a little disappointed to find no obvious bulge and wondered if he was slow to get started, or perhaps just on the small side.

"I think I see what's going on here, now," Mr. Evans said in a low voice as he finished removing his tie. "I should have realized sooner."

"I don't know what you mean, sir," said Sasha, trying to sound both uncertain and coy at the same time.

"I mean that I understand your idiotic plan," he growled, tossing his tie on the bed and beginning to unfasten his belt. "I couldn't help but notice earlier that you weren't wearing a bra today."

"Long car rides tend to make me chafe..." Sasha started to reply, but her client ignored her and continued his monologue.

"And now I can see that you didn't bother putting on any panties, either," Mr. Evans added. "It appears that my office has hired a shameless, slutty, incompetent bimbo for me instead of a capable executive assistant."

Sensing that he wanted her to agree with him, Sasha couldn't help but bicker a little with his assessment. Looking down at her feet and fidgeting for show, she muttered, "Bimbos have bigger tits than I do... sir."

Mr. Evans laughed as he slipped his belt free of the loops on his slacks. "You're probably right. But let me be the judge of that. Open your shirt, slut."

Sasha felt a frisson of arousal work its way down through her skin at the order. She gasped at the sensation, and her fingers flew to the buttons of her blouse, hurriedly undoing them. She grabbed both sides and pulled forcefully, thrusting her chest forward at the same time, nearly moaning out loud while her client admired her heaving breasts. "Not bad, slut," he opined. "But you're right, a bimbo would have bigger boobs."

"I'm sorry for correcting you, sir," Sasha said, mentally kicking herself for continuing to act bratty. Mr. Evans appeared confused, so she clarified, "We're agreed I'm not a bimbo, so I'm just an incompetent, shameless slut, sir." Her client stared at her blankly for a few more moments before chuckling again.

"So you did, slut," Mr. Evans agreed, snapping his belt loudly between his hands. "Such impertinence demands punishment. Bend over and raise your skirt."

Sasha shivered again, delighted to be receiving a firm command. She quickly spun around and grasped her skirt at either side, pulling it up to her waist while bending forward at the hips. Her eyes closed of their own accord, visualizing what she must look like, with her bare ass exposed to the older man. "Submit," she whispered to herself.

"Count them, slut," Mr. Evans ordered as he lashed her cheeks with his leather belt.

"One, sir!" Sasha cried out obediently, her eyes still closed. In her mind's eye, her bubble-butt, which she personally considered her best feature, suddenly had a pink stripe crossing it. More welts appeared as she kept counting, but after the fifth strike she opened her eyes and directed a pointed look at her client. She did it on instinct, but it seemed like it was meaningful to Mr. Evans, as the last five spanks were much softer, mostly just making a loud, fleshy slapping noise.

"Ten, sir!" Sasha moaned. Looking back over her shoulder, she was pleased to see that a respectable tent had been raised in her client's pants. Licking her lips suggestively while she stared at it, she asked, "Do you forgive me, sir?"

"Yeah, for being a smart-ass slut, anyway," he answered. "There's still the matter of your so-called booking mistake, and us having only one bed."

"Whatever you want to do about it is fine with me, sir," Sasha purred, widening her stance enough to show off her freshly-trimmed pussy from behind, slightly open and shiny with juice.

Mr. Evans adjusted himself as he stared at the display, saying, "I bet you didn't bring any pajamas, did you, slut?"

"No, sir!" Sasha said, waggling her hips to keep his attention centered on her sex. "I always sleep in the nude, sir!"

"Of course you do," her client sighed happily, finally releasing himself from his cloth prison. Sasha thought his equipment was pretty ordinary, although the hint of graying pubes at its base was a new wrinkle for her. Overall, she was slightly surprised that his package looked basically indistinguishable from a younger man's goods. "Might as well get ready for bed, then, slut."

Without responding verbally, Sasha straightened up and pushed her skirt back down, then off her hips and onto the floor. She was a naturally tidy person, so she paused long enough to pick it up with her toes and fold it, setting it on the nightstand. Her shirt soon joined it, leaving Sasha wondering how best to get on the bed seductively. Should she crawl onto it, ass up and inviting, or would it be better to roll onto her back and spread her legs? Given how much Mr. Evans had enjoyed spanking her, she decided that being on her knees was probably the best bet. "Delightful," said the client under his breath, running his hands over Sasha's round ass possessively. He removed his clothes and clambered onto the bed behind her, taking his time to explore more of her body with his touch.

"Are you going to fuck me now, sir?" Sasha asked coyly, bumping her hips lightly backwards and causing his erection to slide across her ass. "Tell me how you want me, boss!" She was slightly surprised to feel that her client's cock was sheathed in a condom, wondering when he'd paused to put it on.

"Just like this, slut!" Mr. Evans growled, grabbing her hips forcefully and realigning them until he could thrust his way into her sex. Sasha groaned, only somewhat for show. It had been almost six months since her last fuck, and while his cock wasn't the largest she'd ever enjoyed, the lack of regular sex had things down there feeling rather snug. Her client evidently agreed, as he added, "You're really tight for such a shameless slut!"

"I'm your slut, sir!" Sasha exclaimed, fully engrossed by their rutting. "My cunt is... my cunt is..." she trailed off, partly distracted by the pleasure and partly not confident in her dirty-talking talents. Worried that she was close to breaking character, she cried out, "My tits and my cunt are... your office supplies!"

Sasha cringed internally, certain that she'd ruined the mood, but apparently Mr. Evans had stopped paying attention to her words. He continued thrusting and grunting as rapidly as he was able to, only muttering the occasional 'Yes' or 'Fuck' as their hips slammed together. Every thirty seconds or so he would slow down to catch his breath, but he took those opportunities to caress Sasha's back, breasts, or thighs, which she considered the best part of their tryst. Objectively, she rated it among the better fucks she'd received, as he lasted long enough to give her a small orgasm before he gasped and moaned with his own climax. "Delightful," Mr. Evans sighed again, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes while he recuperated, putting his hands beneath his head.

Sasha wasn't entirely sure if he'd fallen asleep or not, nor was she sure how she'd know when her delivery was complete if the client didn't dismiss her. Surreptitiously, she checked her phone again to review the instructions. Reminded that her character was ultimately supposed to be the seducer in the scenario, she tilted her head in thought. "I should complete the plan," she said with a nod of conviction. Grabbing Mr. Evans' tie from the foot of the bed, she quickly made a couple of loops in it and crawled on top of her client.

"What's going on?" Mr. Evans asked sleepily as Sasha rubbed her naked body against his. He smiled without opening his eyes at first, but when he felt her grabbing his arm and sliding a loop over his wrist he abruptly tried to sit up. That gave her the perfect opportunity to grab the other one, securing him to the wall-mounted lamp just above the bed. His instinctive effort to pull his arms down only tightened the loops.