The Truest Control

It is a difficult thing to discover that you are something you didn't realize you are. Roger had never really thought of himself as a sexually submissive person before, perhaps because he simply had such limited experience with women. Certainly, he might have occasionally thought, in the past, that it might feel nice to be tied up by those dominatrixes he sometimes heard about, or that it might be an appealing thing to be spanked by a woman, but Roger was now in the midst of something entirely different. Liz was a woman who was clearly after much more than just a bit of bondage; it wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say that she seemed to be taking over Roger's entire life. What was more troubling than this, though, was Roger's growing realization that he liked this idea, that there was something inside himself which reacted positively to that idea. If Liz was going to take over his life, he would probably just passively let her do so, because he lacked the will to resist. He was afraid of her, because he was afraid of what she might do, but he was also afraid of himself, of what he might let her do, because it seemed like she planned to take things as far as she could, and he realized that he was too weak to try and stop her. And indeed, why would he stop her? If he liked it when she treated him like this, and it was becoming increasingly apparent to him that he

did

like it, then why would he do anything except let her continue?

And so it was that Roger spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning in bed while his erection dominated most of his thoughts. He wanted so badly to give it a few good strokes; he was certain that if he just took it in his hands and gave it a few solid rubs, he could have an orgasm in less than 30 seconds, a good strong orgasm that would clear his head and help him sleep, but he was afraid of what Liz would do if she found out. She would probably know, and the thought of what she might do if she found out was intimidating enough to Roger that he avoided touching himself. Actually, he didn't really know what she might do if she found out, but it was this fear of the unknown that made it all the more terrifying. Liz had already shown that she had no hesitation about treating Roger badly when she was pleased with him; he had no doubt that if she wanted to punish him, she was capable of nearly anything. It was that realization which kept him obedient, allowing his aching penis to flop back and forth through the night, unsatisfied. When Roger wasn't thinking about how good it would feel to pull off a quick orgasm, he thought about Liz: about the taste of her vagina as she'd gotten herself off repeatedly on his face, about how her foot had felt while it was planted on his head, about how chillingly commanding her voice became when he didn't do things to her liking. And although all of these thoughts served to further arouse him, he couldn't have gotten them out of his head if he'd tried, and so he gave up and allowed these thoughts to spin around and around through the night.

Liz, from her home, watched the whole thing on the camera she'd set up to watch Roger's bed, or more accurately, the bed which was now hers but which she was allowing Roger to sleep on. She was pleased to watch his obedience: it made her smile to see how much he was obviously thinking of grabbing his penis and ending his torment with a few quick tugs, but how a more powerful set of emotions caused him to avoid doing so. It was important to condition Roger so that his impulse to obey her wishes was stronger than his impulse to give himself pleasure. In time, he would learn to associate his own suffering with her pleasure, and when he learned to put her pleasure above his own, then he would suffer for her as much as she wanted. She masturbated as she watched Roger turning endlessly in bed, and she brought herself to orgasm so many times that she lost count of them. It was exactly as she wanted it to be: she used his torment to bring herself one orgasm after another, while simultaneously making sure that he had none.

In theory, they could have continued like this for several nights. Liz would be able to watch Roger through the hidden camera continuously to see if and when he decided to masturbate, but she didn't really see a need to continue in such a fashion. She wanted to start taking over Roger's house sooner rather than later, and she had a bit of concern that if she allowed him to be home alone for too many nights, his resolve might eventually break and he would just masturbate himself to orgasm despite whatever the consequences might be. The first night was important as a test, so that she could see that he was being obedient to her even when he thought she couldn't see him, but Roger was too much of a spineless, weak-willed worm to commit to a decision for very long, and she knew that he would eventually go back on his promise given enough time. It was important that she be there to administer every orgasm he experienced; she wanted to make sure that all of his orgasms were delivered by her rather than by Roger himself, and so when she went over to his house the next night, she packed to stay.

The size of the suitcase which she'd brought with her was not lost on Roger when he let her in the following evening. "What did you bring with you? It looks like you brought your entire belongings," he said, looking at the suitcase with some trepidation.

"Pretty much," she confirmed. "I'm moving in! Isn't that great news, darling?"

Roger had no idea how long couples should wait before deciding to move in together, but considering that he and Liz had known each other for less than a week, it seemed like now might have been a bit premature to start with such a commitment. But what was he going to say about it? He knew by now that there was absolutely nothing he could say to influence the matter, so he nodded in resignation.

Her response was to slap him across the face. "What kind of an answer is that?" she asked sharply. "I announce that we're going to live together, and you just nod like some random stranger on the street was saying hi to you? I expect you to show enthusiasm and appreciation for all the things I'm doing for you, Roger. I want you to show that you're happy about me moving in, and that you want it more than anything else."

"Yes, Liz, I'm sorry..."

"

Queen

Liz," she reminded him.

"Queen Liz, I'm so sorry that I reacted the way I did. Of course I want you to move in; this is the best thing that's ever happened to me." And although Roger was babbling with barely a thought to what he was saying, it was probably true: he'd never lived together with a girlfriend before, and for him to be able to live with a beautiful, passionate woman like Liz was probably the most exciting event of his life. He was worried about what would happen, because Liz had shown herself to be unpredictable, but he couldn't deny that he was glad, too.

"Is it really?" she asked. "Then show me.

Beg

me to move in with you."

"Please do it," Roger said. "Please move in with me."

"Is that how you beg? While standing up?"

Roger paused, then started to get down on his knees. "Wait," she said. "Strip naked first."

Roger complied, and as he took everything off, Liz noted with satisfaction that his penis was rock-hard. It was a useful indicator to her that he was reacting well to what was happening, and that despite whatever he might try to do or say, he was enjoying this.

"Good. Now get down on your knees and try again."

Roger knelt in front of her, his face toward the floor out of embarrassment, and tried again. "Please, Queen Liz, please move in with me."

"How much do you want it?" she asked.

"I want it a lot. I need it more than anything."

"Good. Tell me whose house this is now."

After a pause, Roger understood. "This is your house now, Queen Liz."

"That's right. And that means that you're just a guest in

my

house. Isn't that clear?"

"Yes, Queen Liz."

"That means that I set the house rules, and you have no say in what those rules are or how they are enforced."

"Yes, Queen Liz."

"Good. Now go make us dinner, and make sure you stay naked for the rest of the night."

"Yes, Queen Liz," Roger said, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

While Roger was preparing dinner, Liz went to the living room, bringing her suitcase with her, and pulled a piece of paper from it. She set it on the table, then browsed the Internet on her smartphone until Roger came in with their dinners.

"Good doggie," she said when he came in. "Put the food on the table." After Roger did this, she continued: "I think you're very honored to be allowed to make dinner for me, aren't you, doggie?"

"Yes, Queen Liz."

"Then show me your appreciation and gratitude for being allowed to make my dinner. Come here and kiss my feet while you tell me how grateful you are."

Roger got down on his hands and knees and began kissing her feet while babbling about how grateful he was. The real reason Liz was having him do this was so that she could sprinkle her special powder into his food without his noticing, and she decided that this would be a ritual every night from now on. Perhaps, in time, she would get him to watch her do it, even beg her to do it, but for now she wanted him to not know about it, so she kept him kissing her feet until she had finished, at which point she told him to sit up on the floor.

"I have something for you to sign," she announced, holding up the paper so he could see it. Roger gulped, trying to read the contract that she was holding up, but she playfully turned it away so he couldn't see the text. "Because you trust me, you'd sign it without reading it, wouldn't you, Roger?"

Roger hesitated. Liz smiled when she saw the worry in his face. The contract could have contained anything; anything at all. Roger knew it wasn't smart to sign any contract that the signer hasn't read, but he also knew that saying no would probably just make Liz angry with him, which would be counterproductive because then she'd probably just make him sign it under duress anyway. Liz reached out with her foot and placed it on Roger's still-erect penis which was resting on the floor, then she began to apply pressure on it, crushing it between her foot and the carpet.

"Yes, yes, of course I'd sign anything you want me to sign," Roger said, defeated.

"Good. That's exactly how it should be. You trust me, and you know I'd never have you sign anything which was against my interests, and for you, my interests are the only thing that matter. But it's okay, you don't have to worry: I

want

you to read this contract before you sign it. Go ahead and eat up your dinner, and when you're done, I'll give it to you so you can read it."

They ate as usual with Liz sitting on the sofa and Roger on the floor. Roger had noticed by now that often when he ate with Liz, he began feeling both more sexually aroused and less able to think clearly after the meal, but he assumed this was probably just a consequence of the decreased blood flow to his brain as his body began working to digest the food.

As promised, when they had finished eating, Liz placed the contract wordlessly in front of Roger, and Roger began reading it slowly and carefully:

This is a legally-binding contract between Roger and Liz whereby Roger willingly forfeits to Liz all his rights to make decisions about anything at all. The house located at (here was the address of the house which had, until recently, been Roger's house) now belongs to Liz, and Roger is merely a housekeeper and a guest within this house. All decisions relating to anything, including any and all legal matters, finances, housekeeping, and personal matters are to be made by Liz, and Roger will have no option to either question or resist the decisions which Liz makes. All orders which Liz gives to Roger are to be obeyed immediately and without question. In fact, any decision which Liz makes and any order which Liz gives will be immediately met with approval and pleading from Roger: Roger will not merely accept the decisions which Liz makes, he will

beg

for her to do the things she wants and to carry out and enforce her will. Roger also hereby forfeits his ability to have orgasms of his own volition. Effective immediately, any and all orgasms which Roger has will be administered by Liz. Liz is Roger's only source of orgasms, and she will only permit Roger to have an orgasm when she chooses to do so. Both Roger and Liz agree to this contract freely and of their own will.

Below, there were blank lines where he and she were to sign and date the contract.

Roger was not a legal expert, but he had a pretty strong sense that any contract signed between two private parties, even if they both willingly agreed to it and signed it, was not legally binding if it violated federal or state laws, and a contract like this would surely not be enforceable at a legal level, since a person's right to make their own individual decisions was essentially something constitutionally guaranteed. So Roger was not too worried about signing a contract like this. The part about the house belonging to Liz was likewise not a proper legal transfer of the house's ownership; Roger knew well enough that to transfer the house ownership, they would both need to sign a proper legal title deed, and a "contract" like the one Liz was now expecting him to sign would not affect his legal ownership of the house in any way. This contract was more like a game, a toy rather than something that would hold up in a court, so Roger wasn't really too concerned about it. "I'm done reading," Roger said. "Shall I sign?"

"Not yet," Liz cooed. "Remember, it is my will that you sign the contract."

Roger got it. He had, after all, just read it, so he knew what this meant. "Please, Queen Liz," he pleaded, prostrating himself before her and kissing her feet. "Please let me sign the contract which it is your will for me to sign." Roger's throbbing penis protruded from under him, confirming that he was glad about this turn of events.

"Yes, good little slave, you may sign the contract now." Roger sat up and Liz handed him a pen. He signed and dated the contract, then Liz did the same. Taking the contract and putting it back in her suitcase, she said with significance: "It is done."

"Don't I get a copy?" Roger asked.

Liz laughed. "Of course not, stupid. I'm taking care of all our legal affairs and paperwork from now on. A housemaid like you doesn't get to keep the paperwork to anything." It was important that Roger not have a copy of the contract, because with time, he would forget the details of what it said, and Liz would be able to claim that it contained agreements which it actually hadn't. It was easier to tell people that they had signed a contract for something when they didn't have a copy of the contract available. "You agree, don't you, slave?"

"Yes, Queen Liz, you're right of course." Then, after a moment, Roger remembered: "Please keep the contract and deprive me of a copy, Queen Liz."

"Good boy," she said, patting him on the head and rustling his hair gently. "There's something else I want a copy of. Do you like the idea of being blackmailed, slave?"

What could Roger say? "Yes, Queen Liz."

"In order for me to blackmail you, I'll need something that is embarrassing to you. Something which you wouldn't want anyone else to see."

"Yes, Queen Liz, that's true."

Liz pulled a camcorder out of her suitcase and, with a playful smile, turned it on and pointed it at Roger. "I happen to have my camcorder with me. You remember it, don't you, Roger?"

"Yes, Queen Liz, I think it's the same one you filmed me exposing myself in the park with."

"That's exactly right. That was already some pretty good blackmail material. But I want so much more. I want you to do things on camera so horrifyingly embarrassing that you wouldn't even think about doing anything that might inspire me to send them to your friends or family, or your boss at work."

Roger nodded. "I understand."

Liz rummaged in her suitcase for a moment, then pulled out what Roger recognized as a large dildo. "Have you ever put anything like this in your butt, Roger?" she asked sweetly.

"Um... When I was a teenager, I did play around with putting smaller things in my butt, but I've never had anything that big inside me."

"Good, then this will be a new experience for you. Look at the base of it," she said, turning the dildo around so that Roger could see the side of the dildo which was opposite from the head. It had a large suction cup at the end of it. "Can you imagine what that suction cup is for, slave?"

"Well... I'd guess for attaching it to something," Roger said slowly.

"That's right," Liz confirmed. Then she got up, walked to the wall of the living room, and firmly pushed the suction-cup base of the dildo against the wall so that it stayed there, pointing almost straight out but hanging down slightly due to gravity. "I think you get the idea, don't you, Roger?" she asked with the sweetest smile imaginable, a voice that might have been asking if he wanted to go out and get ice cream with her.

"Yes, Liz...

Queen

Liz... I... understand." Roger was visibly shaking with a combination of fear and something else. But his still-hard penis showed Liz that she would be able to continue to push him.

"Then what do you say? It is my will," Liz reminded him.

"Please..." Roger hesitated, because his voice was shaking now. "Please, Queen Liz, let me impale myself on that dildo."

"Good boy," she said. "I will grant your request. But let me ask you, slave: do you want to do it without lubrication?"

"N-no," Roger said, shivering with a powerful mixture of emotions.

"Then you'd better get that cock well lubricated," she said with a smile. "Show me how you suck a cock, Roger. And you'll want to do a very good job, because your saliva is going to be the lubricant which decides how much trouble you'll have fitting that cock in your ass."

"Yes, Queen Liz," Roger said in a voice that was more exhalation than vocalization. He crawled over to the dildo and was about to begin when Liz spoke up again.

"Just one other thing," she said. Roger turned to look at her, and saw that she was holding a pair of handcuffs, perhaps the same pair he'd spotted in the restaurant a couple of nights ago. "You would already look pretty pathetic doing that on your hands and knees. But I think you would look

so much more

pathetic and slutty and desperate if your hands were cuffed behind your back so you couldn't even use your arms to support yourself. Don't you agree, you little cocksucker?"

"Yes, Queen Liz," Roger said, and Liz delighted in the shame and embarrassment on his face which was nonetheless overwhelmed by his arousal and his drive to obey her.

"Then put your hands behind your back," she said. Roger did as she asked. She paused, smiling at him, then added: "I want to handcuff you."

"Please do it," Roger gasped in an increasingly desperate tone. "Please, Queen Liz, please cuff my hands behind my back."

"Well, since you asked so nicely, who am I to decline such a request?" She giggled as she put the cuffs on.

And then Roger was a worm crawling on the floor, unable to lift himself with his arms, only barely able with effort to lift his head with the limited support offered by his legs. When he rested, his ass would be sticking up in the air, as if he were begging someone to anally fuck him, and his face would drag on the ground. All of this was exactly what Liz wanted, of course.

"You know, when I first saw you in the park, I knew you weren't like other men," Liz reminisced. "I could see right away from your posture, from your body language, from your expression, that you were a man who needs to be controlled. I was right, wasn't I?"