Lauren Sterling, 41, is a single mother whose daughter, Serena, is leaving for college. At 21, she had an affair with her professor, Damien Grayson, resulting in pregnancy and estrangement from her rich parents. She works as a waitress at Café De La Rue and does freelance editing to pay for Serena's college. She lives above the café in a small Victorian-style apartment in the town of Lisadelle, Illinois. She rents from her boss, café-owner Clara Henshaw. Dating her boyfriend Travis for three years, she's unsatisfied but fears loneliness. Lauren is a six-foot-tall goddess with dusty pale skin and 32HH breasts that are even now only just beginning to sag. Her luscious curves scream "breed me." Her dark, striking features include perfect red lips, powerful blue eyes, and long black eyelashes, with a hint of masculinity that intimidates weak men.
Serena Grayson, 20, is Lauren's daughter by Damien, who abandoned them. Ambitious and bookish, she's moving to Illinois State University for college. Recently sexually active with her first boyfriend, Dave, she's developed quite the appetite for his 6-inch cock. Serena is more petite and bubbly than her mother, at five foot four, with perky C-cup breasts and pointy nipples she often shows off bra-less. She has long light brown, almost blonde hair with rough messy bangs, long legs, and a charming devilish smile.
Professor Damien Grayson, 53, is Lauren's former lover and Serena's father. After the scandal ended his teaching career, he became a ruthless corporate lawyer. Now wealthy and powerful, he's dominant and seeks a submissive wife. He views women as sluts to be used and abused. Damien is six foot four, with broad powerful shoulders, arms, and a deep commanding voice. Despite his age, he's in incredible shape, with a personal trainer, nutritionist, chefs, and a gym. His beautiful big white cock is nine inches long and eight inches in girth, with a thick uncut head, and he's an expert lover.
In Chapter One of "Lauren's Submission," Lauren Sterling, a 41-year-old single mother, prepares to send her daughter Serena, 20, to college. Living above Café De La Rue in Lisadelle, Illinois, Lauren works as a waitress and freelance editor, estranged from her wealthy family since her affair with Professor Damien Grayson at 21 resulted in Serena. Damien abandoned them, and Lauren now dates Travis, an unsatisfying boyfriend. As Serena leaves, sharing candid sex talk with Lauren, the day ends with Lauren spotting Damien--now a commanding, wealthy lawyer--outside the café after 20 years, stirring old passions and setting the stage for conflict.
...
Chapter 2
Lauren Sterling was sitting on the square black vinyl elbow couch in the lounge room of her old second-floor apartment. Sitting across from her was Damien Grayson, her former professor and the father of her child. He was still dressed formally from whatever he had been doing that day, whoever he had been meeting with. His hair had only just begun to tinge with gray, and he kept himself in good shape. He was both tall and broad, even though now he was sitting forward on his seat, a little hunched over. Lauren hadn't seen him since he left her with their newborn baby twenty years ago. She had worked hard to raise their daughter, Serena, all alone. Now here he was, sitting in her lounge in the middle of the night.
"So, I let you in. I'm sitting here. What do you want, Damien? What could you possibly want?" Lauren asked impatiently and resentfully.
"What do I want? The only thing I don't already have--you, Lauren." Even now, he was so powerful, so commanding. It made Lauren shiver a little. Damien continued, "After our affair, after little Serena became public knowledge, I had to quit my job at the university. I haven't worked in one since. I went out on my own as a practicing lawyer, and I did very well for myself. It wasn't always easy, but eventually, I managed to start my own firm with another partner. I'm a rich man, Lauren, a rich and very powerful man. I can have anything I want. If I want a house, I buy it; if I want a car, I buy it; if I want a woman, well, I'll have her one way or another. But there's never been an end to the willing volunteers. There comes a point where a man of my age and position needs something a bit more than that. The one thing I don't have is a family--a wife and daughter. A nice, perfect, obedient wife and a high-achieving daughter. Of course, you've never been obedient, and you're getting on a little to be a sufficient trophy for a man like me, and yet, I'm willing to give you a chance. You've done the child-raising; by everything I've heard, you've done an incredible job. You seem to have done well enough for yourself; you should feel proud. But now, it's time to come take up the role you were always meant for--to be my--" Lauren cut Damien off.
"What the ever-living fuck is wrong with you!? You abandoned me. Abandoned our daughter, then you track me down, follow me to my home, and knock on my door in the middle of the night!? Are you fucking insane? I'm not going to be your wife. Your fucking trophy. Get the fuck out of my house before I call the police. No, now I mean it." She shouted down Damien's protests.
"You can't be serious. Speaking to me like that, do you have any idea what you're throwing away? A house, servants, cars, jewelry, whatever you can imagine," Damien said, affronted.
"No, I don't want to hear any more. Get out, get out now and leave me alone. I don't want to know," Lauren said, on the verge of breaking into tears. Damien stood up and adjusted his collar.
"Alright, I'm not here to beg. If this is what you think you want." He got up and went to exit but stopped right in the doorway and fished something out of his pocket. It was a small black notebook with a pen attached. He wrote something in it, tore out a page, and left it on the stand in Lauren's hall. "This is my number and where I'm staying, for when you change your mind." And then he was gone, just as suddenly and devastatingly as he had shown up.
Once again, Lauren could barely sleep. This time, she called Clara early in the morning and told her she was sick and couldn't make it in. Clara was furious and demanded that, sick or not, Lauren come see her upstairs for dinner.
All night and all morning, Lauren fixated on Damien. She was stuck in bed, twisting and turning, running over last night in her mind. At first, in anger, imagining all the ways she could dress him down, but then her thoughts turned--all the ways he could dress her down. She had always loved teasing him, but her favorite part was always at the end when he would take his revenge. The way he pounded her--it wasn't only that his huge, magnificent cock fit her like a glove, hitting all of her spots at once. It was the way he pounded her, as if he hadn't even the slightest concern for her at all, blowing her back out with reckless abandon. He made her cum a lot, but that was of little concern to him. She was built for him; built to serve such a perfect cock, a perfect man. She could tease him, sure, but he always put her in her place. It was hard to admit to herself, but when she was there, in that space--her face slammed down into the bed or even the floor, her ass up and back arched for him--it just felt right.
Fuck, she had to catch these thoughts; they were dangerous. She couldn't be his wife; that was out of the question. She couldn't live up to the demands he wanted. She had worked too hard to be independent. She had raised Serena. She couldn't be his wife. Still, would it be so bad, so dangerous, just to call him? Just to catch up a little. Serena deserves to know a little bit about her father. She had to admit she was curious too. The fact that he was rich--well, he had never been poor, but maybe now he could contribute now and again to some of Serena's expenses. Yes, that would be a fair reason to call him. She couldn't call him for herself; no, she didn't want to call him for herself. She didn't need him, but for Serena. She had to call him for Serena. She couldn't make the choice on her daughter's behalf. He probably hadn't been all that serious anyway. If he's done enough research to track her down, he probably knows she has a boyfriend. How would Travis take this? It probably wouldn't even faze him. He wouldn't see what precarious position this could put their relationship in. What did she need that big, fat, juicy, straight cock--no, no, she couldn't let herself think about that. She had Travis, Travis and his little antennae of a dick. If he could get it hard properly, she might be able to be satisfied with it. Who was she kidding? It wouldn't ever be enough.
She dialed. He answered. They made plans to meet down by the Festival Plaza on the riverfront. There was a nice French café down there that would be quiet at this time of day and served alcohol--that was important. It was a nice day to be skipping work. It was the pleasant sort of hot and clear day permeated by a luxuriously cool breeze. Lauren decided to walk to the café. She looked in the long mirror in her bathroom. She was wearing a tight, low-cut red dress; this was no time for subtlety. He had to know what he had missed out on. The dress pulled her curves together and made her already fine 32HH breasts look even more incredible. She was made up and had selected a particularly deep shade of red lipstick for the occasion. She looked good--better than good; she'd fuck her. She had a nice floral perfume that perfectly accentuated her natural pheromones. The smell of her alone had been enough to entice many men in her life. Men had told her it was a joy to go down on her. Her pussy was pretty, smelled nice, and tasted even better. When she was younger, she had frequently spent whole days and nights with willing, desperate boys' heads between her legs. She was still nervous, tired, more than a little upset, but she was ready to see him now.
The café was set up on the edge of a tight little cobblestone street that ran along the riverfront of Lisadelle's Adelaide River. It was an old, low building with vines growing up the sides. There were a variety of small tables and metal chairs set up around the riverbank, with enough distance between them to afford privacy. They met there and sat down at a table. There were few other patrons; they were taking a late lunch. Lauren ordered a Chambord Spritz and Damien a Belgian ale. They picked a few light items off the menu--escargot, in particular, was a must for Lauren, especially if someone else was paying. They sat and listened to the river ebbing and flowing against its banks for a moment. The breeze was so nice that Lauren felt herself almost yawn. Their drinks arrived, and still, they said nothing to each other. A few minutes passed.
"I think it's maybe best if I start. After all, I came to you," Damien said.
"Yeah, I guess so," Lauren replied.
"The dress suits you," Damien said, looking her up and down like a piece of meat. Lauren felt a little twitch between her legs.
