Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series (18 page)

Chapter 18

A day or so later.

K wrapped Francine’s hands before teaching her another defence combination. With speed and precision Francine began to execute the combination, After a bit her muscles warmed and sweat poured off of her. “That’s good Francine. Right here.” He points at his chest. “Stay focused.” She came at him again, counting off in her head,
one, two three.
“Ok, stop.” But she couldn’t, she came at him again. She was stuck. Stuck in the combination, stuck somewhere that he couldn’t reach.
One, two, three. One, two, three, onetwothreeonetwothree.
“Francine.” That note crept into his voice. “I said
stop
.”

“No.” She said. She wanted to keep going -
had
to keep going. She knew she was exhausted, her limbs were so heavy, her shoulders burning, but she couldn’t be weak, couldn’t be any one's victim anymore, this was what drove her was so important to her. Couldn’t he see that? He’d been working her out every day, but one day he wouldn't be there - he’d said as much, and how did she know? How did she know if she would be ready? She had to keep going, she had to!
Onetwothree...
still slugging away at him. He grabbed her, but she struggled -
hard
. “Francine, that’s enough!” She broke down in tears as he told her to stop again, more quietly now, as he felt her collapse in his arms.

She just
couldn’t
be any one's victim anymore. Than he did the worst he could do. “
Slave pose Francine.”
No! Her mind screamed. But he caught her, positioned her limbs, adjusting her body in the hateful pose, on her knees on the hard wooden floor, hands at the small of her back, knees slightly parted. She lowered her head, he waited until she was in the position before he walked to the kitchen.

The tears came now with only quiet sniffling, he casually visited the refrigerator and walked back. The detestable tears, more evidence of her terrible weakness began to stream down her cheeks as he walked back and stood over her.

He waited a bit for her tears to subside, her sucking sobs turned into hiccups, as he squatted down in front of her. Then, he gathered her up, picked her up and carried her to the couch as she burrowed his face in his chest. He sat with her, cradled her close giving her comfort and drying her tears. He opened a bottled water and gave it to her to sip. It was cold from the ‘fridge. She took a few grateful sips. “Do you know why I made you kneel over there?”

Her voice was disinterested. “Because I attacked you after you told me to stop?”

He smiled at her tone and her answer. “You've struck me before Angel. You may again, it’s probably something I shouldn't encourage, but no, that’s not why.” He was stroked her hair, held her close. “There's a fury in you Francine, I've seen it. It wants an outlet, maybe it was there before this happened, I don't know, but what they did made it worse. If you are ever in a real fight and you loose your head, it won't help you. Do you understand?”

 "Yes sir". She said, she heard him now, his voice smooth and soothing like molasses.

“Good. Maybe we should do more of the yoga.” Francine tried to hide her expression against his neck. She hadn't asked him to show her yoga. Yoga was so boring. There was a silence, then one more thing she
had
to know.

“You aren't going to punish me Sir?” Was that fear or anticipation she was feeling? No, this time she just felt tired. She felt so heavy, and he was so strong.

“No Angel.” He answered. Okay, then she wouldn't say anything about the yoga.

* * *

 The sun was so far off, shielded in an over-bright sky. Francine looked down again at her booted feet. No samples today. It's too cold, even for her outside. Her boots have left perfect tracks in the snow.

She looked back at the cabin through the bright haze, but couldn't see through the bright light. Was he looking out the window at her or not - it really didn’t matter anymore. She’d become used to his scrutiny, if not always comfortable with it. She looked around her again hand up pointlessly to shield her face. This winter seemed endless, she couldn't remember anything like it. Everything was a silent blanket of white. She trudged back to the cabin and the embrace of the heat inside.

* * *

Now that she had worked more with the laptop Francine never asked to use the "office" either. It sat vacant. Even when in the cabin alone she left that space to K and his secrets, occupied with her work and thoughts of where her life might take her when was finally able to leave. The longer she was at the cabin the less she wanted to go in that room - ever. To her the room begin to fill with bad mojo. She started to realize that if she ever went in there, that will probably be the last room she’d enter before she had to leave forever.

* * *

He was ready to leave - again. She was drowsy, already having come once. He prompted her, “Your my good girl say it.” She was on her back, him between her open knees. Her wrists were close together - cuffed to the bed. He kissed her wetly, erotically biting her lip in an enticing way, The more they were together the harder it was for him to be away from her.

She didn’t want to say it. The more he was absent the more worried she became. Even the recent shaking of her body was not enough to make her stop wondering where exactly he went when he was away from her. He was warm, tender and attentive, but also full of secrets and silence. His fingers tweaked her nipple. It didn’t hurt, but did get her attention, which she’s learning more and more he seems to enjoy above all things. Maybe she wasn’t the only one frustrated with their separations... He had said he missed her... "I'm your good girl," she finally answered. He continued to cup both round breast, tugging a bit on her nipples.

“It took you a long time to answer. Forgetting your manners? Do I need to pull you from this bed and get you on your knees in slave pose for another lesson?” He was still squeezing her nipples, fondling her breast until she gasped.

She wiggled, helpless beneath him in her bonds, feeling the heat slowly rise within her again, “No sir." she said against his wet kissing mouth.

“And why is that?”

“Because I'm your good girl Sir, she answered sweetly.” Correcting herself. His hand was back between her legs now, it moved against her clit, feeling her wet heat.

"Yes, yes, you are.” He said, still kissing her. “And look at how the thought of being on your knees is making that little pussy of yours swell up Francine. You
are
a good girl and you make me come so hard. You give your master so much pleasure.” Still trembling and a bit and damp from her orgasm and his erotic words, he turned her over and pulled her onto her knees before he drove into her with one firm thrust.

The thought of having to leave her again along with the terrible though of having almost lost her and her sweet little pussy to the evil he was about to face caused him to become a little unbalanced and he worked her
hard,
holding her immobile with one hand on her hip, pressing her down with the other, “Don't move Francine.” he said stamping her over and over.

"Master?" She asks hesitantly, riding a wave of almost scary pleasure.

He was caught in a bubble, thinking of how she could've almost slipped through his fingers. To ease her nervousness with the new position, his manner, he reached between their bodies pinching her thick little clit between his fingers. In response, she let out a yelp arching her back, pushing against him. He increased his pace even more, her eyes glazed over as pleasure spread through her body like lava pouring from a mountain. He'd never taken her this hard before and she dripped now with her own heated lust.

K was completely overcome by her total submission, her response to him and his own vulnerability, more than glad she couldn’t see his face. When he came it was like everything was forcibly pulled from him and a sound of surrender sprang from his throat before he could stop it. Her pussy clamped down and milked him dry, her body shivered as she collapsed beneath him. He tried to regain his breath and slow his speeding heart while he released her from the bed frame, gathered her close, still sweet and sticky from their sex.

 Keeping his condom wrapped cock inside of her for the moment, he stroked her hair, telling her again how much she pleased him, how pretty she was, his good girl. She always melted when he called her that. She took slow breaths as she waited for her heart to slow. Somewhere his monitor would be giving him a signal, he thought ironically; letting him know her heart rate was elevated and in possible jeopardy. But what about his heart? He wondered, as he felt her drift off to sleep, who would be there to monitor him?

Chapter 19

Francine didn’t hear the door open over the jaunty alternative music as it played from the iPad and speakers, but she did hear his heavy footfalls as he crossed the foyer in search of her.

That wasn't like him, she thought. He knew she tried to keep that area clean and took his boots off at the door so he didn't track mud across the foyer and the hall. He was not usually back this early either. Her flip flops made a happy
snip snip
sound as she rounded the corner, eager to greet him and help relieve him of the anticipated groceries and new movies he always carried back with him when she saw...
No...
it was
him.

The man that whispered all the
foul, mean
things that would happen to her back when she had been captured and kneeling with that horrid, metal collar around her neck. Turning she flung off the stupid flip flops and ran, but he was on her in a flash.

Before she had felt so helpless, but not anymore. She immediately began the slippery maneuvers K had taught her, contorting her body, letting it go slack when he grabbed her. As his grip tightened she flipped him, he landed with a heavy thud in front of her. She followed the flip up with a few well placed jabs and kicks, getting in some real shots with her strong slender balled up fists to his eyes and other vulnerable areas. Her well placed blows were full of anger and pent up menace before she was able to get briefly away.

She darted into the living room and on the way her hand went to her collar, twisting it inside out and around, hiding the duly blinking light underneath and under her thick blond hair before trying to make it into the kitchen for a knife. She almost made it to the bright, familiar area speckled with greenery before he caught her again in his detestable arms, this time he twisted her arms cruelly behind her back making her wince before dragging her up to a standing position.

 His voice scraped her raw, “Did he teach you that little
slave?”
The word made her cringe. K never called her... “You certainly didn't know that before did you?” He dragged her back toward the door, her bare feet schlepping along behind, looking for something to hold onto. Vainly she found a short table where they kept a lamp and the TV remote, but that didn't make much of an anchor before it came crashing to the floor as he continued to pull her behind him.

“I don’t remember you having this much fight in you
slut
.” Before his words had paralyzed her, but now she simply grunted as she continued to struggle against his hateful hold, although with every movement it felt like her arm would be wrenched from its socket. Remember K’s words about her anger she tried to struggle less and look for an opportunity. A dislocated shoulder would
not
help her cause. He continued to drag her over to what should have been the coat closet next to the door, opening it she knew what he’d find, of course... it was locked. The only locked closet in the cabin. “Where is your coat?”

This
maggot
was going to pretend like he wanted to protect her?
Really?
She bravely found her voice at his absurdity. Somehow knowing it would piss him off even more she said, “I can’t go anywhere without my
Master’s
permission.”She spat the words at him before she added for good measure. “...you stupid goat.” Where had
that
come from? Without hesitation he hauled back and slapped her open handed. She saw stars - but did not regret saying it.

“I see your
Master
hasn’t taught you any manners has he?” He was breathing hard as well she realized with satisfaction. She was
not
making it easy for him. He was also moving funny from the way he’d landed on his back when she’d flipped him. Crazily, she wanted to smile, even though the side of her face hurt. “Now, where are your coat? Shoes?” He looked like he wanted to shake her if he could only negotiate it with the aches she had produced in his own body.

“A submissive does not wear more than her master.” She sneered at him as if she was stating the very obvious. She followed it up with the look she realized now grated on
the Harvard/Yale
graduate's nerves. She slowed her speech, adding salt to the wound, “Didn't I already tell you I couldn't leave without my Master’s permission?” This next was said with all the acid she could muster, “And he’d never allow me to leave with a son of a whore like you.” His palm looked like it itched, he wanted to slap her again, but then changed his mind.