Secret Submission (11 page)

Scooping her up, he took her to the bedroom. Drowsy with sex, she clung to him, caring about nothing in the world. He put her down and crawled in next to her, covering them both with the blankets. Nestled together, they slept until early afternoon.

Chapter Four

Punishment

Phillip awoke with Sarah’s body still spooned into his—his arms wrapped around her, holding her. For a moment, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply the scent of her. She slept on, exhausted from their morning activities. Gently, he unwrapped himself and stood, gazing upon her sleeping form.

She had been so compliant in everything so far—except for the food that morning. He would try that again later. He wanted her for his sub, his slave. Her enthusiasm to serve him with her body gave him hope she would be willing to serve in other ways as well. But he wanted that servitude
only
if she were willing and
only
with her spirit unbroken.

He went to the dresser and quietly pulled out a drawer, taking out a present he had bought for her. Laying it beside her on the bed, he tiptoed out, letting her rest. He’d try her enough in the hours to come.

Upon awakening an hour or so later, Sarah discovered she was alone in the bed. Rising, she made her toilette and cleaned up from their earlier lovemaking—although a week ago she never would have coupled anything so violent with the act of making love. And yet, they were compatible.

Since her cuffs were still in place, she did not shower, but simply used a washcloth to clean and make herself presentable. Her stomach growled loudly and she remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast. The clock on the dresser read 2:15—so she’d missed lunch as well!

It wasn’t until Sarah went to straighten the covers on the bed that she found the lingerie he’d laid out for her. Holding up the bra, she saw that, although the material was black, it was sheer and hid nothing. There were sheer black stockings as well, and a garter belt to hold them up. She’d never worn real stockings before, only pantyhose. A little experimentation with the clips on the garter belt, however, and she figured out how they worked.

There was a small scrap of cloth left on the bed and she picked it up as well, turning it about to figure out its purpose. “Oh!” She covered her mouth and checked the door to see if he’d heard her surprise as she realized what it was. In her fingers she held the smallest pair of panties she’d ever seen—and realized it was a G-string.

But she couldn’t wear these! She’d feel like…well, she’d feel very naughty in them, that was certain. She put on the bra to see what it looked like. It was the right size—a fact which was not lost on her. How had he known? She colored as she realized her clothes had sat on the chair all last weekend and he must’ve looked. The fact that he’d gone shopping for her this week, and lingerie shopping at that, made her smile with delight.

Eagerly, she pulled on the G-string, stockings and belt, fastening the front clasps easily enough. The back ones were a little harder to reach and she twisted around several times trying to catch one. She giggled as she realized she must look like a dog making his bed turning around and around like that. Finally catching it, she fastened the back of her stockings and stood to look at herself in the mirror.

And the word popped into her mind again. Slut. Standing there in such sexy garments—garments she never would’ve had the courage to purchase for herself, her pert nipples made the sheer fabric stick out. Her pubic hair showed around the tiny scrap of the G-string and she remembered his request when she was tied. He wanted her to shave. Could she? Her hand ran through her soft hair and toyed with it a moment. Could she actually do that? Swallowing hard, she knew she would. Briefly she remembered the incident about breakfast and how she’d determined she wouldn’t be back next weekend. And here she was actually contemplating fulfilling an action he wanted her to do outside of their time together.

She turned to look at herself from another angle and knew, dressed like this, she looked the part. She was a slut—a slave for his use. She needed to look those words up in the dictionary when she got home. Was there a difference between slave and slut—or whore? There was suddenly so much she didn’t know.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she realized he wanted her dressed this way. It was how he expected to see her when she went to him. It was her master’s will that she look this way. Sarah had to sit down on the bed as the thought took hold.

Phillip wanted her to look like a slut. What must he think of her to want her to dress like this? By buying her these clothes and putting them out for her to wear…were they like a costume? Was this a part she was to play? Or did they represent something more—something he wanted from her. Yes. Her heart beat hard. That was it right there. The relationship they were developing was not a game to him—he wanted a slave—a real slave who would do what he wanted when he wanted without question and without hesitation. If he needed a cleaning lady or a cook, he could command her to be that. If he wanted a slut, then he expected her to dress like one, to act like one, to become one.

Her head reeled with the implications. Images of the morning flashed before her inner eye—his mastery of her, and her need to be mastered. There was no doubt her body responded to his manipulations. In fact, that was why she’d come back this weekend. She liked the way Phillip controlled her. And she liked pleasing him. His cheeks would get this cute little dimple in them each time he smiled and she liked getting him to smile.

Standing again, she took another look in the mirror. Was he right? Was there a slut hiding inside her? Throwing her hands up in frustration, she slapped them on her thighs and sighed. Well, she wasn’t going to find out here. Only time with Phillip would give her that answer. Taking a deep breath, she turned from the mirror and went out.

He was spread out on the couch, his face buried in the newspaper he had bought that morning. For a moment, she hesitated. He hadn’t called her; how should she approach him? Finally she walked around to the front of the couch and simply knelt in her customary position, waiting for him to notice her in her new finery. Putting her hands behind her and spreading her knees put stress on the fabric and she closed her eyes briefly against the sudden thrill.

Hearing the rustle of the newspaper, her eyes flew open and she looked straight ahead as she’d been taught. He set the paper on the low table before him and commanded her, “Stand, slave.”

She rose, keeping her hands behind her. “Put your hands at your sides and turn for me—show me your new clothes.”

She relaxed her arms and began a slow turn for him, a smile playing about her lips. Tossing her head, Sarah shook her shoulder-length hair at him, hiding her self-consciousness at being dressed in this manner. Glancing back at him as she turned, she saw that dimpled smile and giggled. She was actually enjoying showing off for him! The G-string up the crack in her rear only accentuated the fact that her cheeks were bare. Continuing her turn so that her back was to him, she did not realize he had risen until he put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her.

“Very nice, slave. I like seeing you in the clothes I have purchased for you. Do you like them?”

Her voice was unsteady with the desire to please him and to find out about herself. “Yes, Sir—I like them very much.”

His hands slid down off her shoulders, along her arms, coming to rest on her butt cheeks below. His mouth nuzzled her ear. “Do you like them well enough to wear them this week for me?”

Her head spun for a moment—wear underwear like this to work? A flush started at her neck and colored her whole face as she whispered, “Yes, Master. I would wear these to work for you.” And she would—she could hardly believe it of herself, but she would. Her stomach fluttered in nervousness at the thought. She would shave herself and she would wear sexy underwear, simply because he’d commanded it and she wanted to please him.

Phillip smiled behind her. He had no intention of letting her wear them to work; she needed to be able to concentrate on her job. All he’d wanted to know was how willing she was to please him outside of their weekend agreement. Her answer pleased him a great deal. She was starting to discover the hidden side of herself.

Moving around in front of her, Phillip simply commanded, “Follow me,” and she went along behind as he led her to the room they both were starting to call the dungeon.

The furniture in the room had been shifted. The large, covered object from the corner was now pulled out to the center, still hidden behind its blue cloth. With a deft tug, Phillip revealed the cage beneath. It stood almost to the ceiling—a good two and a half meters tall at least. But it wasn’t very wide or very deep. He opened a door on its front and gestured to her.

Images of
The Pit and the Pendulum
crept into her mind and she almost balked. But she glanced down at the cage he had put her in last week, now covered and in the corner. That hadn’t been too bad, not after she’d gotten used to it. Biting her lip, she stepped inside.

The door slammed behind her and she flinched. The lock went home and she knew she was trapped. In the tiny space she had, she turned around quickly to look at him, fear in her eyes. She swallowed hard and calmed, seeing him still there, smiling gently at her.

“Yes, slave, this is a cage for you. Feel how it has you locked in—a place for me to keep you.” He pulled up a wing-backed chair he’d gotten earlier from the other room and sat comfortably, leaning back with his legs outstretched. “Perform for me, slave. Let me watch you in your cage.”

“Perform? I do not understand.” She looked at him, confused.

For answer, he just cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I do not understand, Master.” How could she forget his title? He sat there, obviously her master, since she was caged and he was not.

“I want to see you perform, slave. You are here to entertain me. Make me want you.”

Slut. He didn’t say the word, but it hung heavy in the air. He had dressed her like one, now she was to perform as one. Swallowing hard, Sarah tested the limits of the bars, finding out just how much—or how little—room she had to maneuver. She didn’t know how to perform the way he wanted, but she’d seen a few movies in her time. Trying to copy the moves of the girls on the poles, she arched her back for him, pushing out her breasts against the sheer fabric that barely confined them. Grabbing the top of the cage to steady herself, she twisted and turned, letting him see her from every angle.

The confinement of the cage was turning her on. She couldn’t move much, but there was something about being locked inside the bars, performing for him, that started to arouse her. It made her feel naughty and sexy. Perhaps Phillip was right and there was a sexy siren buried deep inside her. She turned around, saw the bulge in his pants and turned again so he would not see her smile. She wasn’t the only one enjoying this.

Phillip relaxed, watching her primitive attempts at being sexy. The fact that Sarah was enjoying herself, however hesitantly, proved his instincts about her had been correct. It was equally obvious, however, that she needed direction. Direction he would be happy to provide. “Play with yourself, slave—make yourself ready.”

Play with herself? She barely did that alone in the privacy of her own bedroom and he wanted her to do it while he watched? Trembling a little, she put her hands to her breasts, her fingers circling her nipples.

“Good, slave. Make them stand out for me—get them wet.”

She put a finger into her mouth, got it wet with her spit then ran it around one of her nipples, soaking the bra. Her nipple sprang out to meet her finger and she was surprised by the sudden arousal it caused. With more assurance, she got it wet again and did the same to the other nipple, soaking a pair of small circles on her bra.

“Pinch them, slave. Make them good and hard.”

She did as he instructed. Pinching her nipples hard under her thumb and forefinger, she felt a familiar wetness gathering between her legs. She pulled on the nipples, constrained from pulling too far by the sheer bra. Her fingernail, digging deep around the base of her nipple caused a soft moan to escape from the depths of her growing desire. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feelings coursing through her, no longer questioning them.

Her inhibitions fading, she let a hand fall down to the G-string. She wanted to take it off, but there wasn’t room to bend inside the cage. Instead, she let her fingers work their way down to her pussy. Gathering some of the wetness there, she brought up her wet fingers and rubbed the warm liquid around her nipple, soaking the dark bra further and causing the hard nipple to show even more. Going down again with her hand, she trailed her fingers over her clit this time before bringing up more of her juices to soak the other nipple.

Phillip stood and approached the cage. Smiling at him she offered him her breasts, but instead he took her wet hand and pulled it through the cage, licking her fingers clean of her juices as he watched for Sarah’s reaction. His cock was so hard, it was getting painful, but he would not relinquish to it—yet.

 
Sarah’s knees melted, feeling his mouth around her fingers. Unconsciously, her other hand slipped down into her panties again, soaking her fingers and rubbing her clit. There was something very sexy about being so close to him, yet separated by the hard, iron bars of the cage.

Phillip reached in and took her other hand, pulling it away from her sex as well. Now he held both of her hands in his. Again he licked the fingers, sucking them, cleaning them of their juices. She moaned as her arousal grew and she pushed her hips against the side of the cage, wanting him to touch her, to lick her there.