Submission in Seattle (11 page)

“I want you to
accept one more thing, Little One.  Have you ever had your tits whipped?”

“No Master.  Would
it please you?”

“It would please
me very much, my little sex toy.”  Then he picked up a small whip with tresses
about a foot long.  It was made of inner tube rubber cut into about fifty
one-eighth inch strips.

Standing back for
a good aim, he began to whip her helplessly hanging breasts.  Not too hard, he
thought.  Not too soft either.  There, that’s just right.   He could make each
breast bounce in a most lascivious manner while leaving just the right shade of
little pink stripes.  Monica found the peculiar combination of sting and thud
most intriguing and she couldn’t resist pushing her chest out for more.  It
didn’t hurt nearly as much as the clothespins, she thought.  She was more
concerned with the burning tingle in her cunt that was crying out for immediate
penetration.

Cole amused
himself with the whip for a few minutes until her tits glowed with delicious
red heat.  Then he dragged his fingernails over the hot, sensitive skin. 
Monica responded with a gasp.  “Time to reward this horny little slut with an
orgasm,” he said. 

He moved around
behind her and began to rub her pussy with his right hand while holding his now
rampant cock in his left to judge its firmness.  It was so hard, he was
momentarily afraid that it might break.  With her legs held apart by the cuffs
and the waist belt forcing her to bend over the horse, Monica’s impatient
vagina was at exactly the right height for him to fuck her from behind.  He
congratulated himself on positioning her with the perfect pelvic tilt for
vigorous thrusting.

First he allowed
the head of his cock to slide up and down her wet cunt until she was begging
for penetration.  Part of him was also begging for release.  It was a very
large and hard part.  It took all his willpower to keep from entering her
immediately.  He paused for one more instant to appreciate her amazing physical
beauty.  He noted that her well flogged tits were still thrust forward and her
arms pulled up and back as if she were a piece of erotic performance art.

“Please, Master. 
I need it now!”

“You are such a
greedy slut!  Well, if you just can’t wait.”  He slid into her with a mighty
thrust and immediately had to begin his mental exercises to delay his orgasm. 
His timing was being overwhelmed by the sheer erotic energy that he was
absorbing from Monica. 

The energy that he
had so carefully put into her was taking them both to a critical point.  To
delay his orgasm just a little longer he tried to think about anything that
would divert his attention.  His mind turned to a scientific analysis of this
overwhelming burst of sexual energy whose output seemed so much greater than
the input.  The term “breeder reactor” flashed into his mind and he started to
laugh at the various comic implications.

That’s when Monica
screamed as the tension that had built up within her body was released in a
frighteningly intense orgasm.  She strained against her bonds and her vaginal
muscles contracted like a fist around his cock.  Cole accepted the inevitable.
He reached around to cruelly grasp her tortured breasts, took a huge breath and
enjoyed the feeling of overwhelming pleasure as his hot fluid was pumped into
the helpless woman.  His legs strained involuntarily to force his shaft deeper
into her body.  Just as his orgasm was fading, Monica began her second climax
and her internal muscles began gripping his still sensitive cock in a rhythmic
pattern that seemed to suck more semen straight from his balls, re-intensifying
his orgasm and preventing him from moving a muscle.

After releasing
Monica and helping her over to a low futon bed in the dungeon, Cole joined her
and covered them both with a large quilt.  Sleep came instantly and he fell
into a near coma.  Waking refreshed the next morning, they elected to go out
for Sunday brunch at a restaurant in nearby Kirkland.  Sitting at a table with
the remains of a delightful meal before them, they started to seriously discuss
their relationship.

“Things are
developing a lot faster than I expected,” he admitted.  “I’ve never been in a
relationship like this one before.  What do you think of it?”

“I agree it’s been
fast, but I’m not complaining.  I feel like I’ve been waiting a long time for
this.”  She reached her hand across the small table to touch him.  “I suppose
my girlfriends would tease me for being involved with a lawyer, though.”

“Oh, yes.  I
forgot to tell you about that.  Glad to see you figured it out.  Do you mind? 
Some people think we’re a lower form of life.”

With a relaxed
chuckle she said, “Howard, I don’t think you’re anyone’s idea of an average
lawyer.  Did they teach you how to be sexually dominant in law school?  I’ve
never met anyone who understands it as well as you.”

“I’m flattered
that you think so, but I don’t think anyone really understands it completely. 
It’s a very complex subject.”  As he spoke, he scanned the dining area and
noticed the nicely dressed, almost prim and proper clientele.  What would they
think if they knew what he and Monica were discussing?

He decided to
bring up something that might be a touchy subject.  “Monica, how are you
feeling about our age difference?”

“To tell the
truth, Howard, I don’t think about it at all when we’re together.  It just
seems very natural.”

“I feel the same
way, but I’m a little worried about what other people will think.  I’ve seen
men my age suddenly appear with a sweet young thing on their arm.  Everyone
immediately assumes that it’s just a young bimbo that he’s acquired to help him
through his mid-life crisis.  It wouldn’t be fair to expose you to that kind of
pressure.”

“Hey sweetie,
didn’t I tell you that I’ve been dating guys older than me?  I know exactly
what you’re talking about and it doesn’t bother me a bit.  Who cares what other
people think?  Eventually they’ll see that we’re happy together and good for
each other.  The ones who can’t see past that first impression aren’t worth
worrying about.”

She decided to
move on to a different subject.  “Howard, our play this weekend has helped me
learn some things about myself.  Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course Little
One... I mean Monica,” he grinned.

“Well, Master
Howard,” she said with a touch of friendly sarcasm, “I’ve been thinking about
whether I’m a sub or a bottom.  That was always a big topic of discussion in my
on-line groups.  At this point, I’d have to say I’m both.  Just thinking about
SM play makes me feel subby and the more submissive I get, the more I crave the
spanking, the clothespins or whatever.”  While she spoke, she played
absentmindedly with a strand of her adorable brown curls that framed her face.

“That certainly
makes sense to me,” he responded.  “It took me a while to find out that I was a
dominant who liked psychological play as well as a sadistic devil who liked to
spank pretty women”  He noticed how her eyes sparkled as he spoke.  “Maybe I
just like making them give up control.”

When she thought
about giving up control, Monica’s eyes lost their focus for a moment and she
visualized what had happened to her last night.  With an effort, she snapped
herself back to the conversation.  “Yes, I wonder if it all comes down to
control?”

“It’s as good a
theory as any.  If I can change the subject slightly, how do you think our
relationship will affect you at work?  I wouldn’t want you slipping into
subspace at work like you did just now.”

“You noticed
that?  Hopefully it won’t happen at work.   I’m actually pretty dominant when I
have to be.  You should see what a bitch I can be sometimes!”  She said it
convincingly, but was glad he hadn’t noticed her stiffening nipples.  It was
going to take some time to avoid slipping into those erotic daydreams.

“I can imagine you
wearing spike heels and black leather, swinging a long bullwhip around the
office.”

Giving her best
Betty Page smile, she said, “that’s me, Mistress Monica.”

“I hope you aren’t
Mistress Monica with me.  I tried having a relationship with a Femdom and it
didn’t work out.”

“You?  With a
dominant woman?  Do you mean a professional, uh... Pro-Domme?”

“Oh yes, Nikki is
a pro all right, a good one.  Her working name is “Mistress Valeria”.  The
reason it didn’t work out was that we were both dominant.  She’s a great person
and fun to be with, but we had no sexual chemistry.  Put two dominants together
and what you get is a vanilla relationship.  We thought it was quite funny at
the time.” 

“Oh, too bad.  I
was imagining you being beaten and verbally abused by some bossy bitch in a
Dominatrix costume,” she teased. 

“I’m afraid it
wouldn’t do anything for me, but if you’re interested I could contact her and
see if she’d like to play with us sometimes.  She likes sexy little subby girls
like you.”  He watched as Monica looked thoughtful for a minute.  “You once
mentioned that you were a little bisexual, right?”

“Yes, maybe more
than a little.  But I don’t know if I want to be dominant or submissive with
another woman.  Maybe just vanilla.”

“Sounds like
another fun avenue for us to explore.  I’m certainly willing to participate if
you’re interested.”

She looked down
and said shyly, “I’m interested, just nervous.  Will you help?  Maybe you could
surprise me sometime.”

“I’ll keep it in
mind,” he said casually.  It sounded like the sort of scene that would be
spoiled if he talked about it too much.   “Why don’t you tell me how you got
that beautiful tattoo?  I’ll bet it was expensive.”

She laughed, “You
won’t believe it!  My college roommate and I decided that we wanted to get
tattoos, but we didn’t have much money.  So, we found out about a friend of a
friend who would do us for forty dollars each.  This guy was supposed to be an
art student with a lot of talent, so we decided to take a chance.

When we went to
his place, you could barely see through the haze of marijuana smoke.  We almost
backed out when he insisted that he needed to have a few drinks in order to do
his best work.  I was really scared, but I love the final result.  Later we
found out that these were his first tattoos.  I can’t believe how lucky I was.”

Cole’s eyes went
wide, “His first tattoos?  Yours looks like it was done by a real
professional.  Damn, you
were
really lucky!”

When Monica
stopped laughing, she asked, “Howard, how come it smells like pipe tobacco in
your office?  I’ve never seen you smoking anything.”

“Oh, that,” he
said, waving his hand, “I like the smell of some pipe tobaccos, so I use it to
give my office a nice masculine scent.  I’d never smoke the stuff!”  He made an
unpleasant face.

“OK, how about
those photographs in your house, did you take those?”

“Sure did.  Those are from my landscape period -
before I discovered the joys of photographing naked perverts doing naughty
things,” he grinned.  “I haven’t photographed a mountain in years.”

They sat there in
their own world as the mundane people of Sunday morning Seattle moved around
them, somehow kept apart from them as if by an invisible barrier.  They held
hands across the fine linen tablecloth and looked into each other’s eyes like
any ordinary pair of lovers.

For the next few
months, their relationship grew steadily closer.  The fact that it was
impractical to see each other during the week had both good and bad effects. 
On the good side, they both built up tremendous amounts of sexual energy, which
they channeled into amazing weekend performances.  They spent enough
pleasurable, quality time together that they began discussing the possibility
of marriage. The bad side was that the limited time they had together was a
barrier to the further development of their relationship. 

They both felt
that they had found their life partner, but it was going to take some
adjustments to make things work out.  The first order of business was for
Monica to move into Cole’s house.  They agreed that it would be best to live
together as a further test of their compatibility.  Unfortunately, with Monica
working downtown, that would create the need for a very unpleasant commute. 
Until she could find other employment, they would have to continue their
current arrangement.

Sitting in a small
theater one evening, they waited for a foreign film to start.  Monica told Cole
about her current work situation.

“Things have been
deteriorating at work lately, Howard.  The board hired a new general manager
about two months ago and things are getting a lot more stressful.  Mr. Weber
thinks that terrorizing the employees is the best way to generate maximum
productivity.  You know things are getting bad when there’s a sudden increase
in the number of Dilbert cartoons being passed around,” she said wryly.

Reaching out to
hold his hand, she continued, “I don’t know why he’s on my case so much.  My
three clients are the happiest customers we have.”

Cole replied
mischievously, “I think I’m your most satisfied customer.”

“You know what I mean,”
she responded with mock indignation.  “My favorite client is a medium sized
software company in Redmond.  I have a hunch that they might be interested in
having me work as their employee rather than going through the agency.  I’m
going to ask around next week and see how they feel about the idea.  It would
be an easy commute from your house, lover,” she said softly, close to his ear.

Monica met with
the personal director of the software company that week.  She was responsible
for the highly successful marketing campaign that had launched their new
voice-activated medical software.  It turned out that they were definitely
interested in her services and she entered into a gradual negotiating process
with the company management.

In the meantime,
Cole and Monica enjoyed each other whenever they could.  He began to introduce
her to his friends, one or two at a time.  Mostly, he introduced her to his
kinky friends.  He thought that they would be more accepting of their unusual
relationship than his vanilla friends, since they themselves often had unusual
lifestyle arrangements. 

As she absorbed
the never ending stream of scene gossip, Monica was amazed at what interesting
lives the scene people led.  It was better than any soap opera she had ever
watched.  She was always happy to listen when one of Cole’s old friends filled
him in on the latest developments.  By avoiding scene events, he fell behind on
the current status of many people and their relationships, so he always asked
his friends for an update

One weekend, he
introduced Monica to his friend Ron, a very dominant gentleman with whom he had
shared many secrets over the last few years.  Ron had even been something of a
mentor to Cole, explaining the mysterious art of psychological D/S play.

Ron had one belief
that Cole found rather discouraging.  He felt that it was unfeasible for a
couple to have a strong D/S relationship within the confines of a healthy
marriage.  It was impossible, he said, for the spouses to effectively share the
responsibilities of running the family while the dominant partner was
controlling the submissive partner.  This seemed reasonable to Cole, but he was
pretty certain that he and Monica could find a sensible compromise.

Ron didn’t have
much going on in his life outside his play relationship.  With no job or
marriage to maintain, he had plenty of time to think up the most fiendish, but
safe, torments for his deeply submissive partner.  To Cole, he represented both
the dark side and light side of BDSM.  He was a classic example of someone who
became so wrapped up in their D/S play that they allowed their other interests
and responsibilities to languish.  There was a definite chance that people
could become addicted to that dominant or submissive headspace that they
craved.

On the other hand,
Ron was always an advocate of carefully negotiated, mutually rewarding and
above all safe, kinky play.  People often referred newcomers to him, because
they knew that the newbies would be in good hands and get good information to
start them off.

When Cole had
first entered the Seattle scene, he was initially impressed with the general
atmosphere of healthy openness and acceptance.  People who had openly admitted
that they were kinky somehow seemed emotionally healthier than the average person
who feared to admit that they fantasized about something unusual.  After a few
years of contact with the same group of people, he began to realize that the
scene folk were just as messed up as everyone else, maybe more so.  It took a
long time, but he eventually learned the hard way that scene people were not to
be trusted any more than non-scene people.

A popular topic of
conversation was how many of the submissives had a history of abuse.  Many of
the female subs had been abused in childhood and many of the male submissives
had been abused in earlier relationships.  Not all of them, by any means, so
that no theory ever seemed to apply to everyone.  It made for some great email
wars on the internet along with the perennial favorite, 24/7 relationships and
TPE.

TPE, the
abbreviation for Total Power Exchange, was used for couples who agreed that the
dominant partner would have total control of the submissive partner at all
times.  24/7 referred to a related concept where a couple would stay in
dominant and submissive roles twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. 
There were always some couples who claimed that they lived such a lifestyle and
there were always novices who eagerly asked questions about how they could find
that sort of bliss for themselves.

Many D/S couples
put a great deal of thought into their arrangements.  It was popular to have a
written contract between the two partners describing, sometimes in great
detail, which rights and responsibilities each partner would have.  The
contracts were legally worthless at best, but it made a great topic for endless
discussion.

In reality, the
number of couples who were able maintain a relationship of this type was
extremely small.  Almost invariably, the requirements of maintaining one’s job
and family prevented them from achieving their goal for more than a short
time.  The more intense the D/S, the quicker it burned itself out.  Cole and
Monica talked about this on several occasions.

Monica seemed to
crave submission more than Cole needed to dominate.  Perhaps it was just his
greater age and maturity helping him to moderate his inner urges.  They
rejected the idea of attempting a 24/7 lifestyle relationship.  There was just
too much going on in their lives to think that such a venture could be successful. 
They both had demanding careers and of course they were trying to build a
strong healthy relationship that would hopefully lead to a successful
marriage.  Simply indulging their kinky desires whenever they both felt like it
seemed like the most practical approach.

Because of their
age difference, Cole felt a responsibility to allow her to live her life with
as much freedom as possible.  He made sure that she had time to visit her
friends and to stay in touch with her family in Idaho.  Unfortunately, her
family was not pleased with her selection of a man so much older.  Most of the
time they had little to say to each other.

Monica usually had
her weeknights free, so she always managed to see her friend Jennifer at least
once a week.  They would meet at a bar downtown or relax and chatter endlessly
in each other’s apartments until midnight or so, when they remembered that they
both had to work the next morning.  Jennifer was a secretary in one of the
giant office towers downtown.  She frequently complained that she was hired for
her exotic looks rather than her abilities, which were considerable. 

The two women were
at least a little bit in love with each other.  Perhaps because of her own poor
body image, Monica was attracted to Jennifer by her very thin body. 
Occasionally they would tease each other with a little kiss or a hint of future
lovemaking, but they also discussed their mutual need to submit to a strong,
caring man.

Jennifer had grown
up a bit confused about her goals.  Her father’s Chinese relatives expected her
to marry a nice Chinese boy and have many babies.  Her mother’s French
relatives who had migrated from Quebec several decades ago, felt that she
should follow her heart.  She believed that she had received a double dose of submissiveness
from her parents.  Her father was influenced by the old fashioned male dominant
Chinese culture that his own parents had practiced.  Her mother must have been
naturally submissive, because she seemed to thrive in that culture and always
deferred to her father.

Two years older
than Monica, at twenty eight, Jennifer still hadn’t had a satisfying
relationship with a man.  The Chinese-American men she had dated were shocked
when she hinted that she might like to be put over their knee and spanked.  It
was very embarrassing.  The white guys she went out with wanted to treat her
like a little princess and wouldn’t even think of getting rough in the
bedroom.  It was very frustrating.

Her envy of Monica
was strong, but her delight at seeing her friend find happiness was even
stronger.  She could hardly wait for their weekly dates to hear the latest
details of the rapidly developing romance.  Finally, she was invited to meet
Howard.  The three of them arranged to meet for dinner one Saturday night at his
house. 

Jennifer arrived
at seven o’clock and found them cooking dinner together in a most domestic
fashion.  They did not seem to be in role at all, she thought with some
disappointment.  She did find Cole attractive, perhaps conditioned by Chinese
culture to accept older men.  Perhaps it was just the fact the she knew he was
dominant sexually.  He was actually quite fit and handsome, if you liked the
beard and mustache.  She noticed that he had a hint of gray in his dark beard
and she could see the love in his eyes when he looked at Monica.

Cole was impressed
with Jennifer.   She seemed very intelligent, but he could see why she might
have been hired for her looks.  Her face was a very exotic combination of
European and Asian qualities.  Her large exotic eyes and sexy jawline combined
with her silky black hair to create an eye-catching, delicate beauty.  The only
thing that spoiled the effect for him was her lack of womanly curves.  She wore
a loose fitting sweater and baggy jeans that did nothing to enhance her small
figure.

After an excellent
dinner and a few glasses of wine, she worked up her courage and asked politely
if she could see the dungeon.  Cole and Monica looked at each other with
slightly raised eyebrows.  “Do you think she’s ready for that?” he asked.

Monica looked
closely at her friend and asked, “Jenny, are you sure?  You’ll have to promise
not to tell anyone else.”

“I promise. 
Please, I’d really like to see it.  It’s something I’ve been thinking about for
a long time.”

They led her down
the stairs and allowed her to explore the dungeon as long as she wanted.  She
asked several questions about the specialized play furniture, which Cole
answered as honestly as possible.  She seemed to know what the bondage gear and
various striking instruments were for.  When she had seen enough, she simply
said, “OK, thanks, it looks really great.”

They went back
upstairs and chatted for the rest of the evening.  After Jennifer had gone,
they both noted that her behavior was a bit strange. 

As they straightened
up the kitchen, Cole said, “She was certainly feeling some kinky urges
downstairs.  Did you notice her sniffing the leather play furniture?

“I didn’t see
that, but I could sure feel some erotic energy when she bent herself over that
spanking bench.  I guess we’re really lucky to have each other.  There must be
a lot of people out there who don’t have anyone to share their kinky secrets
with.”