Submission in Seattle (6 page)

It had been
roughly eight months since she last had sex with someone other than herself. 
Prior to meeting Howard, the only good thing about her social life was that she
had plenty of time to haunt the internet and hang out with her girlfriend
Jennifer who had similar interests.  There were countless mailing lists, chat
rooms and web sites that discussed Dominance and Submission.  She had learned
enough about D/S to know that it was what she wanted and that she hadn’t yet
experienced it.  SM was interesting and she did love a good spanking, but it
did not satisfy her urge to serve and submit. 

She felt envious
of the women on the internet who wrote stories and poetry about their
submission.  Was it finally her turn, she wondered?  After several intense
orgasms fueled by fantasies of her new master, Monica fell into a deep sleep,
drooling slightly from the corner of her Julia Roberts mouth.

On Sunday morning
Cole awoke at seven AM as usual and looked out the window through the tall fir
trees that screened his house from the neighbors.  Since the Autumn monsoon was
absent today, he decided to indulge in one of his favorite Sunday morning
activities.  Dressing in a black sweat suit, he drove to the nearest Starbuck’s
for a large Cafe Mocha.  He passed the mirrored glass building where he rented
a small office.  Then, appreciating the light Sunday morning traffic, he
crossed the floating bridge over Lake Washington and continued up Interstate
Five to Green Lake.  Finishing his coffee drink as he arrived, he parked and
started to jog under a light gray sky around the 2 mile asphalt path that
encircled the lake.   While he idly watched the female joggers, he considered
his situation.

It had been twelve
years since his divorce, which was painful, even though it made perfect sense.
His wife had been correct, they were not at all right for each other. 
Constantly fighting for control was no way to live.  It had taken him two years
to get back on his feet emotionally and financially.  Then there was a time of
disappointing vanilla dating.  He couldn’t count the number of times that women
had lost interest when they found out that his favorite form of sex play was something
they considered perverted.  His discovery of the organized SM scene began an
important period of experimentation and personal growth.

Seattle had an
active pansexual leather community.  Kinky organizations would form and
dissolve regularly.  They all had the same motto: “Safe, Sane and
Consensual."  To Cole, the concept of SM as a form of healthy play came as
a revelation.

The large
pan-sexual play parties at the mansion had been an amazing experience and a
great place to learn.  His new friends told him that he was something called a
Top, the label applied to the active partner in SM play.  It turned out that he
had a real aptitude for topping and he learned a lot from the Leatherdykes who
were happy to teach him their highly ethical brand of consensual and almost
spiritual SM.  Even the professional FemDoms, who were so influential in the
scene, seemed to accept him.  He eventually decided that although SM play was
great fun and highly stimulating in its own way, it wasn’t quite what he was looking
for.

By the time he was
ready to move on, he knew that he was more Dom than Top.  It was great fun to
spank or whip a willing play partner, but it was even more intense when she
submitted to whatever he wished.

He liked the term
“playmate”.  It seemed a little more joyful and a bit less formal than “play
partner”.  He played because he enjoyed it, not because he was driven by some
inner demon.  Taking the dominant role in sex turned him on at the deepest
levels.  Apparently, he was just wired that way.  On the few occasions that he
had tried to be sexually submissive, it had been a complete waste of time.  A
good massage would have felt better.

 He developed
friendships with other dominant men and learned what he could from them.  Many
of the maledoms used names like Master Joe or Sir Harry.  Cole never gave
himself a title, although he had his subby playmates call him Master if it
turned them on and enhanced their feeling of submission. 

He knew right away
that he found some maledoms repulsive.  They were the ones who talked badly
about their female partners and seemed to have little concern for their well-being. 
He called them ego-Doms.  Some of them were fans of the GOR novels by John
Norman, which portrayed a planet where most women were bought and sold as
slaves.  To be fair, however, he had met couples who seemed to have constructed
comfortable D/S relationships based on “Gorean” principles.  The amazing
variety of kinky relationships was a never ending source of fascination for
him.

Around this time,
Cole stopped using the initials SM to describe what he did.  A new term was
coined on the internet: BDSM.   It was an artificial acronym that incorporated
Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, Sadism and Masochism.  It was
a flexible term for a flexible lifestyle.  Since he engaged in all the included
activities, it seemed the perfect label.

He had always been
curious about the influences that caused a person to enjoy BDSM, so it was
often his favorite topic of conversation.  He never was able to figure out why
he had turned out this way himself.  He had no history of abuse or neglect. 
His earliest memories of sexual fantasies around age ten were a desire to tie
up the little brown haired girl down the street.  He wasn’t exactly sure what
he’d do with her then, but he’d seen women tied up on TV a few times and knew
that it was terribly exciting.

For the last three
years, since turning away from the local scene and advertising on the internet,
he had enjoyed more erotic female companionship than he had ever dreamed
possible.  He respected every woman he played with and he learned something
from each of them. He was still in touch with several of his old playmates and
had parted on good terms with those he no longer saw.  Oddly enough, he
considered himself a feminist and on occasion had used his influence to help
women advance in his profession.

The only thing
that Cole lacked was a permanent partner of his own.  The house seemed so empty
at times during the long Northwest winters.  He wondered if Monica would be the
one. 

As he jogged
through some fallen leaves he noticed that the women joggers didn’t seem as
attractive today.  None of them had her smoldering sexuality that was a product
of her intelligence and her submissiveness.  OK, maybe her delectable body had
something to do with it too, he thought with a wide grin.

On Monday, Monica
sent an email stating that she wanted very much to proceed with their
relationship.  She signed the email, “Your submissive, Monica."  He sent
back an email that included the following terse instructions.

“Arrive at my
house at exactly seven thirty Friday evening.  You will be punished for
tardiness.  Be prepared to spend the night.  What you wear is not important. 
Eat before you come.  You can expect to be used sexually if I find your
behavior acceptable.  Bring the results of your STD tests.  You are not
permitted to have an orgasm until we meet.”

That week was a
long one for Howard Cole.  His clients were particularly demanding.  He checked
the local weather website and found out that there was indeed a full moon. 
Instead of setting his own hours, he was forced to work evenings.  At least he
was able to do much of his work at home.  Unfortunately he didn’t have time to
prepare his basement dungeon as he usually did for a new playmate.  Perhaps, he
thought, this would be a good time to do something different.  The dungeon
could wait for a future session.

On Friday, Monica
was able to leave work an hour early and skipped her usual workout at the gym. 
Her friend Jennifer Lee had been envious when Monica gave her Cole’s address
and phone number as a precaution.  Monica promised to call the next day with a
full report. The two women met on-line almost a year ago in a Compuserve forum
dedicated to Dominance and Submission.  Upon finding out that they lived in the
same city, the two quickly became close friends with a hint of sexual interest
between them. 

Jennifer, a
slightly built woman of mixed Chinese and French-Canadian ancestry was a
stunning beauty. Her exotic facial features with almond shaped hazel eyes and a
high forehead were the type that made everyone look twice.  Her sensuous waist
length silky black hair drew more attention from men than she wanted. 
Unfortunately, her history with men was abysmal, which was why she could
usually be found in the company of women.  She insisted that Monica share all
the juicy details of her rendezvous with Cole, so that she could enjoy them
vicariously.

Monica obeyed
Cole’s instructions forbidding an orgasm and by now it was almost impossible
for her not to masturbate.  Her clitoris was in a constant state of tingling
arousal and she was slightly wet with anticipation.  She bounced around her
apartment in a mixture of excitement, fear and just plain lust.  She bathed and
shaved, then tried on several outfits.   With each new outfit she stared in the
mirror and told herself that she was fat and ugly.  Her mother and her first
boyfriend had told her that a thousand times and now it was too late to believe
differently.  Perhaps her new master wouldn’t care, if she was sufficiently
submissive and obedient, she thought.

Since Master Cole
said that her clothing was not important, she did not want to overdress.  She
settled on a pair of moderately tight jeans and a tight white top with no bra. 
She didn’t really need one.  A pair of high heels made her ever so slightly
large legs look elegantly slender.

As she drove to
the home of her new master, she was already getting slightly wet and was glad
she had worn panties, even if they were just a little pair of lacy white
things.   She was a bit nervous, but she was comforted by the fact that they
had agreed to use a safeword.  All she had to do was say “safeword” and he had
promised to bring their play to an immediate halt.  She was more concerned that
he would be too afraid of hurting her, like some of her useless boyfriends, she
thought contemptuously.

Approaching Cole’s
house, she noted the impressive neighborhood, then found her new master’s home
on a narrow private road.  It was a large single story residence.  She studied
it carefully in the fading daylight.  Perhaps two thousand square feet, if
there wasn’t a basement and it was probably built within the last ten years,
she estimated.  It wasn’t the biggest one in the area, but it was nicely
screened by large trees and seemed quite secluded.   The landscaping had a
distinct Japanese influence, with several large boulders placed artistically in
beds of raked gravel.  She parked in front of the three car garage and went to
the door.

Cole answered her
knock with his heart pounding.  There stood not only the sexiest play partner
he had ever had, but someone who just might be the mythical perfect partner. 
He hoped he wouldn’t make any stupid mistakes.  Fortunately, being around
Monica made him feel very dominant and confident.  Was it just a coincidence
that she was 10 minutes late?

She saw that he
was wearing black jeans and a white long sleeved casual shirt.  Giving in to a
strong urge to cast her eyes downward, she noticed that he also appeared to be
wearing expensive leather loafers.

“You’re late,” he
growled.   “Come in and follow me."  He resisted his impulse to give her a
hug and led her toward his study, where he had just turned off the computer a
few minutes earlier. 

Monica scanned the
interior of the house for any clues about her master.   A dining room contained
an expensive looking table, but only four chairs.  The kitchen had several
gleaming pieces of copper and stainless cookware hanging on the wall.  As she
followed him down the hall to the study, she noticed several professional
looking framed photographs of outdoor scenes.   In one, she recognized a
waterfall that was near Mt. Rainier.  Since her master had mentioned his
photography hobby, she made a mental note to ask him later if the photos were
his.

They entered the
large study and stopped just inside the door.  “We have a little bit of
business to attend to before we can begin.” Cole announced, “Did you bring the
results of your tests?”

“Yes Sir, here
they are.  I guess I’m pretty healthy.”

Cole handed her
his paperwork which stated clearly that he was STD free.  She looked at it
carefully and handed it back, saying “Thank you Sir.”

He noticed that
she was wearing just the right amount of perfume.  He couldn’t quite come up
with the name.  It was something to ask her about later.

“Stand right over
there and be silent unless I ask you to speak,” Cole said, pointing to the
center of the room.  A light piano concerto played softly from expensive speakers
concealed in the polished oak bookcases and soft light spilled from two lamps
in the corners.

Monica’s heart was
pounding and she concentrated on the features of the room for a moment to calm
herself.  She saw that his computer was one of the latest models. Probably a
late Pentium class, she guessed, nice big monitor, ergonomic keyboard, CD-ROM
drive, expensive printer.  The furniture reminded her of the expensive walnut
and teak pieces that her company’s CEO had in his private office.  There was a
fax machine or copier on a credenza behind the desk.  The stereo was apparently
hidden, she noted.  As she looked down at her feet and noticed the fine texture
of the light gray carpet, her heart was again beating normally.