Submissive Desires (5 page)

The gradual changes were couched as offers that she knew full well she could either accept or decline, but that once she accepted his control over an area, she would be subject to his strict rules about it. Simon had no interest in owning anyone who didn’t have a mind or a will of their own, and Maura possessed more than enough of the both for her own good. She was whining about financial problems, having taken on more debt than she could really handle. Simon offered to help her whittle it away by putting her on a strict budget.

It took her a few days of wandering around his house thinking about it, but she agreed and he took over her finances – not exclusively. He would never allow that. She always had access to whatever amount of her own money she wanted, and he required that she sit down with him on a weekly basis to go over income, expenditures, and savings. His reasoning for this excruciating torture was two-fold – she could see that he wasn’t doing anything to her money that she didn’t want; he wasn’t stealing it, in other words. And she had to face her monetary irresponsibility – and the consequences therein – on a weekly basis.

Gradually, he assumed more and more control over more and more aspects of her life, not becoming encumbered with trivialities, but rather concentrating on making her responsible to him and responsible for her life and her decisions – he oversaw nearly everything about her. If she dressed in something he didn’t like to go out, he would send her back to change, so she naturally took to asking him what he would prefer she wear. Since he was the person she most preferred to be with, it was normal to turn to ask his permission to go out and see friends, in case he had something luscious planned for them . .

. to call him at least once when she was out, so that he would know she was okay . . . to yield herself to him in any way she could.

No part of her loss of control ever alarmed her. Simon was at once a gentle, considerate lover and a cruel, harsh taskmaster who never, ever forgave an error, and indeed punished them quite severely each and every time, taking out the price of her submission on her naked backside until it was truly a frightening sight, then taking his pleasure of her, denying hers until the mood struck him, then propelling her to such heights that she had fainted in his arms more than once.

Simon bent over her, reaching beneath her to tweak an impudent, interested nipple hard, rolling and pulling until the breath she’d been holding exploded out of her. He knew she was very close. Very, very close. You didn’t spend as much time as he had devoted to the discipline and pleasure of one woman just to ignore the signs she gave of impending ecstasy. He had adored learning those signs, because it added another element of power over her – Simon could play her – did play her – torturing her with the denial of her completion for sometimes days at a time, until she literally couldn’t sleep, lying beside him and moving restlessly on the bed, seeking that which only he could give her.

But only when he wanted to. She achieved orgasm if and only if he allowed her to – and was never allowed to touch herself without his permission. Dire consequences ensued if she did.

No wonderful explosion allowed this time. Instead, he straightened behind her, saying, “All right, honey. Ask me nicely and I’ll remove the plug for you.”

22

He adored making her blush, making her subjugate herself to him with words, and having to ask him – very politely – if he would remove the implement of her torture from where it was buried deep within her bottom was right up there with all of the other embarrassing things he made her do.

When Maura turned around, her hands automatically going to her face and mouth for some reason, he was right there, arms open, so that she could huddle against him.

“Please, Sir, would you take my butt plug from my bottom?”

He smiled down at her, brushing her hair from her forehead. “Yes, I will, sweetie.” He was as good as his word. Seconds later, relieved of her stretchy burden and that strange internal presence, she was on his lap being cuddled and soothed as she rested on the very bottom that had paid his price for disobedience.

23

Her rarely checked mailbox – the email addy she’d given him – had a thank you note in it the next morning that he’d apparently written at about four in the morning, repeating his thanks for the chat and asking if she’d like to correspond with him.

Maura shot back a reply then and there that she’d like to do that – with the firm belief that they’d probably not get through more than two or three emails before he dropped off the radar. Men, in general, were crappy correspondents.

By that night, there was another email from him waiting for her.

Elizabeth: (which, by the way, I hope for your own sake is not your real name) I hope you didn’t mind my little comments about you getting a degree. I believe very deeply in education and I really would hate for someone of your obvious intelligence and breeding to miss out on anything in life merely because she was being stubborn and bratty . . .

Maura sucked in her breath at the word “breeding” – it always conjured up much different pictures in her own mind than it did in the average person’s, she was quite sure.

I hope your day went well. Mine was of the generic sort – lots of errands and admin

stuff to do. I don’t believe we went into our whereabouts at all, but I live in rural New Mexico – VERY rural New Mexico – about twenty miles from the nearest town and three miles from my closest neighbor. I love it out here, especially at night when it’s quiet and calm – cities make my skin crawl.

Too many people coming at you from all different directions and not enough room to fend off an attack.

You gave me a description of what type of man you would need in order to be sexually adventurous. Is the description the same for what you would be looking for in a dominant? Have you ever been spanked or disciplined before in any way? If so, please tell me how – it doesn’t have to be long or drawn out – just the basics is fine.

Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Hope your writing is going well.

Hawk

Maura read the letter over several times. She couldn’t find any spelling errors in it at all. He hadn’t asked her for any information about herself, really, just volunteered a bit about himself. How extraordinary. All in all, she was extremely intrigued.

Hawk: (a “romance-novel-hero” nickname if ever I heard one! J) No, Elizabeth is not my real name. I’ve been chatting on the Internet long enough that I pretty much never give anyone my real name.

Nope, you can harp on me all you like. I’ll just ignore you . . . And I am NEVER bratty in the least. Nyah!

My day was boring, as usual – write, write, write – working and slaving my fingers to the bone over a hot word processor . . . I generally try to get 4000 words done a day . . . I don’t always meet my goal, but pretty much I do.

I live in NM, also, although in a much more populated area than you.Simon sat at his own computer in his spacious, open office and read her reply. He had done a little judicious investigating, and he already knew that Elizabeth was Maura’s middle name, and he knew that she lived in a lower middle class section of Albuquerque but that she was born in Wells, Maine; he knew her birthday was July fifteenth and that she’d told him her real age. Simon had her social security number and the Isaac score on her credit rating. He knew she’d been married once – when she was nineteen, divorced at twenty-two –

24

the typical “starter marriage.” Hell, he even had someone faxing him her DMV photo. Sometimes it paid to be a former spy . . . It was a damned good thing for her that he was one of the good guys or he could have had a lot of fun with identity theft, or stalking.

I don’t much worry about being attacked, and I like things to be convenient – shopping, movies, dinners out . . . stuff like that. My house is small, but it’s all mine and I love it, and it’s not in too bad a neighborhood.

From what he could tell of the physical description of her in her medical records, and where she lived, she needed to be a lot more concerned about being attacked. She was only about five foot three and a little over a hundred and thirty pounds. Pretty much any man who wanted to could pick her up and move her around any time he liked, and her neighborhood leaned much more towards bad than good.

Simon frowned deeply at the thought of some guy manhandling her. He didn’t like that idea at all.

He remembered something from their chat, and pulled up the file he’d saved, scrolling back through it. There it was. She’d mentioned having to “fend men off” when she’d gone to her car after meeting them. He shook his head, already starting to worry about her, and he hadn’t even met her.

You asked if my qualifications for a dominant would be the same as the ones I’d given you for someone I’d be willing to be “adventurous” with, and, yes, they are. I mean, to me, being with one’s dom would be the safest one could hope to be – besides, perhaps, being in one’s mother’s arms. The essence of a dominant/submissive relationship is not the giving or receiving of pain or pleasure, it’s the mutual exchange of trust and exploration – adventure (within agreed upon limitations, of course).

That was wonderfully put, and exactly his own feelings – but he also firmly believed that the dom was in charge of the limitations to a large extent.

Spanked? Yes, I’ve been spanked before – one of my boyfriends was very “into” spanking, which was great as far as I was concerned. If the rest of the relationship had held together, he would have been darned near the perfect dom for me.

I am assuming that you are also into discipline? You certainly do come across as dominant – as though a SEAL was going to be the submissive sort – NOT .

I have to compliment you on your chat manners, however – they’re impressive.

Well, time to go make dinner – the dog is eying my leg and drooling . . . Take care.

Elizabeth

They corresponded off and on for several months, and met online occasionally to chat. Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised that he did not try to move right in, as some “on-line” doms did, and attempt to assume control of everything about her life when he really knew nothing about her life or what she needed to do in it. He never flooded her email with twenty or thirty messages filled with inane ranting – in fact he was almost relentlessly on-topic; his messages short and concise but very pointed and even somewhat sharp.

The words “unforgiving” and “unrelenting” came to mind when she read his prose. They had spoken about punishments in one particular exchange, and she often pulled up that particular email and read it.

I don’t believe in “playful” spankings. Spankings are for punishment. They (as well as any other physical punishment) are always hard, and always given on the bare, but not always long, depending on the circumstances. Of course, there are other areas to discipline besides a submissive’s rear end – backs of thighs, breasts, and backs of calves come to mind immediately, along with other methods that leave no marks at all . . .

Punishments are swift and sure – not delayed in any way, if possible, and harsh enough to capture the miscreant’s attention, and mark her well as a reminder that will remain with her, to help her behave for several days into the future.

25

I’ve never put up with much from any of the people I’ve supervised in the past, and I’m even less likely to put up with anything at all resembling disobedience of a rule or any sort of disrespect from my submissive, should I be lucky enough to acquire another.

Maura had had to laugh at his verbiage. He spoke as if submissives were something that one had to brave the deepest darkest jungles to find.

There were several days when she didn’t receive any email at all and she wondered if he’d found someone else who evoked a more passionate response, but then a message popped up in her box and he explained that he had had to fly out of the country unexpectedly.

Elizabeth didn’t know exactly how much she believed about his mysterious “consulting for the government” job. It smacked just a little bit too much of the smarmy “spy” line that lounge lizards tried to use to impress the women they were angling into bed. But, then, he was completely understated about it and never bragged about anything.

He was scrupulously careful about trying to make sure that she felt safe and that she was being safe in her life and her relationships. They discussed safe sex and issues about meeting men online, and he was endearingly concerned that she be careful if and when she did so.

redbotmgirl: I am as careful as I can be. And, frankly, I don’t do it very often.

CaptHawk: Good. I’m glad you’re careful and I’m glad you don’t do it very often.

redbotmgirl: LOL.

CaptHawk: Well, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.

CaptHawk: Are you seeing someone?

redbotmgirl: No – I don’t think you qualify since I don’t technically “see” you, and frankly our communications are barely even flirtatious.

Simon didn’t know whether that was a compliment or a complaint. He went with his gut feeling.

CaptHawk: Ouch.

redbotmgirl: Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like I don’t enjoy corresponding and chatting with you. I do. It’s just that . . . I don’t know. It’s like you’ve got an almost British reserve. Or maybe I’m just used to the more ham-handed approach that most doms online take.

CaptHawk: Please explain.

redbotmgirl: Well, you’re just . . . very “hands off” – you’re the least demanding dom I’ve ever met.

Beyond trying to corral me into going back to school, which could hardly qualify as a bad thing, you haven’t tried to send me to bed early or begged for a picture or a phone call . . .

CaptHawk: I don’t beg.

redbotmgirl: ROTFL. Somehow I don’t doubt that one iota.

CaptHawk: I’d certainly like to have a photo of you if you have one, but I don’t have one of myself to give you, so that would be an unfair trade.

CaptHawk: And I would also be interested in talking with you on the phone, but I wouldn’t want you to feel awkward about it at all, and it’s never something I would demand that you do. I wouldn’t want to compromise your feelings of security in any way. This man was amazing . . . or he was being paranoid for both himself and her?redbotmgirl: Thank you.