AUTHOR’S NOTE: Over the years, I’ve read about, heard about, and experienced a rather strange phenomena. Many stories about submission include mention of increased sensitivity on the part of the submissive. In my own personal experiences with submissives, I’ve often seen the same thing. But I have yet to see, hear, or read about anyone explaining how this could happen. This story is my attempt to explain my own theory on the matter.
Piloting her car down the lonely road, Mindy could feel the butterflies in her stomach beginning to churn. She’d been promised something special this weekend, and her anticipation grew with each mile. Already, she had twice caught herself speeding, forcing herself to slow down. Seven sharp, that was her target time, and she meant to be punctual. An early arrival would only make her appear as anxious as she secretly knew she was.
As she drove, Mindy pondered the strange path of her life, a path that now led her to a secluded house in the country. Looking back, she could follow the steps that had brought her to where she was right now.
Her life had gotten old. Everything was the same today as it had been yesterday. Her job, friends, family, all took on a monotonous sameness that threatened, in darker moments, to suffocate her. Even sex had begun to pale as a means of diverting herself from the boring life she increasingly felt herself trapped in.
In something approaching apathetic desperation, she had tried drinking, then various drugs. Each had worked, for a time, to lift the pall surrounding her. The intoxication, the newness, and, in some cases, the sheer thrill of doing something she knew was illegal, had added a sharp brightness to her world that had been sorely lacking. But, in time, even these diversions began to pale.
Then, one day, while randomly surfing the internet, she saw the ad on an adult site she‘d stumbled across:
SUBMISSIVE SOUGHT
Dominant male seeking female submissive. Must have a desire to please. Must be willing to work and eager to learn. Must be able to accept criticism well. Will involve physical/sexual submission. Am willing to train. Would prefer live-in submissive, but will accept submissive living in immediate vicinity.
Something in the ad had caught Mindy’s eye. She had never considered herself to be submissive by nature. To be honest, the question had never even occurred to her. But, looking at the ad, the requirements, she had to wonder. She did enjoy learning new things. Work and criticism had never bothered her, so long as she felt they were leading her toward a desirable goal. As for the desire to please, she could remember, vaguely, a time when making others happy had seemed somehow important to her. Noting that the ad was posted from fairly close to her, she decided to answer it. On a whim, she’d included a picture of her in her most revealing lingerie. Two days later, she had her answer. She’d been accepted, and the training could begin.
After a week, she’d already begun to wonder if she was wasting her time. All contact so far had been through email. Most of that had been listings of sites dealing with submission, bondage, and generally what she learned was considered the “BDSM community.” Dutifully, she had pored over every site, soaking in the information provided. She also found herself spending considerable time looking through images of bound women. She even went beyond the given lists, seeking out and finding new image sites.
By the end of the second week, her computer had nearly been taken over by her new studies. Her bookmark list was strictly adult now, her briefcase filled with notes and copied pages dealing with submission. Even her wallpaper had changed, now sporting her current favorite bondage photo. It was, she admitted to herself, at the least a decent diversion. Still, she wondered if it were actually leading her anywhere she wanted to go.
Finally, after a month, they arranged a meeting. Her pen pal, who she had learned was named Jonathan, had insisted their first meeting be in a public place. They had settled on a nice restaurant near her, where they had met for a pleasant dinner. Jonathan, it turned out, was a slightly older man, not unattractive to Mindy’s eyes, with a confidence and surety she couldn’t help but respond to. They’d talked throughout the meal, covering many topics, including the reason he’d wanted to meet here.
“It’s for your sake, actually,” he’d said, his soft voice holding her attention with every word. “This way, you’re covered. If you didn’t like what you saw, you were free to just walk away. And, since this is a public place, you couldn’t be safer.” Somehow, the thought that he was thinking of her safety gave her a warm, pleasant feeling.
On their third meeting, he’d taken her to his home, a large house in the center of an isolated, wooded area. And there, her training had begun in earnest. Service, submission, bondage; she began to learn it all, combined with lectures, required study, and quizzes on what she’d learned.
There had been sex, too, but, so far, it hadn’t really been any different from what she’d known before. Jonathan had told her it would get better, when it was time. Slowly, Mindy found the sex question waning in importance to her. With everything she learned, everything she experienced, she found herself wanting more.
Jonathan had turned out to be a most gentle man, yet there was never any question as to who was in charge when they were together. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident in everything he said and did. Mindy soon found herself turning to him for advice on other aspects of her life, then for guidance. When, one day, she looked at her life and found him in the very center, as if all other things revolved around him, it seemed only fitting.
Then, last weekend, he had dropped the bomb that brought her to where she was now. It was Sunday, and she was preparing to return home for the week. At the door, after he kissed her, he leaned back and smiled.
“I think it’s time to take this to the next level,” he said, something in his words, his tone, sending a shiver through her. “Be here Friday at seven sharp. We’re going to put everything you’ve learned so far to the test. You may learn things you never imagined about yourself. At any rate, I think you’ll enjoy yourself immensely.”
The week had seemed to pass with agonizing slowness, but, now, her wait was finally over, as she drew her car to a stop at his house. Glancing at her watch, she smiled, 6:59.
Moving more quickly now, Mindy slipped into the house, going directly to the bedroom, where she put away the things she’d brought with her. Next, following what had become normal procedure for her, she stripped, folding and putting away her clothing as well. Then, commanding the butterflies to be still, a command they refused to obey, she slipped from the bedroom, moving quickly to the living room.
As always, his smile warmed her. This time, though, there was something new in that smile. She couldn’t tell just what it was, but, somehow, it was enough to make her knees go just a bit weak, even as she felt her nipples harden; felt, too, the slow gathering of moisture between her thighs. Something was different today, and she found herself eagerly looking forward to finding out what that something was.
At first, it seemed her feelings were wrong. At his command, she had prepared them both a light dinner. Then, also at his command, she had showered and taken care of other personal needs. Stepping from the bathroom, she froze at the sight of the leather straps in his hand.
“Comfortable?”
“Mmmm hmmmm.” Her tongue probing the shape of the gag filling her mouth, Mindy gazed up at Jonathan, her limbs twitching as she tested her bonds. Jonathan had placed her on the bed, using the straps to secure her in a spread eagle position. Unable to move, unable to speak, she found herself feeling more helpless, more vulnerable, than she’d ever thought possible. And more excited. Her eyes eagerly devoured Jonathan as he removed his own clothing, then sank to the bed beside her.
“Now,” he said softly, “you remember everything you’ve learned so far?” Knowing that he required a verbal response, even when she was gagged, Mindy did her best to answer in the affirmative. Evidently, it was good enough, because he smiled.
“We shall see,” he replied. “And remember, you are not to cum without permission.”
Mindy groaned at those words. Orgasm control had been the best, and worst, part of their sex so far. Standing naked in the center of the room, commanded to remain motionless as his hands, his mouth, covered every square inch of her. Commanded, also, to deny herself the orgasm that often threatened to overwhelm her.
At first, she’d failed dismally. With time, however, she’d gotten better, holding back her release until his permission brought it crashing through her. Eventually, she could stand there for hours, unmoving, as he toyed with her, her mind screaming for release, but only muffled moans slipping from between clenched lips.
Now, he reached down and softly stroked one hard nipple. Mindy gasped, amazed. Never had a simple touch sent such a wave of pleasure through her. It was as if her whole body had, somehow, become incredibly sensitive, incredibly responsive, to his touch.
As his hands began stroking her skin, Mindy closed her eyes, retreating into that place he had created within her. Here, nothing mattered but the sensations his touch sent sweeping through her. Under his hands, then his mouth, those sensations flowed ever more strongly through her body, meeting in that dark place, swirling around her until she floated, awash with desire and need.
Mindy had no idea how long he played with her that way. She only knew that the need continued to grow, until the moans she couldn’t hold back had become muffled pleas for release. When he entered her, the sensations redoubled, and she found herself struggling against her bonds, but not for release. Instead, she fought to drive her own body up to meet his as he thrust into her. Finally, after an eternity of need, she felt him begin to thicken, felt his lips brush her ear.
“Cum for me.” Three little words, but enough to launch her into something she’d never dreamed existed. Again and again, waves of pleasure coursed through her, seeming to rebound from the bonds holding her helpless, returning redoubled. Again and again, her orgasm crashed through her, holding her body stretched tensely in its bonds. Finally, totally spent, she collapsed onto the mattress, only barely noticing when he removed her bonds and drew her to him.
When she finally found the strength, Mindy raised her head to gaze with wide eyes at the man who held her. “How?” she asked, unable to find the words to ask the question she desperately needed the answer to.
He smiled. “As children,” he said, “we learn to repress a lot of things. Mostly by inference, by watching the adults around us, we learn that some things are bad, others are bad form if shown. By the time we’re adults ourselves, those repressions are so firmly in place, we don’t even realize they’re there”.
“One of the things we repress,” he continued, “is sexuality. Most people never experience the full extent of their own sexuality because they’ve been taught too well to hold it in check. Even in normal sex, we hold a lot of ourselves in check.”
He stroked her back softly, sending a renewed shiver through her. “Submission,” he said softly, “changes that. When you give yourself to me completely, you give everything. All of your defenses come down. And all the repressed things get loose.”
Mindy frowned thoughtfully. “So,” she said softly, “the things I just felt, the strength of what I felt, is because……”
“Because you belong to me,” he finished the thought for her. “Everything you are is now mine to command.” He smiled. “Including,” he went on, “an evidently ravenous sexual beast we seem to have awakened.”
Mindy returned his smile. “Beasts,” she pointed out, “need to be fed.”
“When I decide,” he replied, his words sending more shivers through her. “The main question now is, do you think this is what you want? To serve me?”
Mindy thought back on her life before she had met this man. She thought about how plain it had become. Then she thought about being with him, serving him, and how happy she realized it had made her. Her thoughts touched on what had just happened, and her whole body quivered.
“I think,” she said softly, “that I still have a lot to learn. I may be learning my whole life. But I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be than right here. I am yours, Master, in any way you command, for as long as you will have me.”
Jonathan smiled. “That could be a very long time,” he told her, his eyes holding a glow that her own quickly matched.
“In that case,” she said, a touch of mischief entering her voice, “do you think we could give the beast a little snack to tide it over?”
20.12.11