Secret Submission

Chapter One

A new idea

A widow by the age of 30, Sarah Simpson-Parker spent the obligatory one year in mourning and then moved on with her life. Her husband, a soldier for his country and a munitions expert to boot, had died two years ago in an ironic off-base traffic accident. It had taken her a year to start thinking again; in her opinion, the Victorians probably had it right when their social customs dictated a year-long mourning period.

She felt much freer this time around on the dating circuit. Both she and her husband had been throwbacks to an earlier time, adhering to an increasingly outdated morality; when they’d married, they both were virgins. After five years together, they realized a little more experience would have gone a long way towards making sex satisfying. As it was, their sex life was adequate, but nothing more.

At least then she’d had a sex life. In the two years since her husband’s death, Sarah had remained chaste, and she was getting darn tired of it. Age was beginning its slow slink into her limbs; recently she’d found a white hair mixed in with her long, shoulder-length brown waves. A critical look into the mirror showed her a reality she had to face: her still-fit body and long, carefully brushed hair were ever-so-surely creeping into middle age. She wasn’t even sure why she was still on the pill anymore, it had been so long since sex had been a part of her life.

She’d had a few kisses from the men she’d dated, but most of the men she’d gone out with just didn’t do anything for her—until she met Phillip.

The first few dates with Phillip Townsend had gone so well, Sarah had agreed to more. Tall, dark, handsome, rugged; she almost had said “no” the first time he’d asked her out. She guessed he was slightly older than she—at least he’d looked it in the grocery store where they’d met when each of them chose the same orange at the exact same moment. Older, perhaps, and a bit rugged; clean shaven, but no gray yet in his hair. She liked the way his dark hair curled and was glad he’d left it just a little on the long side. In fact, had his hair been buzz-cut short, she probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance—she liked to run her fingers through a man’s hair, and Phillip had just enough to play with. On their dates, she’d noticed women notice him—and throw glances full of venom in her direction. He was Hollywood handsome and she’d been worried the beauty had only gone skin deep. But it hadn’t and he’d caught her interest. Tonight they’d done the dinner and a movie thing and then gone for ice cream and a walk along the beach. It was late, or rather early now—and Sarah was glad tomorrow was Saturday and she didn’t have to work. No cares, no commitments, just a day to relax.

The moon was full and the soft white light bathed the empty beach. Phillip pulled her close and kissed her once, twice. Sarah returned his kiss, liking his smell, his touch. His hands began to wander and she let them, liking how they made her feel.

“I like my women compliant,” he whispered in her ear.

And compliant she was feeling. The moonlight, the anticipated day off, his touch; they all combined to put her in a tremendously relaxed mood.

“Would you do what I asked you to?” he asked her, nuzzling her ear. Phillip Townsend knew what he liked in women. Never married, he had been through several long-term relationships; each one had run its course and the break-ups had been mutual. He dated more selectively now that he had grown older, and theoretically wiser. Sarah’s blush when their fingers met on the orange had prompted the first date—her intelligence had dictated several more since then. Tonight he would find out if she was worth any more of his time. He sincerely hoped she was.

Of course, it wasn’t only her brain that intrigued him. While not drop-dead gorgeous, she was still a beautiful woman. That set of freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose gave her a pixie-like quality that belied the severe cut of her shoulders. Obviously that was where she carried all her tension. He saw those shoulders as a bit of a challenge—would she be compliant enough to relax with him?

“Yes,” she murmured her answer, his touch arousing her.

“Would you come back to my place and do what I asked you to?”

This was exactly what she’d hoped for. She’d been a virgin until marriage, then monogamous throughout it and chaste afterward. It was high time she was naughty. “Yes,” she murmured again, an impish smile dancing in her eyes.

He took her hand and they worked their way back to his black Corvette, the sand of the beach squishing through their toes. He did not kiss her again, nor touch her except for holding her hand. Pausing at the car only long enough to brush the sand off their feet, Phillip held the door for her as she sat and refastened her sandals while he slid on his
docksiders
. A moment more and they were on the road.

* * * * *

The ride to Phillip’s cottage wasn’t long—he lived out of town in a cottage separated from his neighbors by several acres of woods. They talked of small things along the way, getting to know more of each other’s opinions; he liked
brussel
sprouts and she didn’t; he hated washing dishes and she found it relaxing. As he pulled into the long drive and parked the car up near the house, the two of them fell silent. The Corvette was his one extravagance; certainly it seemed out of place beside the simple cottage. Putting the stick in neutral, he let the engine idle for a moment as he turned to the beautiful woman beside him.

“Now, Sarah, I need to ask you again. Once you step out of this car, I want total control over you. Are you willing to give that to me? I promise, I will not hurt you.”

She hesitated, suddenly realizing the position she was in and what she’d agreed to. Her physical desires warred with her practical nature; did she really want to give this guy
total
control?

Seeing her hesitate, he leaned over and kissed her gently. From the few statements she’d made about her dead husband, he knew she was really not prepared for what he was asking. “I will give you a word—a safe-word—and if you say that word at any time, I will stop what we are doing and we will talk. Will that make you feel better?”

Swallowing hard, Sarah nodded.

“Then the word I will give you will be ‘orange’. How’s that? Just think of the day we met and you’ll remember it.”

She nodded again in response. Part of her couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, the other part of her was so excited, she didn’t trust her voice.

“Remember, once you leave the car, you will do as I say.”

The warning tone was implicit, yet Sarah knew he meant it. She nodded again and took a deep breath at the sudden arousal his words caused inside her. She was voluntarily giving up all control—letting someone else take the lead. She, who prided herself on her ability to think through every problem she’d been given; she who led an entire set of teams at work. What would her friends and co-workers say of her now, agreeing to give up control to a man she’d met only a few times? She didn’t care. It had been far too long since she’d had sexual relations of any sort. Putting thoughts of everyone and everything else aside, she opened the door and stepped out.

Shutting the door, she stood next to the car, suddenly uncertain as to what to do now. Just how far did this control thing go? Could she walk to the door without being told to do so? On unfamiliar territory, she felt the world wrench sideways a bit.

He smiled at her nervousness and came around the car, taking her hand. “Come with me, for you are now mine.”

Frowning, she searched his face for signs of a power hungry fanatic and found none. He was still the same; smiling the way she’d enjoyed earlier. Stepping carefully in the dark, she followed him to the door of the cottage.

“Stay here and let me get the light.” He unlocked the door and went in, closing the door behind him. Inside she saw a light come on as she waited. An owl hooted somewhere and she jumped. But then he was back, opening the door for her to enter. She sensed she still had the right to back out; but once over the door, she was committed.

She stepped over the threshold.

Only one small lamp was lit near the door; the rest of the place was in shadow. Phillip stepped behind her and kissed her neck. Her eyes closed as his hands moved down her body, exploring her. She swayed as he moved his kisses along her neck to her cheek, her ear. He pulled her hands behind her and she did not resist. There was a coldness around her wrist, a small click, and she was caught.

“You are mine,” he whispered in her ear. The thought caused her knees to go weak, although she remained standing. She hadn’t expected bondage to be part of the evening, but the thought of it gave her a small thrill. His voice was quiet in her ear: “You cannot prevent me from doing to you all that I want to do.”

His hands now slid to her breasts, still covered by her blouse, still confined in her bra. So far, so good. She wasn’t yelling or screaming at him to let her go. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. How far could he push her tonight? What would her limit be? Was she the one he’d been looking for? Phillip pushed the last thought down. Too many times in the past he’d gotten his hopes up only to find his partner throwing walls up when he least expected it. Better to just enjoy the evening and leave the future where it was. He rubbed her breasts with his open palm, and her nipples stood up under all their layers. “Yes, you do find this exciting, don’t you?”

For answer Sarah moaned and sagged against him, her mind reeling with pleasure. She hadn’t known how wonderful the lack of movement could be. His words echoed in her mind and she whispered, “Yes.”

“Yes, what, my dear? Do you have something more to say to me?” His fingers pinched her nipples gently through the layers of clothing and she moaned again, wanting him to undress her, wanting him to take her.

“Yes, Sir.” The word came easily and a corner of her mind wondered just what had prompted her to give him that title. Was it because her need was growing and if he wanted the words, she would give them to him? Did he want that designation? It didn’t really matter. If it would lead to a real orgasm, she’d call him anything he asked her to.

Phillip steadied her, then stepped around to read her face. “Look at me,” he commanded and she couldn’t resist. Her eyes met his and she saw now the latent power in his being. Not power-hungry, but raw power, natural. She gasped as she saw him unveiled and her arousal grew.

“Follow me.” He turned and did not look back to see if she obeyed him or not. He knew she would—and she did. The darkness gave way to a short corridor; she followed and turned when she saw him disappear into the blackness to her left. There she hesitated. It was too dark to see and she couldn’t tell where he’d gone.

A match flared as he lit a candle. In the small light, she could discern little, but it was enough to give her guidance. She stepped into the room and faced him.

“Good.” That one word, spoken fairly flatly, gave her a bit of satisfaction. She didn’t entirely understand this game, but she was apparently learning quickly. And there was no denying how aroused this game made her.

Phillip knew the candle didn’t light much of the room—that was his intention. No use scaring her away. Better to ease her into the ideas he intended to introduce her to. He was glad she’d followed him without question, but it was obvious she was nervous. Stepping toward her, he slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

Sarah’s body ached for his touch, but he was too careful: his fingers touched only the buttons, nothing else. She squirmed a bit and pushed out her breasts, hoping he might touch them again, but he seemed not to notice.

Deliberately, slowly, he pulled her blouse out of the confines of her pants, letting it fall to her sides, opening her bosom to his inspection. Then, using the front closure on her bra, he opened it, letting her breasts hang down. She blushed, knowing she was being examined. No man other than her husband and her doctor had ever seen her breasts.

Stepping forward, he cupped a breast in one of his hands, sliding the other around her waist. She leaned toward him, giving him better access to her body. It had been too long—and her husband had never excited her like this. “Anxious, are we?” he laughed.

For answer, she grinned at him.

He turned her and led her to the wall. In the dim light, she couldn’t make anything out, but there did seem to be something glimmering above her head in the candlelight.

Phillip turned her to face into the room again and stepped behind her. Now came the first real test. He had told her he liked his women compliant. The truth was far more complicated. What he liked were women that would willingly hand over their bodies for him to play with. Not only did he enjoy the exchange of power, but he liked to think he made the time worthwhile for the woman as well.

Sarah felt the handcuffs release. Quickly now, he pushed the blouse and the bra off her and let them drop to the floor. Then, raising first one of her hands and then the other, he fastened them above her head, elbows bent. She felt the leather cuffs wrapped neatly around her wrists and tried to pull her hands through, but she was most definitely caught. The thought caused a whole new set of feelings to flood her—arousal, panic, arousal. She groaned a little and stretched, experimenting with her restrictions.

For his part, he simply stood and watched as she tested her bonds and discovered her vulnerability. He didn’t want her to get frustrated, however, not yet. He wanted her aroused. Picking up something from a table nearby, he stepped forward again, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “You cannot escape. You are mine. And you like feeling helpless, don’t you?”