Secret Submission (18 page)

He ran his finger along the leather band. “I would be happy to meet your friends, that is not an issue. In fact, I like the fact that you want to introduce me to them—that you’d share that part of your life with me.” He smiled and her stomach fluttered. Oh, how her friends would tease her, for finding such a handsome man!

“But my friends…” His eyes held hers and she saw them turn serious—very serious. He was rushing things, and he knew from past experience that this was dangerous. But Sarah was right about their friends. His would understand his absence from their number if he told them he was training a new slave—in fact, several of them already knew. Yes, it was possible to meet her friends and put off meeting his own, but Sarah was an intelligent woman and would soon begin asking why. Better for her to understand up front. “My friends are different, Sarah. My friends will know you are my slave.”

It took a moment for his words to register. He had used her name, signaling that he wasn’t playing. As things stood right now, no one but the two of them knew of their relationship. Sarah had no one to talk to about it—everyone she knew would think her insane for giving up her freedom to anyone else. And when she introduced him to her small group on Friday night, none of them would know or need to know that they had anything other than the girlfriend/boyfriend thing going on.

But Phillip’s friends
would
know. There would be other people that she would meet, socialize with, talk to, who would know their secret. Unbidden, a blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She looked at him, uncertain.

“Among my circle, there are protocols to be followed. A collared slave has certain protections that an
uncollared
one does not. Don’t worry,” he hastily added, seeing her look of alarm. “None of my closest friends would try anything underhanded. But in the larger circle of
Doms
…well, let’s just say that, like ‘normal’ life, not everyone is to be trusted. If you accept my collar, you are under my protection.”

Again he paused. When he didn’t go on, she spoke up. “So if I accept your collar, you will protect me from all unwanted advances?” He nodded. “And by accepting your collar, then I become your property, don’t I?”

He nodded again. “Yes. You become my property. You have no rights, no opinions, but what I give you or allow you to express. While you wear my collar, you are my slave.”

And there was the crux of the matter. Accepting his collar meant this relationship had gone beyond the bedroom fling she wanted three weeks ago. It had blossomed in a way Sarah had never dreamed, not even when with her husband.

Phillip had never asked about him—and Sarah had told him only the barest of facts, not wanting Phillip to think she was comparing the two of them. Indeed, there was no comparison. Where Tom had been short, Phillip was tall. Where Tom was gentle, Phillip was firm. Where Tom was passive, Phillip was dominant. Very dominant. Wonderfully dominant. Sarah knew her reply.

“I am already your slave, am I not?” He smiled at her, but there was little mirth in his eyes. She sat back on her heels and searched for the words she wanted. “You have given me two wonderful weekends filled with love—and lust. A whole new world has been opened to me because I said ‘yes’ to you when you asked me on the beach if I would do anything you commanded. I do not want to stop exploring this world with you. I understand that accepting your collar involves a commitment on both our parts. It is a commitment I would like to give. Yes, Master. I would like to wear your collar.”

He smiled in earnest now. He had been right about her! She wanted this as much as he did.

“Then turn around, slave.” She did so without standing up. The leather had warmed from his touch as they talked. It was stiff, not yet broken in—like her, she thought. Time would make them both pliable. There was a soft ‘snick’ as the lock closed tight and the sound made her shiver.

 
Sarah put her hands up to explore her newest binding. The D-ring in front was colder to her touch than the leather. Gently she tugged at it to see if it would come loose. It did not. She ran her fingers around the back, where it was locked under her hair. The lock hung there and she tugged on that, hard. It did not open. The collar was firmly fastened onto her.

“Turn around and let me see, my slave.” Still kneeling, she turned back to face him. Phillip reached out and looped his finger through the D-ring, pulling her to him. Bending down and holding her, he kissed her—a deep, long, passionate kiss. She felt the rush between her legs at the way he could so easily control her now. Oh, yes…she liked this collar very much.

“It is getting late, my slave,” he murmured. “And you have had a long day. Come.” Keeping his finger hooked through her collar, he led her into the bedroom.

She had no choice but to follow—and the yearning deep in her loins spread, making her heart beat hard. Controlled, submissive, a slave following her master, she followed him as he brought her into the bedroom and sat her in the chair.

He picked up a chain he had on the nightstand and held it up for her to see. It wasn’t long, but there were three equal parts to it. The way he held it, the chain formed a “Y.” She sat patiently as he tilted her chin up and attached one end to the D-ring in her collar. The other two ends rested their coldness in the cleavage of her breasts and she resisted the urge to flinch. The ends fell just at a level with her nipples.

But it was not her breasts he was interested in. Taking one of
 
the remaining ends of the chain in one hand and her wrist in the other, he fastened the chain to her wrist cuff. In a moment, both her hands were connected, via the chain, to her collar. He smiled at her so bound and she experimented with the limited movement she now had.

She could touch her breasts, play with them if he wanted her to, and she could raise her arms a little ways above her head. But if she tried to go up too far, the chain bit into her chin, even with her head back as far as it could go. She also had limited side-to-side movement. Definitely an interesting position to be in. If she relaxed completely, her hands hung in their cuffs and Sarah felt very much like a puppy dog begging for attention.

He put on some soft, romantic music, lit several candles around the room and turned off the electric lights. She was getting aroused just watching him pad around the room in his stocking feet, and when he started his striptease for her, she squirmed a bit in the chair. Watching him undress always made that warmth bloom between her legs.

Unbuttoning his shirt, Phillip left it tucked into his pants, the front of it hanging open. She could see his chest, covered with fine dark hair—and she longed to run her fingers over it. Unbuttoning his sleeves, he rolled them back, taking his time, never looking anywhere but at her. Her breath quickened.

Phillip loved undressing for her; her face was so wonderfully expressive. With each garment he removed, her lips would part, her breath would quicken, her eyes would grow heavy with desire. Yes, she was an appreciative audience and her rapt attention appealed to his vanity. With a deft movement, he unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his pants, then slowly unzipped them. His shirt was in the way, however, and she could not see what she wanted to. Her eyes were glued to his movements and he obliged by unbuttoning the last of his shirt buttons and pulling aside the edges. Only a small part of his underwear could be seen; very tight underwear, revealing nothing. Unaware that she was even doing it, she began to play with her nipples.

The sight of her arousal increased his own. He stripped off the shirt and throwing it into the corner, advanced to stand directly in front of her. Sarah’s eyes were glued to his crotch, so he slowly opened his pants, sliding them down to his knees. His hardening cock was barely restrained by the tight fabric and he saw the longing in her eyes. She pulled harder on her nipples now—her own urge building.

Deftly he kicked off his pants then slowly brought out his cock. The tip glistened with pre-come—he wanted her now—and wanted her badly. Her need was as great and she opened her mouth willingly, wanting to be filled.

He put his hands on her head and guided himself into her mouth. She relaxed her throat muscles and he went deep inside her all in one thrust. Her hands, chained as they were, were in a perfect position to caress his balls, and she made good use of them. He pulled out and entered her deeply again as one of her hands reached up between the crack of his ass, feeling for the hole that was there.

He felt her chains brush against his balls and the touch fueled his desire. She was his slave—his toy. Willingly she wore his collar—willingly she gave herself to him. Her trust and her desire to please him sent him over the edge and he came quickly, filling her mouth with his seed. Satisfied, he watched as she struggled a moment to swallow all that he had so quickly given her. Concentrating, her throat constricted once, twice, and she smiled up at him, licking from her lips the few drops that had fallen there.

Kneeling before her, Phillip raised her arms and licked a few drops of his come off her breasts, then continued licking and kissing their wonderful softness, pulling a nipple deep into his mouth. She gasped and he gently pushed her back till she was reclining in the chair and he lay half on top of her. One hand dipped down, over the top of her panties and she moaned—menses or not, she was still in need.

Rubbing through her panties and sucking on her nipples, kneading her breasts, her own hands unable to contribute; his hands played her and she came. Not wildly, not with fireworks tonight; instead it was a long, slow rumble that took its own sweet time passing through her body. With a final shudder, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Did my slave have a pleasant experience?” he asked her, grinning.

“Your slave did, my master. And did my master have a pleasant experience as well?” she asked, feeling better than she had all day.

“
Mmmm
…a very nice experience. Thank you, slave.” He stood and held out a hand to her.

“You’re very welcome, Master. And thank you!” she added as she got awkwardly to her feet. Without the use of her arms to steady herself, she was grateful for his balancing touch.

“Time for bed now, I think, slave. Do you need to use the bathroom?” He bent down, cleaning up his discarded clothes.

“No, Sir—I’m fine.” She hesitated. He’d given no indication of removing the chain—which he had locked into place with small locks similar to the ones on her cuffs and collar.

“Then into bed with you!” He blew out all the candles but the one next to his side of the bed and pulled down the covers. She got in, but did not lie down. “Is something the matter, slave?” he asked her.

“
Ummm
…these chains. Is it your intention that I should wear them all night long?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about this.

“Yes, my slave, it is. You sleep with your arms tucked under you anyway—and this is my desire.”

It was another test—another limit he was pushing. She could see that now. Ducking her head a moment to hide the smile, she considered. It was true, she did sleep this way. But that was her choice. Could she sleep the same way she had for dozens of years when it was
not
her choice?

“Yes, Sir.” She slid under the covers and snuggled beside him. It was funny. She never even thought of using her hands on herself when she was with him. But the moment she couldn’t, she wanted to.

He gave her breast an affectionate squeeze. “I like it when you submit to me,” he admitted. “You give me your trust—you give me your body. That creates a bond stronger than any other.”

She nodded, sleep starting to steal over her already. He was right—it had been a long day and she was more tired than she realized. “I do trust you, Master Phillip,” she said sleepily. “I trust you with my heart.”

He held her for several minutes, listening to her breathing as sleep took her. There was something wonderful about having a woman fall asleep in your arms and he gently kissed the top of her head where it rested on his shoulder. His finger ran along the chain he had placed on her—the chain she had accepted from him. He could not see her collar, but knowing it was there spread warmth through him. “I trust you with my heart, too, Sarah,” he whispered before he too, fell asleep.

Chapter Seven

Enslavement

Waking, Sarah went to stretch her arms over her head as she had every morning she could ever remember. Except this morning her arms were brought up short and a chain grated along her chin.

Her eyes flew open and she remembered the bindings he’d put on her the night before. A quick look to her side showed an empty bed—the clock read 8:30. How had she slept so late? Tilting her head up, she rubbed her eyes, listening. No sounds came from the kitchen or the bath. She needed to use the facilities, but with her arms bound so, she could not remove her panties before soaking them and the pad she wore.

“Master?” she called tentatively. When there was no answer, not even a paper rustle, she called again, louder. “Master!”

She heard his footsteps coming up from the basement then she heard the sound of logs dropped on the hearth. But there was no need for her to call again—Phillip appeared in the doorway, brushing the dirt off his hands. “Morning, sleepyhead-slave!” He came over and sat beside her on the bed and fingered her chains. “You seem to have slept just fine with these on. Apparently you two are a match.” He grinned.