Submission Revealed Read online

  Stalking around her helpless body, the tiger inside Phillip watched as Sarah’s body slowed, her breathing still coming in great gasps as she started to relax in the straps with which he had bound her, on the bench he had crafted with his own hands as a present for her. So open, so vulnerable, so trusting.

  Phillip grabbed a handful of her tender ass and squeezed, gratified by the squeal it produced. He’d watched her cream over and over again as he played with her body and knew the time for tenderness was long past. With his free hand, he slid his fingers along his cock, feeling the rough bumps of the blood vessels turning his cock into a rigid shaft that ached to plunge into her ready pussy.

  He mauled her ass and watched her come again, her mind slowly leaving her as he unlocked the cages that held both their wild sides. She pressed against the straps, trying to push herself back on him, his cock teasing her vulnerable entrance. Slippery with her hunger, he relished the heat that poured from her pussy.

  With one hand he positioned himself, with the other, he reached forward and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head up and forcing her back as he growled and plunged deep inside her inviting warmth. Her muscles protested at first but he persisted, forcing her to open more with each thrust.

  “Come for me again, my little slave girl.”

  His voice, colored with his desire, pitched deep and gravelly as he took what belonged to him. Relentless, he hammered into her pussy, his balls slapping against her clit each time he buried himself. And when her body let go, the muscles contracting around his cock, the tiger burst from its cage and he rutted with her like the animal he was. Pressure exploded. Relief flooded through him. Warmth spread over and through every inch of his body, until at last he rested his body on top of hers as he gasped for air.

  Her body warmed his and they breathed as one as passion ebbed. He luxuriated in the wonderful glow that surrounded them until his spent cock slipped from her warmth, the colder air bringing him back to earth.

  Her hair had fallen in her face again. He’d have to remember to tie it back the next time. Gently he brushed it back, gratified when she gave him a weary smile. With tired fingers, he undid the straps that held her to the spanking bench and helped her to stand. She faced him, leaning against his chest in the romantic candlelight and Phillip gathered her into his arms, still a little amazed she had come into his life. And when she looked up at him and whispered, “Thank you,” he scooped her up and took her to bed, sending his own prayer of gratitude to the power responsible for her presence.

  Chapter One

  Reservations

  “I know, Beth. I know it seems fast but you met him. He’s wonderful.”

  Sarah Parker cradled the phone on her shoulder while she packed her old dishes into a sturdy cardboard box. In just under three weeks, she would become Mrs. Phillip Townsend. They had timed the ceremony to coincide with the end of her lease when she would leave this apartment, move into Phillip’s cottage in the woods and became Phillip’s wife and full-time sexual slave. The thought gave her a shiver all down her back and an excited tightness in her stomach. She could barely keep the giddiness out of her voice as she discussed the wedding arrangements with her best friend.

  “Yes, we’re going to have a civil ceremony. Please don’t tell me you’re backing out. I really want you to stand up for me.” Sarah layered her old ceramic plates between cheap paper plates and listened with only half an ear to her friend’s concerns. “Well, you’re the one who told me to stop moping about Tom’s death and to start dating.”

  Tom had been Sarah’s first husband, the handsome daredevil who blew up bombs for a living and who had been killed when a drunk swerved into his lane, hitting him head-on. With her husband’s five years of experience in the military bomb squad, the irony of his death had threatened to turn her bitter that first year without him.

  Time was the best healer, however, and Sarah had moved on, taking this small apartment as the first of many steps toward finding a new future for herself. Who could have imagined that future would involve whips and chains? She giggled into the phone and covered her lapse with a cough.

  “What was that?”

  “Sorry, Beth…I’m packing while I’m talking…got some dust in my throat.”

  For good measure, Sarah faked a few more coughs. Although they’d known each other for decades, Beth would never understand Sarah’s discovery that bondage was not only fun…but intoxicating.

  “Tell me the date again, Sarah? I have my master calendar here.”

  “Three weeks from Friday at city hall, second floor. I’ll talk to you before then, Beth, so I’ll remind you. And please don’t change your mind!”

  “Fat chance. Although I still think you’re rushing things. We need to talk, girl.”

  “All right. Meet me for dinner at Attie’s? You can talk my ear off there.”

  “Can’t be there ‘til seven, though. That too late for you?”

  “Seven o’clock sounds good. See you then.”

  Sarah hung up the phone and stared at the mess she’d made of her kitchen, a silly grin plastered on her face. That grin had become a permanent fixture since Phillip Townsend had asked her to marry him a week and a half ago. Hefting a large serving bowl, she remembered how she and Tom had shopped for this particular pattern. Now she packed her past with every wrap of newspaper.

  After Tom’s death, Sarah had dated idly, mostly men Beth fixed her up with, just drifting along, not really having a direction or sure what she wanted out of a relationship or, for that matter, out of life. Certainly, sexual passion had never been important to her and it wasn’t anything she had ever expected to experience.

  But then her hand had reached for an orange in the supermarket at the same moment Phillip touched it. While she had never been one to believe much in that spark of electricity the pulp romances always wrote about, she couldn’t deny the instant attraction she had felt for the tall, dark and Hollywood-handsome man with the devilish grin.

  She had agreed to meet him for coffee, which turned into a date, which led to…more. When one romantic, moonlit night Phillip had asked her back to his place in the woods, she had gone, figuring it was high time she was a naughty girl.

  Sarah pulled a drinking glass from the shelf, absently wrapping it in newspaper as her mind turned over her new life.

  That moonlit night, Phillip had opened an entirely new world to her, a world of bondage and sex where she had no control. He commanded her and only asked that she be willing to let him take her where he led. She had followed with a great deal of nervousness…and an arousal stronger than she had ever felt before.

  Thus began a journey of discovery that had led her down paths she never knew existed in life. What began as just a sexual exploration of Dominance and submission with a strong dose of bondage had evolved into a stronger relationship over a month’s time as Sarah accepted Phillip as her Master and called herself his slave.

  In the privacy of her kitchen, Sarah’s hand slipped to her crotch, rubbing her clit through her jeans as the words “Master” and “slave” echoed in her mind. She couldn’t deny the incredible sense of wholeness that washed over her the moment Phillip clicked the lock onto her cuffs and collar. Especially the collar. When she wore the wide leather band with the four D rings, one at each compass point of her body, she felt like she had finally found home.

  As Sarah stood in her kitchen, thinking about Phillip and the magnificent way he stood over her naked body at times, her panties dampened. She rubbed a bit harder, envisioning the wonderful ideas Phillip had given her to mull over as he slowly trained her mind to accept his dominance. She would never be able to explain to Beth that this wasn’t brainwashing, that Sarah was fully cognizant of her actions. Rather, Phillip was helping her to “unlearn” all the behaviors she had used to build walls around the passionate wanton who lurked deep inside her. The woman Sarah still kept caged because of shame. From her mother’s knee, in every magazine ad, in every Hollywood movie, Sarah
had been taught that girls who expressed sexual passion were nothing more than Jezebels headed for trouble and Sarah had swallowed that story hook, line and sinker. She had squashed her feelings of discontent, her yearning for more excitement in the bedroom, constantly repeating the mantra drilled into her…good girls don’t.

  But Phillip’s teaching was slowly pulling down walls and unlocking the wanton’s cage.

  Sarah closed her eyes and unzipped her jeans, sliding her hand inside and rubbing her clit harder and harder as her thoughts of Phillip’s acceptance brought her closer to an orgasm right there in her kitchen. Two years ago, the thought of coming at her own hand anywhere but the bedroom would never even have occurred to her. Now, she rubbed eagerly, her clit engorging with desire as her mind turned over her relationship with Phillip.

  Every once in a while, the titles of Master and slave still pulled on her sensibilities, yet she found the concepts too intriguing to ignore. At the moment, she held the position only on the weekends. After the wedding, she would move to his cottage in the woods and become a full-time, twenty-four/seven, total sexual slave.

  Her pussy spasmed at the realization and Sarah gasped, grabbing on to the counter for support as her muscles contracted. A tiny whimper forced itself out of her throat as small waves of pleasure coursed through her. For a half minute of bliss, she kept only one picture in her head—her kneeling before Phillip’s commanding presence, totally naked and with head bowed, submitting her body and mind to his will. Riding the waves, she enjoyed her orgasm as tingles spread all along her arms and down into her toes. Savoring the moment, she milked every last spasm.

  And when she was done, Sarah opened her eyes, washed her hands, dried them, picked up another drinking glass and methodically wrapped it in newspaper, while her thoughts turned over the new life she would soon be leading.

  * * * * *

  “I like Phillip, I really do,” Beth was saying around her barbequed ribs. “It’s just not like you to be impulsive.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I’m not being impulsive, Beth. I’ve thought this through. Really.”

  “Where are you going to live?”

  “He has a small cottage just outside the city. About an hour away.”

  “So you’re gonna commute an hour each way to work? Sarah! Think of the gas that’s gonna eat up!”

  She had raised the same point with Phillip. Driving out and back once a week was a far cry from doing it every weekday. The two had discussed her options and Sarah had decided a monthly plan from the local transit authority would work out well. She tried to explain that to Beth.

  “There’s a bus that comes in from the mall out that way. I drive fifteen minutes to the mall, park my car and take the bus in. From the bus stop in the city, it’s another ten-minute walk to work.”

  Shaking her half-eaten rib at Sarah, Beth objected. “Yeah, that’ll be fine in the summer. But winter’s coming. You’re gonna freeze!”

  With a laugh, Sarah feigned fear. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”

  Beth grinned and tore a hunk of meat off with her teeth, snarling like a barbarian. “I’ll rip Phillip to shreds just like this if he doesn’t behave himself!”

  “Look, the total commute time won’t be much longer than driving.” Sarah started to take a bite, then stopped as another thought occurred to her. “Besides, if I take the bus, I’ll finally have time to read through all those books you keep giving me!”

  Even Beth couldn’t find an argument for that. Beth avidly collected books the way others might collect stamps or coins. She had eclectic tastes and was always giving Sarah something new to “broaden her horizons”. Unfortunately, Sarah didn’t always have time to read them and return them in a timely manner.

  “What about kids? You planning to have any? Your clock is ticking, you know.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like my mother.” She pointed with her fork. “No kids. Tom and I had that agreement and Phillip and I have the same one.”

  Beth shook her head. “Never did figure out why not.”

  Sarah shrugged. “I want my career. I like getting out of the apartment on a daily basis and I like my job. I have responsibilities and some day might be CEO if I keep playing my cards right. Kids need their mothers. Don’t get me wrong. I love kids. But I also love being able to hand them back to their parents at the end of the day.”

  Beth shrugged and Sarah knew her friend was arguing just for argument’s sake now. Neither of them had chosen the family route—probably why they’d remained friends long after their other girlfriends had left them for a world of play dates and diapers. “Nope,” she told Beth, “I’m staying on the Pill and am just going to have to get my hugs and kisses from Phillip, instead of children.”

  “So what does your Mr. Romance do for a living?”

  “He owns a small dot com company.”

  Beth paused, frowning at her over a rib dripping with barbecue sauce. “Thought those all went bust after the whole Y2K problem.”

  “No, only those that didn’t know what they were doing. Phillip and some friends created some sort of software that the libraries bought to help them inventory their collections. They’ve since expanded it and now it’s used all over. He’s mostly retired on the money they made, although he keeps his hand in. Said the company needs to stay current if they’re going to continue to make money.”

  “So he’s rich?” Beth’s eyebrows went up along with her appreciation and Sarah laughed.

  “Yes, he’s rich.” She toyed with the remnants of her salad. “Or well-off, anyway.”

  “You’d better get a pre-nup before you go jumping into holy matrimony.”

  “Why?”

  “As I recall, Tom left you with enough to live on very comfortably. You work because you’d go nuts sitting at home all day long. I just don’t want to see this guy get control of all your money, then dump you and you end up destitute.”

  Sarah sighed. “I love you, Beth. You always find the darkest, most unpleasant possibility and make sure I’m aware of it.”

  Beth wiped her hands on her cloth napkin before picking up her glass to take a sip of her diet soda. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rain on your parade. I just worry about you is all.”

  Smiling to show she wasn’t really angry, Sarah nodded. “I know. And I appreciate it, I really do. But Beth…I love him.” She thought of how she felt when he held her in his arms after an especially passionate sexual play and knew the color came up in her cheeks.

  Beth sighed. “I know. That’s why I’m gonna be there at the wedding. Because I haven’t seen you this happy in a very, very long time.” She threw her napkin on the table. “But he tries one thing, hurts you in any way and I’m gonna rip his balls off and stuff ‘em down his throat!”

  Sarah laughed and the tension between them fell away. She was about to marry the most wonderful man in the world and her best friend would be by her side. All was right with the world.

  * * * * *

  All the same, Beth’s questions nagged at her for the rest of the week. When you got right down to it, there were several conversations she and Phillip hadn’t had yet. Yes, the sex was wonderful. More than wonderful, it was incredible. But twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week of sex? Not likely to happen. Even if she had the stamina.

  She’d been making assumptions that she’d keep her position at work. Yes, it stressed her out sometimes, yet she actually enjoyed what she did and didn’t really want to give it up. Except she and Phillip hadn’t discussed that. Did being a total slave mean she no longer had control over her own money? And what about her job? If she gave control to Phillip, would that mean she’d have to stay home and service him whenever he wanted instead of going to work and using her mind?

  By the time Friday rolled around, Sarah had most of her “extra” belongings packed in an assortment of cardboard boxes she had collected from the neighborhood grocery and the liquor store around the corner. She had also worked herself
into a state of confusion. As she surveyed the mess before she left for work, she made a mental note to set up a time with Phillip to take all her things to the mini-storage mall. It was only a mile from his cottage outside of town so anything she later decided she needed wouldn’t be too far away. But, then again, would she ever need any of these things if she were a slave? She growled as she shut the door harder than she intended. Damn Beth. She’d gotten too many questions swirling around in Sarah’s mind, like so many autumn leaves in the wind.

  At least she didn’t need to look at the remaining mess in her apartment until Monday night. Only eight hours of work and then she’d be in Phillip’s arms. She could ask her questions, he would have sane, sensible answers and life would be glorious once more.

  * * * * *

  Why did Fridays always drag? For the past twelve weeks, every Friday evening she would head directly from work to Phillip’s rural cottage where he would immediately put her to use. She hid her grin behind her hand as the vice president in charge of her section droned on. Under her strict business attire, Sarah wore a tiny thong…and knew it had dampened as she thought about what the evening would bring. Questions about the future aside, she couldn’t wait to tell Phillip that the mere thought of being with him that night put her on the edge of an orgasm while stuck in a roomful of stuffed shirts and laced-up women.

  Escaping at long last, she sped down the highway and out of the city to Phillip’s one hundred acres out in the middle of nowhere. The scenery turned from urban to industrial, from suburban to farmland and finally to a long, meandering country road bordered with trees and brush. Often she saw deer standing in the infrequent meadows, so she kept a lookout for them now. With winter coming, they would be on the move.

  The scent of autumn filled the air and she hit the button to roll down her window as she slowed for the turn into Phillip’s driveway. Beside the entrance, a climbing vine flashed up the telephone pole like a flame of scarlet fluttering in the late afternoon breeze and as she slowly drove along the dirt path, she noticed several trees beginning to change their colors from the tired greens of summer to fresh hues of orange and red. The colors ought to be at peak right around the wedding, she realized, making a mental note to figure autumn shades into the bouquet of flowers she would carry.