Forced Submission Page 4

  “Follow me.” Ellis walked out of the closet and Mia crawled after him on her hands and knees, hating him. He walked past the bed and into the living area of the large bedroom. He sat down in the center of the sofa. She saw now he was wearing white shorts. His torso was bare. His chest was muscular and smooth, save for a V of dark gold curls at his sternum that tapered down to his flat belly.

  He patted the sofa. “Get up here and lay yourself across my lap. Before we do anything else, I’m going to punish you. You need a good, hard spanking to get you in the right mindset. Then we’ll talk about the rules.”

  Thirsty. So thirsty.

  Mia thought about asking for permission to speak so she could beg for some water, but didn’t quite dare. He wasn’t going to let her die, surely. He would have to feed her eventually.

  His words finally penetrated the fog of her thirst. A spanking? No fucking way!

  He was staring intently at her, his deep brown eyes ringed with a thick fringe of golden lashes, as if daring her to refuse.

  Remember the plan. Pretend to go along. Bide your time.

  Anyway, how bad could a spanking be? It wasn’t like a whip or paddle, which had to be horribly painful! It was just a hand. She could tolerate it. She could get through it. And then maybe he’d give her some water.

  Taking a deep breath, she hoisted herself up over the man’s hard thighs, feeling awkward and embarrassed and, most of all, afraid. She jumped when she felt his large hands moving over her ass. He began to lightly pinch and knead the flesh with one hand, while slipping the other between her legs. He had wet his fingers as before, and he slipped the tip of one into her entrance and then drew it along her labia, lightly stroking her clit. Embarrassed, she tried to close her legs, but he barked, “Keep your legs spread. No matter what, never, ever close your legs to me.”

  To make his point, he smacked her spread pussy with a cupped palm and Mia squealed and very nearly closed her legs again, though she caught herself in time. You can do this. Just obey and get through it.

  He began to rub and stroke her sex again, and in spite of herself, she couldn’t deny the warm, welcoming sensations he was causing with his hand. She felt herself relax, if just a little, and she turned her head so her cheek was resting on the sofa. She could feel his erection hard beneath her body.

  The first smack on her ass caught her by surprise, coming down hard against her left cheek. She gasped at the unexpected force of the blow, her skin smarting from the sting. A series of blows followed, each harder than the last. In spite of her promise to herself to cooperate, Mia began to squirm and twitch, tensing as Ellis’ hard hand crashed again and again against her tender bottom.

  The pain began to build, and her ass felt like it was on fire. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Without quite realizing what she was doing, Mia reached back, desperate to cover her blistered bottom, unable to endure one more blow.

  Ellis slapped at her hands until she moved them. He grabbed her wrists in a tight grip and yanked her arms over her head, pressing them hard into the sofa, continuing all the while to smack her with his other hand.

  On and on he spanked her, hitting one cheek and then the other, and then her thighs, and then back to her ass, until she felt as if she were dissolving into a puddle of pure, raw pain.

  Finally, exhausted and defeated, her body went limp, her hands uncurling from the fists into which they had been balled, her mouth hanging open and slack. The spanking continued, but had somehow become more bearable, the skin perhaps numbed by the repeated blows, or maybe her mind was just too exhausted to process what was happening anymore.

  Eventually the spanking stopped. Mia felt herself being flipped over and then cradled into Ellis’ strong arms, her cheek pressed against his bare chest. He smelled nice, like lemon oil and cedar. It felt good to be held in his arms and she just lay there, too spent to move.

  Her captor leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His voice was a low, soothing murmur in her ear. “Are you going to behave better now, Mia? Have you learned your first lesson in obedience?”

  A direct question. Focus. Answer him.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He stood with Mia still in his arms. Turning, he set her gently on the sofa and then reached for a bottle of water from the end table beside it. All at once Mia’s thirst flared, scorching her tongue and parching her throat. She stared longingly at the bottle and then looked at the man who was holding it just out of her reach.

  “Thirsty?” he asked.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered, her mouth dry as sawdust.

  Still holding the bottle, he pointed to his bare feet. “Next rule. You must always thank me for your punishment. Get down on the ground and kiss my feet to show your thanks.” Mia couldn’t tear her eyes away from the bottle of clear, lovely water. Kiss his feet? She could do that, if it meant he would give her some of that water.

  She rolled from the sofa to the carpet and crouched in front of Ellis. She bent forward and licked her dry lips. Dipping her head, she touched the top of his foot with her lips. She did it again, and again, not sure when to stop, or if she was expected to speak her thanks.

  Finally, she dared between kisses, “Thank you, Sir.”

  She felt a tap on her shoulder then, and she lifted her head. Ellis was holding the bottle, its cap now removed. She reached for it but he shook his head. “No hands. Put them behind your back and open your mouth.”

  Mia obeyed, her fingers twisting nervously behind her as she waited for the water. Crouching in front of her, Ellis tipped the bottle slowly and let it splash into her open mouth. Mia sputtered a little and then swallowed. She opened her mouth again, and he poured more of the heavenly liquid onto her tongue.

  Nothing had ever tasted as sweet.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she breathed. And this time, she meant it.

  Chapter 4

  “Stand up and model this for me.” Ellis selected a black, frilly apron, not much bigger than a baby’s bib, from the armoire and held it out for Mia to see. “You’ll wear this daily while doing your chores.”

  Mia scrambled ungracefully to her feet. Ellis made a mental note to work on grace and movement during her training exercises. She took the apron, staring down at it with a frown. “Hurry up, put it on,” Ellis said, annoyed at her hesitation. Casting him a frightened look, Mia hastily tied the sash in place around her waist.

  Crouching in front of her, Ellis secured a leather cuff around each ankle and attached a hobble chain between them. He stood and stepped back to admire his handiwork, his cock rising as he took in the erotic sight.

  She had nice breasts, high and round with rosy pink nipples like pencil erasers, perfect for piercing. She had definite potential as a real beauty, once he worked the extra weight off her. “Turn around. I want to see how you look from the back.”

  Color flooded Mia’s cheeks but she did as she was told. Her ass was still a nice cherry red, a few spots already darkening to purple. She would have a few bruises from her virgin spanking. He would toughen her up with daily spankings and paddling. The thought made his cock and balls ache with need. He would have to fuck her soon, even if only up the ass.

  Gripping the back of her neck, Ellis forced Mia toward the heap of soiled bedding on the floor that he’d stripped from her mattress after he’d locked her in the punishment cage. His hand still on her neck, he pushed her down to her knees. Crouching beside her, he pushed the back of her head down until her nose was touching the wet sheets.

  “Bad girl,” he said, holding her down as she whimpered. “Next time you do that, you’ll sleep in your own filth.”

  After several beats, he let go of her head and allowed her to lift her head. Her face was flushed, her eyes wild. With a cold smile, he continued, “Part of your daily chores will be to make the beds, change the sheets as necessary, and keep the bathrooms and kitchen spotless. We’ll go over all that later. How well you do your chores will impact when or even if you’ll be permitt
ed to eat that day. I’ll conduct daily inspections of your work and make my decision at that time. Are we clear so far, Mia?”

  “Yes, Sir,” the girl said faintly, the color draining from her face.

  She was, no doubt, very hungry at the moment, but it wouldn’t hurt her to fast a while longer. Maybe she’d actually burn a few calories, which was all to the good. Turning back to the armoire, Ellis reached for the choke collar and leash. He held them up so she could see. Predictably, her eyes widened, her hands coming to her mouth. “Lift your hair,” Ellis ordered, “and bend your head forward so I can put the choke collar on you.”

  Mia bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. Ellis glared at her and took a step forward. With a small cry of fear, she lifted her dark, wavy hair and lowered her head.

  He would soon beat that resistance out of her. She was obeying out of fear at this point. He would train her to obey because of a deep and burning desire to please him in all things, no matter the cost to herself. She would serve him with utter devotion, no trace of dissent or resistance left. Her world would consist of serving him, her Master. She would live for him. She would be willing to die for him. The thought of claiming and molding this young woman into his ideal submissive woman filled him with a dark, fierce thrill that heated his blood and hardened his cock.

  He slipped the cold links of the metal choke collar over her head and drew the chain tight. Instinctively Mia lifted her hands to the collar. “Hands at your sides!” Ellis snapped, pleased when she at once dropped her hands. “Never, ever touch something I’ve put on you, do you hear me? I don’t care if it’s too tight or it hurts or it scares you—you do not make these decisions any longer.”

  Reaching for the O ring at the end of the collar, he attached the leash and gave it a jerk. Mia stumbled forward with a gasp, her face reddening as the choke collar tightened against her throat. Ellis narrowed his eyes, silently daring her to touch the collar again. Though tears came to her eyes, Mia kept her hands at her sides. Satisfied, Ellis released the tension on the collar. He turned toward the door, giving the leash another tug. “Come,” he said brusquely.

  He led her from the room into the master bedroom, which was easily twice the size of hers. “This is my room. I like the bedding changed at least once a week, more if necessary. The linen closet is in the hall.” He let her look around the room, taking in the king size bed with the brass headboard, cuffs and chains already secured to the bars. He noted the sudden, sharp intake of breath when she saw the large animal cage on the floor beside it.

  “That’s right,” he said, as if she’d spoken aloud. “You’ll be spending a lot of time in that cage, Mia. The closet cage is for punishments, but this one is for when I want you near me, but you haven’t earned the right to be in my bed.”

  Please, don’t put me back in a cage—”

  Ellis cut her off with a sharp slap to her face. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do or not do! You have no say in the matter. None. I do what pleases me. In time, that will be enough for you. To please me will be all you crave and all you need, do you understand?”

  He could see by her dazed, stupid expression that she had no idea what he was saying. He slapped her again. “Answer the question.”

  “No, I mean, yes! I—I don’t know, Sir!” Her chin was trembling, tears brimming in her eyes.

  Ellis relented a little. “Okay. It’s okay not to know. You don’t have to know at this point. All you have to do is obey.” He gave her choke collar a hard jerk to emphasize his point. “Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she gasped, her face reddening.

  Ellis released his hold on the collar and turned, giving her leash a tug. He led her through the room into the marbled master bathroom, with its large walk-in shower and deep Jacuzzi tub. “When I shower,” he informed her, “you will wait outside the stall on your knees, a towel at the ready.”

  Continuing the tour, he led Mia down the hall. She stumbled along behind him in the hobble chains. Glancing back at her, Ellis remarked, “You have no grace. That will be part of your daily training. You will learn to move like a dancer, no matter if you’re hobbled or if you’re wearing six-inch stiletto heels.” He pinched a roll of fat on her midriff, adding, “Once we work this flab off you, it’ll be easier for you to move with the grace befitting a well-trained slave girl. We have a lot of work to do to whip you into shape.” He grinned at his own pun. “So much to do!” he enthused, rubbing his erection through his shorts. “I can’t wait to get started. But first”—he stopped in front of the last door at the end of the hall—”welcome to my dungeon.”

  ~*~

  Mia stared aghast around the large room, which was filled with all sorts of strange equipment, including a big metal X with cuffs at all four ends. A few feet away stood a wide, padded leather bench with thick straps placed at intervals along it. There was what looked like wooden stocks, with a place for the head and hands, and some kind of black rubber webbed contraption in the corner, like a human-sized spider web with strips of Velcro hanging off it. There were several thick posts that rose from floor to ceiling. One wall was entirely covered in coils of rope, lengths of chain and a terrifying array of whips, canes, riding crops and paddles as well as leather hoods and gags with brightly colored rubber balls of various sizes at their centers.

  There were windows in the room, or she presumed there were windows, but they were completely covered by heavy black satin curtains, which lent a kind of funereal air to the already eerie atmosphere of the dungeon. The place was like something out of an S&M horror movie, except this was no fantasy—it was all too terrifyingly real.

  Mia tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. Was it hunger or terror that caused the dizziness moving over her? What was going to happen to her? How many other women had he abducted, tortured and… She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.

  “Have you ever been whipped, Mia?”

  “What?” she blurted, her voice squeaking with shock. What kind of a question was that?

  Ellis gave a sudden tug on the leash and she stumbled forward, coughing as the choke collar tightened around her throat. “You forget yourself.” His voice was hard. “You will address me with respect or you will pay the price.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir,” Mia said hurriedly, gasping with relief when he released his tight hold on the chain around her neck.

  Ellis regarded her for a moment, his eyes moving slowly over her. How she longed to cover her chubby body with her hands, and to rip the choke collar from her neck. But the thought of what he would surely do to her if she did either thing kept her arms limp at her sides.

  “Answer the question,” Ellis persisted. “Have you ever been whipped?”

  “No, Sir,” Mia replied, barely able to hear herself over the thumping of her heart.

  “It can, of course, be quite painful. But it can also be a very erotic experience.”

  Mia stared blankly at the handsome man, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. She was vaguely aware of BDSM as a form of deviant sexual play, but she had certainly never engaged in it herself. She could sort of imagine an erotic scene involving silk scarves and maybe even a playful spanking with a man you loved and trusted, but she couldn’t comprehend the idea of being whipped in some lunatic’s torture chamber as anything remotely approaching the erotic.

  “I can see you don’t yet understand, but you will. You will.” Ellis gazed down at her with glittering eyes. “You’ll be whipped daily. Not only whipped, but cropped, paddled and caned. I’ll teach you to crave the whip, Mia. To beg for the cane, to plead for the paddle. You’ll learn to sexualize the experience, to associate the pain of a beating with the pleasure of sexual release, until the two are so intertwined in your psyche that you will require the one to experience the other.”

  The dizziness again assailed Mia and she swayed, feeling her knees start to buckle. A strange whistling sound filled her ears and gray spots danced before her eyes. Her
mouth filled with saliva and she suddenly realized she was going to pass out. Her eyes slid closed as the floor rose to meet her.

  Mia opened her eyes, completely disoriented. She was lying flat and staring up at the ceiling. She was restrained, thick leather straps holding her in place on a wide, padded bench, with straps across her shoulders and just below her breasts. Her legs were bent, her feet in some kind of stirrups, her bottom on the edge of the bench. Where the hell was she?

  “Welcome back.” Ellis’ deep, commanding voice jerked her into instant and total recall. She must have fainted. As if reading her mind, Ellis added, “You passed out. Luckily, I caught you. You were out for a good three minutes. I was about to splash your face with cold water.”

  Mia lifted her head as much as she was able in her restrained position. “What is this…Sir? Please, let me up. Please, Sir?”

  A small, cruel smile curved his lips. “What a silly thing to ask. Why would I go to all this trouble to tie you down, only to let you up? No, no.” Ellis shook his head. “I’ve got the wax heating. I decided this was as good a time as any to strip off that unbecoming pubic hair of yours. I’m going to give you your first Brazilian wax. At least, I assume it’s your first?”

  “Brazilian wax?” Mia repeatedly blankly, and then hastened to answer the question. “Yes, Sir. I—I don’t know what that is, Sir.” And I don’t want to find out!

  Ellis picked up a pair of barber’s scissors from a counter set against the wall beside the exam table. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I’m quite expert at it, as a matter of fact, as I never could abide pubic hair on a woman, no matter how sparse. I’ll have you smooth as a baby before you know it. The process hurts, but not nearly as much as, say, a caning on your bare cunt.”

  Mia’s blood ran cold at this terrifying pronouncement. Lifting her head, she tried to twist out of her confines but found she couldn’t move a muscle. Her arms were restrained, caught in the same wide leather strap that held down her torso, and cuffed at the wrists to the table. Her feet were strapped into the stirrups by her ankle cuffs. He’d removed the apron and hobble chain, apparently, while she’d been out cold. She let her head fall back, too wiped out by fear, hunger and exhaustion to even voice a protest, not that it would do any good.