Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series (16 page)

It's like someone had trained him not to be followed. Armin had given up on taking these
concerns
to The Boss. "We're not exactly in the
family man
business Armin.” he'd said. And then it was like a light had come on, "You stupid
fuck
! Is that why you've been looking so exhausted in the morning? Focusing on K instead of our
merchandise?"
And oh yeah, then he'd slapped Armin to the floor with his meaty palm. "No! Don't get up! Stay down there!” He’d grabbed him by his collar and hit him again with a closed fist back to the floor bloodying his mouth just for good measure, then had pointed. "Let K have his
privacy
. He's here like clockwork delivering his reports every two weeks and keeping me updated.
Unlike you
who's become more and more sporadic! Leave him alone!” He'd turned his back on him. "No, don’t get up! Crawl outta here, like the dog you are, I have work to do." He’d said before returning to the work on his desk.

Armin was not going back to The Boss again until he at least had
that slut
with him and could take K’s computer back with him proving that K was dirty. Every time that
dirty slit
they’d sold him was mentioned, K would change the subject or leave the room. He had a feeling losing her would cause K to become
unsettled
enough to make a mistake. Men like him didn't take to the loss of their "property" easily.

That's when he'd concocted this plan. K's black truck was just ahead slicing through the night. Out of nowhere, a beat up old powder blue Toyota Tercel came out of nowhere, curving around Armin on the left on it’s donut like tires and coming alongside K’s sleek vehicle smashing into its left front fender, forcing him to pull over to the right side of the road.

Perfect.

The middle aged hippy Armin had hired staggered out. "Aw man look at that! I'm sorry! Wow!" A “
highin'
” conversation ensued as K reluctantly climbed down from his damaged Ford to confront the unbalanced string bean blond headed man with the dreads and clouded ice blue eyes. Armin pulled his sleek, dark, royal violet jaguar over quietly and approached from behind. He exited his car on the passenger side closing the door with a quiet snick. He almost couldn’t contain the excitement spreading from his belly. He quelled it down as he approached on his expensive padded feet to K's massive tires sneakily planting another bug.

The hippy/actor was going on - getting into the roll, buying Armin enough time to get back in his car. K eventually gave up trying to reason with him, snippets of the conversation floated to him on the night air:
Drunk fool... You hit me!... No insurance
. Eventually K stalked back to his truck a few moments later, seriously agitated, his fist clutched and teeth grinding and
really
eager to be off; that must be one hot piece of ass he had waiting for him. Finally, back in the truck he shifted gears and pulled off.

Armin pulled out the receiver and smiled.

* * *

He’d returned again as promised, right before the start of the third day, and Francine couldn't believe it, he’d actually brought her back the pizza. She bit into another bite, prosciutto and pineapple with a thin crust, her absolute favorite. She was polishing off her third slice and was wishing she had a second stomach so she could have more. She felt gratitude and a spark of happiness well up within her, right before the usual guilt kicked in. Why did he keep doing these things to her, making her feel this way?

The days had begun to pass at a leisurely pace, her research, his work, the exercise, the movies, a card game; the food, wine and...sex.

The scientist in her even spent some time mentally trying to pick apart what was in the pleasant smelling ointment he’d used on her after her scratches from outside, and the stinging, tantalizing switch. Moving past her conflicted thoughts about that she’d sniffed delicately, than inhaled deeply trying to mentally shift through the ingredients. It hit the back of her tongue before expanding in her lungs filling her with peace de-stressing her. It had felt so soothing to her tender bottom just like it had when he’d used it on her ankles and calves after her nicks from the bush outside. She’d had a lot of time to think about
many
things when he was gone, and she wasn't in an orgasm induced fog.

He’d also brought back a mani pedi kit complete with an array of nail polishes. Upon seeing them she’d done her best not to squeal like a little girl. His gifts were becoming more and more enticing, drawing her out of her shell like a turtle reaching for the sun. Every return was starting to feel like Christmas morning. She remembered to the first time she saw the clothes laid out he’d brought her. Skimpy. She hadn't really wanted to accept or use them either, but after weeks without a mani pedi, she’d only be punishing herself. It was so worth the look on his face anyway when she presented herself after making use of the pretty shades of blue and silver. Hey, when you had a Dom that kept you in flip flops most of the time you wanted to keep it as interesting as possible right?

He’d bought the pizza slightly underdone, and once back he’d cooked it the rest of the way in the cabin’s ancient oven so it would be perfect for her. It would never have occurred to Francine that pizza could travel in such a way. Who’s taught him these things? The cheese was smooth in it’s consistency, the prosciutto spicy and soft, the pineapples firm and sweet.

While she savored every bite, he positioned himself across from her at their small table. His look was curious and growing hotter by the minute. Finally she had to know, did he really have to look at her while she ate it?
Yes,
he had said,
her pleasure was his to enjoy
,
all of her pleasure.
She guessed that made sense, even she knew the pizza was orgasm on a plate, she probably
was
putting on quite the show (she didn't even want to even think about the little sounds she was making).

She had wanted to tell
insert Italian name that begins with a K here
to leave her and her pizza in private, but then she realized,
hey
, there
were no
Italian names that began with K! She’d have to Google it to be sure, but she was pretty sure that was the case.

She could ask K to Google it, but was not sure how
that
request would go over either. Hey
Kaaaaay
, I know you’ve asked me from the first day you brought me here not to be mouthy, but can you look up this little known fact about names for me? Oh no reason, just so that I can harass you some more about your name in my spare time.
Thanks Sir!!

Oh yeah, she was sure he’d looove that. Right before they found out how tired his spanking arm was, as if he needed any more excuses for that. Francine returned to her plate trying not to shift too much at the thought.

He waited until she was done and had swallowed her last sip of juicy Chardonnay. As he picked up her plate to take to the sink he said, “Take off your clothes Francine”.
Oh, here we go, that didn't take long,
she thought. He’d barely been back two hours, this had to be a new record...

While he was at the sink she stripped of her peach tank, pink and white striped bra underneath and white shorts along with the peach pastel panties she was wearing underneath to match and when he returned she was sitting on her chair in the nude looking up at him with her soft brown eyes.

He motioned for her to stand and took her in his arms warm against his body kissing her hard and deep until she melted against him, his lips turning soft, brushing over hers. Then he set her back a bit taking her breast in both hands, “You have the best tits Francine,” he said as he worked them squeezing the pink nipples until they bunched up. “They’re one of the reasons I can’t keep my hands off you.” He looked at the pretty face that had come to mean so much to him. “I like these pretty pink lips too,” he rubbed his thumb over them, dipped it inside, she sucked. “You keep them so soft.”
The fancy medicated chapstick you give me
, she thought, again, not wanting to say it, her heart speeding up inside her rib cage.

He took off his thick black sweat shirt and put it on the floor, “Kneel on that and open your mouth.” Francine kneeled before him hands behind her back and took his cock in her mouth using her tongue like he had taught her, immediately his breath changed. His eyes lit with pleasure, but he was in control of himself. Francine loved his response, it motivated her and she began to focus, working him like the imaginary melting treat he had suggested she use as a muse. His voice was just a little breathy when he said, “Your hands are not bound, so I’m going to teach you how to use them today. Use one as an extension of your mouth, up and down; use the other to cup and squeeze my balls, squeeze until I tell you to stop.” He continued to give her step by step instructions and she quickly got the hang of it, working him was really
fun.

She put her hand over the soft black jeans and said softly "May I Sir?"

"Yes" He responded his voice thicker like sweet syrup, he was really exposed now, legs slightly open, jutting out, perfect. She went right to work, licking along the impressive undersides before taking it inside her mouth, using her soft pink tongue like he had taught her.

Remembering something she learned in a book one time she looked for the sign she had read about and stopped, pulling back, before continuing.
Little minx!
“Whoa! Wait a minute.” He said, pulling back.
No, she didn't want to!
He grabbed her hair close to the scalp, not enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across and put steel in his voice. “Slave pose Francine.”

Making a frustrated noise she assumed the submissive pose on her knees, her hands behind her back still sucking her lips, eyes on his cock, clearly wanting it back in her mouth,
not wanting to be in slave pose.
She’s hated slave pose from the moment he’d taught it to her. “Where did you learn that?” He asked.

“What sir?”

“What you just did Francine?” She finally shifted her eyes to look at him, she knew what she was doing, there was a glint of power behind her hazel gaze. “That was
not
a submissive act Francine.”

“You
liked
it
sir
.” She said power as power crept into her voice now as well.

“You want to try to Top me Francine?” He said. “Is that what you’re trying to do?” He bent down and scooped her up and put her over his shoulder carrying her into the bedroom where he laid her on the bed in a 69 position with both of them on their sides. The duvet was soft beneath her naked body.

“Go ahead Francine,” he invited, “and take me back in your mouth. I did like what you did, do it again.” Looking at him, trying to remain confident with him a lot closer now to her aroused flesh (sucking on him earlier had already made her damp) she went back to his gloriously large, beautiful penis. It was like silk encased steel and soon she had him worked up again, but this time when she pulled away she felt him begin to work her.
Oh no-

His skilled finger circled and brushed over her puffy engorged flesh, rubbed gently, then more firmly at her clustered g spout until she whimpered, ready to come. Then he stopped, “Continue with your blow job Francine, do what you did again. I
really
did
like what you’re doing.”

She turned and her legs would have closed for balance “Keep your legs open Francine, I like looking at your wet pussy. Balance yourself with a pillow if you need to.” With her legs spread open, the air brushing against her wet flesh she went back to his blow job, she was very hungry now, she wanted release so badly, wanting him to come so badly, but if he came this way would he give her release with his fingers? By the look on his face he didn't seem in a very generous mood. Besides he had said he wanted more of her teasing, why had she decided to do this again? Oh yes, for about two seconds she had felt powerful, had unknowingly stepped outside of her “sub” role.

This time when she pulled away, he started on her again. Helplessly she began to beg, her thighs trembling now, “Please sir, please.”

“OK Francine, since you want to be ‘on Top’ tonight.” He grabbed her and laid on his back, she slid down his long length, he’d never taken her this way before. “Ride me.” he said.

“I’m trying-” she sputtered, “I’m not sure how, I don’t really like this position.” Her face was pursed in a frustrated expression.

He let a half smile cross his face, “Somehow that doesn't surprise me Francine.” he showed her how, it wasn't his favorite either, but he was making a point. “Move like this.” she did and let out a moan, the movements were actually nice, hitting her g spot in a new and interesting way. Of course, he didn't want her to get too carried away. “Francine, say ‘
if you put your finger in my ass this would feel even better sir’.”

Her pussy muscles clenched at the thought, she liked the idea, but the words staggered out; she
did not
like having to say them. Unfortunately, he had had enough of her “power” for the evening. “Say it again Francine and hand me that lube.”