Her Submission Read online

  HER SUBMISSION

  By Vonna Harper

  Vonna Harper Note: Her Submission, like the rest of my erotica about the world of masters and slaves is pure fiction. My website www.VonnaHarper.com contains the article Bondage Fantasies which examines the healthy role domination and submission fantasies play in a substantial number of people’s lives. In brief, those mental images provide escape from the pressures of modern life.

  That’s what my stories are, escapism.

  And for the readers who value writers’ countless hours of work by purchasing ebooks instead of reading and returning them for credit, thank you. Like everyone else, writers are trying to make a living.

  Chapter one

  “Don’t move. Focus your entire being on what’s about to happen. Let it become your world. Accept my control.”

  Eyes tearing, Kaci struggled not to bolt. She’d started shaking the moment Master unlocked the door to her cell because last night he’d said today would take her deeper into herself than she’d ever been. Because she knew not to ask for an explanation, she’d spent the night trying to wrap her mind around his words.

  “Stand straighter. Show pride in your exquisite body.”

  Weeks under his control had taught her to obey his every command. Besides, he was right. Despite the whip marks, her body was a thing of beauty. He’d repeatedly told her so and she believed him. Not taking her attention off him, she squared her shoulders. Her arms with the metal cuffs around her wrists remained at her sides. She pressed her legs together until the metal welded to her ankles touched. Her heavy collar forced her to work at keeping her head up.

  “Good, slave. To begin, I want you to describe your breasts to me.”

  Surely he hadn’t reminded her of last night’s message or brought her out of her cell simply to listen to her repeat words she’d uttered countless times, and yet she had no choice but to obey. Sometimes he made her apologize for trembling, but this morning his expression made her hope he was simply enjoying his power over her.

  “My—my breasts are large for the rest of me. I wear a D cup bra that—“

  “What do you wear now?”

  “Nothing, Master.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Be—because that’s what you want, Master. You want my body always available to you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “That’s right, slave. Go on.”

  He hadn’t touched her today. Most mornings began with a leisurely exploration of her naked body by hands capable of both great tenderness and terrifying cruelty. She never knew which it would be.

  “My, ah, my nipples are dark in contrast to the rest of my breasts. The areola is—you say my areola the largest you’ve ever seen.” The longer she returned his gaze the harder it was to remember what she looked like. Master had crawled into her mind and body and claimed both for his use and amusement. He’d left so little of her that—

  “My breasts sag a little, but you tell me I shouldn’t be ashamed. Instead I should take pride in their size and weight. They are gifts to you, yet another part of my body designed for one purpose, to please my master.”

  “How do I demonstrate my pleasure, slave?”

  His tone had changed slightly, just enough that she knew he was getting ready to take another step in her education. “Many ways.” A memory of the last time he’d whipped her breasts compelled her to shake her head in a futile attempt to escape it.

  “Be still, slave! What was that about?”

  Fear lapped at her. Somehow she kept it from overwhelming her. “I—I’m so sorry, Master. I was thinking…”

  “Of your latest lesson in self-control.” He reached out and stroked the side of her neck above her collar. “It was perhaps the most intense one I’ve given you to date.”

  To date? “I, ah, Master, do you want me to continue?” Her voice wavered and her thigh and calf muscles knotted in preparation for fleeing, but she knew better. Not only couldn’t she escape, he’d undoubtedly punish her attempt.

  “I don’t believe I do. You’ve demonstrated at least a rudimentary ability to compartmentalize. I ordered you to focus on your breasts and you did. Now can you guess why I put you through that particular exercise?”

  Master was all grey eyes and a body many times stronger than hers. Determination she now lacked defined him, and he appeared calm in contrast to her constant turmoil.

  “No, Master, I don’t know except—you said you’d take me deep into myself today.” Hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop her nails from pressing into her palms. Her toes dug at the cement floor.

  He gave her another of his non-smiles. “You remembered. I trusted you would. Stay where you are while I get what I need for this journey.”

  No! she wanted to scream when he walked over to a corner of the room where the table laden with his so-called tools stood. You can’t expect me to stand here like an animal brought to slaughter!

  But she’d stood and taken her punishment before because she had no choice. Today wouldn’t be any different.

  Then he held up what he’d selected, and she understood her sanity was about to be tested.

  Nipple clamps. Silver. Shinning and new. The ultimate contrast to her dark flesh. So large that one filled his palm while the other, attached by a heavy chain, dangled.

  Whimpering, she took an involuntary backward step.

  “Ah, no,” he said in his overly calm tone. “Self-mastery, slave. I’m waiting for you to demonstrate the strides you’ve made in overcoming instinct. Until you’ve accomplished that to my satisfaction, these lessons will have to continue.”

  He flexed his wrist so the loose clamp started swinging back and forth. Fascinated despite her fear, she studied it. Let it hypnotize her.

  Her legs remained planted under her as he slowly approached. No matter that her breathing had become ragged and she’d started sweating, she’d do what she must.

  “Are you restrained this morning?” he asked.

  “No, Master.”

  “Then there’s nothing keeping you here? You could leave if you wanted?”

  “No, I can’t,” she answered because he wanted that from her. “The dungeon is locked. You blindfolded me when you brought me to this place so I don’t know where I am. I’m naked and barefoot.”

  “And ready for restraint, don’t forget that.”

  As if she could. She tore her gaze off the deadly nipple clamp and held up her hands. The thick cuffs gleamed in the overhead light. Next, continuing the ritual he’d beaten into her, she touched her collar. “Ready for restraint, Master.”

  He smiled. “Just checking your recall. Place your hands behind you and link your fingers together. No matter what I do, you are not to alter that position.” He changed the swinging clamp’s direction so it struck her belly. “If you’re unable to comply I’ll be forced to handcuff you. You don’t want me to do that.”

  The last time he’d cuffed her had been when she’d failed to mouth fuck him to his satisfaction. He’d left her restrained like that all night, and in the morning, she’d had no choice but to lap her cold cereal from a bowl on the floor. He’d further demonstrated his displeasure by whipping her as she knelt at his feet.

  Despite the tremors charging through her, she did as he’d commanded. Having her arms behind her thrust out her breasts. Fear had already tightened her nipples. Now heat bloomed in her pussy in anticipation of what he might do beyond inflicting pain. Even as she resisted her sexual responsiveness, it would make enduring the unendurable easier. Pleasurable. She licked her lips.

  “Pavlov would love you,” Master said. “He’d hold you up as proof that a creature can be conditioned to respond to anything.”

  He was likening her to a dog but wasn’t that what she’
d become?

  What he’d turned her into.

  He gathered up the loose clip. “I haven’t used these on you before because I was waiting for the right occasion. They look like pure silver, but you know my preference for metal. Not only is metal cheaper and more durable, it’s heavier.”

  Heavier.

  Swirling emotions closed around her. She all but forgot about her empty stomach and unwashed body. Her pussy remained moist and hot even though there was no guarantee he’d bring her to climax. Waiting for him to do what he would to her became her world. She understood his intention, knew he’d move at a pace designed to keep her off balance. Each second without pain should be cherished only she couldn’t think beyond when that would end.

  Holding a clamp in each hand, he drew his arms apart until the linking chain was stretched tight. Her breathing intensified until she wondered if she might hyperventilate.

  “Good slave.” He extended his right hand toward her left breast. “You don’t want to flinch because there’ll be hell to pay if you do. I was told these don’t pinch and that pressure from the springs will keep them in place indefinitely. If they don’t perform as advertised, I’ll ask for a refund.”

  One inch became two followed by more of the deadly approach. She sucked in her belly and started to sink away from him only to stop when he growled. Her mouth wouldn’t close and sweat ran down her sides. Her nails again dug into her flesh.

  “Excellent self-control,” he said, “but we both know how difficult maintaining that condition is. The moment this seizes hold of your nipple—“ He demonstrated by opening the clamp all the way. “The pain will begin. You’ve experienced it before, but this is the first time I’m requiring you to bring yourself above the discomfort. To master it instead of surrendering.”

  He was using his sing-song voice but much as she tried to absorb it, she couldn’t take her attention off the deadly jaws. He was killing her with his slowness, torturing her with anticipation, forcing her to become something beyond herself.

  “I need you to do this for me, slave. To prove without a doubt that you understand our relationship and your new role in life.” He positioned the gaping clamp over her rigid nipple. “The sooner you do what’s necessary, the sooner you’ll experience more pleasure than pain. What else? Can you remember what I told you?”

  He’d thrown tens of thousands of words at her, and although she’d tried with everything in her to follow them all, too many were lost within the mess her mind had become. Desperate to put off the horrible moment of ultimate capture as long as possible, she said the first thing she thought of. “You, ah, you want to be proud of me, Master. To be able to show me off to others of your kind. To know they envy our relationship.”

  A few weeks ago the way he cocked his head would have made her think she’d pleased him, but she’d learned that the gesture meant she hadn’t lived up to his exacting standards. The door to freedom was only a few feet away. If she managed to knock him off his feet, she might escape before he could stop her.

  No she couldn’t.

  “That’s part of it,” he acknowledged. Metal warmed by his hand touched her nipple, making her flinch. “But have you forgotten that I derive great pleasure from seeing you suffer?”

  No! Please, not that! “I, ah, I haven’t forgotten, Master.”

  “Good then.” His expression softened enough that if she didn’t know better she’d believe he was taking pity on her. “I didn’t think you would. It’s hard keeping track of everything I’m teaching you. I’ll grant you that.” He sighed. The clamp pressed lightly against her flesh. “My fingers are growing tired. Time for you to do everything you’re capable of to please me.”

  Once again she fought the desire, the desperate need to beg him not to hurt her but he’d taught her that such pleas were useless. Swallowing repeatedly and gripping her wrists with all her strength, she waited.

  Dread lanced her.

  “Straighten, slave. Show pride in your ability to suffer.”

  From a reservoir deep inside, she found the insane courage to do as he’d ordered. Panting, she stared at him so she wouldn’t have to look at his hand. Bit by bit the pressure against her swollen nipple increased. In a dim and unimportant way she knew he was drawing out the moment of ultimate capture.

  Pressure gave way to pain. Fingers of agony spread over her breast and reached her throat. More discomfort settled in her belly. Undone, she tore her gaze from the man who owned her and stared down at what he’d done to her. The nipple clamp was fastened to her, a potent and powerful monster she didn’t dare tear off her. Deep, rapid breaths did nothing to lessen the hated sensations. Sobbing, she curled in around herself.

  “Good. Let this exquisite tool’s mastery spread over you. You can’t free yourself from it, can you, slave? If you try, I’ll simply restrain you and start over, won’t I?”

  Speak! Don’t beg. “Yes Master, you will.”

  He brushed his knuckles over the side of her neck. “Do you want me to do that? Maybe it’d be easier if responsibility for your body is out of your control. You wouldn’t have to do anything except endure. No being forced to exhibit self-restraint.”

  Master loved giving her choices, not that they really were. Regardless of what she said, the outcome would be the same. Pain. Maybe answering him didn’t matter. Today was nothing more than something to get through. But once she’d been a woman who made decisions and was in charge of her life. Despite everything he’d subjected her though, the core of that woman still existed.

  She no longer had the pride that went with being able to clothe herself but facing herself was easier if she believed she wasn’t completely broken.

  Yet.

  “I’ll stand here, Master. Not—not try to get away.”

  “Of course you will, my pet. I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with you otherwise.”

  He’d continued stroking her neck during their short exchange, but she’d known better than to be lulled into believing he’d taken pity on her. Pity wasn’t part of his makeup. Still fighting the dread that had become a constant, she stood straight. At his slight frown, she arched her spine and presented her breasts fully to him. She tried not to beg with her eyes but wasn’t sure how well she succeeded. Besides, he knew what she was thinking, what she was praying for.

  He knew everything about her.

  “You have incredible breasts, slave.” He positioned the clamp over her unencumbered nipple. “I take great pride in them.”

  How could he say that? Her breasts belonged to her, not him. Or at least they had until he’d captured her. Anymore she wasn’t sure whether there was still a place where he let off and she began.

  Biting, clawing agony this time! No half instant in which to ready herself! A sharp whine escaped from behind her clenched teeth but she managed to remain in place while shaking from the hot, hard discomfort.

  “Look down at yourself. See what I’ve done to you.”

  Her legs burned and her knees felt so weak she wasn’t certain they’d continue supporting her. In her mind’s eye she saw herself collapse before him. She wouldn’t try to remove the nipple clamps because he’d beat her if she did, but she would wrap her arms around his legs and beg him to free her. She’d become a whipped dog.

  “A work of art, slave. A magnificent example of what I’ve turned you into. Look. See if you don’t agree.”

  Although she was afraid to take her gaze off him—he’d proven his capacity for sudden cruelty enough times—she did as Master commanded. Because the oversized clamps covered them, she could no longer see her nipples. Unnatural weight pulled her breasts down. The exquisite—yes it was that—chain hung between her breasts, swaying in and out and tugging anew with every move. She couldn’t help but admire the contrast between soft female flesh and a well-made instrument of torture.

  Harsh restraint. Helplessness. What he wanted her to be. Maybe worthy of reward.

  “Turn around.”

  He knew she did
n’t want to move which was exactly why he’d said what he had. Even as she sent the command to her legs, she wondered if he’d ever attached clamps to his own nipples. Did he know what it felt like or did his knowledge come from watching her? Her and other captives who’d come before her.

  She tried to rotate away from him while keeping her upper body as motionless as possible so the chain wouldn’t swing any more than it already was, but fear made her clumsy. Her feet tangled, causing her to stumble. She shrieked.

  “Ah, sorry,” he said from behind her as she tried to blink away hot tears. “It wasn’t my intention to have that happen.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “However, there’s no one you can blame except yourself.”

  Her breasts burned so she could barely concentrate. Much as she wanted to scream at him that every bit of discomfort she’d experienced since he’d taken over her world was his doing, she knew better. His fingers ground into her shoulder blades, preventing her from moving.

  “I don’t want a clumsy slave. Until or unless you’ve become graceful I have no choice but to keep you to myself. Your every move and every inch of your body reflects on me, your master. I’m a hard man to please. If you are unable to live up to my standards, I’ll have no choice but to sell you.”

  This was hardly the first time he’d brought up selling her. Part of her embraced anything that would take her from him but would another master be any better? At least he spoke to her. Someone else might consider her little more than an animal.

  More to the point, Master understood that a slave remained a sexual being. He granted her pleasure.

  Sometimes.

  “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t keep a whimper out of her voice. “Master.”

  He let go of her with his right hand. A heartbeat later he slapped her buttocks. “Almost forgot to call me Master, didn’t you?

  His blow had been hard enough to knock her forward, as she was sure he intended. Agony streamed through her. She couldn’t take her attention off the wildly swaying chain. Suddenly her own fingers were on it. Whimpering, she tried to stop the instrument of torture from moving.