Alice's Submission

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Alice begins her journey.
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Perched on the highest point of the green, uneven fields, which looked like waves frozen in time, Walter Scott's house was a sight to behold. On a foggy day, like today, the building hid its beauty until someone came very close. And when they did, it looked more like an old cathedral. The exposed, brown pattern - bricks made up the walls which rose high, cutting through the mist until they joined at the top to form a slanting roofline. Distinctive, carved wooden boards adorned the end sections of the pitch roof. The bricks were rough, on purpose. They looked incomplete. Opposite to the house, a few feet away, was a sprawling garden, rich with roses (pink and red), lisianthus, bluebells, snowdrops and white lilies. In the center, a two stepped, white fountain installation completed the garden. From afar, where he'd built a small shed to keep his tools, on clearer days, Walter Scott would sit on his garden chair and admire the building. He had built it as an homage to the gothic architects. New buildings were boring, he thought. No soul, no heart. Just computers and their hateful designs. Such blasphemy!

Today though, as the sun set and the gulls flew, singing their songs, Walter, sitting on his chair, sipping his evening tea, was not thinking of his house. Alice H Brown, his dear Alice, had called him Master today morning and not his house, or his garden, or the fountain, were good enough to seduce his mind away from her.

Just a thought of Alice, and he wanted to see her. Gulping down the rest of his drink, he walked to the ancient-looking house, his feet tapping on the illuminated pathway. For a man in his mid - forties, Walter Scott was very fit. Not magazine fit. But, fit enough to make twenty - something gym goers jealous. He didn't have abs. He had muscles that were born of hard work. Hard, physical labor. Though he had a 9 to 5 job that paid very well, Walter worked on this land every evening. It was his refuge from the chaos of the outside world. His bubble of peace and calm. As he passed the garden, Walter smiled. Months of work. Picking the plants, choosing them in a way that they would complement each other, then actually planting and nurturing them - it made him proud. Entering the house, Walter walked straight towards the room where Alice was sleeping. He stopped near the door, pausing to admire his Alice. There, on his bed, beneath the white quilt, she was sleeping. Her black hair lay tousled on the pillow as she breathed peacefully. Walter never came to grips with how lucky he was to have met her. He walked over to her sleeping figure and removed the covers off her. Kneeling beside the king size bed, he ran his fingers over the delicate, ivory color skin of her face. He held the bridge of her pointed nose for a moment, before trailing his fingers on her lips. Large, ripe, pink lips. Lips that looked so enticing when wrapped around his cock. Unable to resist anymore, Walter undressed.

Alice H Brown opened her legs wider. She wasn't completely awake yet, but she knew what was happening. Walter was waking her up. To be precise, his tongue was. Between her legs, just below her clit, he was drawing circles. Just there, incessant, without a pause, he kept lapping at her, holding her hips when she began to grind. Half awake, Alice moaned. She loved being woken up like this. Her hands moved to his hair, bunching them in her hand, she pulled him closer. Walter paused for a moment.

"You're awake, love?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," Alice moaned. "Please don't stop."

Her hips rose higher as Walter resumed his caressing. She felt control deserting her as passion took over. Walter, at times, like today, could be a very delicate lover. But one thing he never did, was rush. He took delight in making her beg for what she craved, extracted every ounce of pleasure that he could, before giving her mind - numbing orgasms. And as he relished her, Alice was very close to begging. She clutched the sheets in her hands, her need mounting as his tongue worked its magic, gliding on her wet folds. Walter stopped for a moment. Alice lifted her head from the pillow to look and what she saw made her blush. He was inhaling her scent, her arousal. Unable to look, she let her head down and bit her lip.

Walter let out a chuckle and kissed her sensitive nub. He loved her blushes for they reminded him of their first few days together. Hiding her charms, blushing furiously when he made her display herself for him, trying to control the noises she made, but eventually losing control and screaming her way through orgasms. He wanted to fuck her, now. He wanted to hear her scream, see her blush, laugh as she tried to suppress her desires. Today, now, as black splashed the skies outside and the night chill set in, Walter wanted to fall in love with Alice all over again. With a final kiss to her thighs, he got up.

Alice looked at Walter as he stood up and drank her beauty. His eyes moved all over her body before meeting hers. With a smile dancing on his face, in long, slow strokes, Walter began to masturbate. Sure, there were things that made her blush even today, but Alice was a changed woman. She no longer hid herself. As Walter gawked at her, she encouraged him. Pulling the back of her feet to her ass, she spread her thighs, offering her love, complete view of her pussy. She wanted him to look. Look at how, under his stare, her nipples got hard. How wet she was, how much she wanted him to fuck her. Grazing her slick pussy with a finger, she put on her best puppy face and asked, "Will you please fuck me Master?"

She got the response she wanted. Walter's cock twitched and in that deep voice, like the low rumbles of the deep oceans, he commanded, "Turn over."

With a mischievous grin on her face, Alice obliged. She felt his hands on her hair, stroking, before bunching it in his hands.

"You've turned into such a slut, love," he said and kissed her ear.

Exposed, unguarded, Alice took a sharp breath as Walter's hand moved to her ass. He cupped her right cheek before giving it a tight slap. He liked the way her flesh bounced when he slapped her. Getting on the bed, he knelt beside her and delivered another spank. Alice moaned. Walter smiled as her ass began to take on a pink shade.

"How well she bruises," he thought, bringing down his hand again and grinned when an "ohh...," escaped Alice's mouth. He brought his lips down to her ass and kissed.

Alice, on her part, wanted more. Supporting her weight on her elbows, she lifted her ass up. That seemed to do the trick.

"What a wanton slut," she heard Walter say and the slaps got harder.

Over the course of the last few months, Alice had discovered that she loved being humiliated. It stirred up an inexplicable, deep seated desire. She thought of the first time he had called her a slut. They were on this very bed and Walter was beside her, his fingers in her cunt. She was blindfolded and as he fucked her with his fingers, he had kissed her ear and whispered.

"Come for me, slut," he had said.

Alice was shocked that he would say such a thing but was terrified when she found herself climaxing, hard. It was the best orgasm of her life.

Now, as the pain rose, so did her pleasure. Alice let her head down and let her Master take complete control and surrendered to him and to the pain. She shrieked when the spanks came down hard and moaned when he washed the pain away with his lips and tongue.

Walter couldn't contain himself anymore. Watching her lovely ass go red and hearing her soft moans made him want to bury his cock inside Alice. He got up and retrieved two pairs of black, leather cuffs from his cupboard of toys. The cuffs, in fact, every toy in this room, Walter had specifically bought for Alice. The ropes were thick, for she liked them that way. Initially she preferred small plugs, but as they played more and more, he'd shown her the joys of bigger plugs and vibrators. And she had surprised him every step of the way. From being hesitant to even hold a dildo in her hand, Alice, now from time to time, fucked herself with it as he watched.

Alice waited. She couldn't see what Master was doing, for he was on the opposite side of the room and even if she could, the instructions were very clear from early on. She wasn't supposed to look. Anything that needed seeing would be shown. And for a tough taskmaster in her professional life, Alice loved to obey Walter. She'd come to realize that, somewhere deep inside, she had an immense desire to please. Master had recognized and nurtured it, and all the while, she only got stronger. She heard metal clanking but could make out nothing. Too generic a noise. It was dark now. And the only illumination was the corridor light that spilled over into this room.

"Hands next to your legs," Walter said and everything became clear. Like the wonderful sub she was, Alice put her face on the pillow and moved her hands so that they were next to her calves. Her hard nipples ached when they rubbed against the sheet. Under the pretense of adjusting herself, she did it again. The pain was exquisite, until she felt a firm spank on her ass.

"Keep that up and you'll end up with a lot more pain than you like," Walter warned.

Alice found herself still after that as her left hand and then her left ankle were bound together. The cuffs had considerable play. She could move pull her hands well beyond her knees before the chain went taut. Alice's right hand and ankle were bound similarly within moments.

Walter stepped back and feasted his eyes on the sight before him. Alice was fidgeting with the cuffs, pulling them back and forth but his eyes focused on what lay between her supple, voluptuous ass cheeks.

Alice felt the head of Master's cock kiss her cunt. She closed her eyes as Walter ran his cock along the length of her pussy. This was torture. But, she did not have to wait long before he started fucking her. Even the gentlest of love making sessions they had, had an element of harshness to it. When he fucked, Alice wasn't his lover, wasn't dear Alice. She was there for his use and he took her the way it pleased him. And in positions he desired. Like she, her body, belonged to him. It had shocked Alice that she liked it, in fact, loved being used.

Now, as her body rocked to the rhythm he set, Alice was loving every moment of it. Restrained, face on the pillow, she was alive. Her nipples brushed the sheets, sending sharp little pangs of pain right to her cunt. Alice groaned. With each unforgiving thrust, she felt her pussy stretch, accommodating his erection. She thrashed her hands, pulling them closer to her face, while pushing her hips towards Walter. Amidst the vile noises coming out of her mouth and the fist clenching and banging, Alice's need mounted. And as if to satisfy just that, Walter grabbed her hair and pulled, lifting her pretty face off the pillow. Alice screamed, the new pain throwing her already frenzied body into a new dimension of madness. The pain only increased with every passing second.

"Ow. Fuck, it hurts..., please" Alice begged, her voice muffled in between raw screams and her hands thrashing about, to the extent they could.

In reality though, she did not want him to stop. The pain was real, but it fueled her arousal. She clung onto it, accepting and reveling in the pleasure it brought. Under her Master's unrelenting provocations, Alice's orgasm hit her. Her muscles clenched around his cock and he kept fucking her.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Alice cried, her fingers forming a fist beside her legs. She bit her lip hard and felt her tender flesh bruise. She felt Walter's hand let go of her hair and grip her hips tightly. She twisted around the anchor he created as her body slowly went numb, blind to everything around, except for the pleasure that was washing over her. As she descended, she felt Walter come inside her. His grip loosened and with a soft thud, Alice let her face fall on the pillow.

***

A few months earlier:

Alice lay in bed after shower, unsure about tomorrow. Unsure about what she wanted to do tomorrow. A fun night, that is all it was supposed to be. Meaningless sex is what she wanted. Instead, it had turned into a night of discovery and Alice feared, that from within the depths of her mind, something sinfully joyous had emerged. Here, on this bed, yesterday, Walter had fucked her. Alice thought about it again. About how he had made her strip in front of him. How, under his cold stare, she had peeled off her clothes.

Presently, Alice found herself touching her breasts through the robe. She loosened the belt and let the thick, white wool fall. She didn't bother to remove it. Instead her hand found the flesh of her left breast. She cupped it, the way he had. His large fingers had felt harsh against her delicate skin. He had then toyed with her hard nipples, squeezing them between his forefinger and thumb. She had shrieked at the sudden pain. Pain, which felt inexplicably good. As Alice repeated his motions, her other hand travelled downwards. Brushing away the robe, fingers teased her swollen nub. Alice moaned. As she caressed her sensitive clit with increasing eagerness, her mind drifted to Walter's inspection. After she stripped, Alice had stood still, unable to look at him. Walter had walked over and stood very close to her slightly trembling body. With one hand on her hip, he had traced her outline with his other hand. The memory of Walter's hand when he reached her pussy made Alice shudder. The way he had lifted her head up and kissed while his fingers dipped into her cunt. She had moaned in his mouth. Now, fucking herself with two fingers, Alice wished he were here, stroking her wet folds the way he had, making her legs tremble.

"Don't come," he had said, thrusting his fingers faster, deeper into her.

"But... Oh my god, I... can't," she had whined, but held on. She had obeyed and it had felt so incredibly good.

With memory spurring her on, Alice buried her fingers deeper into her sex, moaning as she pictured Walter on top of her, his cock sliding in and out. How she had screamed as he pumped into her relentlessly. How, the heat of both sexes meeting had her begging for more. And under his command, how hard she had climaxed. As Alice relived the exquisite memory, her orgasm hit her. Her legs clenched and throughout her scream-filled climax, Alice kept rubbing her clit, squeezing out every last drop of pleasure before she lay there, exhausted, but satisfied.

The next day, Walter headed home, his heart beating faster than it had in a while. He had spent the previous night with Alice. Work had drawn him away from her this morning before he could talk to her. It was supposed to be a fling, a sex-night. But when he had woken up with Alice curled up against him, his will had weakened. He wanted to see this girl again, and perhaps, if possible, again. The way Alice carried herself intrigued Walter. She came across as fierce when they met, but underneath all that fire, she seemed to take pleasure in pleasing him, in obeying him. The way she blushed and yet wanted to do more, the way she hid and yet begged to be explored, her little yelps and yowls as he inflicted pain - Walter liked that she was a delightful combination of rebellion and innocence. Before leaving her rather enormous apartment, Walter had left a note on the table next to her bed. It said:

This time, I want to take off your clothes myself. If you want that,

I expect you at my home by 8, tomorrow night.

Walter Scott.

Behind the card, he had jotted down his address and left her place.

Walter went through a few reports after he reached home. As he closed the last file, he looked at his timepiece. It read 8:08. His heart sank. She hadn't shown up.

"Ah, well. Maybe it wasn't meant to be," Walter said to the empty room.

He walked to the small bar at the end of the room and poured himself some gin. It was ridiculous, to expect a girl to just show up after just spending a night. He fired up his laptop and tried to bury himself in work. To an extent, he was successful as well. Apart from being distracted by a few mischievous memories, Walter got considerable work done, until, at precisely fifteen minutes past nine, he heard two knocks on the door.

He opened the door and a smile crept into his face. Standing before him, wrapped in a beautiful blue skirt, with a nervous smile on her pretty face and a dimple on her left cheek, stood Alice.

"Sorry, I'm late," she said.

"It's alright. Come in, you'll pay for it," came Walter's swift, cold reply.

***

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