Learning to Submit Ch. 01

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She submits to a man, but not her fianc?.
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/22/2003
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It was last year: I had just started my new job and had just gotten engaged to be married. I am a young professional woman just out of school, and at the time of this story I was 27 years old. I was excited about getting married and starting my career, but I had something to do before I got married. Little did I know that I would continue doing it after my marriage!

My name is Cecile, and I love my husband Joey, although he is not popular with my family and friends. He and I have something special together that no one else saw then or sees now. Despite my strong feelings for him, I can never tell him about the sluttish things I did – and do – with one of my friends from school, Brad.

Brad and I were friends from day one at law school, and I could tell that he wanted in my pants from the second he met me. Brad is brash where Joey is refined. They are as different as can be, but it is that difference that led me to Brad's arms. By time I was engaged I knew that before I got married I would have to sample his wares. He still leered at me when he thought I wasn't looking (or even when he knew I was), so I figured that it would be an easy sell.

I called him up one day while I was at work. I called from my cell phone after stepping into an empty conference room. He picked up after the second ring, and my heart was racing.

"Hello."

"Hi, Brad, it's Cecile..."

"Sealey! How are you doing?" He had a habit of shortening my name to Seal or Sealey, and we both knew that he was the ONLY person who could get away with calling me that.

"Brad, things are good. I have something to discuss with you, though. It's very important, and I need you to be discreet."

"Sure, Cecile, what's up?" He sounded concerned. He was brash, but I hoped that our years of friendship would mean enough to him that he would be discreet about what I had in mind.

"Um..." I said, chickening out.

I realized that if I didn't bring it up now I never would.

"I want you to fuck me." I blurted, and immediately blushed red and wanted to hang up the phone.

"Cecile? You want me to fuck you?" He sounded so natural, like I had asked him for a ride home after a game of golf.

I didn't know what to say.

"Seal," he continued "I've wanted to lay the nuts to you since I first saw you, but I need to know what the deal is here."

Lay the nuts to was one of his favourite sayings. He would often show up to school, hung over, and tell me how he had 'laid the nuts' to some 19 year old tramp he found at the bar the night before. He was a hound and he knew it. And it was the fact that he was a hound that made me want him.

"Brad, you've told me about how you sometimes get... rough... with the, the... women you meet. I have to tell you, I'm curious, and Joey is not up to the job."

"Shit, you meant it when you said 'discreet', didn't you?"

"Yes, Brad, please tell me that you're not freaked out."

I could hear him smile over the phone, and my panties got moist. "Sealey, rough is what you want, and so rough is what you'll get."

I couldn't respond, I was on the verge of orgasm. Hearing him agree to fuck me, having been so sexually open with him, and the very situation of arranging infidelity while high above the city in an office tower at work had made so hot. All I could to was breathe raggedly.

"Seal, do you want me to call you dirty names?"

"Uh huh..." I panted into the phone.

"Bitch, do you want me to spank you when you disobey?"

"Oh, Gawwwd..." I moaned too loudly.

"Whore, do you want me to dominate you and make you do dirty things that Joey has never even thought of?"

When he mentioned Joey I exploded in orgasm at the thought of how Brad was going to make me his whore while Joey was off at an art showing or the ballet. I stifled another moan into the phone.

"Seal, meet me for lunch today. We'll go to our regular place at 12:15."

He then hung up, not even asking me if I could make it. I knew that I would be there.

I went back into my office with my face flushed and, I was worried, a wet spot visible on my pants. I cleared my calendar for lunch and tried to work for the rest of the morning.

When we met for lunch, nothing seemed out of place when I first saw Brad. As we climbed the stairs to the restaurant, however, he very casually and briefly swept his hand past my bottom. We found a table and sat.

"Brad, I'm looking forward to what you have in mind, but you can't grab me in public. I said DISCREET."

He agreed and apologized, and we went on as normal, chatting and gossiping until our meals arrived. He looked around, and then told me that he had some ground rules.

"Seal, if we're going to do this thing, you have to trust me. I won't touch you in public, because you're right, it's a small town. However, when we're alone and playing, you have to agree to do whatever I say. You will have a safe word so that you can stop our games, but aside from that you have to be ready for anything."

I was dripping. "Yes, I'll be ready for anything."

"Mistake number one: You didn't call me Master. When we are alone, that is what you will call me. Got it?"

"Yessss, Master," I hissed at him. My vision was blurry, I was so horny.

"Okay, you said that Joey is out of town this weekend, so be at my place at 7:00 am on Saturday. Wear those peach coloured pants and the white blouse, you look hot in that. Take this apartment key and let yourself in and come to the bedroom."

With that, he was up and gone. Joey would be out of town for four days, not just the weekend, and I wondered – and worried – what Brad had up his sleeve.

On Saturday morning I got up and showered, thankful that Joey's plane left at 3:00am. I got dressed and agonized over which bra and panties to wear. Brad didn't specify, and so I was not sure what he wanted. I was sure that he wanted something slutty, which I really didn't have. I pulled on my laciest set and hoped that it would be okay. It seemed weird to be walking out of the house on Saturday wearing a work-suit, but it's what Brad wanted.

I got to his apartment on time and walked down the hall to his suite. I let myself in, feeling weird about just walking in to someone else's apartment. I heard Brad snoring from the bedroom.

I made my way to the bedroom and I was surprised and disgusted by what I saw. Brad's room smelled like a brewery, which was to be expected, because he had two girls in his bed with him, and they had obviously all been drinking It was clear that Brad had had his way with these two girls, both of whom appeared to be in their early twenties.

I stood there unsure of myself. I cleared my throat until one of the girls woke up. She looked over at me.

"I, uh, I have an appointment... with..." I stammered "my Master." I was staring at the floor by the time that I was done.

Brad woke up to my voice. He looked hung over and grumpy. He told the two girls to leave, now. They looked angry, but picked up their clothes and walked out of the bedroom while still getting dressed. I watched them finish dressing and go out the front door. I walked after them and locked it. I came back in to his room.

"Friends of yours?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ugh, they are sisters or something. I don't know, we fuck sometimes. I met up with them at a bar last night and one thing led to another."

I felt a pang of jealousy, which was absurd. I also felt a wave of sexual heat at the thought of Brad having sex with sisters.

"Get your ass over here," he said as he sat up in bed.

I walked to the bed.

"Okay, let's pick a safe word for you. Pick something that you can remember and that's distinctive."

"How about 'light bulb', Master?" I was getting into the 'Master' routine and it was turning me on.

"Good enough, bitch. Now, I can tell that you need some punishment already, because you disobeyed me before you even go here. You're wearing underwear. I told you to wear pants and a blouse: whores don't get to wear panties around here unless they ask permission. Strip."

And it started, just like that.

I was burning bright red, and hornier than I had ever been. I pulled off my clothes and stood there before him, stark naked.

"Good. You're even better looking than I had hoped. Now, do whores wear panties around here?"

"No."

SMACK! He slapped me – hard – right on my left bum cheek.

"No, Master!" I didn't need to be told what I had done.

He stood up and I saw that he was naked: and erect. I was terrified and turned on at the same time.

He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the bathroom.

"I was going to start out slowly with you, but I think that you need some "Shock and Awe" to show you who's boss. How well do you suck dick?"

"Not well, Master." Truth is, I never do it to Joey, because he's too polite to ask. I hate doing it, but I was soon to realize that Brad wouldn't take well to that.

"Kneel."

I did. I soon realized what was happening when he sat down on the toilet. The few times that I've been drunk, I have had stomach problems the next day. Brad drinks all the time, and I was soon to find out that he has disgusting movements the next morning. Sitting on the toilet, he grabbed me by the ears and pulled my face to his erection. I opened my mouth, remembering the smack that I had received a moment before, and before I knew it his penis was in my mouth.

"Suck."

It was awful. This is still what I dislike the most about my playtime with Brad, but I realize that it's the degradation that I crave. His dick smelled of faeces and tasted awful. His precum was leaking into my mouth, and I knew that he was going to shoot off into my mouth, too.

His bowels started to move while I was giving him head. He was pulling and pushing on my ears to force me to give him head faster and faster. Without even realizing how horny I was, I exploded in orgasm. The degradation made me not even realize how aroused I had become. Now, of course, a year later, I no longer draw a distinction between arousal and degradation.

Brad snapped me back to reality from my orgasm by shooting off into my mouth.

"You little fuckslut, you don't come without my permission. You WILL pay for that." He yelled at me and called me names while he held my mouth at the base of his dick, it shooting come into my mouth. I was terrified and yet in heaven. After he finished shooting he pulled my head from his cock.

"Lick it perfectly clean," was all he said. I happily lapped at it, on the verge of another orgasm. Here I was, a prim and proper young professional, engaging in the most degrading acts of infidelity with a man who could ruin my career, and I was more turned on than I had ever been.

"Now, clean up underneath."

I didn't know what he meant. It soon became clear by the smug look on his face, though.

I reached for the toilet paper dispenser and he yanked on my hair.

"Use your hand, bitch. You haven't earned the right to use toilet paper yet. Hell, by next week you'll be begging to use your mouth. Now, get your left hand under there and get it as clean as a whistle."

Next week? He couldn't be serious. This was supposed to be a one time event. I decided to revel in the degradation rather than bring it up.

I reached my left hand between his legs, and at first put it in too far. My hand hit the water and I flinched in disgust. That water, full of his waste, had just touched my hand. It got worse, though, as I scraped my hand along his crack, and scooped the faeces from his anus. It was hot and slimy and got all over my hand. When it was as clean as I could get it, Brad stood up over me.

"Sit on the floor, whore."

I sat back down on my butt from the kneeling position I had been in. My hand smelled terrible and had a lot of faeces on it. I was overheating with lust.

"Now, here's the deal, cunt. Wash your hand after looking at it and sniffing it. Of course, you'll also have to thank me for what just happened before you wash, as well."

I brought my left hand to my nose. My engagement ring was covered, which heightened my arousal. I sniffed deeply, the smell disgusting and arousing.

"Oh, God, thank you."

He pushed my hand onto my nose.

"Uhh, Master...thank you Master" I quickly corrected myself.

"Wash it, bitch."

I stood up and washed my hand in the sink. As I did so, Brad pulled off some toilet paper and ran it over his own ass. It did not come out clean.

"You useless bitch. I told you I wanted it clean."

"I'm sorry, Master. I did the best I could."

"Bend over, put your hands behind your back."

I did as instructed.

"Close your eyes."

I did and the world went dark.

Brad then balled up the toilet paper and pushed it up my left nostril, so that I could smell what I had missed.

"I'll be back in one second, whore, so don't you move an inch."

I stood there, bent over with my face inches from the mirror, yet unable to see through my closed eyes. I heard Brad leave and then re-enter the bathroom. He tied my hands with something and then told me to open my eyes.

"There, I tied your hand with your panties so that you can't squirm more than I want you to. Now for the second part." With that, he leaned forward, pulled the toilet paper from my nostril, and forced it into my mouth. I was so wet that I could feel my juices running down my legs.

What happened next terrified me. I saw that Brad had brought back one of his belts with my panties. He saw the terror in my eyes.

"It'll be easier on you if you relax, whore. Don't you dare scream when I beat you. If you want me to stop, just spit out your toilet paper and say 'light bulb', it's your safe word. If you use it, all games will stop and you will have to go home."

As terrified as I was, I knew that I would take the punishment.

Brad started beating me mercilessly. I took 12 lashes, and the toilet paper muffled my screams each time. While in the haze of pain and arousal, I contemplated my situation. This was so raw, so sexual, it was like nothing that I had had (or have had yet) with Joey. It was clear that Brad was in control. It was also clear that I loved it. Was it a hold-over from childhood? Some kind of fixation borne of my soft-spoken father? I didn't know. All I knew was that I had to exert more control than ever not to have an orgasm while he beat me.

When he was done, Brad rubbed some cream into my cheeks, which soothed the pain a lot. He then ordered me to kneel in front of him again. I looked forward to him letting me spit out the toilet paper, as I expected that he wanted more oral sex. What he said surprised me.

"Seal, you need to make a choice. I have wanted you for so long; I don't think that I can continue this tryst of ours without getting attached to you. I'm not asking you to leave Joey: he's obviously a better husband for you than I'll ever be. But, you need to decide right now if you want to do this on a regular basis, or if today will be the only time. If you want to be my slave on an ongoing basis, spit out that paper and suck my cock. If you want this to be the only time, spit out that paper and tell me so. Take your time and be sure of your decision, after you decide we'll have some fun in the shower."

I knelt there, my mind in turmoil. Brad has feelings for a woman? I had never heard him refer to woman as anything more than sexual creatures (with the exception of several of our mutual female friends. Past that, could I maintain a regular slave/master relationship while married to Joey?

I knew that I could keep it from Joey. I would have to, as I was not going to live without the sexual excitement that Brad offered. I looked up at Brad, and the worried yet hopeful look on his face almost made me melt.

I spit out the toilet paper. I thought after I answered him that his come tasted great.

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