Male Sub Ch. 07

Author's Foreword—

This is my fifteenth submission to Literotica, and the seventh chapter in my Male Submissive series. I recommend you have a read of Chapter Six to understand what's going on in this chapter. All my stories are open for written comments and voting is encouraged. Also feel free to visit my profile to access the archive of my older postings for your reading enjoyment.

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Chapter Seven — The Trainee

Maribel was in a funk.

A week had passed since discovering her boss had a sex slave at her command. She held her silence as ordered upon witnessing the unknown man's naked but blanket-covered body between Brandy's legs as he orally serviced her. The little woman ten years her senior would occasionally catch her gazing at her and Allen during break times. Brandy would then scowl and silently use small movements to mime the action of cracking a whip. Maribel would then blanch, blush quite red and lower her gaze. Brandy would snicker to herself, loud enough for the even more embarrassed Maribel to hear.

At least twice a night, Maribel awoke from vividly sexual dreams depicting herself as the restrained sex slave between Brandy's legs. This usually made her stomach crawl; she was by no means gay and had no lesbian experience or desire whatsoever. She wouldn't even think about classifying herself as "bi-curious" because, for her, there was nothing to be curious about. Still, the dreams lingered and she wondered why.

She decided to study up on the to-her unknown sexual realm. Maribel entered "sex slaves" into her favorite Internet search engine to see what it would say. Thinking it would be a short fifteen-minute search, Maribel was absolutely floored to see how much information there was to be found! Her planned fifteen minutes turned into five hours.

Some websites helped her understand that she was not a deviant or pervert in the making. Literally thousands of people had similar thoughts and feelings they discussed openly on hundreds of dedicated websites. Though reading those postings and discussions, Maribel came to understand she was a "curious newbie submissive" who had deeply buried feelings awakened by an unexpected incident.

One posting spoke of the author's awakening to sexual submission. The early thirtysomething woman spoke of a time when she was living on a farm in southern Indiana. She was the only girl within a three-mile bike ride and her only companionship was her brother's five friends. Their mother ordered him to take her along with the guys as they went on hikes, bike rides, went swimming in a nearby creek or whatever. The boys took a dim view of this and one time tied her to a tree a few dozen yards from their house. She spoke in her posting about the sexual thrill she felt at being manhandled and overpowered, as well as seeing the bulges in the fronts of their jeans. One of them got the bright idea to see "if girls really are different down there" and they explored under her clothes with their hands. Her brother wouldn't let his friends take down her jeans, but her shirt and bra were quickly pushed out of the way "and no mystery remained for them." The author continued, "hands explored everywhere I had places to explore, and I struggled, panted, screeched and loved every minute of it!" The anonymous poster said one of her brother's friends eventually became "my husband and Master because of that day. To surrender to his will is a joy this woman will always crave." Then she went on to describe a startlingly familiar scene—her husband-slash-Master would order her to slowly and lovingly suck his cock while he reads or watches TV. "I would lavish loving attention on his manpole like a living Popsicle while he reads his book, occasionally stroking my hair as if I am his most beloved pet," she wrote. "My knees would ache from kneeling so long, but my Master knows how to reward me for my servitude and patience. When he is done, I know I am loved, cherished and wholly owned by the most wonderful Master a submissive woman could ever have. All my small aches feel far away and insignificant in the glow of his love." Maribel wondered if that female poster was just a really good writer, or if she was for real.

The only she knew to discover this was to approach Brandy.

Doing so, however, was dangerous. It could threaten her job or her relationship with her boyfriend. It could accidentally become public knowledge and get her ostracized. Her parents were devoutly religious; stepping into such a dark and misunderstood fetish might touch off a heart attack in both of them! She could just see her father going into a rant about how "the dark realm of debauchery has claimed my only daughter and made her a disciple to the wages of sexual sin" or something like that.

Maribel stewed for another week, surfing the Internet for every scrap of new knowledge she could find. She found a website that offered BDSM equipment for sale; a copy of the blacksnake whip Brandy had was listed at over one hundred dollars! This much financial dedication told her Brandy was into the lifestyle deeply enough to help guide her through her confusion—if she chose to do so.

She had to ask. All she could do was say no.

Bolting down her courage, Maribel drove to Brandy's house. She dragged herself nervously to the door and rang the bell. Her hands, feet and wobbling knees would not be still as she waited for a reply.

Looking annoyed at being interrupted, Brandy opened the door. Maribel took it as a good sign that her boss was dressed in a housecoat with the white high heels she remembered from her last visit here. "What?" Brandy asked bluntly.

"I would like to speak with you."

"Then speak," ordered Brandy, leaning a shoulder on the doorframe and folding her arms. "Make it quick though."

"I can come back another time if you're busy putting your submissive through his paces," Maribel offered.

Something about the younger woman's demeanor and her use of the word submissive made Brandy bite off a retort before it reached her voice. "He can wait," she said, her tone and expression neutral.

"Waiting can heighten his sense of helplessness and thus further your control of what he gets from your arrangement," said Maribel with what she hoped was a knowing nod. "Not knowing who rang the doorbell in the middle of whatever you were doing can give him cause for concern as well. Is that person here at your request? Is that person going to participate? Will that person participate as a Dom or a sub? He has no answers, and his imagination will be running rampant as he awaits your return."

Brandy didn't reply for many seconds, studying the nervous nineteen-year-old throughout. It sounds like she knows more than the typical vanilla person, she thought. "All that is true," she allowed, conceding nothing.

Maribel stepped fractionally closer, self-consciously lowering her voice. "Something about our incident a couple of weeks ago unsettled me in ways I have not been able to comprehend or put out of my mind. I don't understand the drives of the BDSM world—" Brandy's eyebrows involuntarily quirked at her competent use of an insider's phrase "—and I don't know where else to turn."

Thinking in silence, Brandy wondered if this was a ruse and a way of conning her into revealing her submissive's identity. "Do you think you're dominant or submissive?"

"Everything I've read on the Internet points to me being a `curious submissive.'" She cleared her throat. "Much beyond that, I don't know."

"But you want to know. You seem to be wordlessly suggesting that you become my trainee in exchange for guidance and enlightenment."

"Perhaps I am." Uncomfortable pause. "Mistress," she finished, her voice half-strangled by nervousness and unknown emotions without names.

Brandy studied her through stern and suspicious eyes. Several seconds passed as Maribel stewed silently, determined not to flee. Then Brandy pulled out of her comfortable slouch and gestured her inside. Maribel stepped into the garage and the door was closed. "Kneel."

A flicker of surprise crossed the younger woman's face, but she knelt without question, comment or protest. It was also done quickly enough not to warrant a reprimand for dawdling or displaying headstrong resistance. Brandy was impressed but his it completely. "Put your knees tight together, rest your butt on your heels and place your hands flat atop your thighs." Maribel complied. "This is what I call the standard position and you will assume it quickly when ordered to do so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," replied Maribel with a nervous hitch, looking up at the shorter woman somehow looming tall and imposing over her.

"I have not yet decided to be your Mistress!" Brandy said sharply. "Addressing me with that title is something you earn! You will address me as `ma'am.'"

"I understand, ma'am."

"I can be stern and unforgiving," Brandy went on. "Break my rules severely enough and the whip you saw a couple of weeks ago will taste your flesh! If you cannot handle the thought of that, you may leave now."

Maribel recalled the cruelly sensuous look of the blacksnake slicing through the air and breaking a couple of chunks of paneling from the central pillar in the basement. She did not know about the rubber whip Brandy used to administer lashes when punishment was earned, so the thought of getting whipped with the blacksnake made her skin crawl—but she couldn't turn back now. "I wish to stay, ma'am."

"You may come to regret that wish," warned Brandy, her tone ominous. She watched as Maribel tried not to tremble in the face of the unknown. "Stand, trainee."

She stood and folded her hands in front of herself. "Come inside." Maribel followed her into the kitchen from the directly connecting inner garage door. Brandy led her through the kitchen and stopped just before the door leading to the basement. "Assume the standard position and wait for me."

"Yes, ma'am," she answered as she knelt. She watched as Brandy went downstairs.

Allen watched as Mistress Brandy came back downstairs, shedding her housecoat as she went. "We have a visitor," she informed him, loud enough for the trainee to hear. "Maribel thinks she can be as good a submissive as you. But I'm not sure she can. She's too young."

Listening, Maribel blushed and felt her hopes sink. Since she hadn't been dismissed or addressed, she stayed quiet and waited from Brandy's return. She wondered why her slave—whatever his name was—offered no verbal reply.

Brandy, now naked again save for her white cotton bikini panties and the high heels, rooted around for something in their equipment locker. She set them on the table next to the gyno bench, grabbed the blacksnake and went upstairs. Maribel heard her coming and adjusted her kneeling position. Then she felt the blood drain from her face when Brandy reappeared, dressed only in a snug pair of underwear and toting that murderous looking whip.

She stepped close and loomed over the kneeling woman as menacingly as a four-foot-eleven woman could muster. She held the blacksnake really close to her face, letting her get a really good look. Maribel felt her throat tighten as she studied the black and uneven surface, hoping it would never be used on her yet wondering how bad it would hurt. Then Brandy gently stroked her cheeks with the coiled leather; the rough surface was both strangely sensuous and quite unnerving at the same time. She felt herself shiver as her cheeks blushed again.

Brandy watched the blush expand and favored her trainee with a smirking smile. "The blacksnake intrigues you like a candle intrigues a moth," she said in a low and mesmerizing tone, deliberately calculated to make Maribel blush even harder. "Perhaps you need a taste?"

Maribel felt her throat tighten up even more as she dug through her memories of what she'd read on the Internet. "If it is your will, ma'am."

Again the involuntary eyebrow quirk. She's nervous as hell but she's leaving the control up to me, Brandy thought, her estimation going up a notch. "Put your hands flat right here," she ordered, tapping the floor with her toe two feet in front of her knees, "then bend forward and place your forehead on your hands." Maribel complied, her young, tight and shapely ass elevated and exposed. "This is called the presentation position. You may presume you have displeased me if I order you to assume it." She then flexed her fingers, letting the business end of the blacksnake drop onto the floor.

Maribel saw the lash land beside her. Thinking it a test of her determination, courage, nerve or something else, she waited and felt quite exposed with her fanny upturned and presented. Her heart was hammering with great speed and power. She was also surprised to feel her pussy had a decidedly aggressive tingle within it.

Brandy slid the blacksnake through her hand and took a grip at the one-third point. She parked her feet next to her trainee's elbows, bent forward and applied a firm stroke to that sweet, upturned ass. The denim of her jeans and her panties took the brunt, but there was more than enough force to demonstrate Brandy meant business. She silently counted to five and applied another. Count to five and another. Count to five and another. Count to five and another. Count to five and another. "Do you regret your wish now, trainee?"

"No, ma'am." The sting was there but Maribel knew this whole thing was a test of her mettle.

"Would you regret your wish to stay if I ordered you to suck my slave's cock?"

"No, ma'am."

"Would you regret that wish if I ordered you to lick my pussy?"

She felt herself blush again. "No, ma'am."

"Good! Stand and come downstairs, trainee."

Maribel followed her into the basement and saw why the submissive hadn't replied to his Mistress earlier—he was gagged, as well as naked and restrained kneeling to the central pillar. His head was encased in a black leather hood with a pair of so-called "girlwatcher sunglasses" in front of his eyes. The one-way mirrored lenses—once popular with the Joe Cool -types in the 1970s—would let him see uninhibited, yet would not let her see what his eyes looked like.

"Strip to your panties, trainee."

"Yes, ma'am." She started to remove her clothes as Brandy and her submissive man watched. Maribel presumed the sub liked what he was seeing as his surprisingly thick pecker started to swell in length and width. She couldn't help but wonder what that rascal would feel like in her kitty.

The stripping complete, Mistress Brandy inspected her trainee while Allen feasted his eye from behind his mirrored disco-era shades. Perky and firm B-cup breasts and their nipples were examined, her tight and smooth tummy was deemed quite nice, and her incredible ass was given the thumbs-up. Brandy then pulled the front of Maribel's pale yellow panties away and inspected the trimming of her thicket. "My pet will trim you up later," she mentioned offhandedly as the panties were put back into place. Allen heard and made no comment since he was gagged, but his erection's swelling increased two-fold in as many seconds.

"I'm going to start your first lesson of enlightenment by testing your oral skills. First you'll do my pet while I'm busy with my Pilates exercises. Then you'll do me."

"As you wish, ma'am."

"Kneel."

Maribel knelt. Brandy hadn't specified the standard position but assumed it anyway, secretly impressing her Mistress. No protest or resistance was offered as Brandy tied her arms behind her back in a box tie. "Have you ever been bound before, trainee?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then two bits of your virginity will now bite the dust," stated Brandy as she reached for a strange device. It looked like a metal loop with four curved prongs spaced evenly around it, with two leather straps attached. "Open your mouth."

Maribel complied and the hoop was inserted. She realized the hoop would not allow her to close her mouth while still allowing oral insertion. The prongs resting on her cheeks and chin would keep the spider gag from twisting away from its vertical orientation. Brandy buckled it in place, then buckled a studded black leather collar around her neck.

Allen watched, his he-rod huge standing tall. Maribel was a remarkably beautiful young woman with just enough Hispanic blood in her lineage to make her flawless flesh look suntanned year round. Her hair was brunette, her eyes as deep, dark and mysterious as interstellar space, and her pelvis was as flat as the plains of western Texas. Her legs were supple, firm and lean with just the right amount of taper. The older forty- and fiftysomething men at work universally wished they were twenty years younger so they could tap that. And here she was, preparing to accept his lucky stiff between her nice and pouty lips and into the moist embrace of her mouth.

Maribel saw his manpole was already at full strength in anticipation of having her mouth around it. She fretted about it; she'd given oral to a previous boyfriend, but Brandy's slave was a lot bigger. She felt saliva forming from the insertion of the spider gag and exposure to the air; she figured she'd be drooling on his sex sword and onto the floor in a minute or two.

Meanwhile, Brandy was tying a length of rope to the collar. When she was done, she unbuckled Allen's ankle restraints and ordered him to stand. Maribel watched as he positioned his legs and slid his body up the pillar as if having done it before. Brandy then buckled a homemade spreader bar between his ankles, holding them just past shoulder-width apart. The spreader was then tied to the pillar.

"Scoot forward and put your knees next to the spreader bar," ordered Brandy.

Her heart hammering with a curious combination of anticipation and nerves, Maribel knee-walked forward. She watched and drooled as Brandy ran a rope around her knees and tied the ends to the spreader bar. The man's magnificent member was right next to her cheek as another runnel of drool sagged from her blocked-open mouth. Meanwhile, Brandy ran a rope from her box-tied arms to her ankles and tied off the ends; this would keep her kneeling. Then came the order all three had been anticipating, each in their own way—

"Get him inserted."

Maribel leaned back a bit and maneuvered her head as needed to align his manliness with the spider gag. She slowly leaned forward and felt the blunt prow of his Tower of Masculine Power pass over her tongue and begin to press against the rear roof of her mouth. Brandy then led the collar rope between Allen's legs and tied it to the pillar behind him. There was very little slack; Maribel barely had enough room to swallow. She figured about five of his seven inches was cradled between her cheeks and teeth. Her tongue played over it involuntarily, trying to push the intruder out by instinct.

Allen felt her tongue wrestling with his malepole for space. Her deep brown eyes looked up at him, wide, nervous and borderline pleading—but there was no relief he could give. His bindings were just as resolute and inescapable as hers.

Brandy looked over the fruits of her labors. "Man, isn't that a sight for a Mistress' eyes!" she exclaimed with satisfaction. "Not a bad job if I do say so myself." Neither replied since they were gagged, each in their own way.

Brandy hovered out of Maribel's range of eyesight, watching as her trainee tried to reconcile her submissive posture and helplessness within her mind. She had some concern that Allen might climax without intending to; today was Friday and his weekly reward was slated for later that evening. But mostly she concentrated on her young trainee. Allen would conduct himself as expected, but Maribel was entering a strange new world—and that world had to be entered with care and consideration for newly experienced emotions and sensations.