Forced into Submission (3 page)

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Authors: Lorna Snowdon

BOOK: Forced into Submission
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“Frank?” she said when he came to the phone. “It’s Margret and I have a little problem that I need you to…”

She stopped talking and listened. Her face became a mask of fear and her glance flitted at me like she was looking at the angel of death. She closed the phone and all of the fire was gone.

“He said…he said that…” she hiccupped and stopped.

“I know what he said, Margret,” I said reassuringly, “but as long as you are a well behaved slave nothing like that will happen.”

“Slave?” she quavered.

“Take off your clothes, Margret.”

She stiffened and glared at me. I could see that she had no intention of going down easily even after her last conversation with Frank. She didn’t disappoint me.

“You must be mad to expect that I’m going to…”

She stopped as I casually plucked her cell phone from her hand and pushed redial. I smiled and put the phone to my ear.

“Hello, Frank?” I said. “I have a little problem here and I need…”

She fell at my feet and clutched my calves, “Wait, Raven, please.”

“Frank?” I said. “Hold on a minute, can you?”

“Raven, please don’t…”

“Clothes, Margret,” I said.

She leaned back and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Frank?” I laughed. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll ring again if things don’t work out.”

***

Three months later not a trace of resistance was left in her. I kept her on the floor next to me at night so I had access to her well trained tongue. During the day, when I had to be out of the house, I kept her in a cage. I was very proud of how well behaved she was. I had done a very nice job with this one. She was going to be a marvelous pet for her new owner who had paid me one hundred thousand dollars for three months work doing something that still got me wet thinking about it even after all the captures I had made. I prodded Margret’s pussy with my quirt and watched her squirm.

“Your new owner is coming to pick you up today,” I said mildly.

She shivered a little but true to her training didn’t respond. I wiggled the quirt on her clit and watched her body react like a jolt of electricity was passing through it. I hadn’t allowed her a single orgasm since I had captured her and it was apparent that she was desperate.

“Unfortunately for you I’ve heard that she is very cruel and almost never allows her slaves any pleasure,” I said laughingly.

I could see a tear well up in her left eye. It spilled out of her bottom lid and splashed on the floor in front of her but she still didn’t move.

“Would you like one last chance to go, Margret?” I asked softly.

“Yes, please, Miss Raven,” she whispered.

“You have five minutes to hump the quirt,” I said patting her on the head. “You may start now.”

She squeezed her legs together and began bucking her hips to push her clitoris into the end of the quirt. I kept some pressure on it for her but I didn’t make it easy. Even so she managed to make it over the top in less than five minutes. She started wailing before it hit and when her climax came she wasn’t able to remain on all fours. Her body went into spasms and she collapsed screaming out her pleasure. It was a breach of training but I let it pass. In fact I let her lie there almost unconscious until the doorbell rang.

“Get back up, girl,” I said sternly as I stood up and crossed to the door.

I opened the door to her new owner. I had never met the woman before so I was unprepared for my own response. Her demeanor was so heartless that my first reaction was a small curl of fear that hammered at my chest and left me breathless for a moment. I got myself under control.

“Come in, Mrs. Southland,” I said politely.

She swept past me like she was queen and I was just a servant. My fear had gone and left me with a bad taste in my mouth and this action sparked a feeling of anger. I gritted my teeth and kept my mouth shut. I was having second thoughts about letting someone like this have Margret. She had been my best challenge so far and I…

“Is this her?” Mrs. Southland demanded imperiously.

I was beginning to really dislike this savage haughty bitch. I looked at Margret and felt a pang. I was going to miss her. Then a germ of an idea flitted through my mind and like a flower it opened and put a smile on my face. I put it on hold and answered her.

“Yes, Mrs. Southland,” I said.

“We’ll be going,” she said, snapping a leash on Margret and dragging her toward the door, ignoring me completely.

I waited until the sulfur left the air before I crossed the room and picked up the phone.

“Hi, Harriet,” I said when my friend answered, “it’s me. What’s the company that Mrs. Southland is president of?”

I listened and I really liked Harriet’s answer because I was certain that a know-it-all bitch like Mrs. Southland wouldn’t be able to keep from taking advantage of a loose structure like I knew that company had. A thrill shot through me and I smiled to myself.

“Harriet,” I said, “I going to need you to place me there as an office temp as soon as you can.”

It was going to be a little trickier since she had seen my face but I had no doubt that in a few weeks Miss Haughtiness would be here at my feet. Maybe I could even let Margret help me. God I loved my work!

 

#

 

 

My Best Friend’s Daughter – Chapter 1

 

I was surprised when the doorbell rang. I had been living alone since my husband died six years before and rarely got visitors. In fact, I had been holed up alone in my house for the past three weeks. My last trip out had been to the funeral of my best friend who had died of cancer and she had left a hole in my life. When I opened the door my friend’s twenty-three year old daughter was standing there with a canary-cat like smile on her face. I never liked the little bitch and had barely spoken to her at the funeral. I didn’t have a clue why see might be here but my instinct told me it wasn’t going to be good.

“Hello, Mrs. Johnson,” she said in a softly smirking tone, “or perhaps I should call you Kimmy now?”

“Uh…, hi, Sara,” I stuttered, feeling a sharp twinge between my legs at her use of my pet name, “I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Oh I’m sure you are, Kimmy, I’m sure you are.”

“Sara,” I said sharply, “what’s this all about?”

“I have something to show you, Kimmy,” she said, holding up what looked like a homemade DVD. “I think you are going to be very interested.”

A faint shadow of fear curled into my mind. Her mother and I had shared some special moments but they had been private. Surely her daughter didn’t know. I stepped out of the way and waved her inside, then followed her to the living room where she put the DVD in the player and sat down on the couch.

The scene that came up on the screen caused an instant burning pain in my stomach. It was a very clear shot of me, naked, collared and on my knees eating her mother’s pussy. She was holding a leash to keep my face buried in her snatch and spurring me on with a riding crop. I stepped to the player and ejected the DVD.

“You can have that one,” Sara said smugly, “I have more copies.”

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“You.”

I looked at her blankly, while the burn in my stomach started a war with the tingling between my legs.

“Goddamit,”
I thought,
“her fucking mother promised me that she had destroyed all of the videos. Shit!”

“Cat got your tongue?” she asked sweetly.

“Sara, I can explain…” I said weakly.

“I think the video speaks for itself, don’t you, Kimmy?”

“Sara, it’s not what you think…” I started.

“Kimmy, it’s clear that you were my mother’s slave and now you’re mine. I inherited you, just like her house, her car, her portfolio…”

“You’ve got it wrong, Sara,” I explained, “it was a game we played. It was just an exciting game that we both enjoyed.”

“Did you think that once she died you wouldn’t be a slave anymore?” she chided and slapped down what looked like a copy of the stupid contract I had signed.

“Sara, I wasn’t your mother’s slave. It was a game we played,” I pleaded.

“Kimmy, take off your clothes,” she said.

“Sara, this has gone far enough,” I blustered, “I want you to leave right now.”

“You will address me as Miss Simmons from now on,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard me, “and I told you to strip!”

“Sara!”

She jumped up from the couch and slapped me hard across the face. I was furious with rage but my body was betraying me. It liked the thrill of what was happening.

“Kimmy,” she said, “I have copies of this DVD and others of you performing lots of deliciously degrading acts that I won’t hesitate to use. I also put them on a secure website that I would love to share if you piss me off. I don’t give a shit if it was real or a game with my mother because it’s real now. You belong to me, bitch. Now get your fucking clothes off!”

I was beaten and I knew it. What could I do? She had enough to blackmail me for life and I knew she would use it. My fingers moved to my blouse and undid the first button..

“Later we are going to have one of those punishment sessions you seem so fond of,” she laughed.

“Please, Miss Simmons, please, it was just a game. Please don’t make me do this,” I begged.

“Shut up you stupid bitch,” she screamed. “My first rule is that you never, and I mean never, speak without being spoken to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Simmons.”

“Kimmy,” she purred, “I’ve watched all of the videos my mom made and I know you liked being her slave. I can also see that being forced to strip for me is turning you on so, save the bullshit and get undressed.”

I hated her. She was right and I hated her. My mind was already racing forward to the degrading acts she was going to make me perform and my pussy was on fire. The ache was physical. I was so wet I could already feel it dripping down my leg.

“I never understood what my mother saw in you,” she mused, “I always thought you were a stuck up bitch and I hated the way you treated me. Now that little stuck up bitch is my little bitch and I’m going to make you pay for the way you’ve treated me all these years.”

I continued removing my clothes but when I got down to my panties and bra I stopped. I was embarrassed to be undressing in front of a girl twenty years my junior and I was embarrassed about the fountain that my cunt had become.

“Take off your bra and show me your tits, Kimmy,” she demanded.

I flushed with shame but the bitch owned me. My mind wanted a way out but I was trapped in a corner of my own making. I reached behind me, undid my bra and let it slide off my shoulders to the floor revealing my softly rounded but still perky breasts. I wanted to cover myself but I knew she would be angry so I stood with my head down and my hands by my sides.

“Put your hands behind your head and get your head up, Kimmy,” she commanded.

I put my hands behind my neck causing my breasts to rise and stand out begging for attention. They got it. She softly caressed them, tweaking my nipples to points that were so hard they would have cut a diamond. I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips.

“That’s my little slut,” she crowed, “I knew you liked to be treated like this. Now let’s get rid of those panties, shall we?”

I pulled down my panties, kicked them away and put my hands back behind my head. I was already learning to anticipate her desires and I hated myself for it. I waited in shame.

“Spread your legs,” she said, “I want that filthy pussy open for me.”

I spread my legs and felt the wetness running down them. She walked around me, inspecting me like I was a piece of meat she was considering and then started moving her hands over my ass. I couldn’t help but stick it out for more attention. She stood behind me and placed her hands on my thighs and slowly moved them up into my crotch. When her fingers found my slit the flush of humiliation and desire caused me to tremble violently.

“Oh my god,”
I pleaded silently,
“please, please touch me, rub me, oh god.”

I was quaking with need. I hated her. I hated what she was doing. I hated myself for wanting her but I didn’t want her to stop. She moved her finger lightly on my bud and I felt the beginning of what promised to be the most intense orgasm I had ever had. If being her slave brought me to this it might be worth it. Then she stopped. I quivered with frustration.

“No, no, no,”
my mind screamed,
“don’t stop now!”

“Oh, Kimmy,” she laughed, “you are going to be so miserable being my slave because I am very rarely going to let you have the release you so clearly crave. I plan to keep you very frustrated for the rest of your life.”

I heard the words but my brain couldn’t comprehend them. Surely she wouldn’t, would she? I shuddered at the thought but it called to some basic need inside of me.

“I like that position, Kimmy,” she said. “It shows you off nicely. Remember it because I will expect you to assume it anytime I give you the command ‘display’, do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Simmons.”

“Good. Now I have a few rules to go over that will explain your new position in life,” she said, “but first I want you to go out to my car and fetch my things and the bag of ‘toys’ I found at my mother’s.”

“But…” I started.

“Shut the fuck up!” she shouted. “I told you never to speak without being asked a direct question. I plan to whip you for that little outburst. I don’t care that you are naked and that the neighbors might see, go out and get my bags now!”

I started for the door.

“By the way, Kimmy,” she said, “I expect you to crawl like the animal you are now anytime your task doesn’t require you to stand.”

I got down on my hands and knees and crawled toward the front door.

 

 

My Best Friend’s Daughter-Chapter 2

 

It was dark outside but both of my neighbors had a clear view of my driveway and the yard lights were on. Sara had parked her car at the end of the drive about 200 feet from my door. I crawled as fast as I could, praying that the old biddy whose kitchen window looked out on my driveway didn’t see me. Mrs. Fitch hated me and would relish seeing me in my present degrading position. As I reached the car I could see her peering out of the window. I ducked behind it and peeked over the trunk. She was still looking out, shading her eyes trying to see better. I crouched down and shivered in the cold air. I was miserable. My hands and knees hurt from the pebbles in the driveway. My hair was hanging in my face and I could feel my mascara running from my earlier tears. When I looked again she was still there. Damn!

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