Reluctant submission – The graduation


In the second book in this series set in the beautiful harbor city of Sydney, Meredith continues her erotic education under the firm hand of Damien. Continuing to fight him in a battle she knows is fruitless, he draws her, metaphorically kicking and screaming, under his spell. Despite her best efforts she realizes she is losing the war - or is she? Although she could never admit it, she wants what he is giving her - needs what he is giving her. What more could he possibly do to her and how could she goad him to do it? She has never before felt so alive, never before felt like such a purely sexual being. Is surrender on the cards? If so, what will it look like? Will she be able to do it on her own terms and with dignity. Deep down inside her she knows it will be neither on her terms nor will it be dignified. It will be exactly as Damien wants it and exactly the way Meredith needs it to be as she sinks to a very base level. It will be hot and dirty as she eventually begs him to take her as his slave. 

Chapter 1

Glancing nervously at her watch for what seemed like the twentieth time Meredith Smythe, the typically controlled, cold, and unaffected CEO of Danforth Enterprises trembled as she watched the hand marking the seconds as they slowly ticked by. She was standing outside an apartment building in Darling Island, Sydney like a nervous schoolgirl fighting an increasing urge to use the bathroom.
The power outfit she wore—tailored skirt and blouse, sheer stockings and black pumps—did little to disguise her self-assured beauty. When she dressed, pulling her hair severely back from her face, she intended to look every bit the hard-nosed executive that she was—at work anyway. She wanted to send her nemesis, Damien Franks, a very clear message. Would she succeed? Her choice of stockings instead of pantyhose worried her. Was it because she was secretly hoping he would take her and that the stockings would ease his way?

Although not necessarily visible to the casual observer, the look she had achieved was at odds with how she felt as she shifted back and forth from one foot to the other, waiting for the appointed hour to arrive. Struggling to imagine what would transpire during the evening, she was both scared and aroused at the same time. As much as she was determined to hate the man, her relationship with him was far more complex than that one simple emotion. Deep down inside she knew her evening would be both erotic and stimulating and would take her places she had never been before.
Damien had summoned her to his home and he knew she would be there, regardless of whether she wanted to or not. Was it even her decision? Despite him having no tangible hold over her and in spite of her reservations, Meredith was unable to resist him. In the brief period since their paths first crossed, the mysterious Mr. Franks had introduced her to activities that had been beyond her comprehension.Despite believing they were kinky and perverted, they held an irresistible attraction that she was finding impossible to ignore. Pain and pleasure had become impossible to separate. Suddenly, humiliation excited her. Agony had become ecstasy.Initially, she was sure that Damien was violent and abusive, but now she was unsure and confused. It was not violence and abuse; it was power and control, not unlike the management techniques she used in her capacity as a successful CEO. She could see the irony in this, however. She did not use those tools in a sexual or erotic sense. Damien, despite using them in the most obscenely erotic way she had ever experienced, had hardly touched her in any traditionally sexual way.

He had warned her early in their interactions, after she had goaded him particularly savagely, that he would not engage in sex with her until she begged. Meredith thought the idea of sex with him was preposterous. She had made it quite clear that she was not going to beg him for anything, especially sex. So began a kind of erotic but distant mating ritual as he slowly drew her into his web. Meredith was beginning to worry that she was caught in a trap, being wrapped inexorably tighter and unable to prevent him from taking her to a place she feared, but yearned for in equal proportions. He was the spider and she was his prey. No longer confident she could extricate herself from his influence it scared her at a much deeper level to wonder if that was even what she wanted.

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They first came together when Meredith’s PA, Penelope Davis, contracted Damien to renovate the executive bathroom at the Danforth head office. While Meredith herself had ordered the renovation, it was Penelope who had sourced the renovator and awarded the contract. Meredith intended to have it done to her timetable and on her terms, expecting Damien to work without question or complaint around her outrageous requirements. She was not wont to react favorably to anyone who failed to fall into line with her demands and expectations, and so the die had been cast for a clash of epic proportions although neither of them knew that in the beginning.
Their first physical interaction had been as shocking for her as it was unexpected. Being extremely hot headed and volatile, Meredith had made the mistake of attempting to hit Damien in a fit of anger. Her initial assault was verbal, but when she didn’t get the reaction she was after, she attacked him physically. Despite her best efforts, he had easily fended her off, taking full control as he subdued her. Not exactly the reaction she was after. From that point on, their interactions had been no less explosive, eventually resulting in Meredith receiving her first spanking at the hands of this impertinent tradesman, as she thought of him.
Despite the disgust and humiliation she felt at their first encounter, she was continually drawn back into his sphere of influence time and time again as he gradually ingratiated himself into her world. He had insinuated himself into her psyche and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and how she would react before she knew herself. Nobody had ever had this effect on her before and she found it as intriguing as she did disturbing. In his words, she was like a moth to a flame.
She had refused to accept the boundaries Damien had put in place in his work site, constantly flouting his rules and arguing with him. Despite being warned, she pushed him too far and her first spanking was a mild, albeit very humiliating, punishment. Since then she had allowed herself to be subjected to a further spanking that was much more erotic. He had also exposed her to a number of other highly charged activities that had left her shocked but intrigued. Finally, Mr. Franks had introduced her to ‘The Society’ – a secret group of dominants, submissives, and slaves that met in a secret location in the middle of Sydney. Their well- appointed club housed a number of different theme oriented rooms where dominants and submissives, sadists and masochists, and all sorts of fetishists played out their fantasies.
Many of the members held quite prominent positions in Sydney social and professional circles and The Society allowed them to live out their fantasies safely and privately with little fear that prying eyes would expose them.
It was not uncommon for captains of industry, judges, doctors, and lawyers, both male and female, to be led around by a collar and leash while dressed in leather or latex. This before being taken aside to be spanked, paddled or caned in the privacy of the aptly named ‘play’ rooms. Those wielding the canes and paddles might be of a similar ilk or they may be much lower level functionaries in their normal lives, but The Society gave them the chance to live the dream that would never present itself under normal circumstances.
At first, neither Meredith nor Damien knew that Penelope was also a member of The Society. She was submissive with a strong masochistic streak and like most members of the exclusive club, she chose to keep her identity restricted by always wearing a mask or a hood. Penelope had seen Damien, who never tried to hide his identity and was proud of who he was as a dominant, in action at the club. Like most submissive members, both male and female, she found him irresistibly alluring and relished his presence in her corporate workplace. Her enjoyment was further enhanced given that she was his primary point of contact for the project and hence interacted with him every day. Damien suspected there was more to her than met the eye, and indeed he soon confirmed his suspicions. Meredith, meanwhile, remained totally ignorant.

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Determined to fight his invisible hold over her, Meredith had been intending to ignore his summons this evening. She needed to prove to him that she was beholden to no one, not the least a mere man, and ‘the hired help’ to boot. Unfortunately for her, she had engaged in an ill-fated masturbation session in order to relieve her growing sexual tension, expecting this would give her the mental strength to refuse his call.
Despite her efforts, the resultant orgasm had the opposite effect. Instead of the relief and the inner strength she expected would follow, her fantasies overtook her confused and addled mind. This resulted in her being even more helpless to refuse his order, hence the current situation in which she found herself squeezing her legs together as she waited impatiently for 7:00 to arrive. She had tried to take control already, pressing the button five minutes early but it was all for naught. She had met her match and this was a bitter lesson - his world did not revolve around her.
The minute hand eventually reached the twelve, so she pushed the button. The door clicked open and she entered the lobby, making her way to his front door. As she approached, it swung open and there he was. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt insignificant gazing up at him.
He was dressed in black trousers, and a white t-shirt with a black vest - the vest casually undone. A mask, like one might see at a masked ball, or at The Society, covered his eyes. Would she recognize him if she didn’t know it was him and had not heard him speak?
Smiling, he beckoned her inside and the door clicked shut behind her. "Welcome Meredith. I am glad you could make it."
"I don’t recall you giving me a choice, Mr. Franks," she answered curtly.
"You always have a choice," he responded pleasantly. "But after what you got up to this afternoon, I was wondering…"
She spat, "Whatever do you mean – what I got up to?"
Damien came close, into her personal space, and made a deal out of sniffing the air around her before looking her in the eye with a wry smile. "Miss Smythe, it is not a good idea to lie to me. There are certain things I can sense. The scent of a woman is but one of them. You have been engaging in, shall we say, pleasures of the flesh."
Meredith’s mind was reeling. He can tell? He is lying. Oh, shit! Does that leave a particular scent? Even after a shower? How the fuck…?
Having successfully unbalanced her he motioned for her to enter the dining room where she was relieved to see two place settings made up with cutlery and wine glasses. "Please be seated," he said from behind her. Her senses were alert as she took her seat, not trusting him in the least but at the same time waiting for him to do the unexpected.
She could sense his proximity, almost smelling him as he positioned himself closely behind her. His fingers touched each side of her head as she settled into the seat -a light touch on her temples. She gasped in surprise before relaxing into the pleasant sensation.
She closed her eyes as his fingers lightly circled her temples before slowly trailing down each side of her face and onto her neck. He massaged her neck gently, pleasantly, and she felt his breath on her ear. "Relax Meredith. What’s going to happen is going to happen. You know you want it. You could say no, but you won’t." Her only reply was an audible sigh, a wave of excitement passing through her as she surrendered to the inevitable. His fingers moved to her shoulders before slowly tracing a line down her arms. He reached her wrists and his hands closed around them in a firm grip as she steeled herself for his next move.
Slowly he pulled her arms behind the back of the chair; she drew a deep breath but kept her eyes closed. The positioning of her arms forced her breasts out and her nipples instantly hardened. There was no point in fighting him; she wasn’t sure she wanted to anyway. What she wanted was still unclear but it wasn’t long before her mind was taking her back to her most recent fantasy. Wondering if the large cock she had imagined would be there in reality when he finally exposed himself, as she knew he would.
"Now Meredith, you want this," he whispered hypnotically. "You need this."
Another pulse of pleasure passed through her as she sat there, scared to move. Eventually she shook her head slowly, her eyes still closed. She felt him pull her arms back a little more harshly. "Yes, Meredith. You do." A sixth sense warned her of the steel cuffs just before the first one touched her skin. The cold, hard steel encircled the top half of her wrist before the click… click… click of the other half assaulted her ears as it closed firmly against her. Taking a breath and instinctively squeezing her legs together, she tensed before making a feeble effort to escape, knowing it would be a fruitless gesture. She was going nowhere until he decided otherwise and the strength of his grip reinforced that reality to her. His hot breath tickled her ear and he enjoyed watching her tremble, taking his time slowly trapping her remaining wrist. She was as helpless as she’d ever been - her fate sealed…finally.
Instinctively she struggled again, knowing it was futile, but she had to do it regardless. The struggle only served to remind her of how little movement the unforgiving cuffs allowed. Her breath caught as his hands enveloped her breasts, holding them and squeezing them gently over her clothes. She made a show of wriggling her torso in a forlorn effort to free herself. Still, her eyes remained closed as she whispered, "No."
He continued to fondle her breasts from outside her clothes, eventually drawing his fingers back to tease her nipples, rolling them gently in his fingers. With another sharp intake of breath, her head lolled back. Her throat was dry as she said hoarsely, "Is this the way you treat all of your dinner guests, Mr. Franks?"
His fingers tightened on her nipples as he replied, "Only the ones I intend to use for special training."
Hearing those words generated another little rush of excitement and she was grateful she was still covered up, although she knew her arousal was no secret to him. Did she have any secrets from him at all?
He released her breasts and she was about to open her eyes when something was pulled down over her head. Damien had produced a hood designed to cover the top half of the wearer’s head, totally removing all sight and restricting the wearer’s hearing. Made of soft, thin leather, it pulled in tightly around her head and laced up at the rear. As he pulled firmly on the laces, the leather hugged her like a second skin and she moaned softly with pleasure. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced as the hood become part of her.
As she was adjusting to the darkness, his arms encircled her and he began undoing the buttons of her blouse. One button at a time, he gradually exposed her bra, which he then lifted roughly, allowing her breasts to fall out from under its supporting wire. Once her breasts were exposed he left the bra sitting untidily over her chest as his hands returned to her nipples, gently playing with them, teasing them back to full firmness as another moan escaped her lips. Again, his hot breath was on her ear. "Now Miss Smythe, you rejected the color scheme in your bathroom."
"I didn’t like it," she whispered entirely unconvincingly.
During their most recent encounter, she had made a transparent effort to regain control of their relationship, ordering that the colors be re-done. Contractually and financially, she could get away with this, but their ‘relationship’ transcended the contract and the checkbook. This was about personal power and she was reluctantly coming to realize that although her tactics might have won her one small battle, she was rapidly losing the war.
"Yes, you had not sought my concurrence when you…"
Her words were cut short as he clamped his fingers down upon her nipples and pulled them out from her chest. "I will come back and deliver what you want, Miss Smythe, but I will extract a payment and that payment will not be monetary."
His thinly veiled threat resulted in yet another flood of fear and excitement as she squirmed in her chair. Her panties, wet with arousal, clung to her vulva as she imagined what the payment would involve. Deep down inside her she knew what she wanted, but he would see that as a reward and deny her. Eventually he would take her but she knew it would be on his terms and his terms alone. Despite that, she was still determined not to beg for it. She could not allow him to take her down to that level. She needed some semblance of control, but step by excruciating step he was taking it away from her and she remained helpless to resist.


Exerpt 1

Before long, her pelvis was similarly encased in unforgiving straps, ensnaring her in their grip. The locks clicked with a sinister sound as the crotch strap held her in its vise-like grip, pulling firmly against her mound.  Despite being relatively comfortable, she worried about what the hell he was up to. Finally, bands surrounded her thighs pulling her legs closer together before being connected by a length of chain. Standing her up, he made some further adjustments. Then with a self-satisfied sigh, he unclipped her wrists and lifted the blindfold.


"I think it is time for you to shower and go home, Miss Smythe."

For the first time she could see the results of his labor. She first looked down at herself and then she peered at her reflection in the mirror, confused. The locking bands that were compressing her were all made of what appeared to be stainless steel. There were no sharp points or edges. Rather, on the inside it was lined with black rubber-like material that wrapped the edge of the steel.

She looked over to see him smiling. "Try and touch yourself, Meredith." Again, her puzzlement was obvious. "Go on. See if you can pleasure yourself."

She tried to spread her legs but couldn’t, and when her fingers touched the hard shield covering her vulva, her dilemma was clear. Her fingers slid down between her thighs and felt an opening at her vagina, but a strong mesh prevented her fingers from getting inside.  Looking down again, then back in the mirror, her fingers probed wildly and she looked at him with fire in her eyes.

"No.  No.  No no no," she hissed. "Take this contraption off me right now. How dare you think you can lock this on me, let alone do so and then tell me to go home."

"You are more than welcome to spend the night here, Miss Smythe, but I assumed that you would really prefer not to be around me after I..."

"I don’t want to be around you and I certainly don’t want to spend the night here, but I also don’t want to spend time trapped in this… this… this…"

"Chastity belt, Miss Smythe.”

"This chastity belt. Take it off me right this instant."

"Oh, I will take it off you, Miss Smythe, however the timing of that will depend to a large extent on you. Making demands that you are not in a position to enforce will not help your situation. Next time you visit, I fully intend to remove it from you. I will then remove all of your pubic hair as well.  I like to have my submissives and slaves clean-shaven.  What happens after that will depend on you."

"Have you taken leave of your senses man," she spluttered. "I am not your submissive or your slave and I will not be leaving here whilst wearing this device. And let me tell you another thing-if you think you will be touching my pubic hair, you must be on drugs."

He looked at her somewhat disdainfully. "Quite."

Exerpt 2

"See, Miss Smythe… total control achieved with simple items that can be found in any kitchen. It’s exciting, isn’t it?"

She did not reply, but whimpered in answer as he quickly slipped two fingers deep inside her. "Oh. Oh. Oh fuck!"

"Uh uh-no no. None of that until I say you may. You will have your release when I say you will, not before," he said firmly withdrawing his fingers.

Photo of wraped girl on black background

She groaned and pouted before stamping her foot in annoyance. "Oh fuck. Don’t stop now. Please. Put them back. You always get me so close. Argh. Damn you!"

His fingers were back on her nipples, gently teasing them as he replied softly, "Yes, Miss Smythe. Damn me." He chuckled as he continued to tease her, listening to her moan and watching her squirm in frustration. When he had teased her enough he said, "Now to complete the wrap."

"How dare you assault me in my own home, you brute," she said unconvincingly. "What gives you the right to…?" That was as far as she got before his hand clamped over her mouth and all that escaped was a muffled, "Mmff."

"Shh, Miss Smythe. Sometimes you have too much to say." Removing his hand, he immediately covered her mouth with a length of adhesive tape, pressing it firmly over her top and bottom lip. Panicked, she tried to open her mouth but couldn’t. Shaking her head, she could but utter tiny little squeals of protest.

Taking a new roll of cling wrap, he continued. He slowly worked his way over her butt and down her thighs, ensuring he pulled her legs together as he went. When he reached her knees he stopped before wrapping one arm around her and with no warning at all, he delivered three firm spanks to her tightly wrapped butt. The plastic wrap actually absorbed some of the sting, while providing a very different sensation. Her eyes opened wide and she snorted in shock.

Watch for the release of the next exciting part of this complex and erotic adventure that takes place in the exciting city of Sydney.

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