Message-ID: <35880asstr$1017166203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: Subjukated@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <130.b937ca5.29d12ca0@aol.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 25 Mar 2002 20:45:04 EST Subject: {ASSM} subcontractor 2 of five Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2002 13:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, gill-bates <1st attachment, "subcontractor2.txt" begin> Warning: This work of fiction contains graphic and adult situations. It is not meant for children or those who are offended easily. It may be a violation of state, federal or international law to possess, read or share this document. Please review your local and international laws and regulations before reading or sharing this file and be the law abiding citizen you ought to be. DO NOT under any circumstances share this document with anyone under legal age. If you are a parent, act responsibly and lock it up. If you are a minor, do not read this document at all. Some things are not meant for everyone. This story is one of those things. Subcontractor Chapter two: "Ladies first." by Subjukate "That is an impressive belt you are wearing! What is it made of?" Jack asked her after studying her dress from across the room. "Leather straps, Japanese knots, and four dark and lonely nights." Mrs. Murphy stated flatly. She was examining the ceiling, and so she wasn't really thinking about what he said to her. "You made that yourself, didn't you?" Suddenly the ceiling wasn't as important as it was the moment before. It became clearer to her that the house manager was probing for information. She looked down at him, and she realized that he had purposefully chosen this moment to address this issue. He was considerably taller than she was normally, but while she was on the ladder this was not the case. She looked down on him. Height creates the illusion of control. "Mr. Whitehurst?" "You may call me Jack. Everyone in the house calls me Jack," he interrupted. "Jack..." she said carefully, "Why would you ask me such a question?" "Because we have common friends, in common circles, and they tell me that you are an extraordinary woman." He began to walk around the ladder and talk to the floor. "They tell me that you have passionate interests, and some of them involve leather and knots." "Bondage, dominance, submission... masochism.... This is where we are going with this conversation, isn't it?" "We could, I suppose." She put the stud-finding tool on a tray in front of her, as her arms had begun to ache from holding them above her head. She composed her response very carefully. She formed the words in her mouth before she said them. If she said this correctly, she wouldn't hurt his feelings. The Dominants always had such sensitive feelings, no matter what they said. She began stepping down the ladder, and bringing herself to his eye level, where she locked eyes with him. "I wish to make something very clear about my passions, Mr. Whitehurst," she began soberly. "I was married for seventeen years to the same man. Our love was so complete that I never had a want for anyone else. Our marriage was open, but I never engaged in 'swinging.' I never loved anyone else. I loved my husband so much, I never met anyone I wanted more." As she went through her next words she dropped herself below his head and looked down. This would give him power, and make him more in control of the situation in spite of what she would say to him. She hoped. "But the man who was in complete control of everything I wanted or wished for has left me. Because of this, I do not wish for the same things anymore. Food is no longer interesting to me. I no longer see the seasons of the earth. People keep telling me that I will feel better someday, but that isn't happening." She took a step with her bare foot onto the floor. She was grateful for the woolen rug, as she had begun to dread the coldness of the floors. She studied the pattern of knots in the rug made by the hands of children, and then she said, "For years, pain was my personal pleasure toy, and now I have met with a form of suffering that nothing has made easier. Nothing makes me feel better. Nothing makes it feel good. Nothing helps." She studied the door and was quiet. He was standing between her and escape. How did he manage to anticipate that? "Divorce?" he pressed. "Car accident." She waited for his guilt to equal the pain this was causing her. And then she said, "When I married my husband I said ' 'Til death do us part.' The thought never occurred to me that if he died, I would too.... I am a walking corpse. Medication makes it possible for my body to move without my soul being in it. Maybe this falls short of your expectation, but I am standing in hell." She took a long breath, then she locked eyes with him. "I wear this belt because it is long enough to encircle my hips. It's long enough that I can bind myself whenever I want. And if I wish to use it in ways that it was not intended, I know I can. This is not a passing whim of kink for me, Mr. Whitehurst. Pain is my religion and dominance is the clergy I follow. It is the only comfort that I know. I'd be grateful if you didn't belittle me as some submissive misfit, thinking that you can get me into bed." Jack was caught completely off guard. He knew that he'd stepped into something much larger than a simple t te- -t te. She'd been a practicing submissive for decades! This was not an engagement for a person who ties his girlfriend up on the weekends. "I did not know," he said quietly. "Forgive me." "Did you come in here for a reason, Mr. Whitehurst?" "Yes I did. You requested the ballroom for Tuesday night, and you have been granted its exclusive use for that evening only." "I need to do some tests in there. I can't seem to figure out what is in the walls..." she muttered. He waited and said, "Also, a package arrived for you yesterday. It's in the kitchen." She stepped closer to him, just to make him uncomfortable, but he went on, "And lastly, I wanted to ask you about your progress with the quote for the price of wiring this house for the computer network." "I'm getting there." "The other firm has already finished. Why is it taking you so much longer?" "Well, I don't want to destroy the architecture of the house. That would be a travesty, so I have to figure out how I'm going to run the wires without ruining the structure. Secondly, I was waiting for the package in the kitchen." "Ah. Now, I'm curious. What's in the package in the kitchen?" She smiled at him and said, "It is good for us to want things, Mr. Whitehurst... enjoy." The next time he saw her, she was staring at a wall, with blueprints draped over her upraised knee. She was knocking on the plaster and listening to the sound. She would look under the picture hanging in front of her. She was looking for something; after what happened in the library, he was looking for a way to make amends. "You look puzzled, Mrs. Murphy." "Anna. It's Anna." "You will be 'Anna' the day I am 'Jack." "Oh. I've been addressing you incorrectly. My apologies. My grandmother beat manners into me as a child. I never really recovered from that. Excuse me." He smiled at the thought of an old woman beating her. She went on, "Jack. Jack, ummmm, I've got an inconsistency with this wall and these documents." She pointed to the file. "See, on this, there is a door, but on the wall there isn't a door. What happened to the door that used to be here?" "Oh, it's still there, you just can't see it." "Why?" "Do you really need this information?" "Yes. I do. There is a room on the other side of this wall and I need to see it." "Okay. Remember those non-disclosure agreements you signed before your arrival?" "Yes sir, I do." "Well, you will now have cause not to disclose anything to anyone." "I'm not following you." He took out an electronic key and pointed it at the wall. "Perhaps you should." The picture moved to the side, and revealed a door. Jack again opened the door for her. "Ladies first," he said. It was a narrow doorway that led to a narrow hall, that led to a big doorway with a really big door. She looked at the door and asked, "Why isn't this on the blueprints Hadyn gave me, but it is on the files I got from the historical society?" "Hadyn likes to keep this part of the house very private." "Why?" "Because in there is where he throws his private parties." "What's in there?" "The dungeon." "Oh." "I'm sure you can see the dilemma. We can't have the contractors knowing about the dungeon. Most of the staff doesn't even know about it. Would you like to see it, Anna?" She smiled and looked down with a sigh. In disbelief she asked, "You have a dungeon?" "We also have a swimming pool, but that isn't nearly as interesting." She laughed. It was the first time he had heard her laugh. She stared at the door. "I don't want to go in there." "So don't. It's lunch time and you don't eat very often. Let me take you back to the kitchen and feed you things that will make your clothes fit differently." "I have to go in there because of my job." "Yes, it would seem that way. If it is any comfort, the other firm didn't bother to look for this, and it is doubtful that we will want to wire this room for a computer." "Go in there with me." "As you wish." Again, he opened the door for her. He actually had to hold it open by bracing his arm in the doorway and putting his back to the door. She had to walk underneath his outstretched arm. She brushed passed him, and noticed that he smelled good. She smiled. A sweet-smelling man, larger than life, in an old useful dungeon. She was reminded why she used to like this lifestyle so much. And then the thought occurred to her... Jack is incredibly kissable. I should kiss Jack. She paused in the doorway and looked up at him. He smiled and looked down at her. He could tell that she wanted to kiss him, and this pleased him. He was not surprised when she stepped up to him, and tilted her head in a movement he knew all too well. "Anna... it is good to want things," he told her as he turned his head to the side refusing her kiss. "Oh my... I'm sorry, Jack." She was blushing as she looked around the room. It was a well equipped dungeon. It had everything a good dungeon would have. Stocks, two types of crosses, medical equipment, condoms, cabinets with locked doors. On the walls were common elements of BDSM: Deerskin and leather floggers; a dressage whip; five different sizes of paddles; rope; chains; long Velcro straps; and blindfolds. There was another room to the left, but she couldn't see past the doorway. "What's in there?" she asked. "Bed and bath to accommodate as many as twelve guests." "Ah." She took a deerskin flogger from the wall and placed it on a metal table that ran at right angles to the wall. She untied her belt of knots and placed it on the table next to the flogger. Then she pulled her dress over her head. She was wearing a pink lacy bra and a leather thong underneath. Clearly she wasn't thinking about color coordination this morning when she dressed. "What are the penalties for using his dungeon without his permission?" she asked as she hefted the flogger in her right hand. "I don't know. No one has ever done it. I would think that the punishment would be pretty severe, though. He'd hate to be left out." "What must I do so that he never finds out?" "Anna, this is a reaction that Pavlov would be proud of. You and I don't know each other. I don't commonly do this kind of thing." "I don't either. But I never will if I don't do it now." She had a really good point. The odds of her repeating this kind of courage later would be much less if she did not do this now. For her sake, it would be better if he helped. He pondered what she actually wanted and needed. Quick, devise a scene suitable for a broken woman that you don't know. "Put your hands on the wall there, and put this foot here, and this foot here," he ordered, as he physically moved her to the wall and placed her just so. "What's your safe word?" "I don't have one." "Oh, don't lie to me. Of course you have a safeword! You can't engage in the scene for years and years without one!" He studied the length of her backside and lower back, calculating the swing of the flogger. He noted the way her fingers felt the roughness of the wall. Ooooo. Nervousness. Not too hard. Not too soft... Gotta be ... Whack. "Oh." Just right. "What's your safeword?" he asked again. "I don't have one." ::: Whack::: Ohhh. She likes that. It's the interrogation part that makes the whipping worthwhile. He was grateful that she chose the deerskin flogger and not the leather one. He didn't want to cause her actual pain. All the pain she would get in this transaction should come from the suffering of years without it, and the newness of it all. "Arcanna." He addressed her using her whole name, like her grandmother probably did when she beat manners into her as a child, "Arcanna, you may not return to the scene without safety! What is your safeword?" "I can't give it to you. It is sacred to my master alone." ::Whack:: She was upset now, but her backside was barely turning pink. Oh yes, today the pain is all in her head. The worst kind. "Give it to me." "No!" ::Whack:: Her feet were slipping. "Legs apart. Keep them there. Don't make me get the spreader bar." She smiled. He swore she smiled just then. :::Whack:: "Ow! Oh, that hurts!" That one actually did hurt. He swung a little high that time. He weighed the consequences of stopping. He studied her face. She did not want him to stop. ::Whack:: "This excites you, doesn't it? You like this kind of thing?" "Yes..." she whispered. "I do." "Makes you wet?" "I don't know. I can't tell." Oh... Now he would have to check. She did that on purpose! Now, he would get aroused, and the odds of him finding any relief at all were thin. Apparently, there would be suffering on his part as well. What luck! He drew her feet apart and carefully checked her sex. She was terrified, and shaking... and in her element. The outer lips were unaffected, but when he went deeper he found that she was wanting. She cringed when he went deeper. He spoke softly in her ear as he touched her there. "Hey, hey, hey... you can stop this at any time. We can stop whenever you want. You are okay. This is a safe place. You are still in control." "This is hard for me. I'm usually bound when I do this." "I can't bind you, yet, Anna. I don't know you." "I know. "Try to make the best of it. Tell me your safeword." She smiled. "No." ::whack:: "Oh!" This time, he rubbed her backside with his free hand and began to kiss the back of her neck. She wiggled her butt in an effort to reposition his hand. In the process one hand raised off of the wall. ::Whack:: "Hands against the wall, please!?" he shouted. She bowed head. "You are really good at this. What are your hourly rates?" :::WHACK!:: He'd have to purchase a lottery ticket after this... She cringed underneath the blow. He winced in unison. The skin on the curve of her ass was turning pink. She was hot and ready. She wouldn't need flogging now. "Obviously you are having a problem following my simple commands. I'll have to relieve you of any responsibility. On the table." Oh my God! she thought... The TABLE! Yeah! The table! The table! She made a valiant effort to conceal her glee, but they were both smiling when he helped her onto it. Straps were still present from the previous occupant. Anna started to bind herself, but he stopped her. "Stay," he said. He bound both feet and her left hand. "Now...We have rules here, and everyone abides by them, including you. So... for the last time, what is your safeword?" She was quiet and smiled at him. Her nipples were hard and poking through her bra. He could smell the wetness of the leather in her thong. The thong had to go. He carried a small knife in a strap on his boot. He took it from his boot and instructed her to close her eyes. She was obedient even now as he showed her how cold steel gets in dark places. Once she was clear what it was that he was caressing her with, he cut the thong straps near her groin. When the strap fell, he was reminded of the fact that obedient women have no hair anywhere but on their heads. A wave of want came over him. Oh how he wanted to clean her cunt. He sighed and touched her chest. Under any other circumstance, he'd have clamped her nipples by now and made her suck his cock, but ...and he had to keep reminding himself of this... he did not know her. The rules of first engagement are not like any other. He stood at the head of the table, gazing down the length of her body. Her free hand would sometimes stroke his hair and touch his neck. Her eyes were still closed and she was still smiling. "May I touch you?" he asked. "May I touch you the way you want to be touched?" "Please." He was careful to trace the movements of his hands so she would know where they were. When he was closer to her mound, he was mindful of her breathing. He could see her trying not to strain into his hand. "You want me to do this? To make you come?" "Yes." He parted her lips for her, and instructed her to help herself. Her free hand moved downward, then began to massage the clitoris. He studied the way she moved and the way she responded to what she liked. Her hips began to rise and fall as she found her rhythm. When he was certain he could repeat it, he kissed her and took over. Once he found the right spot, and began the quick circles that she seemed to enjoy, her head fell towards him and she began to murmur. "Please... oh God... Please make me... please...." "Give me your safeword," he urged. "I can't. It is sacred. I promised I'd never tell." She caught her breath and her head jerked upright. "I can't help you unless you give me what I need." "I can't do this. I can't do this. Jack... we have to stop. I can't give you my safeword." "We stop when I have your safeword." Her breathing quickened, and she began to moan. She was getting so close. His fingers moved more quickly, He knew that she was clenching her inner muscles because the clitoris would contract from time to time. She was breathing more deeply now. "Jack... Please no. I can't give you my safeword." Anna was smiling, which confused him to some degree but he knew that even though she was saying words that said he should stop, she did not want him to. If he stopped now she would probably be very angry with him. So he watched her for signs of discomfort or struggling to get away. "You want me to stop?" "Please... please stop...." "NO!" He pressed harder, and moved his hand slightly; this increased the pressure, and pushed her closer to the edge. "What is your safeword, Anna?" "I can't... I can't... oh... I can't tell... OH!" He waited a moment before going to the next level, which he knew would make her come. He pressed his thumb above the swollenness of her sex. By doing this, it pressed it forward into his throbbing hand. "Master! Please... I beg you... Have mercy!" His heart melted. He would do anything for her now. She called him Master and begged. OH, how he could love this woman! "Please let me... please let me come...." "I want the safeword," he said matter-of-factly. "No..." Her body jerked quickly and she fought hard not to come. She wrestled with control... and lost. Involuntarily she yelped "Dune...!" He pressed into her harder, and drove her over the edge. Her body thrashed and she wailed. She was racked with spasms for minutes. He found himself saying sweet things to her softly. "You are a good and obedient girl. I know it's hard, but it will be worth it. Little bit more... come more for me." And after the last violent contraction he unbound her and helped her onto her side where she rested. He got up on the table and laid beside her. She did not notice that he was still wearing all of his clothes. Her head cradled in the crook of his arm, and his hand rubbed baby balm into the single mark on her backside. She would fall asleep soon, he deduced. Her breathing slowed. She grew calm. The world went away for her. But the last thing she would remember about the first engagement were the words he said to her as she fell asleep: "How can there be a heaven without you in it?" Copyright 2001. All rights reserved by subjukated. You may not alter the content of my writings in any way shape or form under any circumstances. I am not responsible for any actions taken due to the content of my writing. If you feel that you have reached this Copyright text in error.... Oh wait. Never mind. Authoress Contact Information: Subjukated@aol.com ; AIM nick: Subjukated. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice----- Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice----- ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+