lesbian sub

1. The Starbucks storefront was mostly empty when he walked in at midafternoon. A few people at the tables, two bored baristas behind the counter cleaning up, anonymous light jazz on the sound system. He was looking forward to this first meeting, as he ordered a Grande latte and took it to one of the armchairs, with a view of the parking lot. Her online profile did not give him much to work with, beyond a shadowy photo and a name. He was trying to assess each woman on the sidewalk as they approached, and he was surprised when he heard a voice just behind him.

“I am thinking you are probably David—or Graywood?” He looked up with a start, to see a tall woman who had been at one of the back tables when he came in. She was dressed for casual business, like a realtor or a therapist on an afternoon break.

She wore her dark hair smoothly cut, above her neck, and fashionable small glasses with dark frames. She was wearing a charcoal short jacket and pants, probably from some expensive designer he did not know, with a burgundy cashmere sweater under the short open jacket that showed the swell of her breasts. As he was trying to find his voice, a second smaller woman came to her side, carrying two cups of coffee and a large purse. The second woman was paler, and less intense. He had a quick image of ash blonde hair and a plain skirt and blouse under her long wool coat. She was looking down, not at him.

“David, ask us to join you.”

He was feeling foolish now, whatever he had expected this was not the scene he had pictured. “Yes, um, please, here, join me, can I help you?” He started to stand, and to push out chairs for them. The dark haired woman sat close to him, taking the coffee but ignoring the second woman as she sat and tried to arrange her coffee, bag, and coat. This meeting had been arranged and then rescheduled several times; leaving him unsure if that too was part of a dominance game or just random changes in ordinary life. He realized also that she had not given him her name.

“Linden, this is David, who calls himself Graywood, you have seen his emails, the ones with his over-intellectualized ideas on submission and how he would serve a dominant female. I think he is going to find it is not what he thinks.”

He was surprised the private email had been shared, and was wondering who Linden was, when her purse tumbled open and change spilled across the table and onto the floor. Without thinking, he slid his chair back and crouched to pick up the coins she had dropped. “Linden, see, it’s only been a few minutes and we already have this one at our feet” she laughed.

His face was pink with embarrassment when he sat back at the table, sipping his coffee and not sure what to say now. “I think you are seeing that reality is different than you might have thought. Let me be as clear as I can: I have found that I am a person who gets enjoyment from seeing others being used, sort of a sadist but not especially interested in pain, I find the mental rebuilding more interesting, but I may chose pain for others when I want to. Pain per se is more a corrective tool for me. What I want is simply your submission to my will, whether that is in a sexual direction or not. I will enjoy it; you may learn something about your own limits.”

“You also need to understand what this is not; I am not your girlfriend, or lover, or Mistress, or some silly term, you will just call me M. You are not ever going to fuck me, get that out of your mind, and I will decide how to direct you as I chose. You can leave anytime, but if so we will never talk again, and if I lose interest in you, same thing. By the way, this is Linden, not really her name, my senior submissive, who has the same rules; I chose to dominate both women and men. Are you ready to go now?”

Without waiting, she slid her chair back and stood, headed for the door. He stood quickly to follow, since she was not waiting for his reply, and he saw the woman called Linden gathering her things to follow. At the door, he caught it and held it as she opened it, but was surprised when she stopped short and turned to him angrily. “This is not date night, stop acting like it is; just leave your car here and get your ass in my car now.”

2. He followed without thinking, and at her black SUV he climbed into the rear seat, as Linden slid into the back from the other side. There were no questions he could bring himself to ask, as the car drove quickly over the suburban roads, but dozens of questions in his mind. The afternoon light had turned cold and gray when they pulled up to a stone-faced house set apart from its neighbors. He had to scramble out to keep up as M went to the front door and Linden followed him. As she opened the door he saw a hall with a black and white marble floor and what looked like good antique furniture. She took a few steps in, and then closed the door behind them.

“In my home, Gray, the rules are simple, and Linden already knows them. Speak when I ask you to, only then. You have no choices and no personal space, do as you are told or you will be gone. I will decide what amuses me, and you will do your best to follow instructions. Outside of this hallway, across the line of white tile, you have nothing of your own, only what I chose to give you to use. You may say ‘yes, M’ to show you understand.”

He paused a few seconds, his mind racing. “Yes, M. I understand.”

“Gray, take Linden’s coat and put it in the closet with your own.”

That seemed easy and natural; he took the wool coat as she removed it, and hung it with his own in a closet full of the usual coats and umbrellas, then turned back to her.

“Gray, please remove Linden’s blouse and bra, and fold them neatly on the hall table. She will keep her other clothing for now. Do not touch her.” His face colored, as he stepped close to the smaller woman, whose face was neutral. She did not move as he fumbled at first then found his way with the small buttons, and the catch of her plain bra. As he removed it, carefully trying not to touch her skin, he felt the weight of her breasts and saw the nipples tighten in the cool air.

As he turned back from folding the clothing, he saw M watching him as she addressed the woman. “Linden, please remove Gray’s clothing, all of it, and put it on the bench where he can find it later.” There was nothing to do but stand still, as she demonstrated his loss of personal space. Linden kept her neutral expression, as her fingers lightly touched him and worked the buttons and belt buckle and zipper, and slid his briefs down. Although she went through the process as efficiently as if it were part of a medical visit, the sensation of being naked in the front hall, exposed to two women, made him both embarrassed and aroused. A sudden slap by M on his bare ass brought him back to deflated reality.

M brought a silver chain leash out of the drawer, looped it in her hand and walked around them. She used the flat of her hand on his buttock, again, hard and watched Linden’s face as the slap echoed in the hall and her nipples tightened. Then she turned and made a light slap on Linden’s bare breast, leaving a red mark, and watching Gray with a slight smile as his cock hardened at the sight. “I think you two may be well suited to each other, for this.” She looped the cold chain around the base of his cock, and handed the leash to Linden. “Take him to the study, please.”

The chain tightened around him and he had to walk quickly to keep up, his eyes on Linden’s upper body bare above her skirt, her heels tapping on the wood floors as they moved through the warmly furnished home. The study turned out to be a book-lined room with a view of the dark garden and the teal sky above the black trees. M had left them during the walk, so they stood and waited, as he felt the cold chain around him. Once again there was nothing to say.

When M arrived, she had shed her jacket and carried a cup of tea. She seated herself in a large chintz arm chair, with her tea on a side table, and smiled at the pair of them. “I think I would enjoy seeing the two of you expressing some passion, the feeling you get with orgasm, but here is how we will do it. Sit on the floor, facing each other, legs in a wide V, feet touching each other. Linden, keep a firm grip on that chain leash.” He looked around, and then folded himself to the polished wood floor, his bare skin chilled as he arranged his naked body.

Linden let a look of annoyance cross her face, and awkwardly sat on the floor, her skirt riding up above her knees, her heeled shoes touching his bare feet, her legs spread wide. The nipples on her bare breasts were rosy and extended. She flicked the chain to make it tug at the base of his cock, reminding him it was there.

“So, Gray, is this your fantasy come true? Your manly body, naked, with two women, your cock hard? Perhaps not quite. You can see Linden, but not touch her, and she will not touch you except to tug on your leash when she needs your attention. I want you to keep yourself hard, but not cum until I tell you to, if I tell you to. Linden however will touch herself and orgasm at least once. Your job is to express to her, with looks, not words, how much you want her to get there, how desirable she is, and how much you want her while knowing you will never have her. She is rewarded when she cums, and you are punished if you do. Sounds fair? Ok, both of you, begin.”

His cock hardened when she snapped the leash, and he looked at her, trying to make his expression warm and loving and pleading as she pushed her own skirt up and slid her hand under it to push aside a small thong, stroking herself while ignoring him. He touched himself, feeling the hardness but trying to not be sensitive to it, as he watched her hand working, and her hard nipples and swaying breasts. His eyes slipped from her face to her widespread thighs, to her hand between her legs working faster.

He saw her eyes close, and her head tip back, her skin flushed as she got closer, and touched himself more urgently. The clink of china made him glance at M, sitting comfortably, watching them both with a slight smile. He felt himself become harder under her gaze, as he saw Linden breathing hard and shaking as she began to cum.

He watched her face as she felt the wave of orgasm, but kept his hands on the floor behind him, not touching his cock now. He had never watched a woman like this before, and he felt himself balanced on the edge, just needing a touch to cum hard. “Graywood, would you like to cum for us now? I think you would, to impress us with your awesome manhood.” M was laughing now. “Not likely to happen however, not today at least. I want you to hold this edge, to feel what it is like not to have the easy release you have in your own fantasies. Ok, stand up and come here.” She was out of her chair now, headed toward a room beyond the kitchen, which he saw was a rear vestibule with coats and boots.

“You need something to wear, to remind yourself that you are owned and controlled now, just some some nude lover in this scene. Here, come closer.” As he did he noticed Linden watching from the hall, still topless, her skin flushed, with a slight smile at his condition. M took down a long belt, wrapping it around his hips to hang below his belly, and draped a white hand towel from the shelf over the belt, to hang like a loin cloth over his cock. From the shelf, she took down a handful of wooden spring clothespins and teased out his nipples, to clip them onto him. The pain was sharp enough to make him gasp.

“There I think this will be your house uniform for a while, take a look at yourself in the mirror.” His vision of himself as a heroic figure faded quickly; what he saw was ridiculous, a middle aged balding man with a too-large belly, dressed like cartoon of a sumo wrestler, the white cloth hanging under his belly, and the clothespins bobbing from his chest, where the pain was beginning to dull if he pushed it back in his mind.

There was no mistaking his role, a slave or a servant, kept mostly naked to make the point, not for his inspiring looks. His cock was kept from view, but fully accessible and there was no costume to hide behind. He was clearly a submissive who chose to accept this role, and at the orders of M. She slapped him on the ass, urging him to the laundry room next to the vestibule. She posed him with his hands behind his back for ten minutes, then removed the clamps with a rush of blood to his flattened nipples. “You need to get used to these, each time you are here we will do five more minutes with them, until you beg to have them longer. Ok, house slave Gray, the baskets of soiled laundry are here, with the detergent and other things; no exotic lingerie or panties for you to fantasize about, just lots of dirty clothing and linens. Get these started, watch the dryer and don’t let things wrinkle by staying in too long. Once the laundry is in, there are dishes to do in the kitchen.”

She stepped closer and let her fingertips trail over his skin, flicking his sore nipples, reaching under the cloth to lightly slap his cock, scratching the side of his buttocks with the long nails. “The point here, Gray, is that you have given up the idea of personal space and control already. I can touch you anytime, and I have decided whether or not you can orgasm, and decided not to permit that, I have given you the clothing which it amuses me for you to wear, I have changed your self-image as a sexual character, and I have decided how you will spend your time here today, on useful work.” She turned and went into the rest of the house, taking Linden by the hand.

He was left with his image in the mirror, as he worked on the laundry- a naked male slave in an ordinary house, while two women ignored him and laughed at how quickly he had given up a lifetime of thinking of himself as a man in charge. He realized, too, that these ordinary household tasks now had a sexual edge in his mind, as he began to associate the work with his new role.


The sun was going down outside the large kitchen window as he finished his new work, with folded laundry on the table and clean dishes put away. When M came into the kitchen, she glanced at the results of his afternoon and without comment opened the basement door.

“Downstairs Gray, stand on the marks and wait.” He was tired as he once again went down the stairs, finding the two X’s taped on the floor, standing with his legs apart. He was facing the stone wall, of an ordinary basement, not a themed dungeon. He stood quietly, hearing M in the kitchen above, with the noises of cooking and starting dinner. When she came down, her simple flat shoes were quiet on the stairs. He sensed her behind him, and he saw himself as she must, almost naked except for the belt and the hanging towel he wore. She took each wrist, to buckle onto it a wide leather cuff with clinking rings, then pulled his wrists above him to clip the rings to a hanging snap hook. She had said nothing, and he was standing like a ‘Y’ now, arms above him and legs wide.

She moved away, then came back from the laundry room with a basket of wooden clothespins, which she began to clip onto his skin. Her fingers worked his nipples again, to put the clips there, then in a row along the folds of his skin along his thighs and belly. She added one on his lip, and then stood back. “Gray, think about what you are now, something I control. Think about how you are hungry now, try and smell the cooking, and, well, just wait.” She lit a scented candle and tapped up the stairs.

The waiting left him aching and thinking about his senses, the dull pain of the clamps he could not change, the smell of vanilla from the smoky candle, the farther away smells of warm meat cooking, bread, aromatic foods. He lost track of time but was conscious of his hunger now.

When M returned, he his hearing and sense of smell seemed more acute, and even facing the wall he could tell she had brought food and he was suddenly grateful, even as he was still cuffed and aching. He tensed as she stung his ass with an unexpected blow of the knotted flogger he had given her before as a gift, before this reality. She removed a clamp from one nipple, and he felt the sharp pain of blood returning. She alternated, striking him and removing a clamp, so that he came to associate pain and relief, as each clamp came away.

He was shaking and gasping when she took his hands down, which were almost numb by now, and moved him to kneel on the rug nearby. As he slid to his knees, she slipped a soft blindfold over his eyes, so that he was in darkness. She clipped his hands behind him, and he heard the clink of silver and china as she brought over a dish from upstairs. He smelled the food, and was hungry again, but without his sight he could not tell what she was serving. He was grateful when she brought the spoon to his, lips, and he tasted something slippery and soft, with a sharp taste- some kind of steamed vegetable perhaps, but he swallowed it and was thankful. She spooned food into his mouth, different tastes and smells he could not identify, some spicy and some salty and sweet, some with a disgusting texture he choked down.

He heard the pop of a wine bottle opened, the splash of a pour, and felt her hand on his collar, bending him forward on his knees until he touched a cold metal dish. He smelled the aroma of the wine, and put his face into the dish, lapping up a cool white wine, swallowing and feeling it coating his face.

July 2018
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