"Submitting with grace isn't about having no fear; it's about getting through the fear and, like a fire to metal, creating a stronger alloy of love and passion, not despite your fear or pain, but partially because of them.
"God, Tracy, I want you. I know I don't say that much, because I don't like to compromise you, and I won't, ever. You don't ever have to come to me, in a physical sense. But I'll always be here for you, waiting, as I once said, for a thousand years.
"But enough of that. We'll begin with a series of assignments. You'll complete each one, and then write me a detailed email telling me what you did, how it felt, and what you think you got out of it. It will be an adventure for both of us."
Tracy was surprised by her first assignment. She had expected more sexual denial and withholding her own pleasure, which had been an intensely erotic experience. When Kyle had entered her that night, she was truly wet and open, though not for him. In her state of arousal, she was able to relax sufficiently to really enjoy Kyle's thrusting and pummeling.
She found herself responding to his body, and had tried to kiss his mouth, but he pulled away, intent, as usual, on his penis inside of her, and little else. Closing her eyes, Tracy imagined it was Paul taking her body, and felt a rising heat and a lovely pressure building inside of her. Shit, she was going to come! He had expressly, directly, ordered hernot to.
She tried to still her body; to control her reactions to Kyle's cock in her pussy and Paul's image in her mind. A moan escaped her lips and Kyle responded with his own grunts of pleasure. "You feel so good tonight, babe," he murmured, his voice low with pleasure. "Oh, God!" he cried suddenly, ejaculating into her. Tracy braced herself for his final thrusts, which were always the hardest and usually hurt her. Tonight they didn't hurt, and she was almost sorry when they subsided.
Tracy could feel Kyle's heart pounding against her breasts. She was still on fire with lust, Paul's voice still in her ears, but she had obeyed him. She hadn't come, and now she would close her legs, keep them closed, and go to sleep, with fiery dreams and his name on her tongue.
Remembering it now, with a little shake of her head, Tracy brought herself back to the present, and Paul's email. Her first assignment was to go to an adult boutique and get herself a small butt plug! Eww, was her first response. Kyle had never shown the slightest interest in her ass, and that had been just fine with her!
She had a boyfriend in her freshman year of college who had tried to convince her to have anal sex, but she had wanted no part of it. The very idea frightened her. That little hole just wasn't meant for something so big and hard as a cock!
One day, teasing her, the boyfriend, whose name was Steve, had playfully wrestled her to the bed. They were naked and kissing, not yet having made love. He had pinned her down, with her belly to the bed. They were both breathing hard and laughing, and Tracy was more than a little turned on. He lifted her by the hips, forcing her into a position on her hands and knees, and he had stuck his tongue against her puckered little asshole.
Eighteen year old Tracy was shocked, and jerked away from him. He laughed, and said, "Come on, baby, you'll love it. I promise. Let me show you!" She wouldn't let him near her bottom, and he finally gave up.
One thing he did do, she now recalled, that had been a big turn on for her, he held her wrists when he licked her pussy. It had happened one day by accident. He was licking and suckling her, and she was close to orgasm. She didn't want to come yet, but wanted to wait until he was inside her, so she pushed his head away.
He ignored her and moved right back into position, licking her clit, drawing her close to the edge of release. She pushed his head again, more roughly, and he grabbed a wrist in each hand, holding them tightly so she couldn't struggle out of his grasp.
It had been wildly exciting to her, though she was still too repressed at the time to admit just why. With her wrists held tight, he continued to lick her to blinding orgasm. She had been a limp rag doll after that, but he didn't seem to mind as he climbed over her and fucked her, coming quickly as a nineteen year old boy will do.
After that, she always pushed his head away, and he obligingly grabbed hold of her wrists and held her still while he tongued her to orgasm. Their relationship fizzled out, but she had always remembered the feel of his strong fingers, tight upon her wrists.
With Kyle, whom she met during her sophomore and final year of college, she tried to recreate the experience, pushing his head away, hoping he would grab her wrists as Steve had.
Kyle, not knowing her secret agenda, obliged by reasonably assuming she didn't want him to do that anymore, which suited him, since, for him, it was just a means to 'get her ready' for his sizable cock.
She also tried to get him to wrestle with her, and pin her down, as Steve had, but he didn't understand the game, and she gave up rather quickly, not willing to explain herself or even to try and understand her own motives better.
Thinking now of Steve, whom she hadn't thought of in years, she remembered his hot wet tongue on her ass, and wondered if today she would still push him away. Probably. Yet Paul wanted her to go into an adult bookstore, which in itself was embarrassing enough, and buy a butt plug – and use it on herself. He told her to get some lubricant and press that little plug up into her asshole. While she was doing that, she was to remind herself whose ass it was. Not hers, but his, to do with as he pleased. Today it pleased him to have her debase herself in this manner. Erotic humiliation, he called it. Just the words made her shiver.
Once it was in, she was to wear it all day at the bank. When she got home, she could take it out, then he wanted a full report.
Tracy entered the adult boutique in a seedier part of downtown, feeling a little anxious about being there. Certainly she wouldn't see anyone she knew. Nonetheless, she glanced around furtively as she entered the dingy little shop, which was called the Pink Pussy Cat Boutique and promised hours of exotic pleasure for the adventurous.
As she opened the door, a little bell jingled halfheartedly. A bored looking middle-aged man stared at her indifferently as she entered. He looked back down at his slick magazine, leaving her to take in the place without being disturbed. Mercifully, the room seemed to be empty of other customers. There was a large magazine rack in the center of the poorly lit room, filled from top to bottom with 'girlie magazines' sporting women with impossibly huge breasts, leering lasciviously at the camera.
Along a few sagging shelves were items guaranteed to enhance a couple's sex life, including a variety of dildos and vibrators. They were made from metal and rubber, some shaped like silver bullets, others of a soft flesh colored rubber pressed into the shape of a real penis, complete with its own set of balls. There were oils and lotions designed to delay, or induce orgasm, and various bits of feather, lace and underwire that passed as lingerie.
There were also black leather dog collars with metal studs, and leashes. A few poorly made whips hung along the wall. It wasn't much, but Tracy took it all in, eyes wide, fingers twitching nervously against her shoulder bag. The collars and whips drew her eye again and again, as did the bright red ball gag tied around the head of a wig stand dummy.
The clerk chose that moment to harrumph loudly, as if to ask her what her business was. She jumped a little, disconcerted, and refocused on the task at hand. Stepping nearer the dildo display, she found what she was looking for. There was an array of anal plugs, ranging in size from several fingers to flat out huge. Tracy picked up the smallest one. It was made of a very hard rubber, and was encased in plastic shrink-wrap. It was narrow at the top and widened at the base, flaring out with a little circle of rubber to keep it in, she supposed.