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Carnal Submission by Rees Tilman

EXTRACT FOR
Carnal Submission 
(Rees Tilman)


Carnal Submission

CHAPTER 1 - TABLE SERVICE

 

Debby and I sat at the table, silent and watchful.  We were at the narrow ends, with the length of the table between us.  Our two male companions sat at the sides enjoying our company; conversing, laughing politely, attending to our every need.  The food was delicious and varied, expensive and perfectly prepared.  From a distance it would appear to be a normal social occasion.  Then you would begin to notice the odd things that were happening.

With courteous attention the men would pick up our fork or spoon, dip it into the food, and place it carefully in our mouths.  When we glanced down at our champagne glasses, the men raised them politely to our lips while we sipped.  Debby and I never touched our silverware or napkins.

We kept our arms stretched straight out to our sides, our hands always beyond the corners of the polished wood table, never using them.  We couldn’t.  Our wrists were cuffed to the silver chains secured to the strong metal poles level with our shoulders.  The tension on our wrists was just short of painful, but uncomfortable enough to be a constant reminder of our predicament.

Under the table our legs were spread open, our ankles cuffed to the ring bolts in the floor, positioned wider than the classic design table legs.  Our blouses gaped open, delighting the men dining with us.

There was a momentary lull in the conversation.  I looked across the length of the table and spoke softly.

“I’m sorry I got you into this, Debby.  It sounded like a fun idea when we were drunk, but now ...”

“It’s OK, Traci.  Mark and David don’t look evil, just mysterious and a little bit sinister.  Being held captive for a while is kind of dangerous and exciting.” Her lip trembled as she tried to smile. “I’m scared, but I’m having fun.”

Mark and David laughed quietly along with her nervous giggle.

“She’s right,” David said.  He leaned toward me, lifted my chin slightly with his fingertips and kissed me with a long, lingering tongue massage inside my mouth.  He sat back in his chair, but his fingertips remained.  They traced the curve of the heavy leather collar locked around my neck, then drifted down to feel an erotic path between my shivering breasts.  His mouth tightened to an almost cruel seriousness. “You are too trusting, my naive little captive, and now you are both the helpless prisoners of wicked and cruel villains.”

I thought I heard more than a hint of taunting in his voice.  The safety of their promises was fading, but I didn’t want to accuse them with only my imagination as evidence.  Besides - I tugged at my restraints - it was too late to say no!

“Are you girls warm enough?” Mark asked.

Debby nodded, her face flushed with champagne and embarrassment.

This is the reason Debby and I agreed to be kept bound and defenceless.  Debby is so shy and inhibited, but she has a healthy desperation for sex.  Me, too.  She never could have an orgasm with the dork of a boyfriend she clung to back in Iowa.

She and I wanted sex with real men who knew how to give a woman orgasm after orgasm, and this way we don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying it.

Well, here we are, about to get our wish.  We asked for it, and hope we didn’t make a mistake handing our bodies over in captivity to a couple of strange men we met only a few hours ago.

David leaned over toward me. “How about you, Traci? Are you comfortable?” He touched my shoulder and I felt the tremble in his fingers.

I guess I was trembling, too.  With only the light from the two candles on the table, this basement room was as dark and intimidating as a dungeon.  This Friday evening had started out so ordinary...

 

A tall, good-looking man with dark hair was dragging a willing Debby across the night club dance floor toward me, a victorious grin on his face.

“Traci,” Debby said, “this is Mark.  He and his friend David want to dance with us.  How about it?” She tossed her gleaming black pageboy hair and the sparkle in her eyes matched the facets of light reflected from her blue-sequinned cocktail dress.

“Sure,” I replied.  Traci and I had both lost our boyfriends - such as they were - when we moved to Northern Arizona three months earlier.  With the terrible loneliness I felt, and the wine buzzing in my head, I welcomed the attention.

David was waltzing solo behind them, a light-haired, artistic, tall and muscular type.  He was dressed in a rich dark, claret colour turtleneck and black slacks.

“May we?” he asked, extending his hand politely.

“Sure.”

A few dances later we four were sitting together in a dim corner, a lone candle making our faces appear to float in the darkness.  Debby’s raven black hair stroked her neck, complementing her ruby cupid’s-bow mouth.  My strawberry-blonde pelt nuzzled my shoulders and bare back.  I casually brushed it back and licked my lips absentmindedly.

I was reeling from the masculine scent of cologne and the press of a hard-muscled male body against mine.  There was something animal, something magnetic, some secret power these men had.  Debby and I glowed in the aura of attention these mature, handsome people showered on us.

They were real men!  Not like those pimply pizza boys whose imaginations always pawed at our breasts and lifted our skirts.

I was dreaming fantasies about David and I...

“Dave and I haven’t had dinner yet,” Mark was saying, “How about you ladies joining us?  Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” I replied.

Debby blushed and nodded, smiling.

David reached in front of me and squeezed my hands gently in his. “Mark knows a fantastic place for us to eat.  Nice and private, and we can be free to enjoy ourselves without worrying about who’s watching and listening.”

“Where is this place?” I asked.

“Let’s have another drink before we discuss it,” Mark said with a smile.  He and David glanced at each other.

I knew that look...

The waitress brought an ice bucket with champagne, and the men toasted Debby’s beauty, then mine.  David put his arm around my shoulders and I snuggled against him.

“Mark and I have this place about fifteen miles from here up in the hills - a nice house - and we have a live-in Italian cook.  She makes everything taste ... well ... you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

“Oh, gee,” Debby said with the slightest of alcoholic slurs, “I’d like that, but ... I don’t know if we should ...”

“Listen,” Mark said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I think I know what you’re saying.  What would you say if I told you there is a way to make it ok - make everything that happens my responsibility - Dave’s responsibility.  Dave and I have everything arranged for you to enjoy the most wonderful weekend of your lives.  We would have total control over you; everything you do, and everything you feel.  And since you would never have the opportunity to make a decision or have the freedom to do what you want to, you would never have to feel guilty or ashamed of what you are doing and feeling.”

“Doing and feeling what?” Debby asked.

“Let’s have another bottle of champagne while I explain my idea,” Mark said.

It was crazy!  It was wild!  But Debby and I agreed.  Mark’s voice was so masculine and sexy he made my belly tighten.

Damn, I’m horny!

My knees were week as we left and walked to their car.  David opened the rear door of the Lexus and Debby got in with Mark.  I rode in the front with David.  He shoved a CD into the player and soft, enticing music lulled us to perfect contentment.  The trip through the shimmering suburbs and out into the wooded hills of Northern Arizona was a magic carpet ride.

Are we nuts?  But they are so handsome and polite.

I looked out the side window and saw a star plummet from the velvet sky down into the hills where we were heading.

I wish - I wish - I wish for this to be ok.  It’s got to be ok!  I’m so horny for a man, and so is Debby.  We’re going to enjoy this!

David was talking on his car phone.  He was saying something about clothing styles and sizes.

 

Even in the dark we could tell this was no mere house.  It was more like a mansion.  Mark’s Lexus pulled into the driveway cut through the rock and soil of the hill, and a windowless steel garage door rolled open.  Not up overhead, but sideways, into the hillside.  David drove the car inside and it rumbled shut behind us before the light came on.

“We don’t like nosy neighbours,” David said.

What neighbours?  There wasn’t another house within three miles! “Hey,” I said, “my seat belt won’t release and my door won’t unlock.”

David turned and smiled at me. “Just a precaution in case you changed your minds and decided to leave before the fun begins.”

Ting-a-ling-a-ling!  The goose bumps alarm was ringing silently in my head.

Nah, he’s just kidding: I hope.

David reached his left hand under his seat, pressing something.  Debby’s and my seat belts popped apart, and the door locks released.  Mark was already outside, opening the doors.  We stepped out onto the dark blue carpet and I felt the brisk rush of an air-conditioned breeze.

In the wall to our left was another door, metal and windowless.  There was no handle or knob.  It was opened from the inside by a short, Spanish-looking girl of about nineteen; barely older than Debby and me.

She had long, shiny black hair falling behind her to her waist and was wearing a skimpy, backless maid’s uniform of crisp black satin.  It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, with only the gauzy white top of her lace-trimmed apron to cover her generous breasts.  The frilly lace trim of her flared skirt was at least three inches above the tops of her sheer white stockings.  Shiny white satin garters held them up.  Gleaming black stiletto heels flattered her tiny feet.

“Come in, Senoritas,” she said in a heavy accent.

“This is Consenta,” David said. “She takes care of the house when we are away.” He hugged me.  “And she takes care of Mark and me when we are home.”

Her genuine smile showed two white rows of perfect teeth.

“Wow,” I whispered to Debby, “Introduce me to her orthodontist.”

“Not on our waitressing wages,” Debby whispered back. “I wish I could afford her cosmetic surgery, just look at her tits!”

We went inside, through a foyer into the hallway.  Through one archway I saw a kitchen big enough for the Savoy.

“That’s Lucrezia, our Italian cook,” David said. “M-m-m-m, smells like dinner is almost ready.”

“Can I freshen up a bit?” Debby asked. “The dancing and champagne have made me ...” She turned to Consenta, “... do you have a bit of deodorant I might borrow?”

“Oh, Senoritas, we have thought of that.  Both of you and Masters Mark and David will enjoy a hot shower before dinner.”

“Separately, of course,” David said. “One bathroom for you, a separate one for Mark and me.”

Come, Senoritas, I will assist you.”

Debby and I waited until the men disappeared around a turn down the hall and we heard a door open and shut.  Then we followed Consenta around a turn in the other direction.

The bathroom was bigger than our apartment, the sunken tub larger than our bathroom!

Consenta smiled at Debby and me looking down into the tub with delight. “Perhaps the Master will let you have a bath tomorrow, but tonight you use the shower.  It’s hot, and there are plenty of white fluffy towels.”  There were three shower stalls along the wall. “One for you, one for Senorita Debby, and” she grinned “I already took my shower.” She tugged her skimpy flared skirt out to the sides and danced a pirouette around us, showing off her perfectly curved legs.

“Whose are these?” Debby asked.  She touched the blouses and skirts hanging in an alcove.

“Oh, Senoritas, they are fresh clean clothes for you.  Yours will be sent out to be cleaned in the morning.  Choose what you like.  Many colours and sizes are there.”

“But not many styles,” I said. “Just silk blouses and mini-skirts.”

“Mini-skirts?” Debby asked.  She held one against her waist. “More like micro skirts!”

“They are special made by Master’s instructions.  Very good material and sewing, si?”

“Excellent material and sewing,” I replied.  Well, I wasn’t surprised, or shocked.  Champagne and hormones are good antidotes for shame.

Consenta helped us undress and disappeared with all our clothing.  Debby was singing in the shower, and I accompanied her from mine.  She has a wonderful singing voice, and I envy her.

Consenta returned and called us out of the showers.  Her arms were filled with a hill of white towels.  She examined our naked bodies with bold, approving eyes.

“You have magnificent bodies, Senoritas.  Ah, you will make Masters Mark and David very happy.  That is good.  You will like being kept captive here.”  She giggled and sat down on the vinyl lounge chair.

“Hey,” I said. “Where’s our bras and panties?”

“Oh-h-h, Senorita Traci, it is against the rules!  Masters Mark and David say, `No bra, no panty. and no-o-o-o pantihose!  Just nice skirt and blouse for Senoritas Traci and Debby.”

We had stopped drying and stood like statues, staring at each other.

“What the hell,” I said after a moment. “They told us what they would do with us if we came home with them, and we said, `yes’.”

“It’s ok, if that’s really the only thing they will do to us,” Debby added.

“Senoritas,” Consenta said with a bubbly smile, “They do it to me much; and see? I am happy.”  Her white teeth flashed in the soft light.

Debby and I each selected a skirt and blouse and started to put them on.

“Oh Senoritas, you must pee first, before you get dressed.” She pointed at the deluxe toilet stool in the corner.  Debby went first.

I chose a pale blue blouse and a cinnamon skirt.  Debby had a white blouse and yellow skirt.  They both reached only a few inches below our unpantied pubis.

“I feel a draught,” she said, giggling.

“I expect that’s not all we’ll feel,” I replied.

Consenta escorted us out the door and down the hall to a salon-type room where Mark and David were waiting.  They had dressed in black evening suits, very handsome and distinguished.  Their elegant politeness and smiles relaxed my anxieties.

Mark stepped toward us, two long black cloths in his hands. “Now, Traci, Debby, we must ask you to understand and trust us for a few minutes.  Our dining and ... entertainment rooms are ... uh ... quite private.  We like to keep our entertainment ... well ... private and undisturbed.  That’s why we ask our first-time visitors to wear a blindfold while we take them there.  Are you comfortable with that?”

“Blindfold?” I asked. “I’m not sure I want to ...”

“We can always take you home, instead, of course,” Mark said.  He had stopped smiling.

Debby made a tiny gasp and turned her moist eyes toward mine. “Home? To what?  Hamburgers and TV reruns?  Just smell that dinner waiting for us here.  Please, Traci, let’s just let them blindfold us.  David said it would only be for a few minutes.” She wrapped her arms around Mark’s large biceps.  She looked into his face, her eyes glistening. “I want you, Mark, please don’t send us away.”

“You got brave in a hurry,” I commented.  Mark and David were looking at me impatiently. “Ok, I’m in for the game.  Blindfold me.”

I could tell by the echoes when we were walking in a hallway; by the feel of the lush carpet under my high-heels when we went through rooms.  Doors opened before us, closed behind us.  And always we heard the dreadful snick of a lock to drive home the fact that we were no longer free to leave.  I had given up that chance for both Debby and me.

Finally, after dozens of confusing turns and doubling back, a heavy door thudded shut behind us and we stopped.  My blindfold was pulled off.  I breathed a sigh of relief and thankfulness.  My courage had abandoned me in the darkness of the blindfold, and my vulnerability was beginning to feed the panic rising in my belly.

Mark and David, Debby and I, were standing in a tiny concrete-walled room at the top of a long flight of stairs leading down.  There were handrails mounted to the walls on both sides.

“We removed your blindfolds so these stairs wouldn’t frighten you,” David said. “Please be careful in your high heels.”

We stepped carefully down from step to step as I counted.  Twenty-four steps.  Hm-m-m, at eight inches per step - damn!  We’re sixteen feet down.  Must have high ceilings in their basement.

There was another one of those featureless steel doors at the bottom.  A row of numbered push buttons was mounted flush in the wall at eye level.  Mark shielded the buttons from our eyes and tapped in a combination.  The door slid open sideways into the thick concrete wall.

“Welcome, girls, to our very private world.” Mark and David led us through.  It was dim inside, the only light coming from two candles on the dinner table.  The chairs and table looked elegant and normal.  Crystal and fine china graced the table.  There were four cushioned walnut chairs waiting for us.  Everything else was too strange or too shadowed for us to see clearly.

Four thick metal poles were sticking up from the floor, positioned about two feet out from the four corners of the table.  The walls were constructed and decorated to look like the inside of a castle.

Consenta appeared with a large tray of food.  In addition to her skimpy maid’s uniform, she was now wearing a feathered black mask and a wide black leather collar.  A shiny metal ring hung from the front.  It flashed and glittered in the candle light.

Gold-plated, she said with pride.  She showed us the leather cuffs locked around her wrists and ankles, also with gold-plated rings.

“They are lined with real mink fur.  Master Mark says he paid five hundred dollars for them!”  Her smile was as prominent as her breasts.  Her long, shapely legs scissored provocatively as she moved around the table, positioning our napkins and serving the first course.

Mark smiled and spoke a few words to her in Spanish.  She kissed him lightly, then took Mark and David’s jackets and hung them along the wall near the door.

David turned and smiled at us. “Please, girls, you may remove your shoes here.  Your feet will feel more comfortable.”

I glanced at him and Mark, but their faces were masks of sincerity.  Debby and I slipped out of our high-heels and felt the warmth in the heated concrete floor.

Mark politely led Debby over to the table.  She hesitated, looking wide-eyed at the locking leather cuffs connected to the chains dangling from the thick poles.

“It will be all right,” Mark whispered in her ear.  He took her gently into his arms and kissed her tenderly.

“You won’t hurt me, will you?”

“I’ll be good, very good, when we play our games with your body.”

“Ok.” Debby sighed and sat down slowly.  She bent her head forward and closed her eyes as he took her hand and pulled it over to the pole.  I looked away as the dark band of stiff leather closed like a hungry mouth around her wrist.

“Traci?” David put his arm around my slim waist and led me to the table.  I sat down across from Debby without a word, watching silently while David gripped my hand firmly and pulled my arm straight out from my side.  The spacing poles must have been custom designed for girls our size, as Debby and I could almost touch them with our fingertips.  The sensual feel of sheared mink gripped tight around my wrist as the metal of the cuff lock snickered shut.

No turning back ...

David moved behind me to the other pole and pulled my other arm out straight.  The tight leather cuff trapped my other wrist in its unrelenting grip.  David pressed a button in the pole and the chains tightened with a clicking noise, stretching my arms straight and taut.  Debby’s arms were stretched tight, too.

I was David’s helpless captive; Debby was Mark’s.  Oh, please don’t let them be axe murderers.

David’s predatory eyes glanced at my defenceless breasts, pressing firmly outward against the silky fabric of my blouse.  My tingling nipples responded to being the feminine prey of his musky sexual interest.  They swelled, poking forward, straining to impress their obvious shape into the silk of my blouse.

He was looking at them.  Now sure as hell he knows I’m sexually excited by being in bondage.  Am I having fun?  My nipples say, ‘YES’.

David got down on his knees beside me as Mark did the same beside Debby.  I felt his strong grip pulling my ankle.  Debby was biting her lip, probably feeling Mark grip her ankle, too.  I looked down and watched David spread my leg out to the side and lock the floor-bolted chained cuff around it.  Then he crawled around behind me to spread my other leg and imprison my ankle on the other side.  I was starting to feel quite warm, and my pleated micro skirt flared open.  I could feel the cool air caressing my exposed slit.

Can he see my pussy?  Not yet, I guess.

Mark finished spreading and cuffing Debby’s legs.  Then they picked up the wide black leather collars lying on our plates and carefully closed them around Debby’s neck and mine.  My blood was pounding through my veins as I heard the steel jaws of the locks clack shut.  I felt the strange sensation of the tight, perfect fit of the collar’s grip around my throat.

Both men stood back and gazed happily at us; their silent mouths open and motionless.  Their deeper and faster breathing sent disturbing chills of suspicion down my spine and into my belly.