Dominance and Submission

[mc, mf, fd, md]

((There’s a funny story about this one. Author Kris P. Kreme wrote the beginning to it and challenged me to pick up from there. The part he wrote appears in italic early on. The rest is my take on the whole thing.))


The chilly winter air entered the small bookstore. The bell above the door jingled, the stranger standing stiffly, clutching the small carefully wrapped package in his hands.

He looked around, eyes dark, intense, focused. As Anna came rushing to the front desk, he smiled and stepped inside, allowing the door to swing shut. He approached the beautiful raven-haired woman, smiling a toothy grin. She was perfect, just as he’d been instructed.

“Hi there. Can I help you?” She asked, her voice holding a melody which could captivate any man.

But this wasn’t just any man. This was a man who went by only one name, a mysterious merchant from a far off land who had sought this lovely girl out in order to deliver a very special book.

The book was called Dominance and the man was named Bruno.

“This is for you.” He said. “It will help you understand what you are meant to be.”

Anna faced the stranger with a bewildered expression upon her face, her eyes glancing at the book title almost imperceptibly. She was about to say something in return when he produced a small business card with nothing else but a cell phone number on it.

“Please call me when you’re ready.” He concluded, and turned his back on her to swiftly go out into the open. Anna reacted just a second too late and, when she did, he was already gone, the card placed on top of the mysterious volume. Both items appeared to emanate a faint glow, like the visible residue of an incantation of old.

It is not hard to make an educated guess as to the nature of her thoughts at the moment: Who was that man? What exactly did he mean with those strange words? And why was she feeling a sudden shift in the air pressure all around? It wasn’t a foreboding, repressing atmosphere, but the density of it all was certainly different, almost as if two or more parallel dimensions were now competing for the same section of Space and Time. Anna held the card in one hand, the book in the other and focused on the engraved golden letters that comprised the title.

Dominance . She liked the sound of that word, the way the combination of syllables made her tongue swirl. The book looked old, yet if felt like new, a concatenation of primeval feelings under the guise of something adequate for 21st century use. Anna had no idea why she was losing herself in such bizarre cogitations, and rapidly made an effort to expel them from her mind.

It didn’t work. The more she looked at the book, the more it exerted its uncanny fascination. There were no descriptions of its content anywhere on the cover or the back cover, and so she wondered: was it a novel; an erotic poetry tome; a lost philosophical treaty? Perhaps it was all of those things or simply an assortment of white pages for an elaborate joke… May be she should open it, just a little…

Gently, she passed her right index finger on the binding, and something stirred. Blue phosphorescence crept along her trimmed fingernail and lingered there, waiting for a taste. Anna’s lips trembled, but she didn’t notice it. Instead, she focused only on the emergent impression of power that made the title seem perfectly adequate.

“What is Dominance?” she thought. “What does it really mean?”

“Dominance is Anna.” The book hummed in her ears.

“I don’t understand…” Her hands slid across the cover, getting ready to open the volume.

“Dominance is Grace.”

“Grace…? As in something blessed, holy?” She asked as the pages opened wide in front of her. The characters within them were moving, creating a spiraling vortex of lust.

“Dominance is Everything!”

As she read each line with utmost care, she realized that she was being read, too.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Bruno woke up in a hotel bedroom from a dream he dared not remember. His head throbbed and something was definitely amiss. He had no idea of where he was, how he had gotten there or what he had been doing over the last week or so. In fact, his earliest recollection dated back from a trip he had made to a market in Nottingham, where he had purchased two books that were unlike any others he had ever seen.

One of them was inside the ruffled bag that always went with him on his travels. As for the other….

An image of a beautiful woman appeared in the mirror in front of him. He had seen her before, countless times even, though he believed her to be nothing more than a figment of imagination, an idealized version of the happiness he sought.

However, that image was impregnated with the prominence of remembrance …. It was a memory rather than a delusion, breaking the barriers of life. He saw himself next to her, presenting the other book with an overconfident leer.

“Why did I…?”

The trail of thoughts that was about to form was interrupted by the melodic ring of his cell phone. There was nothing familiar about the number, but he answered the call nonetheless only to hear a domineering figure exclaim:

“Come to the bookstore in twenty minutes! Don’t keep me waiting!”

The call went dead immediately afterwards. In the mirror, he saw a sketchy map of the path he was supposed to follow and his head throbbed even more, triggering yet another flood of reminiscences, a series of shadows projected against the wall of a Platonic cave.

The call of fate was too powerful to be ignored and he acted in accordance with it. He left than a less minute later, taking his bag with him. Something of an indiscernible nature was telling him he was going to need it.

* * *

The sign at the entrance said “Closed”, yet he knew the door was open for him. Inside, everything was enshrouded in semi-obscurity with a single lamp above him flickering at regular intervals. Bruno approached the counter where he saw the twin of the tome he was carrying, the ink on most of its pages slightly faded out now that its primary purpose had been fulfilled. Next to it was his card. It smelled of flowers and something far more visceral… the redolence of unbridled sex drive wasn’t easily mistakable for anything else and it was clearly on the loose, there.

“You’re two minutes late!” Anna said from behind him, the tone stating her obvious discontentment.

Bruno turned around to face her, and saw a Goddess in rubber, the purple and black corset dress clinging to her body like a voluptuous second skin, the latex opera gloves glistening, and the knee-high boots completing the seductive outfit of someone who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to do what it took to get it.

“And you’re still standing….” She continued with a smirk. “Surely, you don’t plan to disrespect me for much longer, do you?”

“Miss, you’re going to find this strange, I’m sure, but I have absolutely no i-“

She interrupted him, hastily.

“The name is Anna, though Mistress or Queen will do just fine! Remember your place and salute my magnificence by kissing my boots!”

“That’s not going to happen!” Bruno retorted. In return, Anna gave him a taste of her pointy boots, and it hurt and made him gasp for breath. She pulled him by the hair with one hand, slapped his cheeks with the other, and proceeded to do her worst to use him as a rug. The bag fell from his hands as he hit the ground.

“Wrong answer, when this is what you wanted all along, pet!” Her stern voice cracked as wicked heel began playing painful games on his crotch.

Was it, really? Bruno now had serious doubts about it, despite the fact that he definitely liked the way she looked. It was as if he had been caught in a random wet dream, as if the beginning of this particular story had been written by somebody else, and he was just a lost character trying to survive its mind manipulations.

He tried to get up, but Anna blocked his way with expertise, placing both knees on his chest to pin him down. She was stronger than she appeared to be, her physical prowess no doubt also heightened by the same paranormal influence that had changed her mind. A latex-gloved hand forcefully covered his mouth, whilst the other travelled downwards, using erotic stimulation to render helpless his attempts at struggle.

“Why are you trying to deny what’s rightfully mine?” she asked, wickedly. “If it’s punishment you want, I’ll be sure to give you plenty until you learn to do things the only way you’re meant to.”

Bruno looked up, at the corseted beauty that now grinned like an Amazon riding her trusty steed. Her naughty hand was hitting all the right spots quite effortlessly and the muffled screams were already beginning to turn into glorious hymns of capitulation.

“Dominance is Everything! Accept my power over you willingly and you shall know immeasurable bliss for as long as we both shall live.” She freed his mouth and hit him with the impact of her penetrating gaze. “Just say the words I want to hear: say you’re nothing but a humble slave boy!”

“I can’t… I won’t!” he spat. “Please, you’re not in your right frame of mind!”

“You’re wrong. I am perfectly aware, my eyes are wide open. The book showed me everything I had been missing. It told me exactly what I am supposed to be, and it told me that what we have here will only truly begin with an act of subservience! Play your role!”

“This is my role!” Bruno screamed as he made a final effort to shove her away. The sudden shift made her briefly lose her position, enough for him to reach for his bag and whirl it like an Olympic light weight. The bag was old and its seams had already passed the point of reliability, the fabric nearly disintegrating on his hands. With a loud thump, the other book he had acquired in his travels fell to the ground.

In thick, grey letters, one could read: Submission.

Exactly the same way it had happened before, Anna glanced at it, unwillingly. Whether it was just a second, a fraction of one, or even a fraction of a fraction, it’s totally irrelevant. What matters is that, despite all the transformations her psyche had already underwent, there was plenty of room for new desires to grow. Sensing her sudden loss of confidence, Bruno grabbed the book without looking straight at it, and opened it in a perfectly indiscriminate page.

The outburst of energy that irrupted from inside it sent them both flying. He hit his head on the front door and only a miracle kept him from fainting on the spot. As for Anna, she found herself encapsulated in a hoary bubble that defied gravity, the magical volume inside it, slithering like a snake through every inch of her body.

Whatever the spells that had been unleashed, they were like an overriding wave that wanted everything of her, and not just a selection of thought patterns.

Even from a reasonable distance, Bruno could feel the hunger of the ravenous tome, the opposite forces of control and compliance clashing against each other, and draining themselves out. Impressions of restless fingers, avid tongues and pulsating genitals filled his mind, yet he was sure she was experiencing much more, not just the imagery but the physical manifestation of it all, as she writhed orgasmically in the air. A series of frantic moans was the last thing he heard before the lightheadedness claimed his spirit and he collapsed.

* * *

There was no magic left when he came around. The two books were now as ordinary as any other volume inside the premises, and he was still himself.

She, on other hand, had turned into something else, the final stage of an evolutionary process of complete thralldom. Like an avatar of unreadable expression floating through pages of cyberspace, Anna was now perfectly still, silent, and naked. Her white-washed eyes were locked on him, even though he wasn’t sure they could actually see anything and her once vibrant skin was now a reflection of emaciated dreariness. The luscious red lips were the only hint of real color left in her.

“What are you, now?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Whatever you wish me to be….” She cooed as she knelt and crawled towards his manhood to sate her submissive urges.

Strangely enough, this time around he didn’t protest.

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