Submissive Hopes

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

This is my first attempt at a story. Apologies in advance!

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Chapter 1

I had been scared for such a long time dreaming about the day I would finally be turned into a dirty slut for a man. The needs that filled my mind to serve and caused me to lust after cock and cum, would go away for short periods, but never leave. Inevitably, I would be back watching porn, watching men with big cocks use submissive, begging sluts who would do anything for them.

Although this desire was constant, it had never been truly fulfilled. Several times I had went, worriedly, to hook-up with a guy from an online site wondering if this would be the day I would become a total slut. And although I ended up sucking cock or perhaps licking his ass, it would end quickly with his cum pouring down my throat and both of us trying to go our separate ways as fast as possible.

Last night something different began. I posted an ad on a chat site, as I have done many times, got several responses. One in particular stood out and I responded quickly to him. He was older, very dominant and used the kind of language in his reply that immediately made me interested. I read his words a few times, just several sentences, but enough to get my cock hard and leaking.

What did he write to me? It was just this. "I'm an older dominant male and get what I want. I will use you boi, you mouth and ass as a pussy for my cock. You will respond right now or I will include punishment beyond what you already will receive." This was exactly what I wanted from a man. It made me think that he would take me for his pleasure and push passed any limit I had - or thought I had. And this is what I wanted every time I thought of cock. A man that would make me do the dirtiest things without any thought for me.

Now the normal part of me fought this thinking and feeling. When I wasn't horny, I didn't want any of these things. I KNEW these were very bad things to want in general and that my entire life could be upset forever by giving in to them. I knew how dangerous these feelings were. But I also knew that I would give in to them eventually. If not with this man, then certainly with another at some other time. The part of me that wanted to serve a man so badly and be his sexual deviant had a subconscious control that no logic, no good intentions, could completely overcome.

I wrote back shortly after receiving his first email. "Thank you for responding to my ad Sir. I am eager to be a submissive slut for a dominant older man. There is nothing I would love more Sir. I am would love to prove what a good boi I can be for you. Please tell me what you would like to do from here Sir. I am centrally located and can travel anywhere nearby. Thank you."

I hoped that would intrigue him or interest him enough to follow up. Sometimes a guy would write back. Sometimes not. The problem with hooking up with a guy online is that most of us are in the same situation. We carry our regular lives on the outside which make it almost impossible to let our inner selves have a chance to come out. We have wives and girlfriends who don't know, friends and family we NEVER want to know about our sexual dreams, as well as coworkers that would think horrible things if they ever found out what we dreamed of doing. So in the end, most guys WANT to hook up, but rarely ever do.

Would this one be different I wondered? Maybe. It has happened, as I have said. I've had a few encounters, most of which were in and out without much more than a cock, a mouth and some cum. A few others were a little more memorable. The former encounters helped convince me that I would never do it again. The latter made SURE that I would keep at it. At least, until the right man finally turned me into the dirty slut I so desperately wanted to be.

After writing back I waited for his response. It didn't take long, maybe a few minutes. He told me that he was pleased at the quickness of my email and he needed a boi like me. He instructed me to attach some pictures so he might inspect his plaything. He said he was looking to get together and didn't waste time when he found something he liked.

His email ignited every submissive part of my mind. He was already taking control and telling me what to do. He intended to push me to meet with him right away (always a good idea because the chances of meeting went way down if I ended up masturbating and putting it off). He also made sure I would send him something to prove I was really interested.

I wrote back to him, attaching several pictures. At this point I was hopeful and scared. I was always scared honestly. Scared that we might meet. Scared that we might now. Scared that he would write again to me. Scared that he wouldn't. Every part of me wanted to be on my knees already worshipping him while at the same time, every part of me wanted him to never contact me again. This was always the issue. I wanted both things so much it was impossible to say which would win out. Both had in the past and the future was still yet to be decided.

My body vibrated a little when I saw he wrote again. I clicked on the email, eager to learn what he thought and what he would next require. Scared to find out if he would, in fact, get me to meet with him and make me his cock sucking faggot. The email opened up and I soaked it in.

"I like your pictures lil bitch. It will be a pleasure opening your holes up and filling them both with my cock and cum. I haven't had a slut over in a couple weeks so you will be perfect to drain my balls. I don't like to play games. Well not these kinds of games at least. So here is what will happen next.

You will email me and agree to my terms. You will meet me at the time we agree upon. You will be completely mine to use for as long as you are here with me. I will do whatever I want with you. I promise that you won't be permanently marked or harmed. This will be only between us (for now) and that if you have any real limits, you will include them in your next email agreeing to meet me.

I want a fucking whore. So if that is what you really want, write me now. Tell me you agree. Tell me if you have any limits. Tell me EXACTLY when you are available for at least 4 hours. Tell me that other than the limits you note, you agree that I can do ANYTHING I want to you. I will wait 15 minutes for you. If you haven't written me back by then, I will move on. You might just be a flake, but hopefully you aren't. If you really want to be a whore, write me now faggot."

It had been a long time since a man had made me his cock sucker. I was very horny which made me more eager and willing. This man seemed to know the best ways to motivate and convince me to turn myself over to his control. My rock hard cock compelled me further and I wrote back, ready to serve. I didn't say anything other than I was ready to be his whore I didn't place any limits which I should have. I didn't tell him I was busy that day which I should have. I just agreed to anything he wanted and would wait for his direction.

Ten minutes later, his email arrived. I read it, prepared to follow it to the letter. It was simple. It gave me his address, instructions what to do when I get there, and an order to tell him how long it would take me to get there. He expected my reply right away and then to leave within five minutes after that. I hesitated at this point.

Is this really what I wanted. A part of me of course did. But the part of me that worried that this might forever change my life, still questioned. Maybe he would blackmail me or go beyond what I was willing to do. I didn't email any limits to him, but I had some. There were things that I couldn't do or at least told myself that. I didn't want my life to change because of this, but a part of me knew it might. The parts that warned me that this was a bad idea, the part of me that knew better, lost. I emailed him back.

I had put in his address and got directions and how long it would take me to get there. I added a few minutes to this just to be safe. I gave him the time, indicated that I understood what I was to do when I got to his home, and told him I was ready to leave in 5 minutes. I sent the email.

I got up, grabbed my stuff, hurrying so I didn't waste time and arrive late. I checked my email a final time and read his response. He said he expected me to do what I was told, arrive by the time I said or serious punishment would be occur. He told me not to respond and to leave. If I failed to arrive within 15 minutes of the time I should just leave. This would be my only chance.

The entire drive there I questiond if I was really doing this. I kept telling myself to turn around. I didn't. I kept saying I didn't have to actually go and could just drive by. I knew I wouldn't do that either. I wanted to believe I wasn't going to do this. The part of me that had made me respond in the first place, knew that there was only place in the world I wanted to be right then. And nothing was going to stop this.

Chapter 2

I found his street and turned onto it. I found his address. It was at a mid-size home, with a long driveway. It was isolated enough so no chance neighbors would ever know anything deviant was going on inside. Also far enough that I wouldn't be able to call for any help. For one last second, I told myself to keep going, and then turned down his driveway. I drove to the end of the driveway and parked around the left side of the house, pulling around so that my car would not be visible from the road.

I left my id, phone, and keys in the car as instructed. I got out of the car and looked around. The house was isolated from the neighbors by large trees on both sides. The back yard extended into woods. Nothing was going to save me from this choice. I didn't want anything to - even if a part still hoped something would happen to stop all this.

I took off my shoes and pants and shirt and put them in my car. He told me to wear nothing but my underwear and walk to his back door. The screen door would be unlocked and the door left open. I was to enter, naked but for my underwear, and open the package on the kitchen table that was left for me.

It was such an ordinary house. Table, chairs, appliances, curtains. Nothing seemed out of place. I walked to the table and opened the packed all the time being aware that I was standing in a strangers house, with no clothes on, and with no idea of what was to happen to me. Inside the package was a collar and leash, a pair of hand cuffs, a pair of women's panties and a note.

The note said:

"Welcome whore. Remove your underwear and put on your panties. This is the only type of undergarment you will ever be allowed to wear from now on. Put on your collar and leash. Hand cuff one of your wrists. Once you have done this, you have agreed to EVERYTHING that we have discussed. This is the very last chance for you to leave.

Once you have on your leash and handcuff, walk into the room through the open doorway to your left, get on your knees with your head and eyes down looking at the floor. You will put your hands behind your back. You will stay in this position until you are given an instruction to move. This may be a minute or an hour or more.

From this point on, you will no longer have any say in what happens."

I didn't even consider not doing what it said. I hurried to put on the panties, then slipped on the collar and leash. I attached the handcuff to my left wrist and moved through the door. It was a living room or recreation room from what I could see. A couple couches, television, just regular furniture. I sank to my knees a few steps in to the room, positioned my head and eyes looking at the floor, and put my arms behind me. They were heavy with the weight of the handcuffs, a sturdy steel pair that somehow let the one wearing them that there was no chance of escape.

I was excited, scared, eager, ready. My cock was hard from all the thoughts of what might happen to me. My body hummed. I don't know how long I sat like that, but it seemed like hours. Then suddenly I began to hear noise from somewhere else in the house. It was coming from the direction of the kitchen and sounded like a door opening and closing. Then I could hear foot steps too, getting closer. Then they were right behind me.

Then laughter. It wasn't someone laughing from humor. It was a satisfied almost diabolical laugh. Strong hands grabbed my arms and close the other handcuff on my other wrist. He pulled at my arms, enough to hurt. I groaned a little, not meaning to fight back, but pulling away at the surprise pain. Behind me, the guy grunted in frustration by my reaction and pulled harder at my arms, causing even more pain.

"Stop moving boy." said a deep gravelly voice. He grabbed my leash, and pushed me to the floor.

I couldn't see anything with my face pushed into the rug. He stepped from behind me, shoving a boot into my face, his hand on my neck keeping me from moving.

"You belong here. Your place is at my feet. Until I say otherwise, you are my whore. Now kiss my boot, boy. Kiss and grovel at my feet." he gave his laugh again.

"You will never speak, boy, unless told to. If you do, you'll regret it. I know what little cunts like you need. The only thing you want is to serve a man and be his true bitch. Everyone thinks you are a man, but you and I know the truth."

As he said this I kissed his boot, a rough black sort of work boot. I kissed it, loving and hating it at the same time. He kept my face down for a few minutes while he made me prove how much I loved groveling, one boot and then the other.

He grabbed at my leash and pulled me up, hard. It choked me as air was restricted and my head and eyes were lifted to finally see his face.

He was older, maybe his mid-fifties, with greying short hair. He had no signs of balding and strong demanding face. He was clean shaved and had a set of deep, dark black eyes. He sneered at me, holding my face up so I could see him.

"You are a pathetic slut. I will make sure at some point that you regret coming here. It's already too late for you, but you won't really know it until then. You still think you had a choice in coming here and that you have in coming back. You needed me and now your life will have meaning. Say it boy. I want to hear you say, your life has meaning now that you have found me." he said, almost angry with me for being there.

I was still eager and horny and not really registering everything he was saying. I KNEW what he was saying, but it wasn't anything real. In my head, it was just another part of the daily fantasies I had been living in for the last decade. Every part of me was now committed to this moment.

"Sir please. Please sir. Nothing is important but serving you sir. My only reason is to be yours and to please you! This is the life I need sir. This is the only thing I was ever meant to do Sir! This is my only purpose Sir!" I said and meant every word. I wanted to suck his cock, drink his cum and be used by him more than anything. My cock got harder as I said the words, feeling their truth.

"Enough". he said.

He pulled my face to his crotch, forced me into feeling his cock beneath his pants. It was partially hard already and I could feel it stiffening.

"Take it out bitch. Get my cock out now." He commanded.

I started to ask how and a sharp slap struck my face. "Last warning cunt. NEVER speak unless ordered. Take out my cock now bitch!" he growled and slapped me hard again.

He shoved my face back into his crotch, on my knees with arms handcuffed behind my back. I used my teeth to grab hold of the zipper and to pull it down. He continued to grind my face, growling and telling me to hurry up cunt and get that cock out.

I moved up and undid the button hold his pants with my mouth and tongue. My arms were hurting from his postion and my kneed ached. But the pain made me want to serve him even more. Being so horny, my brain was excited as much by the pain as the pleasure I was feeling.

He slapped my face on both sides, the pain bringing it to life, as I worked his underwear down. His cocked leapt outward, hard and ready for a cunt. He swiveled his hips and beat my face with his large thick 8" cock as he held my unmoving head with the leash.

"This is why you came you stupid cunt. This is the reason you have agreed to be my fuckslut. From now, THIS is going to rule your life!" he yelled into my ear.

I barely heard what he said, struggling to get his cock into my mouth. I WANTED to be his fuckslut so bad right now. I WANTED to be this dirty cunt. In that moment, the only thing I wanted was to be exactly what he said. The part of me that was still struggling tried to still assert some part of me to fight back, but was overwhelmed. This man and his cock, this demanding powerful man deserved a whore. And I was a whore who needed a man.

End of Part 1