The Ultimate Submission (Jacqueline's Story)
By Gato Medio

Chapter 15

[Compelling Desires]

The successful launch of Ramon's collection was one of
the happiest periods of my life. I was pleased to see
Ramon get the deserved recognition for his talent and
hard work. I was pleased that I had been able to offer
him Lola for a memorable night _á trois_ and I was
looking forward to the promised rematch in Berlin.

I'll admit freely that part of my happiness came from
basking in Ramon's reflected glory. More pictures of me
appeared in the papers, particularly one taken when Ramon
had offered his thanks to me and I had joined him on the
runway, dressed only in lingerie designed by him. Casual
acquaintances at the university and even some people I
had never met before approached me when they recognized
me. They expressed admiration because of my courage and
good looks and wanted to know about my relationship with
the now famous fashion designer. Even my roommate Arlette
changed her 'I'm not talking to you' stance and started
to become friendly again.

These demonstrations of sympathy and approval by friends
and complete strangers helped me overcome the bitterness
I felt about the expulsion from my parental home. My
mother had phoned me secretly - disobeying my father's
express prohibition to speak to me - to tell me how upset
my father had been about seeing my picture in the media.
He had declared that I was no longer his daughter and
wasn't allowed to set foot in his house ever again. He
was going to remove all traces of my existence and donate
the things I had left in my room to a charitable
organisation - provided they accepted a slut's
possessions. My mother suggested that I come to Villiers
while my father was at work and retrieve whatever I
wanted to keep.

I refused to return to my former home like a thief in the
night and decided to write off as lost whatever had been
left there. Although I felt unhappy about this outcome, I
also felt relieved that the conflict had come out into
the open and I no longer needed to worry about hiding the
real me from my father. Comments I received from Sylvie
and Mirabelle indicated that not all of Villiers was
condemning me. The local papers seemed to find it quite
remarkable that a girl from Villiers-sur-Seine had made
it onto the front pages of the national press.

In spite of my happiness, there was something gnawing
inside me which I couldn't quite explain. It was a desire
to raise my devotion to Ramon to a higher level. The
feeling was not new, it had been with me almost from the
day I met Ramon, but it came back more and more often and
with greater urgency: I wanted Ramon to own me, to accept
and use me as his possession.

During one of our visits to _Le Chambre Séparée_ I had
steered Ramon to the bondage corner. I told him how
curious I was about the various contraptions and
implements available and suggested he try out some of
them on me. Reluctantly and with the help of a fierce-
looking expert he had tied me into a frame where my body
was practically doubled up with my legs spread wide and
my hands near my ankles.

The position this left me in was similar to that of a
person in an old-fashioned pillory. But in this modern
version of the stocks - all shiny chrome and black
leather - the victim was suspended in mid-air. My bottom
was sticking out, inviting to be spanked or whipped. The
frame was set inside a series of wheels which allowed the
master to move his victim around, even flip her over, and
make her bottom and pussy accessible at every possible
angle.

I thought this was a wonderful toy and suggested that
Ramon should have one installed in his apartment. The
bondage expert pointed out that the victim could also be
blindfolded and subjected to punishment and abuse without
knowing who the aggressor was. All three orifices were
freely available for use.

Even though Ramon did not share my enthusiasm for the
gadget, the castigator handed him his card 'in case he
needed some help with training his slave.'

Ramon did not show any interest in taking up the offer
for help, but accepted the card and put it in his pocket.
Later, I used his absence to retrieve the card and copy
the address and phone number on a slip of paper. On the
card it said: 'Marquis de Sade, Consultant in Education
and Discipline'. This was obviously not the man's real
name, but a blunt hint at the kind of service he offered.
I waited a couple of weeks and when Ramon had not taken
any initiative, I contacted the 'Marquis' myself and made
an appointment.

The address was in a part of Paris I had never been to. I
had to ask several times to find the house which had no
number or name sign. When I rang the bell, two men let me
into a small, dimly-lit room where they conducted a
thorough body search to make sure I didn't have any
hidden tape recorder, camera or microphone on me. Then
they lead me into a larger room where the man I had seen
at _Le Chambre Séparée_ was sitting behind a massive
desk. There wasn't any place for me to sit.

The 'Marquis' was not at all pleased when he found out
that I had come on my own.

"When you phoned I assumed that you did so on your
master's instructions, but now it seems you contacted me
on your own whim," he growled.

I explained that my partner didn't actually consider
himself my master and hadn't shown any interest in taking
ownership of me. I, on the other hand, wanted to be
disciplined and I was looking for advice on how to get
him to use and punish me.

My desire to submit to a master pleased the man. His
manner became slightly more amenable, but he explained to
me that it wasn't possible to train a slave on her own.
The master had to give permission and specify his exact
requirements.

"We train slaves on the specific request of their
masters. We also provide opportunities for masters to
exchange ideas and experiences. A slave cannot be trained
without a master, or without the master's active
participation. The master decides how strict the training
will be, how much pain the slave will experience, how
much abuse and humiliation she will suffer."

This explanation terminated my visit as far as the man
was concerned. He called his assistants to accompany me
to the door.

I wasn't going to give up so soon. "Can't you at least
tell me what's involved in the training? Can't you test
me to see if I'm suitable?"

The man looked at me. His eyes seemed to pass straight
through me. Was he going to insult me? Was he going to
tell me to leave before he lost his temper about my
insistence, about my wasting his time?

He sighed. "What your training will involve depends on
your master's decision. There's no way I can tell you
what he'll want us to do to you."

After a short pause, the man suddenly said, "Take off
your clothes, quick!"

The tone of his voice didn't allow any hesitation.
Luckily, I wasn't wearing anything under my dress. I just
had to undo the zipper in the back and let the dress
slide down to the floor. Then I removed my sandals and
stood naked in front of him.

"Spread your legs, show me your cunt!"

I did as he had ordered, pulling my pussy lips open to
let him have a clear look at my clit and vagina. Without
warning he pushed a finger inside me. I couldn't help
gasping at this unexpected touch.

"I didn't give you permission to react," he barked. "But
at least you're wet. That's a good sign."

This remark pleased me. It felt like getting an A at
school.

"Now your ass."

I turned around, leant forward and pulled my cheeks apart
with both hands. I tried to relax my hole to show him
that my ass was ready and willing. Again, he pushed a
finger inside me. I almost lost my balance, but managed
to suppress any sound.

"You seem to be a quick learner."

This pleased me even more than his first praise.

"Bend down, hold on to your ankles."

I saw a cane in his hand. There was a swishing noise as
the cane moved rapidly through the air. I screamed as it
bit into my bottom. He didn't give me any time to
recover. A quick succession of blows rained down on my
bottom and the back of my thighs. The whole punishment
probably took less than a minute, but when he stopped
hitting me I was sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming
down my face.

"You may stand upright." He handed me paper tissues to
dry my tears.

"You have a lot to learn. But you show some promise. The
punishment I gave you was only a small foretaste of what
you will go through if you decide to persevere with your
wish. Think about it carefully. Talk about it with your
master. He is the only person to whom you may mention
this conversation. If he wants you to be trained as his
slave, and if you agree, then come back to me."

My bottom and the back of my thighs hurt when I put my
dress back on and left. I was pleased with the man's
comments about my suitability and frightened thinking
about the pain which might be involved. But the main
problem hadn't gone away: I still needed to find a way of
convincing Ramon that he wanted to train me as his slave,
that I needed the discipline of a firm hand.

Ramon had not reacted to my repeated declarations that I
belonged to him. He treated me as an independent woman
who had the right to decide what she wanted to do. I
expected him to tell me, to order me, but he merely
suggested. He never asked me what I got up to during the
week. But what may seem to be lack of interest in me was
merely the reflection of his deep respect for women,
particularly beautiful women.

As far as Ramon was concerned, I was his when we were
together, but a free individual when we were apart. He
only took control when we made love. But even then I felt
that he was constantly checking my reaction, concerned
not to do anything that would hurt or otherwise displease
me. When he fucked me hard and fast, it was because I
begged for it, not because he had decided to use me that
way.

I'm sure he would never have forced me against my will to
take his cock in my rear - and in a way I was grateful to
him for that. I had taken it upon myself to get my ass
ready for his big cock. I would have loved it if he had
ordered me to do so.

I had decided by myself to appear near-naked at the
cocktail party and on other occasions, and only wearing
underwear during the fashion show. Maybe he didn't want
me to expose myself like this to the public at large? Had
I been presumptuous, attracting so much attention to
myself on his big event? I would have loved it if he had
told me how much or how little he wanted me to wear on
these occasions and would have followed his instructions
to the letter. I wanted him to lay down the law and
punish me mercilessly in case I didn't obey.

I felt that I couldn't handle the freedom he gave me. I
was in danger of letting my 'insatiable horniness', as
Charlotte had called it, take control, of pursuing my own
sexual gratification. Even when my actions had the
declared purpose of pleasing Ramon, I knew deep down
inside that I was mainly satisfying my own lust.

The 'anal training' sessions with Roxy had given rise to
some of the wildest sex I ever experienced. I enjoyed it
so much that I accepted the ensuing punishment without
much trepidation. And how much of my eagerness to be able
to offer Ramon my ass had been driven by the desire to
feel three cocks inside me at the same time?

I was in serious danger of getting out of control. I
wanted Ramon to put me on a leash, keep me on a short
rein. Otherwise my rampant sex drive might make me
overstep the mark. I was worried that I might offend or
hurt Ramon with my wayward behaviour - if I hadn't
already done so. The big problem was to make him
understand that I needed him to take control of me.

How could I get Ramon to the point where he'd want to
punish me? Should I do something that would make him
angry about me? But what? Refuse to have sex with him?
Impossible! As soon as I came near him, I wanted nothing
more than offer my body to his hands, his mouth, his
cock; let him fuck me whichever way he pleased. I
wouldn't be able to refuse him anything.

Roxy knew that she would be disciplined whenever she
committed a punishable offence. Although it seemed that
Michel made up the rules about what was punishable as he
went along, punishment usually came after Roxy had sex
with a guest or a maid.

Roxy didn't consider herself a slave. She simply accepted
the role of the wife in an old-fashioned marriage and
Michel exercised his right of sole ownership and
sentenced her to whatever castigation he considered
appropriate. If that resulted in his wife appearing naked
in front of servants or visitors, so be it. And Roxy
enjoyed exposing herself and loved the wild sex that
usually followed a punishment.

Should I tell Ramon about my sexual adventures, my nights
with Caroline, for example? If Michel punished Roxy - and
me - whenever I had sex with her, wouldn't Ramon have
reason to punish me - and possibly Caroline - for the
passionate sex I enjoyed in her bed?

What if I confessed that I had been unfaithful to him,
that I had had sex with another woman without his
knowledge or approval? My guess was that he would
probably forgive me. Or say that I was an independent
person, that my desire to try out different things was
only natural, and as he didn't have a pussy I could lick,
it was logical that I would find a woman who was willing
to oblige.

What if someone else denounced me and told him that I
needed to be disciplined, otherwise I would get out of
hand?

Who could this someone else be? Could I get Michel to
have a word with Ramon, from man to man, from practicing
disciplinarian to not yet practicing castigator? I was
worried that Ramon would regard such advice as unwanted
interference by Michel. Ramon might say that he prefers
to cure me with love and understanding rather than by
spanking my bare bottom.

What if the denunciation came from a woman? Would
Caroline, my fellow offender, be willing to confess to
Ramon? And possibly risk to be punished as well? I
remembered that Caroline had told me about playing 'slave
for a day' games with Billy. This was a lot less than
what I wanted for myself, but she might be able to give
me some advice.

Ramon had clearly enjoyed the threesome with Lola. Should
I serve him by bringing him other women he could fuck?
Caroline would be a possible candidate. I was sure that
Ramon would enjoy making love to this beautiful woman
with the never-ending legs. I was also convinced that
Caroline would jump at the opportunity to experience for
herself what it's like to be fucked by Ramon. Should I
arrange another threesome? I was even willing to let
Ramon fuck Caroline on his own if it should turn out that
that was what he wanted.

But was Caroline keen enough on such an encounter to risk
being punished for our escapades? My idea was to let her
tell Ramon about our weekly get-togethers, maybe also
denounce me for my other trespasses. And let her declare
that I needed firm control for my own good. It seemed
risky but possible. I decided to talk to Caroline as soon
as I had a chance.

                         -----

My weekly visits to Caroline's apartment, usually on
Wednesdays, had become a permanent feature of my
timetable. We would enjoy a light meal together and then
feast our eyes, hands and mouths on each other's body.

Caroline had embarked on an active sex life, just as she
had said she would during our first night together, but
she always kept Wednesday night free for me. I had
managed to arrange my schedule so that I didn't have any
commitments on Thursday morning. More often than not, I
would laze a little longer in bed after Caroline left for
work; then I would shower and enjoy the breakfast
Caroline left ready for me in the kitchen.

Caroline knew about my relationship with Ramon, of
course. The poster on which I was wearing lingerie
designed by him had been the reason for our first
encounter. I had told Caroline how much I adored him, how
his touch made me tingle all over, how much I enjoyed it
when he made love to me. But I had never gone into any
details about the kind of things Ramon and I got up to
when we were together.

Caroline had turned into one of Ramon's most faithful
customers. She was constantly scouring the shops for his
creations and most weeks she would welcome me wearing her
latest purchase. I was in the enviable position of first
admiring this most beautiful of women in her sexy attire
and then being allowed to remove the ethereal garments to
reveal her curvaceous body.

                         -----

Our evening together had only just started. We had
undressed each other without haste, the way gourmets
approach a meal they know they are going to enjoy.
Caroline's gentle hands had caressed my breasts ever so
lightly, brushing over my nipples. She had kissed my
lips; her tongue had invaded my mouth while her hands had
roamed over my neck, my back, my bottom.

I thought the time was right to present my dilemma and a
possible solution to Caroline. I started by asking her
casually whether she would like to meet Ramon. Her answer
was emphatic. "I thought you'd never ask."

Caroline had seen the famous picture of Ramon leaving the
launch party framed between two semi-nudes, and had
commented on his good looks. She had also asked who the
other women on the photo was and I had told her a little
about Lola and what the three of us got up to the night
that picture had been taken. Quite possibly, Caroline was
already hoping for a similar experience, but if that
thought hadn't yet invaded her brain, I was going to make
sure that it would turn into an obsession before the
night was over.

Explaining to her what I wanted, what I felt I needed,
turned out to be more difficult than I had expected.

"What do you mean, 'be his slave'? This is the twenty-
first century. Slavery belongs in the dark ages. Luckily
it has been abolished a long time ago - at least
officially.

"What do you mean 'share you with whoever he wants to'?
Do want him to be your pimp?"

She clearly thought I had taken leave of my senses.

However, she could relate to my wish to let Ramon do with
me what he wants, because that urge had been present in
her relationship with Billy. I could demonstrate to her
that my desire was just an extension of this concept. If
Ramon could do whatever he wants with me, then he was my
owner. If he was my owner, then I was his slave and he
could share me with others if this pleased him.

Caroline shook her head. "I never thought you were the
submissive type. That's not how you come across to me. I
always thought of you as an independent, liberated woman
who does pretty much what she wants - modern rather than
medieval."

"What makes you think I'm independent, liberated, modern
rather than medieval?" I asked, making a point of
repeating the words she had just used.

"Well, let's take us for example. Does Ramon know and
approve of our weekly get-together?"

"That's exactly the point. He doesn't know and he never
asks what I get up to when I'm not with him. He seems to
think what I do when I'm not with him is none of his
business. He makes it too easy to betray his trust. I'm
worried that having too much freedom may lead me astray."

I wanted to make sure Caroline understood what exactly I
expected from Ramon. "It doesn't have to be that way. I
have a friend who gets a good spanking whenever she has
sex with another woman," I explained.

Caroline grew apprehensive. "You mean you want him to
punish you for seeing me? Wouldn't that spell the end of
or weekly get-together?"

"Not necessarily. My friend gets punished regularly, but
it doesn't stop her doing it," I said with a defiant
smile.

"How do you know all this? Has she told you?" Caroline
wanted to know.

"Not only did she tell me, I saw it happening. In fact,
Ramon was there when I witnessed her punishment for the
first time."

"For the first time? You mean you've seen it more than
once?"

"I have indeed, and I got spanked as well for my part in
her offences."

"And the other times Ramon was not present?" Caroline
sounded a bit like a detective unravelling a murder
mystery.

I told her the story about my birthday present to Ramon:
how I had asked Roxy for advice, how she had put me
through her 'anal training' course, how I had licked her
pussy in return and how Michel had punished both of us
for our transgressions - but I was careful not to mention
any names. I also talked about Marie's involvement in my
training, my visit to the sex shop and the events at
Ramon's birthday party.

My account left Caroline open-mouthed, not knowing what
to say.

Finally, I told her how I had 'paid' for our visit to _Le
Chambre Séparée_ by letting Michel spank and belt my
bottom.

"It seems that my friend had been well-behaved that day,
because she was fully dressed and wasn't due to receive
any punishment. But she undressed in sympathy with me and
held me tight when her husband marked my bottom with his
belt, making sure that I wouldn't try to wriggle away and
expose the tender parts of my body to his fury.

"Later, when I lay on the carpeted floor, sobbing
uncontrollably, when the heat had moved from my bottom to
my pussy and I begged the husband to fuck me, my friend
had guided his cock into my sopping wet pussy and kissed
my tears away as her husband pounded into me, giving me
instant relief."

This story left Caroline even more aghast. "God, you're a
real slut," she said eventually.

I didn't like the way she pronounced this word. It hurt a
lot more than when my father used it.

"Do you realize what you've done? How could you get
another man to fuck you behind Ramon's back? It doesn't
matter whether that man's wife was present or not. What
matters is that you have betrayed Ramon's trust. You say
you consider yourself Ramon's property and yet you lick,
suck and fuck everything that crosses your path."

I was astonished how forcefully she expressed her
opinion.

"Don't get me wrong. I don't want to sound like a
moralist. Hell, during the last six months I've probably
slept with more men than you've had in your entire life.
But in my case it's always clear that I'm only after a
one-night stand. What you did is morally wrong because it
goes against the fabric of your relationship, something
which should be based on mutual trust and respect."

Caroline continued, "I can see now that you need someone
to collar and shackle you."

"That's what I was trying to tell you from the beginning!
I told Ramon many times that I want to belong to him," I
explained. "I want him to treat me like his possession,
like his slave, but he doesn't take any notice of my
desire.

"Maybe, if somebody tells him what I've done, he'll
punish me for it. And once he accepts that he has the
right to punish me, he'll also agree that he has the
right to decide what I may and may not do. Maybe, if
somebody explains to him that I need it for my own good,
he'll take note."

"And you think that 'somebody' should be me?"

I nodded, hoping she would agree.

Caroline went into thinking mode. When she had examined
all aspects of my proposal she said, "I don't feel
comfortable with this. Picture this: we meet, you
introduce me to Ramon and I say, as casually as possible,
'By the way, I have been sleeping with your girlfriend
once a week for the last couple of months.' That doesn't
seem a likely scenario.

"And if Ramon uses the same logic as your friend's
husband I'd get spanked as well for my part in this
story. Thanks, but no, thanks. There has to be a better
way of getting the message through to him. Maybe we could
arrange for him to find out by accident?"

Caroline turned to me. "Listen, my brain isn't
functioning very well right now, because my pussy has
been waiting for a visit from your tongue for almost an
hour. I can think much better after a 'Jacqueline's
special'."

She rolled onto her back and spread her legs, leaving no
doubt what she expected from me.

I couldn't possibly ignore her request and deny myself
the pleasure of tasting her delicious pussy. I put my
tongue to work and soon her entire body responded to my
touch. She had been waiting far too long for this treat
and tried to make up for lost time, climaxing only
minutes after I had started to lick her in earnest. But
one orgasm wasn't enough to get her brain cells
activated. She wanted more and I promptly delivered.

After Caroline had recovered from my assault on her
pussy, she declared, "I've had a brilliant idea!" Then
she explained her plan to get the message that I needed
tighter control through to Ramon without anybody having
to confess or denounce me. What she found best about her
plan was that she would come out of it smelling of roses,
completely innocent, a victim of my deviousness.

I listened carefully to her idea. It seemed risky but
possible. What left me feeling a little uneasy was that I
was going to carry all the guilt on my shoulders, but if
I was honest I had to admit that this was a fair
reflection of the truth.

The plan having been discussed in detail and agreed on, I
thought it was now time for me to receive some attention.

We had been rolling around on the bed in a tight embrace
while we discussed Caroline's strategy, each one taking
the top position when she spoke. As soon as I voiced my
request Caroline got on top of me, her moist pussy
rubbing against mine. Her breasts swayed tantalizingly
close to my mouth but I was unable to reach them because
she had my arms pinned down onto the bed, raised above my
head. There was a devilish glint in her eyes as she
asked, "Would you like to find out what it's like to be a
sex slave?"

I knew that saying yes would mean delivering myself into
Caroline's hands, unconditionally, to be completely at
her mercy. But how could I possibly chicken out? Hadn't I
implored her to help me become Ramon's slave?

"Yes, I want to be your slave," I said, not knowing what
this meant.

As she tied me spread-eagled to the four bedposts,
Caroline explained that a large part of the slave games
she had played with Billy had been about getting the
other person to do exactly what one wanted. The slave was
ordered to pleasure the master without consideration for
his or her own satisfaction. But as I had already
satisfied her lust many times over, she wasn't going to
use me this way. She was going to let me experience some
of the things Billy used to do to her.

I heard Caroline rummage through her drawers until she
found what she was looking for. When the item came into
my field of vision, I knew instinctively what it was.
Something I had read about many times but had never seen
in real life: a pair of nipple clamps, linked by a thin
metal chain. I stopped breathing as she fixed the
frightening and at the same time innocent-looking
contraptions to my nipples.

There wasn't much pain as the clamps firmed around my
tender flesh, just the feeling of a tight grip. The
discomfort increased, however, as time went on.

A gaggle of vibrators descended upon my pussy and the
surrounding area. Caroline used them to take me to a
wonderful state of arousal, just short of reaching an
orgasm. But rather than pushing me over the edge, she
left me hanging there. Vibrators danced along my slit,
darted inside my pussy, teased my clit, peeked into my
ass in a seemingly never-ending succession of assaults.
Whenever I arched my hips towards the vibrator to achieve
a more intense contact, the chain attached to the nipple
clamps tightened and increased the pain in my poor,
tortured nipples.

I begged Caroline to let me come, but I could see from
her face how much she enjoyed my ordeal and that she had
no intention of ending my agony anytime soon. Every time
a vibrator entered my pussy, I tried to grab it, hold on
to it, but they always slipped away, leaving me yearning
for a deeper penetration, a firmer touch.

I had already resigned myself to the thought that my
torment would last for a lot longer, when Caroline
suddenly stopped, switched off all the vibrators and
started to put them away.

"Oh, no!" I cried. "You can't stop now. Not without
letting me come. Come back with those vibrators, you
rotten bitch." My protests turned into a scream when she
pulled on the chain linking the nipple clamps and tore
them off with a quick jerk.

My nipples were on fire. It seems that they had been
deprived of blood supply which was now rushing back with
a vengeance, filling the tiny blood-vessels to bursting.
It felt like a thousand needles had been thrust into my
nipples, all at once. They felt raw; they seemed swollen,
about to explode.

The feeling made me think of Caroline's nipples. I had
always admired her porous nipples which seemed to expand
in size when she was aroused and were extremely sensitive
to the slightest touch. Was this the result of her
husband torturing her like this? Would my nipples become
like hers if she used the clamps on me more often?

A large feather had appeared from somewhere and Caroline
trailed it over my upper body. It was an electrifying
sensation, strange but very exciting. When she passed the
feather over my nipples, barely touching them, my body
seemed to lift off the bed, my arms and legs tearing on
my restraints. I erupted in an explosive orgasm that left
me drained of energy.

Caroline untied me and wrapped me gently in her arms. My
nipples felt as if they had been sandpapered; they ached
when they made contact with her skin.

"You're a dangerous lunatic," I said. "You ought to be
locked up. You nearly killed me."

"If you tell me in all honesty that you didn't enjoy
this, I promise that I'll never do it again."

I decided to keep my mouth shut and my options open.

"This is only a part of what Billy used to do to me.
Sometimes he would put a clamp on my clit. It was
fantastic. The sensation was so overwhelming, I used to
pass out when he stroked my clit with the feather
afterwards."

This gave me something to look forward to as we fell
asleep, locked in a tender embrace.

                    To be continued