Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 115

I still didn't know why I loved being submissive to him like this, but I did. The more he did it, the more I wanted it. The more I needed it.

The next three months absolutely flew by. Mark and I saw each other three, maybe four times a week. He wasn't kidding about travelling a lot; there were quite a few weeks where he was away on business during which we wouldn't see each other at all. And when he wasn't working on the business, he was working on his charity, an organization dedicated to helping disadvantaged kids get access to computers, textbooks and tutors for school. Mark loved his charity, and spoke about it constantly. As the time pa.s.sed, I found that I missed him when he was gone. I wanted to spend every waking moment of every day with Mark. I began to realize after a while that I was well and truly falling in love with him. There was absolutely no doubt about it.

We were lying in bed, in his enormous, ridiculously comfortable king bed, both of us staring at the ceiling, exhausted from the s.e.x we'd just had, when he asked me the last thing I had ever expected to hear.

"Listen, Caroline, I want to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Before I start, I want you to know that it's totally fine if you say no. I'll understand."

"O...kay..." I answered, not really sure where this was going.

"I want you to be my submissive. I want to claim you, to make you mine, every second of every day. It would mean that no matter where we are, no matter what, you would have to do anything and everything I ask of you."

I didn't know what to say. I hadn't been expecting this at all. His submissive? That sounded really permanent somehow. I mean, I liked it when he tied me up, when he spanked me, when it felt like he had all of the control, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to make it permanent.

"I... would have to think about it, I think," I replied eventually.

"Of course. Take your time. I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want to do."

I wasn't sure why I didn't immediately say no. I mean, wasn't that what anyone else would have done? Who agrees to be their boyfriend's submissive?

The next day Mark was going away for a week to Seattle. I spent my days working, my nights sitting in my apartment, wondering about what my life would be like if I took Mark up on his offer? And what if I didn't? Would he break up with me? I didn't want that, of course, and I also didn't know if it would happen.

At the same time, thinking about the things Mark might make me do if I was bound to listen to his commands every second of every day sent my heart racing. What if he wanted me to have s.e.x with him in his office? In a public place? I'd have no choice but to obey, to do exactly what he wanted. I could feel my panties moistening at just the thought of it.

The question was, however, did I want to move this fast? I wasn't a trusting person by nature, my upbringing and former relations.h.i.+ps had ensured that. We had only been dating a few months, after all. I felt like I knew Mark, and yet at the same time, I also knew there were things he wasn't telling me. What were those things? Would I consider them deal breakers? Those were questions I might not even know the answer to before making this decision.

My body wanted me to say yes, but my mind wanted me to say no.

By the time Mark came back from Seattle I still didn't have an answer for him. He told me again that it was fine, there was absolutely no rush. I appreciated the fact that he gave me the time to come to my own decision without pressuring me into doing something I wasn't comfortable with. In the meantime we continued dating, seeing each other. I found myself sleeping over at his place more and more, and every time he went away on business I felt my heart panging, longing for him.

A month or so after he had originally asked me about becoming his submissive, Mark asked me out to a charity dinner his family was holding.

"I don't want to go, I absolutely hate these things. I know my father holds them on purpose, to make us all stand around and look good in photos and pretend we're a normal family, but I despise them more than anything. Also with Teach the Children, it's good for me to show up at my family's dinners, for the exposure and everything. That said, I'd love to take you as my date this year. You would have to meet the rest of my family. I promise you, my sister is lovely."

"Well seeing as you're selling it to me as such a fun night, how can I say no?" I answered. Mark smiled at my sarcasm.

"Yeah, well, I figured it's best to be honest. The dinner's in New York, we'd have to fly over there the morning of, then fly back the next day."

"I'd love to go with you."

Mark never mentioned his family. Well, rarely, anyway. I'd gotten the impression that his family and his childhood weren't things he wanted to talk about. Every time it was brought up he good moody and distracted. To me, that was perfectly fine. It went well with my complete distaste of talking about my own family, and we lived in a comfortable acceptance that neither one of us wanted to talk about our pasts.

The next Sat.u.r.day morning Mark and I flew out to New York City. I had gone shopping the day before for yet another expensive dress; Mark insisted on buying it for me, and I definitely didn't mind. In a way it was nice, having someone willing to buy my nice things. I knew the amount I was spending was like pennies to him, but I still liked the fact that he was willing to do it. I had never had such a nice wardrobe before in my life.

The dress bag was in the back of the car as we headed to the airport. I a.s.sumed we were flying commercial, but to my surprise, rather than heading towards the departures section of the airport, the car driving us instead made a turn down a service road. Dust flew up behind us until we finally reached a gate. The driver spoke to the guard for a minute, then we were waved through and driven to a hangar where a private plane stood, waiting for us.

I couldn't believe it. We were going in a private jet?

"Is this really for us?" I asked, looking at Mark.

He grinned, noting my obvious excitement.

"Yup, certainly is. I don't like flying commercial. Too many chances for delays, it's not as comfortable, that sort of thing. Besides, we're flying on business, so I can take the business' jet to get there."

He took my hand and led me up the stairs into the interior. Leather seats lined one side of the plane, with tables in front of some of the chairs in case anyone wanted to get some work done. On the other side of the plane was a long banquet table with built-in dishes, I suppose so they didn't slip during takeoff and landing. At the back of the plane was a conference room with a large table in the center. This was incredible! I didn't even know planes looked like this. I mean, I knew businesses had private jets and all that, but I had never stopped to think about what they might look like inside. This was definitely nicer than the flight we'd taken to Hawaii. Not too shabby for my third ever flight on a plane.

I sat down in one of the leather seats and did up my seatbelt. When the plane took off, I grabbed the side of the chair, still not used to the sensation of flying.

"Not a confident flyer?" Mark asked from his seat across from me. He had opened up his laptop and I knew he was planning on getting a presentation he had to work on for next week finished.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not used to it."

"How many flights have you taken before?"

"Um, well, the trip to Hawaii was my first time ever on a plane."

"Oh! Well, then yeah, that's completely understandable. Don't worry, you'll eventually get used to it."

"Thanks. Once the plane levels out a bit I'm usually better. It feels more normal, you know?"

"Yeah, I do, definitely."

Just then the stewardess came by to take an order for breakfast. To my surprise, she was able to order whatever I wanted. This definitely wasn't like the flight to Hawaii! I ordered some fruit and pancakes, while Mark wanted some eggs, toast and coffee. We munched away, Mark trying not to drop crumbs into the keys of his laptop while he worked.

The closer we got to New York, the more nervous I found myself getting. I wasn't sure what to expect with Mark's family. h.e.l.l, he hadn't even told me their names.

We arrived in the middle of the afternoon. I'd never been to New York City before, and I marvelled as I looked out the window of the car driving us downtown.

"One day I'll take you here for a holiday or something, so you can really get to know the city. I would have loved to do it now, but coming into the holidays and the end of the year I'm afraid I can't spare the time away from the office."

"That's alright," I smiled. It was true that Mark had been spending a lot longer than he usually did at the office lately. It was still nice to be able to spend a whole day with him, even if we'd lost three hours due to time zone changes and were going to one of those fancy rich people dinners.

When we got to the hotel, we pretty much had to start getting ready straight away, otherwise we were going to be late. I slipped into my dress, a floor length, navy blue curve hugger that s.h.i.+mmered every time I moved. I absolutely fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. I paired it with silver heels and a pair of diamond earrings Mark had given me for my birthday in September. When I came back out into the living room, Mark let out a low whistle.

"d.a.m.n, you look good," he murmured, leaning in and kissing my earlobe gently. I could feel my body reacting to his touch, but forced the thoughts away. We were going out, there was no time for anything like that.

"Hey, before we go, I decided I want to give you a taste of what it would be like to be my submissive."

I didn't know what to expect as Mark moved over to the table where there lay a little box. He brought it over to me and I opened it. Lying in the bottom of the box was a small egg-like silver vibrator. I looked up at Mark, my eyes filled with both confusion and a little bit of worry. We didn't have time to play with this, we had to get going. He smiled and took the vibrator out of the box. Slowly, tantalizingly, he slid my dress up my leg and reached in between my thighs.

A small gasp escaped my lips as I felt his fingers finding the thin fabric of my panties and slipping through to the other side of them, to the folds of my s.e.x.

He pressed the egg inside of me slowly, carefully, and I grabbed at his shoulders.

"What are you doing, we have to get going!" I exclaimed, worried, but excited at the same time.

Mark pulled his fingers out from inside of me. Suddenly, the vibrator began to work inside of me, buzzing to life and immediately making my legs feel like jelly. I gasped and looked up at him, and he grinned, turning off the vibrator and pulling a small remote from his pocket; it looked like a garage door opener.

"What..." I started, but my voice trailed away. I didn't even know what to ask.

"For tonight, you're mine. You'll never know when I turn this on, and when I do, you're going to have to work hard to stop people from noticing."

Suddenly it clicked. I realized exactly what was going to happen, and my eyes widened. A part of me wanted to tear the vibrator out of me, throw it away, go to the party normally. But still, something inside of me resisted. Something inside of me made me stop, made me do as Mark wanted. I didn't really know why, but I obeyed.

He took my arm and led me back to the waiting car. My mind was swirling with thoughts. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to react. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I had to wait with this thing inside of me, wait until Mark decided he was going to turn it on. He had complete and total control over it, complete and total control over me tonight, and just the thought of it was turning me on. I couldn't believe it. This wasn't how I was supposed to act. This wasn't me at all, and yet it was happening.

On the way to the hotel, Mark described his family to me.

"My mother is the ultimate family matriarch. She's what you think of when you think cranky, old, rich white woman. Don't be surprised if she randomly sprouts off some terrible racist opinion, there's a good chance that will happen in your presence at some point. She'll look down on you, she'll make disparaging comments about your appearance, but she'll do it subtly enough that you'll feel rude if you reply back."

"She sounds lovely."

"Yeah. She was actually a decent human being when I was young, believe it or not. I think arthritis has made her cranky."

"Don't worry, I do actually get along with most people."

Mark smiled wryly. "Don't say that until you've actually met my family. My father will probably actually like you. He'll be incredibly polite, he'll be charming, but under that facade is a man that you don't want to know."

That was all Mark said on the subject. He was silent for a minute, living his own memories, then continued.

"My sister will be there as well. She's lovely. She's older than me by a couple years, thirty five now. She runs the east coast side of things, as you know. She's easy to have a conversation with, I think the two of you will get along fine."

As the car pulled up to the upscale luxury hotel where the charity dinner was taking place, I could feel my nerves starting to take over. What if I screwed this up? What if I completely embarra.s.sed Mark? There was a very real possibility of that happening given the ticking time bomb inside of me. It could go off at any minute, and then what? Would I be able to hide it from everyone? Would they hear? Oh G.o.d, what if someone heard? What if someone figured it out? What would I do? It would be humiliating.

Every terrible scenario I could possibly think of ran through my head. Thoughts swirled around, each one worse than the last. b.u.t.terflies ran through my stomach as Mark took my arm as we left the car. He led me through the hotel's lobby to the first floor. A man in a tuxedo at the door checked our names off a list and we were led into the Selzer Family Charity Dinner.

As soon as I walked in I found myself even more overwhelmed than I felt in the car. There were at least a hundred people in the enormous room, each one dressed in more expensive and elegant clothes and jewels than the last. I felt like a fraud. I didn't belong here. What was going to happen when I didn't know what fork to use with my salad? I was going to embarra.s.s myself, and Mark.

My fear was so strong I almost forgot about the little egg inside of me. Oh G.o.d, I was never going to survive this night.

Before I had a chance to dwell on just how terrible I was going to be at this, an older woman came up to us. Dressed in black from head to toe, but with expensive gold jewellery lining her arms, ears and fingers, she had a shrewd face. Her body was frail, but it was obvious her eyes were still very full of life, gleaming blue, the exact same shade of blue as Mark's. That's why I wasn't surprised when he introduced her: "Caroline, I'd like you to meet my mother. Mother, this is Caroline, my girlfriend."

"How do you do Mrs. Selzer, it's lovely to meet you," I told her, extending a hand out. She looked at my hand coldly for a minute, as though deciding whether or not it was clean enough to touch before briefly shaking it with her own hand. Her handshake was frail, but I had a feeling she made sure it seemed that way.

"Caroline. I suppose you're not from a good family, are you? You don't have money of your own?"

I was taken aback by the sudden brusque questioning, but I put on my sweetest smile.

"No, my family has no money. I'm afraid I may not live up to the standards you desire for your son."

She made a noise that sounded a little bit like a "hrumph" as she looked me up and down.

"Alright, well, Mark's a big boy, I'm sure he can make his own decisions."

After couple of minutes of very unpleasant conversation later she was gone, slinking off like a snake to find another unsuspecting victim.

"You were definitely right about your mom, she's a treat."

"Yeah, when people complain to me about having to bring girls home for dinner, they have no idea how easy they have it. My dad will be nicer to you though. Oh, here he comes now."

When I saw the man coming towards us, I almost did a double take. It was like looking at Mark thirty years in the future. Mark's father's hairline was a few inches further back, there were more lines on his face and his nose was just a little bit bigger, but apart from that he was the splitting image of his son. He greeted me with the same warm smile I'd become so accustomed to from his son.

"You must be Caroline, welcome, welcome!"

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Selzer," I replied as I shook his hand. His handshake was strong, confident, everything I would have imagined the family patriarch's personality to be.

"Oh please, call me Anthony. Everybody else does, and you're practically family now, from what Mark's told me."

If I didn't know better, I would have thought Mark blushed next to me.

"You're too kind, although I am honored that Mark thought to bring me here tonight."

"Yes, we were starting to think he might swing the other way, he brought so few of his girlfriends to these things to meet his family," Anthony joked, and I laughed along lightly with him. I could tell Mark wasn't comfortable, although he was doing his best to hide it. Eventually, after a few more minutes of chit-chat, his father excused himself to go speak with someone else.

"Well, there you go. I told you, my father's charming."

"Yes. You're absolutely right there. But I know people can be far different in private."

Mark pressed his lips together and nodded, and I didn't press. Instead, I took his hand and led him towards one of the waiters. I could use a gla.s.s of champagne after having met both my boyfriend's parents in quick succession tonight.

"I'll be right back, Caroline, if you don't mind. I just need to go to the bathroom quickly," Mark said, excusing himself. I moved over to the wall, where I could observe what was going on in the room without being noticed.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the egg I had practically forgotten about buzzed to life inside of me. I gasped and just about dropped the flute of champagne I was holding as my legs almost immediately turned to jelly. The vibrations were low, slow, but enough that my body immediately reacted. I could feel the juices inside of me building up and a small moan escaped my lips that I managed to kill almost immediately.

I knew I couldn't let anyone notice what was happening to me. I looked around, half looking for Mark, to see where he was that he was doing this, half checking to see if anyone else around could hear. The buzzing felt so loud inside of me, I was sure everyone in this room knew what was happening to me.

But as I glanced around, I saw no wayward eyes, no one seemed to notice what was going on inside of me.

I, on the other hand, was very acutely aware of every little vibration of the egg inside of me. Fire radiated through my body, coursing through me from my most sensitive areas. The vibrations were strong enough that I wanted more, that I needed more, but not so strong that I was going to get that release I wanted, the release that with every pa.s.sing second I needed.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt Mark's hand on my back. I jumped at his touch, the sensation of his fingers against me driving me completely wild. Still the egg buzzed inside of me.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked with a sly, knowing smile.

I could only stare at him.

"I can't believe this is happening," I finally whispered, not trusting my voice to go any louder. "Oh my G.o.d!"

Mark's smile widened.

"I thought I'd make sure you enjoyed yourself."

Suddenly, the egg stopped. A small, almost involuntary moan escaped my lips as the vibrations suddenly stopped. As much as it was incredibly embarra.s.sing, as much as I couldn't imagine going on with it, my body wanted more. It wanted to finish the job.

Mark handed me a gla.s.s of champagne from a tray being carried around by a waiter and handed it to me, it took all my willpower not to down it all in one go.