Submitting Submissive Stories

I've just finished servicing three customers in quick succession and I haven't gotten a moment's rest before I hear the door to my stall being unlocked. I gulp in an attempt to swallow my fear as well the load from my previous customer. I'm always wary that one of the staff could come in here in any moment and take advantage of my situation. Well, take advantage of me in a way that ignored the hard limits listed in my contract. But my fears and fantasies are not given enough time to flourish into full blown panic. The door to my stall creeks open to reveal my mistress, wearing a black t-shirt sheer enough to show her black sports bra underneath, a pair of light grey skinny jeans tucked into her brown suede calf high boots, and her hair is in a messy a-line bob that's just barely long enough to grace her shoulders. I'm filled with relief and then a different type of nervousness. The door latches shut behind her and with a free hand she pulls her phone out of the duffle bag she's hefting and says, "Oh my, what a cute little mess you've become." I can't help but smile at the sight of my mistress. Though part of me loves be at the mercy of her when she's in donned in black leather or latex, demanding I grovel at boots with more intimidating heels, I still adore her in her day to day attire. Her entering in her comfortable, casual clothes while the only thing I'm wearing is a leather armbinder, which is strict in every sense of the word, only emphasizes the contrast of our roles. She drops the duffle bag to her side and positions her phone and herself in front of me, tapping at the screen and taking pictures. "Okay, now a sad one. A serious one. One that looks like you're not having the time of my life." Trying to hide my giddiness, I grin like an idiot. The butterflies in my stomach always take a while to settle when she's around. I need an acclimate to her being in the room. I try my best to hold my lips together. "Come now," she says, "All of your more serious pictures get more notes. Try letting your jaw slack. Stick your tongue out a bit. Act like you've just been used excessively. Like it JUST happened. Wonderful, hold that," my mistress finishes taking a few more pictures, squats down to my level and holds her phone out to show me. I see myself bounded and leashed to a wall. My semi erect cock poking out between my thighs. My magenta lipstick is smeared all around my mouth and my mascara is running down my cheeks. Only the left side of my bangs are messy from the customers, my eyeshadow is a little smudged, and my eyebrows are untouched. My mistress looks at the pictures again and says, "She's a dirty little slut, isn't she?" I nod and smile again. I so desperately want to kiss her but I know that wouldn't be appropriate yet. If I've not been given permission to speak yet than I'm probably not allowed to be affectionate. "You know what would make for an even better picture?" My mistress removes a take out box from the top of her duffle bag and unzips the main pouch, pulling out a spider gag. A thin metal ring with six curved prongs going out in every direction, meant to keep the gag from spinning around when it's in someone's mouth. Most likely my mouth. "And yes, before you begin to wonder, this was paid for on our account. Your last two customers were very generous tippers, regulars in case you couldn't tell by just their cocks, and you are dangerously close to having evened out our tab. And I know how much you love being 'trapped' here, so I've bought you a few goodies to keep you here till the early morning." I don't feel any need to be reassured that my mistress hasn't made any unwise purchases, but her efforts have settled the butterflies in my belly into something more resembling "warm fuzzies." Though that could just be all the cum. Holding the gag by the straps and displaying it from every angle, my mistress continues, "Not only would this accessory make for a wonderful picture, but I think there is a customer of this fine establishment waiting in the lounge who would be more than willing to assist with your," waving her hand around my face, "overall look. So, my pet, what do you say? Would you like to service one last cock before you take your break?" I start to nod, but my mistress ignores me. "Also, also, not to mention you've serviced nineteen customers since you've started six hours ago, so getting one more would make that an even twenty. And twenty would sound far more impressive than nineteen." My mistress goes on without making eye contact as she rambles. She's trying to get me to interrupt her, to speak, so she could punish me. So I sit there doe eyed and patient as can be. "Wouldn't that be an enticing post? 'Aspen has sucked 20 dicks and she's still hankering for more! Come on down!' Hankering is not that sexy of a word though. Desperate, maybe? Desperate for more? Would you say you're desperate to suck more cock?" I bat my messy eyelashes at her. "So you're up for one more?" I nod and she gets up to flip the switch near the door to indicate to those in the lounge area that there is someone in a stall waiting and willing to service a customer. My mistress then positions me in front of the gloryhole and herself behind me, strapping the spider gag snuggly in my mouth. The gag puts a strain on the skin of my mouth but it doesn't hurt my jaw. I imagine that would change after half an hour or so. My mistress finishes buckling the strap right when we hear a knock on the wall from my would-be-twentieth-customer of the night, which doesn't seem like a lot for being here for 6 hours, but it's Friday and this establishment gets far more customers on Saturday and Sunday. Also, in my defense, I'm under strict instructions to take my time with each customer. In a friendly, domestic voice, my mistress says, "Come iiiiiin." With one hand my mistress wraps my hair in her fist and grips my throat in the other. My shoulders slack as I feel her pull closer to me, squeezing me between her legs and pushing her breasts against my bound arms. I feel so at ease, so completely under her control. I no longer have the option for doubts or decisions. I feel like I'm an extension of my mistress. Or a tool. A tool with a very simple purpose that I don't even need to try to perform adequately, because my mistress is pulling the strings. I'm so enticed by my mistress's embrace I hardly notice the cock sliding into my pried open mouth. Even though I'm gasping for air with strings of spit flying about my mouth, I can't remember feeling so calm, so relaxed. I feel so safe in my mistress's grip, and so secure with my place in the world. In this moment the world is so small and simple, and I have value in it. I can do no wrong and no wrong can be done to me "Just like that," my mistress whispers, "Good girl," My eyes are closed and I've drifted away from the problems and complexities and messiness of life and landed right here. This too is messy, but in the best way. "Good girl Aspen, take it all in. Good girl." I don't remember hearing a warning knock, but I start to cough as the customer shoots his load down my throat. My mistress pulls me off my customer with the firm grip she still has of my hair, and jerks off the cock, still dripping with my saliva, and helps guide the streams of semen on my face. My mistress keeps my head tilted back so nothing spills past the spider gag. Unlike the rest of it, the last drops of semen lands neatly in my mouth and my customer's cock retreats back into the hole. My mistress leans me against the the wall and say's into the gloryhole, 'Thank you for your patronage sir. Please do come again." I'd smile if the gag allowed it. My mistress positions me next the glory hole and poses me as she sees' fit. After taking a few pictures, saying, "Such a pretty little cum slut," she once more shows me her handwork. My image is a mess. My makeup is all the more smeared, my hair is quite disheveled after being under my mistress' grip, and there are three 'clean' streaks of cum across my face. And a whole lot more pooled and dripping from my gagged mouth. My mistress smiles, "That's a profile pic if I'd ever seen one." -- After scooping the cum that didn't make it into my mouth, into my mouth, and after I licked my mistress's fingers as best I could through the gag and for as long as she would let me, I was allowed to swallow the load. Before she'd removed the spider gag and I had a chance to show my manners, my Mistress asks, "What do you say?" "Thank you mistress," I gasp. She places her hand under my chin and says, "Good girl." I let her support the weight of my head and I nuzzle my face into her palm. She sits in the folding chair and unhooks my collar from the leash so I can scoot closer and rest my head in her lap. She strokes my hair from my brow to behind my ear with one hand and reaches into into the duffle bag with the other, collecting a fresh towel, makeup wipes, a water bottle and a jar of moisturizing cream. After getting enough makeup and cum off with the wipes, my mistress gets the towel damp and scrubs out the rest, particularly focusing on the semen that had dried in my hair. Once I'm clean as can be without a long shower, my mistress scoops out a small amount of the moisturizer and applies it on my cheeks, spreading it out in soft circular motions across my face and neck. She makes a bad joke about giving me a facial after a facial and takes her time brushing my hair Finishing up my hair, braiding and pinning my bangs to the side, my mistress asks, "Have you been having fun?" I smile and nod. "You need to go potty?" I resist the urge to roll my eyes and shake my head. "Are you thirsty? Hungry?" I nod. "Even after all that cum in your belly?" I smile wider and nod again. "Would you like out of the binder?" My mistress smirks when I shake my head and twists me around so I'm leaning back between her legs and facing forward. She brings a clear baby bottle filled with water out of the duffle bag and holds it in front of my mouth. She wraps she other arm around me and cups my throat, but doesn't grip as roughly as when I was sucking cock. I try to move forward and suck from the bottle, but my mistress pulls the bottle just out of reach. When I try even harder to move forward, my mistress holds me back, applying a bit more pressure on my throat. As content with my Mistress is with pampering me, she likes to do so while asserting as much dominance and control as possible. And I am more than happy to be on the receiving end and be reminded of who I belong to. I only continue the struggling for so much longer before I whimper and my Mistress finally lets me drink from the bottle. As I start suckeling from the clear rubber nipple, my mistress says, "Drink it all," which I know is because she's concerned I've been getting dehydrated being stuck in here for hours on end, but my mistress is also giving me another opportunity to disobey and order an inspire punishment. That is the same intention with having me drink from a baby bottle and asking if I need to 'go potty.' When we were first ironing out what we wanted from one another and what our limits were, we spent time discussing age play. And though it wasn't what either of us were particularly rushing to try out, my mistress teased me for how fascinated I was with the fetish, even though I didn't necessarily want to participate in it. And thus she now talks down to me as if I were a child and uses props like pacifiers and baby bottles to tease and provoke me. And though it seldom ends up with me misbehaving, it still keeps me in my place, which we are both happy with. Sucking from the bottle, I'm reminded of the apparently twenty cocks I've serviced so far, and I can't help but miss the texture and thickness of their semen. I wonder if my bottle could be filled with cum and fantasize about how that would work when I realize I've emptied the baby bottle and a few drops dribble out of my mouth. My mistress wipes the drops from my chin and puts her finger in my mouth. I suck much longer than I need to. "Is my girl still thirsty?" my Mistress asks. I nod. My mistress moves the hand from my throat to my mouth so I can continue sucking on her fingers while she puts the bottle away. After a moment of feeling my mistress move around behind me, she returns her other hand to my mouth, now damp and smelling of her sex. I suck her sour, somewhat metallic juices from her fingers enthusiastically. After a half a minute, my mistress returns her hand to herself, for longer this time, and again returns her dripping fingers from my mouth to drink from. This is repeated a few times and I'm eventually turned around to service and drink from my mistress more directly. It is not my most spirited attempt at going down on her, with me not having recovered from all of this evenings customers, and I'm quickly out of breath. Regardless, my mistress keeps me pressed against her, making it clear when I'm moving in the right direction by tightening her grip on my hair and clamping down her thighs. After she's orgasmed and released me, in between pants I say, "Thank you mistress." And after catching her own breath, she gently pats down my face with the towel and asks, "You'd still like to eat eat, yes?" I nod half heartedly. Out the take out box my mistress feeds me eggs and bacon from a local diner. I would make an attempt at being lewd and sucking from the plastic spork, but I'm running out of steam. I can't manage to finish the whole breakfast my mistress brought me, my belly was already quite full. My Mistress strokes my hair while I lay in her lap. "Did you manage to get any sleep in between your customers?" I mumble "mhmm hmm," into her thigh. "And did Beth, or whoever was working at the front counter earlier, check in on you every hour?" "Think so." "Good," my mistress says, scratching behind my ear. "You're going to be officially on the clock again in twenty or so minutes. And once you're done here, which will be at 2:30, you'll get a half hour break before you're scheduled to be in one of the big rooms from 3 to 5, with an opportunity to stop at 4 if you need. You sure you're up for all that?" She barely stops for me to mumble another mhmm hmm, "According to the app you've got 15 members RSVP'd as attending, and 8 maybes. And a handful of all them are couples, so we'll definitely be paid off by the end of the first hour in the big room. SO, you can call it quits and we head home, or just retire to our suite at 4 for however long you'd like." "Or," I begin. "Or we leave you in the big room getting fucked silly till you pass out, which is the plan. Which is a very hot plan, but also a very dumb plan." "I wanna see how long I can go," I mumble. "So cute and so dumb." My mistress bends down to kiss my head, "As you know, I'll be heading back to our room at 5, regardless of whatever you decide. I just wanna make sure you remember that. So you'll be watched over by the club supervisors at that point." Again I mumble into her thigh, not making an attempt to say anything coherent. "Alright, I'll stop bugging you until your next customer arrives. And I'll help you redo your makeup once you're finished up here. And at that point you have to go to the bathroom." I kiss her thigh and nuzzle into her lap saying, "Thank you mistress," indulging in every stroke and pet my mistress offers until it's time for me go back to work.

I wake to a knock on the wall I'm leaning against. It's dark, but after blinking and squinting I can see a dim orange light is illuminating the placard not far from me. I sit up to read it and I'm reminded that I'm secured in a leather arm binder. It's tight, but not as tight as it was when I was first locked in here. As I prop myself up onto my knees, the lights slowly come back on, triggered by a motion sensor somewhere in the room. I'm grateful that the lights only get so bright, like a movie theater during the previews. I don't bother looking around the room because I already know what's there. And what's not. I know there is a chair to my right that I'm not allowed to sit in. There's a touch screen monitor behind me that's been switched off, because I'm "not to be distracted." And because all the videos require a credit card to view, and I'm here to make money, not spend money. I scooch closer to the placard slowly, trying to keep the towel folded beneath me. The tile floors are convenient for cleaning up any messes made, but hell on one's knees. I blow my bangs out of my eyes and resist the urge to fix my hair(which isn't hard with the arm binder). Before my eyes can focus on the words engraved on the placard, the tip of a cock slides through the long, rounded hole just below. I jerk back only to reminded that I'm wearing a color that'z leashed and latched to the wall, right next to the hole. The leash allows enough give for me to lean against the wall when I'm not being used, but not enough to escape a grabby hand thrust through the hole if a customer were to become impatient. I look from the tip of the cock to one of the yellow post-it notes next to the placard, written in black ballpoint pen and surrounded with a cute little hearts, saying, "I've told reception that if any visitors are unsatisfied with your performance, your door is to be unlocked so your customers can ensure they get their money's worth!" I tense in fear for a moment, tugging on the leash, but remember that my mistress would never actually allow that, and I relax. The note is solely there to encourage me to be enthusiastic. I read another note saying "I know you'll do great!" with more hearts, but I hear another, harsher knock on the wall, telling me to get to work. I immediately duck down lower to take the flaccid cock in my mouth, but I remember the first rule, "Take your time. Each customer is entitled to at least 10 minutes of your mouth. You're finished when they're finished." I remember each rule on the placard, but I've been instructed to re-read them before I service every customer. I ease back on the cock and kiss the tip a few times before licking his hole. I then lick along the shaft and make my way to his balls, where I start sucking. My customer's cock covers one of my eyes and rests across the bridge of my nose. He's rock hard and so am I. I managed to take deep breaths while working on his balls and can feel my collar strain against my throat. I can feel precum dripping from his member and onto my forehead, causing my hair to stick to my skin. I kiss along his shaft again and work work my way back to his head. I feel the weight of my hoop earrings as I shake my head to loosen my bangs from my forehead, but the precum has already done it's damage. I tell myself that I'd probably leave the gloryhole looking a mess anyway and get back to it. Sliding his member into my mouth and licking the underside of his shaft, I re-read the second rule of the placard, "No masturbating. The customer is here to get off, not you." I groan into his cock as I remember that this is why I have to wear the arm binder. Not that I dislike the arm binder. I struggle a bit to remind myself how snug it is and how nice it feels to be restrained. Like my mistress is holding my arms back and squeezing my chest herself. The last time I was here I pleasured myself while on the clock, knowing full well that there would be some sort of consequence. My mistress was kind enough to let me choose the arm binder over a cock cage. I chose the arm binder obviously to avoid the pain from the cock cage, but also because the binder cost more, so it would take longer for me to work off the bill. So I'd be kept here the whole weekend. I try to lower myself and grind my member against the towel while I bob up and down on my customer, but I hit the tip of my cock against the wall and decide I better just focus on the cock in my mouth. My customer groans and I pick up my pace, trying to take more and more of him in as I prepare to start deepthroating. After hitting the back of my throat enough times and challenging my gag reflex, I hold myself down on his cock and try to open my mouth enough to breath. I exhale and making gagging sounds, in part because I know the customers like to hear it, but mainly because I like to hear it. I continue to bob up and down, but never let his cock leave my throat. I strain my eyes to the placard, and though I can't read the third and final rule, I can remember it perfectly. "Swallow all semen. You will be required to clean the booth before you leave." Right under this last rule, my mistress always adds a post-it note saying 'with your tongue :p" I pull back one last time for a proper breath and to see my second favorite note my mistress has left for me this session. Surrounded with hearts and stars it reads, "As cute as you look covered in cum, I need you to swallow!" with swallow underlined twice. I blush and return to deepthroating the cock. My customer starts thrusting so I keep my nose pressed against his pubes. He's decided that I'm nearing the end of my service, so I let him set the pace. Saliva spills from my mouth and I gag involuntarily as he continues to thrust. I notice that I've been grinding my member against the towel again. He knocks twice against the wall to let me know he's about to cum. With his cock as far down my throat as he can get it, he stops moving. I cough when the first stream of cum hits the back of my throat and I hear my customer say, "Don't swallow it yet." To obey I pull back a bit and say "Yes sir," into his cock. There is only one more powerful spurt of semen before I have to coax the rest out myself, sucking hard on his member in long strokes as globs of his cum pool in my mouth. I notice that my lipstick has smeared on his cock and I'm surprised that it hadn't all been rubbed off from earlier in the evening. I keep sucking on his tip until he pulls away, seemingly spent and satisfied with my efforts. I push the cum to the front of my mouth, nearly past my lips. I hear a digital shutter sound and there is a flash from his phone, and he says. "What do you say?" I gurgle "Thank you" as best as I can without closing my mouth or letting the cum spill. He says "Good girl," before I he zips up and steps back. After I hear the door to his booth click shut, I lean back against the wall, swirling the cum around my mouth with my tongue. I read another one of the notes my mistress left for me, with only a single heart drawn underneath the words, 'Savor it!" I strain once more against the arm binder to remind myself how hopeless I am, and tilt my head back, letting the cum drip down my throat.