Sub Mission

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Sub Mission

Caroline was flicking lazily through the classifieds. It was 10am in the morning and the aroma of coffee was thick and permeated the whole of her shoe-box sized bedroom. Normally, she would have been in a rush to enter the traffic rat-race for work on a Monday, but having lost her job as an insurance clerk two weeks previously, there was no need to spring out of bed today. She was supposed to be looking for a new job, as the rent bill didn’t pay itself but her eyes kept straying to the personals. It had been a long time, almost a year. Maybe she should think about dating again. Alas, it was doubtful that any of the men mentioned here would fit the bill. In fact, some were so nauseating that she almost laughed out loud:


Fairly attractive 40 yr old male looking for special lady for regular nsa fun. Not married but been with partner 14 yrs who is no longer interested in sex.


Caroline’s translation: I haven’t told my partner (who is probably my wife), but I really fancy some extra-curricular sex with anyone who’ll have me. Fairly attractive is not at all attractive in anyone’s book.


Hello, I’m Steve and looking for sexy female couples for some daytime fun indoors or outdoors (if the weather’s nice). Very open minded, any age (over 18), any size – as long as up for some fun and a few laughs. Maybe we could have some fantasy roll-play fun?


Caroline’s translation: I’m geeky, nerdy and can hold an erection for possibly all of 60 seconds with the help of Viagra. I have several fetishes, not least one which involves me being dressed as a baby with two gorgeous women (preferably well-endowed in the boob department) taking care of me.


I am a pro-glamour photographer visiting Greenwich on the 15th of July. Any ladies fancy a free shoot? If you’re trying modelling for the first time, my camera is at your disposal.


Caroline’s translation: I have borrowed a posh camera from my Dad. There is only one thing I’m in interested in shooting and it has nothing to do with pictures.


Experienced Master seeks to train new submissive in the arts of BDSM, where she will be contracted to serve him for an initial period of one month. The position carries a generous salary. There may be the possibility of extending the contract, once the period of service has ended, on the agreement of both parties. There will be a ‘submissive test’ on our first meeting, so all applicants need to study the terminology and see whether this lifestyle is right for them. The final applicant will be selected on nothing more than her own merit and willingness to serve. There is only one place available. In the first instance, reply to this advert with why you consider yourself the ideal submissive and an interview will follow for successful applicants.


Caroline’s translation: When all else fails, it’s time to turn to Google.

It was not an advert you saw every day and it must have cost a fortune to print. She had to admit that it had piqued her curiosity. What the hell was BDSM? Serve in what capacity? Why did he need a contract? What was a submissive? All these questions and more began to flood through her mind. The most interesting question that would remain unanswered for now, was how generous a salary was being offered? She closed her sleepy eyes, rubbed them and laughed to herself. Was she really considering this? Alright, she had been to about 50 interviews for job positions as far ranging from dinner lady to personal assistant and none had heralded good news in light of the current economic climate, but being paid for sex? Things weren’t that desperate yet. The man was probably hideously ugly, fat and balding. She wasn’t going to think about the prospect for one minute more. Google fired up in less than 30 seconds. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.



The act or instance of submitting, having submitted or submissive conduct or attitude.

Well, that helped, she thought. Let’s try something else.


Unresistingly or humbly obedient.

Caroline’s lips curled in distaste. Humbly obedient? In this day and age? You have got to be kidding. She continued her hounding of Google.


Double acronym: Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, Sadomasochism

Now that sounded a little more interesting. Kinky sex, perhaps? It was time to turn from dictionary definitions and get deep down and dirty with an encyclopaedia.

It appeared that BDSM, in a nutshell, involved restraint, role-playing and power exchange between consenting adults. There was usually a ‘top’ that would be the dominant in a given situation and a ‘bottom’ or ‘submissive’ who was the dominant’s to do with as he pleased. Safe words were generally involved, which allowed the submissive to immediately stop any activity, should there be cause for concern of either mental or physical well-being.

Caroline sighed wistfully. She had always fantasized about being tied up and at the mercy of another. Make that other a glorious, alpha male and the nail had been hit firmly on the head. He wouldn’t be, though. He’d probably be overweight, balding and middle aged. The delightful day dream that had just formed withered slightly, but she was not to be put off. The pleasure/pain thing made her mouth water and oh, the possibilities were endless. Handcuffs, whipping, flogging, and spankings. Blindfolds, feathers, ice-cream and champagne. Maybe she was getting BDSM confused with a film she had once seen… Anyway, she was not going to reply to the advert. Overweight, balding and middle-aged would be her mantra. Back to jobs. Boring jobs. She thumbed through the rest of the classifieds with considerably less enthusiasm.

Later that evening after a less than delicious dinner of tinned beans on toast, she considered the day’s efforts. An hour’s worth of telephone calls had produced a possible two positions and her CV had already been mailed to the prospective employer’s email address. There was nothing exciting on the TV, she had already finished her flat’s minimal housework and her vibrator lacked all-important batteries. You could reply to that advert for a laugh, said her devilish subconscious. Being a Gemini, she had two sides to her subconscious – the inner devil and the angelic angel. For some reason, she had far more discussions with her inner devil. It might be fun. Caroline worked hard to push those nasty, red horns back where they belonged. Where was her angel? You’ll regret it. Ah, there was the voice of reason. Thank goodness for that. How will you know, if you don’t at least meet the man? The horns, as usual won.

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