The Long Night (sub) Ch. 01

Literotic asexstories – The Long Night (sub) Ch. 01 by ___Nyx___,___Nyx___
Note #1: This scenario will be written from both the Domme side and the sub side. The Dominant side is titled “The Long Night (Domme).” I suggest choosing one or the other to read first based on your sexual preferences. Each version focuses on the thoughts and emotions of the Domme/submissive as the night progresses.

Note #2: In this case, the Domme is considered a “soft” Domme. As you read this version, I hope you see why.

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The Long Night (sub): Chapter 1

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I couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

The sun was setting as I drove. The sky was tinted with reds, yellows, oranges, and purples. I reveled in the color as much as I could, letting it calm me. The miles were ticking away. Only ten more miles before the exit. I was in unfamiliar territory, but it felt liberating. Everything about this trip felt liberating. Being out in the country after being stifled in the city for so long made me feel like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.

I enjoyed my job as a copy editor, but the hours were insane. My boss was constantly on my case about deadlines, and as soon as one was met another project landed on my desk. Being the perfectionist that I am (which was a great thing for a copy editor), I spent far more time at work reading and editing than anyone else in at the publishing house. Unfortunately, that also meant my boss spent much more time throwing sexual innuendos at me than he did at any other employee. Luckily, I did manage to keep up my running over my lunch break so my body could handle the stress. My mind was another story. There was always a nagging feeling that I was missing out on something big, something life-altering.

One of the projects tossed onto my desk was a very raunchy novel by a new author. My boss wanted me to read it through and see if it was worth the time it would take to work with the author on revisions. He even crudely suggested we “act out” some of the scenes to see if the author wrote them in a realistic way. God, that man was a piece of work. If I could find another editing job in the city I would, but right now editors were a dime a dozen and I was lucky to have a job at all.

Lord knows I didn’t want to “act out” anything with that creep, but my sex life had been dormant since college. My only partner was my own hand. I didn’t like watching porn as it never could take me over the edge. Words did more, but I didn’t have much time to read. At least now I could read and hopefully take the edge off at the same time if this author was any good. As it turned out, the plotline involved BDSM, which I knew very little about since my entire sex life was vanilla. In fact, I’d never heard of some of the things the author wrote about, and many of the terms she used were words I never heard before. I decided that to do my job well, I’d better learn more about the dark side of sex.

I looked up terms the author used, such as “switch,” “aftercare,” “munch,” and “collaring.” This last one intrigued me. I thought at first it was connected to bondage, but found it was much more intense and meaningful. The book I was editing had three chapters dedicated to collaring listed in the table of contents – one on the “consideration” collar, one on the “training” collar, and one on the “formal” collar. The author gave a general sense of what these different collars meant through the plotline of the story, but I still wasn’t quite clear.

That’s when I found Literotica.

On Lit, I found a series of short stories that included a lot of the terms the author used. As I read the series (editing in my head, of courses), I started feeling warm… no, hot. I went to the bathroom. My cheeks were flushed, and my hands were shaking. Then I finally traced the feeling. I’d been so entrenched in the editing portion of my brain that I hadn’t noticed just how wet I’d gotten while reading. I took off my jeans and panties and sat on the toilet. My gosh! My panties were soaked, and my jeans had a large dark spot in the crotch. What was happening to me? I masturbated fairly often, but I’d never been soaked like this.

I bookmarked the series, then decided to check out the forums. Not only could I read about the topics the author mentioned in the book, but I could also ask questions. At first, I was hesitant to post and just tried to find the answers I needed in the posts. But just like the author’s description, what I found wasn’t quite enough to clear up the distinctions for me. I also wondered why anyone would wear a collar on a regular basis in the first place – those were just for dogs and cats, weren’t they?

I decided to post my questions.

Forgive my naiveté, but I have a few questions. Keep in mind I’m a totally vanilla person, so all of this is totally out of my realm of imagination. I’m just trying to understand these things for a project at work.

Well, that last part got some interesting reactions. Suddenly there were so many people interested in what I did for a living.

Can someone explain the different levels of collars? Consideration, training, and formal?

After a couple of days I had a few answers. One man explained that they were similar to a promise ring, an engagement ring, and the wedding ring. But then another said it was much more involved than that but that was a fair enough distinction for a “vanilla” like me. I followed up a week later, after reading the chapter on the consideration collaring.

Ok thank you all. So how serious is the consideration phase? I just read something that was almost ritualistic about it. This sounds really intriguing to me and I’d like to learn about this lifestyle.

I added this last part hoping that I would get more information that would help as I edited future chapters. I didn’t expect the flood of private messages.

I’ll teach you all about being a good girl and earning that collar. Now get on your knees and suck on a banana like you would suck My cock, slut. I want video.

I’ve very well acquainted with the collaring process and have collared several slaves. I’d be happy to consider adding you to My harem if you behave like a well-trained pet.

If that’s intriguing, you’re really just a dirty cumslut disguising yourself as a normal person. I’d whip that normal attitude right out of you and make you a proper cumbucket.

On and on they went. I’d stirred up the kinky hornet’s nest. The messages kept coming for several days.

Then one day, there was another message mixed in with the others.

“Forgive me if I’m intruding as I’m not what you’re searching for. I’m a female Domme, but I just wanted to reach out and make sure you weren’t being harassed too much here. If you’d like to talk sometime, let me know.”

A female dominant? After reading the book, the stories, the posts, and the messages I’d received, I couldn’t quite imagine a man submitting to a woman. I decided to find stories that had to do with male submission, and I was surprised to find hundreds. Many had “sissy” in the title, and that just didn’t sound appealing at all. After reading a few about women dominating men, I decided that really wasn’t stimulating to me in the least. I read more of the book… and more of the story series I had bookmarked. Every time I read that series, I ended up changing my panties afterward. I felt dirty, but also more stimulated than I’d ever been in my life. I found myself wanting to sneak out to the bathroom at work and get off.

Eventually, I decided that maybe that mystery woman could be of help. She was pleasant in her message, unlike all the other perverts. For some reason I felt no trepidation at all writing back to her.

“I wondered if I would get any interest here, but it seems I’ve found the dark side of this site. Thank God I didn’t give any identifying information out; I’ve honestly been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go worried I’d get attacked or something.”

It only took her a few minutes to respond.

I’m so sorry you’ve had that experience. I can attest that there are good people here but finding them amongst the deviants and perverts can be difficult.

No kidding.

We exchanged a few messages that weekend and started chatting the next week. Since then, not a day went by that we didn’t chat or speak on the phone. After all these months, I honestly could not imagine my life without her. My first impression was right – she was kind, patient, and caring. But after only a week chatting, we turned a corner in our friendship and never turned back, and I loved every single second of it.

I submitted to her – mind, body and soul. It was the most liberating thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I have not regretted a single second of my time as Her online pet. I can’t even remember now how we got to that point. It seemed to just flow around us, consuming us both in this world that both of us needed so badly. I had no idea how much I needed to submit to someone, and now I am positive I was not meant to submit to anyone else. She was all I needed, all I wanted. Her voice was practically life-giving to me. Every dirty word She used when we talked just made me feel more empowered and more liberated. When Her voice lowered to that sexy whisper of Hers, my body immediately responded, soaking my panties more than any of the stories. When She “held” me after a session, I felt so protected, wanted, and loved.

I never hesitated to send Her pictures – proof of my obedience. I wanted to obey Her. I wanted Her to command me, to take control of everything related to my sex life. With all the stress in other areas of my life – the deadlines and the creepy boss and the insane hours at work, I needed to just let go and let Her tell me what to do. She was very, very good at controlling me… especially my body. She seemed to know exactly how my body was reacting to Her words, whether they were loving or dirty. She owned me.

When She said She would be within a couple hours of the city, I prayed that She would offer to meet. I didn’t dare ask; She was very protective of Her time and it wouldn’t do to suggest to Her that She go out of Her way for me. The day She finally asked if I would be interested in meeting in person, I had to mute myself so I could squeal for a moment. I was so happy!

My fingers were dancing on the steering wheel in beat to the music when I saw the exit sign. Immediately my body tensed… or was that arousal? It was different, I knew that. I gripped the wheel and eased the car to the exit ramp. The hotel was just off the highway.

I took out my phone and texted Her.

“I just got off the interstate, Mistress. I see the hotel.”

“You are to park on the far side, under the second window from the left.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I would never forget Her title again, not after She punished me by not talking to me for a week. I had to take two days off work that week because I felt like I was going insane. I needed Her. I didn’t need anything from Her… I just needed… Her.

I turned in next to the well-lit stone sign for the hotel. It was relatively small, but extremely elegant. I could already tell that I didn’t belong here… but She definitely did, and I belonged with Her.

I belonged TO Her.

I pulled into the hotel parking lot and drove to the far side, counting the windows. When I found the second from the left, I pulled in. My stomach was in knots, but it was an amazing feeling rather than one of warning. I opened my door and glanced at the seat – there was a huge wet area. The thought of Her drove my pussy into overdrive. I’d need to clean that up, but not now. She was waiting.

I walked around my car to get my bag from the passenger seat. Suddenly I had that unnerving feeling that I was being watched. I paused, looking around without being obvious for a moment. No one was in the parking lot. Perhaps I was imagining it. I got my bag, put it over my shoulder, and took out my phone.

“I’m here, Mistress.”

“Look up.”

I wasn’t quite sure why She asked, but I looked up and turned toward the hotel windows. There, in the third-floor window – that shadow. That was Her. I knew it; I felt it in my bones… and in my pussy. The feeling of being watched morphed into an excitement I cannot explain. SHE was watching.

I don’t know how long I stared at Her shadow in the window. My triple-tone text notification woke me from whatever trance I was in.

“The back door is about to open. Come inside and come up to the third floor. Room 306.”

“Yes Mistress.”

I hoped She wasn’t coming down to open the door for me! I didn’t want Her to leave the comfort of Her room unless she chose to. Shortly after, a young porter came to the back door and opened it for me. He held the door while I slipped passed him into the well-appointed hallway. I swear I felt his eyes on my rear end as I walked a few paces away. Realizing I didn’t know where the elevator was, I turned back to him. He couldn’t have been more than 16 years old, but he had the stupidest grin on his face like he’d just hit the jackpot.

“306?” I asked, perhaps a bit too sharply. It was enough to stun him from his trance and bring his eyes up from my chest. I swear, a well-kept female body brought out the animal in all of them. He was practically salivating before I brought him out of his stupor.

“306? OH 306! Right! This way.” His mood instantly shifted. If he’d had a hard-on a second ago, it seemed I just threw cold water on it. He gestured down the hallway and walked a few steps before stopping. “Just take that first left there. The elevator is around the corner. 306 will be to your right as you leave on the third floor.” He quickly rushed in the other direction. Skittish boy.

The elevator was already on the main floor, so I just stepped into it and pressed the button. Was She really here? Was this actually happening outside of my fantasy world?

The ding of the elevator felt like a prod in my pussy. It was really happening.

I walked to room 306 and knocked softly on the door. There was no answer. I did see Her in the window, right? Maybe She saw me and decided not to meet. Maybe She had someone else in the room with her. No… no that couldn’t be it. We’d talked about that. We’d set rules – no piss or skat play, no blood drawn, no disobedience… and no one else involved. She would honor those rules.

I knocked again. My phone chimed, surprising me.

“It’s perfectly ok if you aren’t sure. We can meet in the lobby and talk for a bit if you’d prefer… get some dinner. I can still book the adjoining room.”

I knew She was giving me every chance to change my mind, every opportunity to say no to this. But I knew I needed this more than I’d ever needed anything before in my life. I needed Her. Not just Her voice and Her face looking at me. I needed Her scent, Her touch.

“No, Mistress. I want this so much. Please let your pet inside, Mistress.”

I was ready for this. So many times we’d role-played this scenario, and every time it put me in such an amazing state of mind… not to mention making me explode over and over again. I’d had a particularly rough week at work and my boss was being exceptionally perverted. My brain literally hurt from the stress of the week. I needed to escape to that state of mind – that “subspace”, She called it.

“Look down. Count to 10, out loud but softly, then use the key.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I looked down and saw the key flit out from under the door. I looked at it for a moment – the first sign of movement that brought another layer of reality. I picked it up slowly, as if it would disappear right from my hand and I’d wake up from this dream. I started counting.

This was another chance to consider my situation. She was so caring, so loving. From the stories I’d read, dominants weren’t typically their submissives’ best friends. But She was mine. Yes, she controlled my body. She was also a professional, a homebody, a gamer, a writer, and even a mother. Had we met under other circumstances I never would have known Her sexual side. I counted slowly, thinking of this woman who was so much more to me than my Domme.

“Seven… eight…nine……..”

I took a breath and closed my eyes. I wanted to remember everything about this night. I’d imagined it so often; we’d role-played it several times. Each time I came so hard, and She came with me.

“Ten.” I slide the key card into the door and turned the handle.

The room was dark except for the moonlight coming through the window. All I could tell was that the room opened to the right. My eyes adjusted slowly until I could make out a high-backed chair near the window, just beyond a thigh-high table.

I set my bag on the floor and remembered my instructions – the rules we’d agreed on for tonight. From this moment on, I would be naked in this room so She could play with me however She saw fit. Every part of me would be open for Her. As I took off my clothes, I could feel the sexual energy radiating from my skin. The more I took off, the more energy seemed to surround me. It was both liberating and exciting – I would finally be in a place where I could let it all go and didn’t have to be the perfectionist copy editor. It felt exactly like I thought it would, but more intense. I could never do this with anyone but Her. She made me feel like it was safe to do it at all, and I was so grateful for that – for a safe space to let myself go.

“What did I say?”

Crawl, you idiot. I still can’t believe I’d forgotten. It was something I wanted to do in my fantasies – a first physical act of submission in Her presence. The sound of Her voice pushed me straight down on all fours. “S…s..sorry, Mistress.” I felt so disappointed in myself. She must already be displeased with me. I stayed perfectly still, feeling every thread in the carpet on my hands and knees, praying I didn’t already mess this up.

Down deep, I knew better. She was forgiving. She was my best friend. She would keep me safe here. I relaxed very slightly and waited.

“Continue.”

Yes, I was safe. She would take care of me. I started crawling again toward the table, toward the chair. She pulled me closer just by Her energy, Her ownership of me. I may as well have been on Her leash. I WAS on Her leash.

“On the table, nadu position. Face the window.”

Something in me snapped into place. I can’t describe it. Suddenly I felt like every single thing I thought, felt, and did would be perfect. She would make sure of it. I had no doubts, no fear. There was nothing to question, nothing to second-guess. I was free.

My body automatically crawled up on the table. My legs curled underneath me as I sat with my ass on my feet and my knees wide open. My hands went straight to my thighs, palms up. I think I looked down as I knew I should, but my eyesight tuned out and I listened intently, every inch of my skin tingling and practically screaming with energy.

She stood. I didn’t see her stand – I felt it. She didn’t have to touch me. My entire body went rigid, waiting. Her presence slowly moved around me. I felt her eyes on my breasts, then my stomach, then lower. She was inspecting me, evaluating Her girl. I thought I would be nervous when this point came, but I wasn’t – not at all. It wasn’t my place to be nervous.

Then, I felt Her energy lesson slightly. She was kneeling next to me. My hands left my thighs, enveloped in Hers. I almost exploded right then from Her touch.

“It’s me, Katherine.” Oh my god, Her whisper. It made me melt. My name seemed to sing from her lips. My entire body went taut. “Just me. You can always stop this at any point, please know that. Are you absolutely sure?”

I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the love I heard in her voice. This was my best friend, the woman I called daily to share everything about my day, and she shared everything about hers. This was the woman who could make me harder than I’d ever laughed in my life.

“I know, Keeva,” I whispered. “Yes, I’m sure. Please take me tonight… I’m craving it, craving you so much. I need this, and I need it from you.” I’d never been so sure of anything in my life. Her patience and kindness had given me every opportunity to change my mind and given her the confidence to know I truly did belong to her.

Her fingers lingered for a moment. It wasn’t the touch of a Dominant; it was the touch of a lover. She stood and leaned down to kiss my forehead. Her lips on my skin felt familiar, sensual, relaxing. I didn’t quite expect that for the first time she kissed me, but she needed the moment.

“Hands up.”

Her voice was electric now, shooting through my body like a live wire. My hands locked behind my head without a thought. I pushed my elbows back as far as I could. She’d told me before that my chest – my “tits,” as She called them when she was in the mode – were one of Her favorite parts of my body. I could feel Her power pulsing through my nipples, making them grow longer and hard as rocks.

She came around and stood in front of me. Again, I didn’t see Her move – I felt it. Her hands touched my knees. Oh, my God, there’s the reaction I expected to feel when She touched me. I felt myself melting yet ramrod straight with Her energy moving through me. My knees immediately opened further.

“I see you’re already soaked. Have you been a bad girl?”

I didn’t think I could feel more owned by Her, but hearing Her say just the word “girl” made my pussy ooze.

“N..no, Mistress, no… I haven’t touched since the last time You allowed me to.” I’d been a good girl.

“Then why are your panties wet?”

My panties were instantly wet anytime I thought of Her – soaked the instant She spoke to me. “I… I’ve been waiting… wanting this for so long, Mistress. I could hardly drive the last 30 minutes because I was so distracted.”

“Distracted? By what, exactly?”

“My aching, needy pussy, Mistress. I couldn’t stop thinking about You.”

She loved when I talked about the effect She had on the intimate parts of my body. The dirtier terms I used, the more domineering She became.

I felt a slight pressure on my pulsing pussy…. and lost any semblance of self.

For the rest of the night, I slipped in and out of euphoria beyond description. I will share what I remember, but much of the memory is stored only in my body, not my mind.

She completely, unequivocally, and unconditionally owned me.