Jennifer's Surrender Read online

  Jennifer’s Surrender

  By

  Olivia Jake

  For more information about Olivia Jake, and a preview of her other books:

  In The Moment

  Moments Lost and Found

  Broken Rules

  please visit

  OliviaJakeAuthor.com

  All books are available for download at Amazon.com

  Copyright ©2013 Olivia Jake

  All Rights Reserved

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  “Man is free at the moment he wishes to be.”

  Voltaire

  I got into the lifestyle, as it’s called, rather late. At first, I didn’t understand why it was called that. Naming it seemed so manufactured, so self-aware, even pretentious. Of course, now that I’m in it, I understand. At least I know why that term makes sense to me. Because it has taken over my life. It’s all I can think about. It defines nearly my every move, every thought, or lack of thought, every action or lack of action. The lifestyle. The damn lifestyle. Then again, perhaps the term isn’t enough to describe how wholly I have fallen into it. Sometimes, oftentimes, it feels like an abyss. But of course there’s more, there’s something, many things, or really just one thing, one person that keeps me in it.

  I have no one to blame other than myself. I threw myself into this. No one pushed me. I went willingly and eagerly. And now, now I have no damn idea how to get out, if I even want to, or if I possibly could.

  So I think, if I try to examine how I ended up where I am, maybe I’ll find some answers. I know when it started, but if I’m truly honest with myself, the dirty, shameful, humiliating thoughts and fantasies began a long, long time ago. So maybe that is it. That’s my answer. It’s who I am, it’s in me and always has been. I should just accept it. After all, that’s what my Master tells me. And I know I should listen to him. That’s all part of it, right? To give up control and let someone else take over. Oh, those books, we all know the ones I’m talking about, they make it sound so sexy, so loving, so easy. Of course, they’re works of fiction and I, someone who makes her living in advertising, of all people I should know that I shouldn’t believe what I read. But I let myself get sucked in and now, like Alice down the rabbit hole, I no longer know what’s real, what’s fantasy, or more accurately, what thoughts are my own versus what I’ve been trained to believe.

  In fact, writing this at all feels like a betrayal. I wonder if Master found out, if he would punish me. And even as I write that, I feel aroused. Let me be clear, the punishment I’m talking about is not like it is in those books. True punishment, real punishment, by a real Dominant, hurts. A lot. Of course, I had no idea how much until the first time, and then it was too late. I do now. And yet I stay. In fact I crave it. I feel that I need it. It takes me to a place I never knew existed. But to most people, most normal people, it’s pain. For normal people, pain shouldn’t be romanticized, sexualized. And I’m not talking about ‘funishment’. I’m talking punishment for the sake of teaching me a lesson. The physical punishment is one thing. But the humiliation, oh God, sometimes he can be so cruel. Just mean. The things he makes me do. No, the things I allow him to do, yes, I allow him to humiliate me, debase me to the point of tears, these moments without ever even laying a hand on me, sometimes they hurt more than the whips. Sometimes. It helps me learn, become better, he says. I wonder if I’ve been brainwashed, and I think to a certain extent I have to have been. How could someone like me, a successful, professional woman, how could I allow myself to be treated the way that I do?

  He hates it when I torture myself with these questions. He tells me to stop thinking about who I am and what we do, and to just accept it. I think that’s just more manipulation on his part. Then again, I think he loves watching me torment myself, struggling with what I allow him to do, what I have come to expect him to do, and at some level, want him to do. I know that’s part of it for him, watching someone like me struggle with it. It’s so much sweeter for him. He’s breaking me. He knows it. I know it. I know he wouldn’t be satisfied with a completely willing submissive, one who didn’t question everything. There would be no challenge. And my Master likes a challenge. I am waiting for the day that he totally breaks me and wonder whether he will just discard me. I think that’s my biggest fear of all. Not the beatings. Not the public humiliation. Not the degradation. I still fear those, but that fear is nothing like the thought that once he’s broken me, truly broken me, that when I need him the most, that will be the point at which he leaves.

  CHAPTER 2

  “What are you reading?” Jim asked. I knew eventually he would, but I thought, at least with these e-readers, I could hide it for a while. If not from him, then at least from everybody else.

  I flushed, embarrassed. “Ummm, you know, just a romance. You know, escapist fun.”

  He smiled, giving me a look, “You sure it isn’t that book? You know I’ve heard about it. I’d have to be dead not to.” It was true. Everybody and their mother, literally, had read this crap. And it was crap. Not very well written, completely unbelievable… and I couldn’t put it down. I couldn’t remember the last time I devoured a book like this one.

  Sheepishly, I looked up over my reading glasses, “Maybe?” I wasn’t sure how Jim would react. We had been together for almost three years at this point, and our sex life was fine. I didn’t want him getting jealous or feeling inadequate, male egos and all.

  “Oh my god, Jen, it is! You’re reading that book?!?” He laughed, “So, is it as hot as everything I’ve heard?” Ok, this is a good sign, I thought. He’s not threatened.

  “Um, yeah, actually, it’s pretty hot.” And then I thought, I don’t want to seem over-eager, “I mean, it’s totally unbelievable and pretty poorly written…” I trailed off.

  “But the sex is hot?” he asked, clearly interested.

  “Mmmhmm.” I knew I was still bright red. Silly, really, that I was embarrassed talking about fictionalized sex with my boyfriend.

  “Wow, Jen. I didn’t think you’d be interested in any of that stuff.”

  “How do you know what’s in here?” I asked accusatorily. Somehow, it was ok for me to be reading it, but my boyfriend?

  “I’ve read excerpts online.” He said, almost smugly, like he was proud of himself. Then he got a glint in his eye, “Is there anything in there that you’d like to try?” he asked as he came over to the couch. He sat closely to me. Much closer than usual. Obviously, whatever he had read had excited him, which surprised me. He had never tried anything kinky with me. He’d never even asked. But he was putting it out there, so what was the harm in telling the truth. I mean, we were in a committed, monogamous relationship. I trusted him completely. And our sex life had become kind of ho hum. Maybe this would spice things up.

  “Well, um, yeah, kind of. I mean, if
you want to.” My voice had suddenly gotten smaller and breathier and I could feel myself getting wet. More wet, really. Just reading the book was making me hornier than I could remember being in a long time.

  Jim started stroking my thigh. It was obvious this conversation was turning him on. “Like what?” he asked as he started fumbling with the zipper on my jeans. I tried not to think of how he was so doing this wrong. You’re not supposed to ask me. You’re supposed to just take me! But I knew he wasn’t a mind-reader. I couldn’t expect him to be like a fictional character in a book. I hoped he’d read enough to get the hint I was about to give.

  “Well, I’ve been a very naughty girl, you know, not telling you about what I was reading.” I waited for him to pick up on the hint. No go. Ok, don’t blame him for not being into this stuff, Jen. Help the guy out. “And, naughty girls need punishment, at least that’s what it says in the book.”

  He had unzipped my jeans and was reaching inside, not doing much other than just indiscriminately pressing around, certainly not pressing anything that was going to help enhance the mood. “Uh, yeah, naughty girls do need punishment. What kind did you have in mind?” He asked trying to be as sexy as possible. I had to stifle a groan. I was starting to wish he’d just leave me to my book and I could get myself off easier, and better, than what was transpiring.

  But I tried to be patient, so I leaned over and whispered, effectively breaking character “You’re not supposed to ask me, Jim. You’re supposed to be the one who tells me what to do. You know, like put me over your knee and spank me.” Then I straightened back up and tried again, in full voice, “Sir, are you really going to punish me?”

  I could see Jim wasn’t completely sure or comfortable with this. It wasn’t that he was dense. On the contrary. He was one of the smartest men I knew, which is one of the reasons why I loved him. He was smart and sophisticated and sweet and an adult. So he wasn’t the most adventurous guy in bed. He certainly wasn’t a Dom, like the one in the book.

  “Yes, yes I am, young lady. Now come here.” He said as he patted his thigh and I laid myself over his lap. Once I was settled, he whispered, “Jen, you ok? You really want me to spank you?”

  I rolled my eyes to myself. But I couldn’t blame him. We’d never talked about anything like this, so I’d just have to help him along. I turned around and looked him in the eye and said, “Yes, sweetie, I really do. I want you to spank my ass till my cheeks are pink. Will you do that for me? Will you punish me?” Apparently the earnest, straight-forward approach worked. I could feel his cock twitch under me as spoke.

  His first swat was mild. Even still, it made me flinch out of surprise. His second swat was a little harder. And then the third and fourth and by around the tenth, I could tell, he was starting to like what he was seeing, what he was doing. And the more he spanked, the more he got into it, “Yes, you have been a naughty girl, haven’t you, little Jenny?” he asked tauntingly. He knew I hated being called Jenny. Jen or Jennifer was fine, but Jenny, ugh, I hated that name. Which somehow really worked for the little scene we were playing out.

  “I’m sorry for being naughty, sir.” I said, and I was starting to really be sorry for asking him to spank me. It was really stinging now. In the books, the Doms always knew just how much their subs could take, and comforted them after, but as Jim kept swatting away, I started thinking, he has no idea what my limits are, and he certainly doesn’t know about the comforting part. I was obviously going to have to direct this still, “Maybe you need to fuck the naughtiness out of me, Sir?”

  Immediately, his hand stopped. He may not have been a Dom, but he was a man who had a bright pink ass in his hands and a woman asking to be fucked. He didn’t need much more of an invitation than that as he set me down on the ottoman so that my knees were on the floor and I was still bent over, my stomach resting on the top of it. He got up, and I heard his pants unzip. He rubbed the tip of his hard cock between my pussy lips to make sure I was ready, and he could feel what the spanking had done to me, “Jesus, Jen, you’re soaking wet.”

  “All of us naughty girls are.” I said breathlessly as he shoved his cock into me and fucked me harder than he had ever fucked me before. I spread my legs wider and he was fucking me so hard that he pushed my pussy up so that it was rubbing up against the fabric. I started grinding on the fabric, working my clit as he rammed his cock into me and when we both came, I think it was the best orgasm either of us had ever had with each other.

  And that was how it all started.

  CHAPTER 3

  When I look back, there’s no way that I could know something that started so innocently could turn me into what I am today. I mean, it could have just been a normal couple in our late 30s playing at what we thought was ‘kinky’. How could I have known that such a silly beginning could completely transform my life? Or that I could lose everything so quickly? Everything that used to be important to me was gone. And I’m not talking about material things. No, I’m talking about losing myself. My pride. My ego. My sense of self. My sense of right and wrong. My opinions. My friends. Gone. It’s surprising how quickly they can go, or, I should say, surprising how quickly I could let them be taken from me. I don’t know if I can get them back. Worse still, I don’t even know if I want to be the old me. I can’t imagine going back to the life that I used to lead, not after what I’ve been through, not after who I’ve become, and what I’ve allowed to be done to me.

  Master reminds me often that everything he does to me, I allow it all. All of the horrible, hurtful, shameful, humiliating things, I go along willingly. I used to struggle, to protest, but hesitation leads to punishment. And even my internal struggles have mostly gone by the wayside. Mostly. He lets me know that I can walk away whenever I want, but he knows that I won’t, that I can’t. He knows that I need him. I think telling me that I have a choice is just one more way that he likes to toy with me. Of course, I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything.

  It’s an odd sensation, giving yourself up to someone, so completely that you lose yourself in them. In one respect, it’s ironically liberating, freeing. I am free from thought, free from questioning. Yet I am chained by this freedom. Obviously, I still question. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be writing this. I wouldn’t be trying to figure it all out. Master tells me if I would just let go completely, I would be happier. All of this struggling would be gone. And he would be happier too. I see what my torment does to him and I hate myself for it. It’s all so clear to him.

  CHAPTER 4

  I finished those first books rather quickly and soon graduated to reading more books about D/s relationships. The more I read, the more I became obsessed with the lifestyle. But it was all still in the fiction world, or what I could ferret out online. I was too chicken to actually pursue anything in the real world, but I found myself constantly looking up different terms, reading blogs, immersing myself into the culture as much as I could without really being in it. I was so turned on and fascinated by all of it.

  Jim and I played, but he had no idea what I was reading or how often. He also had no idea how hard core the books had become. And it wasn’t just that what I was reading was getting more and more base, I was starting to feel like an alcoholic, or a drug addict. I was reading during work, at stop lights, on the treadmill… so it couldn’t help but bleed into my relationship with Jim, bit by bit.

  Slowly, he started buying toys at my suggestion. A riding crop here, a paddle there, a couple of butt plugs, some nipple clamps… and I bought racy lingerie. And we’d play. As much as we knew how. I know, it sounds odd to those who aren’t in the lifestyle, but I’ve since learned that the Dom really needs to know what he’s doing. Just using a riding crop on someone doesn’t equal punishment and won’t make a submissive submit, much as she wants to submit. It also won’t necessarily turn her on. She needs someone whose control is part of who they are. Someone to whom control is like breathing, or their eye color. It’s who they are and they do it without thinking or trying. Just as
they must control, others must submit.

  As I was learning more and more about the lifestyle, I tried to share it with Jim, but I couldn’t make him into a Dom. Even as I write that, I realize how oxymoronic it sounds. Just like I know now that I need to be controlled, I also know that he didn’t need to control. We had always been equals. Funny, if I met him now, I’m not sure that would still be the case. In fact, I don’t know how I come across now. I can only see myself in the reflection of my Master. I once would have been disgusted with that thought. A small part of me still is. But I am resigned to who I am now, I think.

  But I digress. How did I get here? If I go through it step by step then maybe I can find a way out. Or, find if I want a way out.

  CHAPTER 5

  “For Christ’s sake, Jen, do you think we could just have regular, normal sex once in a while?” Jim huffed as he pulled away from me.

  “I’m sorry, I thought you liked it when we played.” This time I was being a naughty school girl begging the principal for punishment. Apparently, the principal just wasn’t up for the job… Even though I knew that it was all my doing, at my insistence, he went along because, well, hell, because he’s a guy. Ever since I started reading the smut that I was downloading daily, our sex life had become more frequent and more varied. It still wasn’t nearly as good as they describe in the books, but I took what I could get and figured that was just the divide between fiction and reality.

  “I do, but ever since you started reading all those books, I feel like just regular sex bores you now.” He looked down and then added, “like I bore you. It’s like you want me to be some big bad Dom and I’m just not, Jen. You know that.” His eyes were so soft, so sad. He was a smart, sensitive, good guy.