Submit to me, and I will unlock the hidden depths of your desires.

True submission is a gift that only the brave can give.

Submit to me, and I will unlock the hidden depths of your desires.

I met Allison at Steve and Faith’s barbecue. It was 3:02 on Saturday, June 15th, that I first saw her. She was standing there talking to Calvin. And I stopped, mesmerized by her. No, she wasn’t beautiful; striking is a better word—red hair, auburn red, blue eyes, and tall. 

Slender? Not exactly. Voluptuous? No, not exactly. 

but she was someone I knew was going to be important to me. Steve was standing by the drinks, and I walked up to him. “Who is that over there talking to Cal? I’ve never seen her before. Have I?”

“Allison? She works with Faith in the legal department. She’s the head contract attorney, I think. They’ve become friends, but this is the first time she’s been here.” 

“Ah, I didn’t think I’d seen her before.” I looked at Steve and said, “What do you know about her?”

“Well, I know she’s single, if that’s important,” he said with a grin. “Do you want an introduction?” 

I got a glass of iced tea and raised it in a toast, “No thanks, I can handle that.” I smiled at Steve and moved toward Calvin. “Hey, Cal, how’s it going? Did I hear something about Susie getting into Stanford?”

We talked about that when Cal introduced me, “Oh, this is Allison. She works with Faith.”

I introduced myself, and we continued talking about Susie, Cal’s daughter. When he drifted off, I asked her if she wanted something to drink. 

We stepped over to where the wine was and then found some chairs, isolated a bit, where I could get to know her better. 

Someone played some music after it got dark, and I took advantage of that to dance a little too. 

When the party started to break up, I escorted Allison to her car. She invited me to meet her at Temple Coffee on Monday before work to get to know each other better. 

I wonder what she means. I can tell she is, um, a very positive person. Not cheerful, but very sure of herself. I’m not sure I want to find out, but spending some time can’t hurt, can it?

When I walked in, Allison was there, sitting at a table. I greeted her and turned to order my coffee, and she asked me—no, told me—to get her a vanilla latte. I thought she didn’t want to lose the table, so I did.

I brought the drinks to the table, and we started talking. It was interesting talking to someone who wasn’t afraid to disagree. Before we left, we agreed to have coffee next Saturday early, at seven. 

I got our coffee and sat down next to her. “Kent, you can tell I’m a dominant person. But it’s more; I’m dominant sexually; I need men who can submit to me."

“Does that say anything to you? I’m looking for a man to submit to me, and you look interesting to me. Not to say I don’t have male friends who aren’t submissive, but that only goes so far.”

“Ah, ha? That’s pretty direct, isn't it, Allison? I, uh, don’t think so. Is this something you say to chase off guys that aren’t submissive? I’d be interested in being friends, but…”

Okay, friends, it is, right?

The following Monday, I got a text message from her saying: Submit to me, and I will unlock the depths of your desires.

We were meeting for coffee again, and I thought about mentioning the text, but didn’t. We talked about work and misogyny, and how so many men talk down to women. 

The following Monday, I got another text from her: True submission is a gift only the brave can give. 

When I sat down for coffee that morning, I ignored her texts, and we talked about the dog that rescued the baby who fell in the river. There was a video of the whole thing taken by a passerby. My reaction was that he videoed it so he could get on TV and not ruin his clothes.

For the rest of the week, I thought about the texts; was she daring me? 

For the third Monday in a row, I got another text from Allison, repeating the first: Submit to me, and I will unlock the depths of your desires.

That morning, I asked her, “What desires are you talking about? I don’t have any desires that submission can unlock. C’mon, Allison, you’re just making it up.”

With a smile, she shook her head and said, “If only it were true, Kent. There’s a lot about yourself you don’t know.”

“Oh, what is that?”

“Everyone has some submissive traits hidden, but with you, I can see them, and they aren’t hidden very deep. If you’d give me a chance, I’d enjoy unlocking them.” She smiled before saying, “If you’re brave enough, come to my house Friday evening.”

She’s daring me to come; I’m not an eight-year-old. Though getting to know her better? Wouldn't that be fun? 

I smiled back at her and said, “I’d have to think about it,” and laughed.

She gave me a business card that said Allison Shepard, Relationship Consultant, with her address on 17th Street and phone number. “Call me if you decide to come. I hope to hear from you by seven in the evening on Friday.”

Hmm, Relationship Consultant—is that a euphemism for a dominatrix? I wonder? She’s sure of herself, that’s for sure. I’ll want a whole weekend to enjoy submission. No thanks, I need to scrub the toilet that weekend.

I excused myself and went to work. Every morning, in fact, every time I saw the coffee shop, I remembered what she’d said. 

Thursday morning, I went in and got some coffee and sat thinking. She was there, engrossed in something she was reading, and I ignored her. By noon, I called her and left the message ‘I’ll be there’ on her voicemail.

Why? I still don’t know. The thoughts that crossed my mind went from ‘I wonder’ to ‘I’ll show her.’

Friday, a couple of co-workers asked me if I was all right, and I didn’t know what to say to them. When I drove up, I had a sudden fear she might not hear my message and wasn’t expecting me.

When I rang the doorbell, she answered, “Welcome, Kent. This is a big step if you’re serious. Come on into the den.”

We entered a dimly lit room, and Allison led me to a chair. “First thing to remember is that submission is always a decision. You have a choice. Submit or not, it is always your choice. 

She had new-age music playing, Kitaro, I thought. I sat there listening with my eyes closed. Aimlessly thinking. 

When I came to, I’d decided I could submit if it was something I wanted to do. That wouldn’t hurt.

She was smiling and asked me to kneel by her chair and kiss her. I stood and knelt by her chair and kissed her. I was enjoying the music, so I stayed there.

Dreaming, I closed my eyes again, and when I came to again, I was completely naked. It was startling, but she was caressing my back, and I decided this felt nice. I was too lethargic to protest. 

Not exactly lethargic; more quiescent. Aware but not concerned. I refused to use the word submissive.

Still, I kept hearing what she’d said: “Submit to me, and I will unlock the depths of your desires.”

When I shook myself loose from my lethargy, Allison led me into the living room, a much brighter room. We had coffee and continued the conversation we’d been having on Monday. 

After an hour, she sent me home, but when I got there, three hours had passed. I remembered an hour, maybe an hour and a half, but not three hours. No, not possible.

When I saw her on Monday, I asked her about it. She basically said, “Well, Kent, you seemed out of it at times Friday, but not that out of it. What do you remember about what we talked about in the den?”

We talked about it, but I couldn't remember much, and Allison wouldn't tell me.

When we stood to get to work, she said, “True submission is a gift only the brave can give.” Then she said, “Remember that and come back next Friday.”

I didn’t exactly agree, but when the time came, I found myself dressed and ready to see her. When I knocked on her door, I was remembering what Allison had said that Monday, about true submission. Am I brave enough? Is Allison right?

She answered with a smile, “You’re right on time, Kent. Come on in. 

I stepped inside tentatively, but she welcomed me into her den again. There was the same chair, and more new-age music, but when I sat down this time, she was rubbing my hands while I listened to the music. I tried to resist, but eventually dozed off a bit.

There was a sound that startled me as I was sitting there alone, naked, with my clothes on the table, nicely folded. My cock was limp, and I could tell I'd cum without even knowing it. I dressed slowly, trying to remember anything. 

I dressed, and then I went out to the living room, where Allison was sitting with a glass of wine. She smiled before saying, “I think next time I’ll let you stay the entire weekend, Kent. Yes, next weekend. You’ll have fun then…Friday at seven again, okay? 

I got in my car, but sat and thought before leaving.

What’s happening in her den? I don’t remember either time, but I was there an hour or more. She said I have submissive traits hidden, but that she could see them.

On the drive home, I was thinking about Allison and submission. I had to pull over when I realized I might enjoy some things—um, I didn’t want to think about. Every time my thoughts drifted, I turned them back.

The rest of the weekend I had to work to stop thinking about, well, obeying Allison. Thinking about what Allison might make me do made my cock hard. 

I ended the week with my cock continually aroused. The closer it was to Friday, the more determined I was to stay away from her. Friday, I left work early, thinking I’d take a trip up into the mountains to escape going to her. 

My thoughts were determined I wouldn’t go, but at six thirty, I was sitting in my car around the corner. All I could think of was Allison, submitting to her and wondering what it would be like.

At exactly seven, I rang the doorbell and waited for her to answer. When she came to the door and let me in, I kneeled in front of her. “Please, Allison.” That was all I said. 

She led me back to the den again, and I heard her say, “Get undressed, Kent.” I slowly removed my shirt, unbuckled my belt, and stepped out of my pants. 

You don’t want to do this, but I am doing what she says. Why? Because she was right, I need to submit. It feels so right undressing for her. One more step, just one more step.

I hesitated, but dropped my boxers to the floor, exposing my hard cock to her. I waited for Allison to say something.

She stared at me and asked, “Kent, what did you say when you came in?”

“Please, Allison.” 

I kneeled again and looked up at her.

I’m being torn apart. I hate submitting like this, but I can’t stop.

“What did you mean when you said that?”

I had to look away when I answered, “I want…I need to s-submit to you. Please let me submit. Make me submit.” I paused for a moment. “Please, let me submit.”

I heard myself say it. I can’t deny having said it, but why?

In my mind, I heard Allison’s voice saying,

“Submit to me, and I will unlock the hidden depths of your desires.

“True submission is a gift that only the brave can give.

“Submit to me, and I will unlock the hidden depths of your desire.”

“Kent, are you brave?” Allison asked me.

My response was automatic, “Yes, Allison. I’m ready now.”

Then I heard myself saying, “Tell me what to do.” 

She said with a soft smile, “Kneel in front of me, then.”

I found myself kneeling, looking up at her. “Yes, Allison. Of course.”

“You look perfect, like that, Kent. except youre naked, and i'm not.

She wants me to undress her? I? I tried to resist her smile. Her smile told me that is what she wanted. 

I asked her, “Can I stand to do that?” When I said that, I felt the conflict slowly melt away.

“Yes, Kent, you may.”

I stood, and realized this was right, undressing her, she wanted me to, and that made it right.

When she was completely undressed, I helped he sit in her chair, and I knelt again in front of her.

I felt a sense of satisfaction when I looked up at her and saw she was pleased. 

I felt her hand on my head, “Now, you’re perfect! This is what I want.”

She led me into her bedroom, and pulled out a collar with the word the word, ‘owned’ on it.

As she offered it to me, she said, “Are you ready, Kent. If you’re ready, let me know whether you want to put it on or I should.”

I took it, held it for a moment, and then handed it back, and said, “I want you to own me, please. Allison, I want you to do it. It’s been a struggle, but I’m ready. I want you to own me.”

She came over to me and put it on. The sense of peace expanded and filled me. I’d never felt this way.

I just kneeled there until she murmured, “It’s time to start, Kent. Hold out your arms, together now.”

She attached two cuffs to my wrists and kissed me, then moved and did the same to my ankles. “You want to submit to me, don’t you?”

“Allison, you were right, my need to submit wasn’t buried very deep, was it?” 

“No, it wasn’t. But now it's time to do it."

It was a struggle, but in the end, “The good wins.”

I settled back, kneeling, feeling, This is where I belong.