DOMINANCE | SUBMISSION | WILL | SHORT STORY | PART 1 OF 2

Her Iron Will Dominated All | Part 1

No one could help but submit to her

Her name was Luciferia Morningstar and she was as fierce as they come. A highly self-confident woman who could make anyone submit or yield with a mere glance. Even supposed Doms and Dommes stood no chance against her.

Her will was a force of nature. Some weak-willed people she glared at could literally feel a kind of shock wave when she turned her gaze on them. And when she was really pissed noses started bleeding and a couple once even had a mild stroke.

She inspired respect, awe and admiration. Even fear. Some of the more sensitive ones felt bloodlust coming from her. One swore he saw her fangs grow one night, which scared the living crap out of him. That one was a horror writer though, so his account is less reliable.

“I am the Queen of the Night, the Daughter of a Thousand Suns, and I demand to be treated that way.” she once said to a group of dazzled businessmen at a posh club. And she was.

She bypassed all queues of nightclubs, porters bowed to her in respect, pro Domme women took notes from her, and wherever she went she was usually accompanied by two slaves who were at her beck and call.

She was tired of solely men, so she liked to keep both a man and a woman slave. She led them on and they loyally followed, either by a visible or an invisible chain.

However, what no one knew was that her fantasy, her ultimate wish, was to find someone stronger than her to submit. To find someone she could trust and surrender, fully let go in his arms. She looked for a man, since she doubted she could ever find a woman stronger than her.

She preferred men over women, though she considered women a refreshing testosterone break. They usually gave better head than men. They were also more patient and tender with her netherbits.

However they smelled and tasted too much like her, tenderness was overrated and she liked giving head to men much more than muff-diving. But she treated already submitted slaves and subs, which barely excited her.

She tended to do this, rarely, as a reward for their good behavior. Like giving a treat to a lap dog for learning a new trick. Boring and tedious, the BJ analogue of washing the dishes and barely titillating.

She had looked hard but could not find a man who was both stronger than her to resist her forceful will and trustworthy enough to fully surrender to him. Occasionally she found those two types but never both in the same man.

That changed two weeks ago, at the Pandæmonium club in Berlin. Luciferia felt his strong will the moment she entered the club like a Queen, but could not at first spot him. She got super excited and looked around for its source. Discreetly, of course.

Then, all of a sudden, she sensed two eyes gazing at her from behind. She literally froze and could not move. She felt like a mark targeted by two strong lasers about to shoot their payload. She knew before turning around it was him.

She managed to pull herself together, had the rest of her fine smokey single malt in one gulp and slowly turned to look for the source of that power. The man she saw made her knees tremble, while her kitten started to cry honey dew.

His body language yelled self-confidence — though not over-confidence —and he kept gazing at her. No blinking, no averting his look, nothing. He stood there like a statue, clearly owning all the space around him. A mild, perhaps sly, smile was drawn on his lips and eyes.

He was even illuminated by extra light, somehow, though Pandæmonium is quite a dark club. Luciferia felt the presence and pressure of his will deep in the marrow of her bones. She tried to resist it, to fight back, to make him yield, but it was impossible. That man was as strong as men can be made.

She almost fainted during their short battle of wills, and the Lagavulin 25 in her veins did not help either. She could not help it and she let go. She averted her eyes. In fact she lowered them humbly, a rarity for her. An unconscious body cue of respect perhaps.

She was finally able to breath, now that she was free of his indomitable will, and waited for him to approach her. But he didn’t. When she looked for him again he was gone. She thought whether he was a strong sub who looked for a woman stronger than him to submit.

She looked around for him but he was nowhere to be found. ‘Crap!’ she thought. ‘There goes nothing. Did he lose interest? Who was that guy?!’

She ordered another drink from the bar feeling rather disappointed. She had let her two slaves hook up with their mates that night. She wanted to be on her own.

Then, when she was about to pay…

“That drink is on me if that’s OK with you.” the man showed up out of nowhere and was already sitting at her blind spot. She neither saw nor felt him coming. ‘So he can conceal his presence too?’ she thought. ‘This is getting even more interesting!’

“I do not usually accept drinks from strangers Mr…?”

“Alucard. Morden Alucard. Enchanté Ms…?”

“But for you Mr Alucard I’ll make an exception. Thank you. Morningstar. Luciferia Morningstar.”

They both laughed with their Bond name play.

“Now that we know each other’s names we’re no longer strangers are we?” he joked. “You may call me Morden if that’s all right with you.”

He sat on the bar stool like it was an extension of his body. He did not appear to be cocky but his self-confidence was off the charts. The line between the two can be blurred but Luciferia could tell.

Cocky men are deep down insecure. Morden did not appear to have an insecure bone in his body. And that turned her on big time. She red-lined. She thanked the goddesses she wore proper knickers that night, otherwise her honey dew would have already reached her knees.

“Fine Morden, you may call me Luciferia then.” she smiled and slightly blushed, another rarity. She already dreamed about all the possible ways he would fuck her. Would he be tender? Rough? Raw? A mix? She did not care, she just wanted to service him fully and surrender to him.

Trust could be tested later, if ‘later’ even occurred. At that moment she was just horny AF. She hadn’t had a good lay with a real man in over a decade. Her lust started getting the better of her. Morden however, though he must have sensed it, remained cool as a cucumber.

He looked around 40, in a fine suit — ‘Armani? No, probably Tom Ford’ — matched with the perfect silk tie. His brown hair was short, he was well shaved and smelled deliciously, though she could not tell what his perfume was.

But those eyes of his… Green? No. Brown? Neither. Dark honey sprinkled with some green? Perhaps. His gaze was overpowering. It was as if he never blinked. Surely he did sometimes, but when those eyes looked at you it was like their were locking on a target and would not let go until said target yielded.

Luciferia wore a fine black dress with black lace sleeves that accentuated her dominant presence. A rather short one, above her knees. She thought black suited her caramel skin well. But that caramel had started to melt…

“Where are you from Morden?” they spoke in English but she was unsure about his accent. Scottish? Irish?

“I’m from Surrey, outside of Glasgow, but I’ve been around. How about you? Let me guess, London?”

“Lucky or not so lucky guess… I guess. My accent is all over the place right? I’m from Croydon but I’ve lived in Berlin for a spell. I like it here.” she giggled like a high school girl on her first date.

She was tired of small talk though and wanted to get laid ASAP. She already knew this was going to be a great lay. She usually took the lead, boldly suggesting ‘to go somewhere quiet’ first.

She was a bit worried she might steal the initiative from him. However Morden did not look like a man who was going to get castrated by that so she dared do it.

“Would you like to go somewhere private?” “Would you like to go somewhere private?”

Their timing was almost in perfect sync. They looked at each other for a few moments and laughed. No more small talk it is then. He invited her to his hotel suite, ‘for one more drink.’

In a few minutes they were at Friedrichstraße, next to the Spree River. Luciferia’s blood was practically boiling from lust. She would get laid in a proper suite too, in Hotel Meliã.

Morden opened the mini bar and took two small bottles of Johnny Green.

“It’s not Lagavulin 25 but it’s not too shabby either right?” he said.

“Fuck Lagavulin, I like Johnny Green. Besides I doubt I’ll drink the entire thing. I’ve had enough drinks tonight.” she was eagerly waiting for him to make a move, but he took his time.

“Did you have something else in mind?” he grinned slyly.

‘The little bastard…’ she thought ‘He enjoys tormenting me! I enjoy it too though!’

“What do you think Morden? We did not really come here to drink right?”

“I want to hear you say it Lucy.” he kept smiling.

“Say what?”

“Say it. No, beg for it.”

“You little fucke… fine. Can you please fuck me now Morden? I am hornier than a wild rose on steroids.” she almost pleaded.

“Quite poetic. Show me then.”

“Show you what?”

“You know what. How wet are you. I could smell it from the club already.”

She blushed like a beet. No man had made her truly blush for many years.

“You… you want me to…”

“Yes I do. In fact I insist.” he opened his bag and picked a leather flogger of high quality. Definitely handmade. An item Luciferia commonly wielded for her subs and slaves. She wondered what else that bag of his contained.

Do you wonder too? Read Part 2 to find out…

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