Pixie Isobella

‘Your dominant will get you naked. You will give him blowjobs. You will ride his dick. He will each want each of your holes, in turn. All your holes.’ Ella still can’t believe she’s signed up for initiation into a BDSM free-use club. But when she steps into the car of the man who will ‘own’ her for the next 12 hours, another surprise awaits her…

‘Ella’s Initiation’ contains consensual incest, M/f sex and degradation. All participants are over 18.

I’ve had my head down writing a new novel

I haven’t posted for ages. I’m so sorry! I’ve been ill and injured, and my real-life job has been intense these last few months, leaving me little time or energy to write. Plus every second I’ve had to write, I’ve been flat out on my new double novel, The Bimbo Bride and The Bimbo Wedding. Anyway, this is a little something I was working on a while back to whet your appetites. More of my other regular stories also coming soon. ❤️

Ella’s Initiation: Chapter 1

I sat nervously at the long table in the bar’s back room. Around me, a handful of other women waited with me. All of us were avoiding each other’s eyes, equally nervous or embarrassed. I glanced shyly at the woman across from me, and then I glanced away, just as quickly, before she could notice me.

She looked normal. We all looked normal. None of us looked like my image of a woman who would sign up to engage in submissive freeuse sex with randomly chosen men.

I bit my lip nervously, then forced myself to unclench my hands held tightly together in my lap. I took a deep breath and smiled. This would be hot and fun, dammit. That was why I was here.

The single man at the table — Mr Andrews — clapped his hands together once, and the small amount of forced chatter between the women at the table ceased entirely. It was a quiet mid-week night in this country-style pub and we were the largest group present in a nearly empty room. Luckily, none of the regulars seemed even remotely interested in us.

In the resulting silence, we all turned to look at Mr Andrews, the club’s representative.

‘Welcome to your induction, ladies,’ he met each of our eyes in turn, an impersonal smile of welcome on his face. ‘You all know the rules. You have all passed your tests — both the basic medical requirements and the tests of your commitment to the ideals of the club. Tonight is your final induction. After this, if successful, each of you will be able to participate fully in the activities of the club.’

I smiled nervously back at him, trying to force my breathing to be even. Trying to behave as if this was normal.

‘I stress that you don’t have to go through with any of tonight’s proceedings. You can leave now. You can leave at any time. But — if you do — you will forfeit your chance of membership.’

I realised there was a hard rock of nerves inside my stomach. I did not want to fail. I had been so excited for this.

I had first found out about the free-use submission club through an obscure kink group in my social media. The premise was simple. The club held monthly meetings. The female submissives would meet inside a pub or club, while the male dominants waited outside in their cars.

Each woman would be randomly assigned the plate number of a car. She would climb into that car, and that man would own her for the next 12 hours. She would be his, body and soul, his slave, his compliant submissive toy. He would use her body and she would obey him.

It had all seemed so simple, so exciting. Even doing the tests before the initiation, none of it had felt real to me. But now I had actually arrived here and I was waiting to be assigned the man who would fuck me. A random stranger who would have the right to strip me naked and touch me and penetrate me. A man who would tell me what he wanted from me and then make me do it.

‘Some nerves are to be expected,’ said the club representative, and a shy titter of laughter ran around the room. ‘It’s a first time for all of you.’

‘For some of you,’ Mr Andrews’ eyes rested on me a fraction of a second longer than the other women, and I flushed red hot in sheer embarrassment, ‘this is your first time in more ways than one. But don’t worry. It may be uncomfortable or awkward, you may find some parts of the proceedings embarrassing or even unpleasant…’ he paused and I swallowed, hard. ‘But if you make it through, if you please your dominant and return to me with his seal of approval in just over twelve hours’ time, then you’ll each be fully fledged members of the club.’

I looked down, firmly not meeting anyone’s eyes. I had never had much luck with sex. It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried dating. I had tried but it never worked. I always overthought everything and I was too awkward. I had worked out that I couldn’t be attracted to a man if he didn’t take control and I didn’t want any of the shallow, thoughtless men that I knew to control me.

So, after a while, I had just given up, and focused on my studies and then on work, always shrugging aside any men or women in my social circle who showed an interest in me.

I clenched my hands in my lap again, hoping that no-one had noticed. Mr Andrews and the other club administrators knew that I was still a virgin but I was too embarrassed about it. I didn’t want any of these other women to know. I knew they would look at me as if wondering why I was even here.

‘Any last questions, ladies?’ Mr Andrews asked.

‘What if it doesn’t work?’ asked a lady further down the table suddenly.

I flinched at the uncouthness of the question. We had been over this in training. It was our jobs to make it work. It was a free-use club where we agreed to provide submissive sex to randomly assigned men who were strangers to us. If we couldn’t make it work, if we couldn’t do what the men wanted, then we shouldn’t be in the club.

Mr Andrews looked irritated. ‘It’s your job to make it work,’ he said, his voice clipped as he echoed my thoughts. ‘Each of you. There’s a senior member of the club outside waiting for each of you to please him. When you step into his car — from that point you belong to him and you will do what he says. You don’t have to be perfect but you do have to obey, honestly and immediately, without question.’

He looked around the table at each of us in turn again.

‘They will get you naked. You will give them blowjobs. You will ride their dicks. They will each want each of your holes, in turn. All your holes, ladies, so don’t get into their cars pretending to be all shy or precious about some part of you that you don’t want them to use. As you know, those are all things they need to certify for your club membership.’

I looked down, flushing again at my lack of knowledge about sex. What in fuck was I even doing here? What if I couldn’t make it work, just like the last embarrassing time I had tried to have sex with a date? Or the time before that?

Mr Andrews was still speaking, his voice low but firm and unyielding. ‘These are the rules. Each of those men needs to certify that each of you is capable of meeting the requirements of a club member. It’s alright to be embarrassed or awkward. But if you have any questions about whether you want to be here, this is your cue to leave.’

The woman down the table who had asked the question firmed her lips together. I could tell she was going to leave. I didn’t even know why she had turned up in the first place.

‘It’s ridiculous,’ she snapped. The representative met her eyes clearly and calmly, and, after a moment, she shrugged. ‘Fine,’ she snapped again. ‘I’m out. You’re all insane.’

She stood, grabbing her handbag, turning without meeting any of our eyes, and walked straight out of the bar. We all watched her go, then turned back to Mr Andrews, none of us meeting any of the others’ eyes.

‘Anyone else?’ he asked quietly, once again meeting each of our eyes in turn. ‘There’s always one who backs out at the last minute, don’t worry. We’re used to this.’ He waited a long pause, before commencing again. ‘Well then. If you’re all in, let’s get started, shall we? Don’t forget, there’s a number of eager dominants outside waiting for each of you to please them.’

After that, everything moved much too quickly. He showed us the bowl with tiny, identical envelopes in it, then he passed the bowl around the table, each of us closing our eyes and choosing a seemingly identical envelope at random.

As the last lady handed the bowl back to the representative, I felt light headed. Oh fuck This was it. This was actually it.

‘You may look at your allocations, ladies,’ the representative smiled at us all. ‘Remember! No talking to each other until after the induction. You’re all submissives now. Nothing matters except obeying the man outside who is waiting for you. I’ll see you back here in twelve hours.’

I looked around, seeing the women rising awkwardly and gathering their coats and bags to leave. I did too, still feeling awkward and uncouth. Oh gods, I wasn’t really doing this, was I? But when I felt the expensive thick card of the envelope in my hand, I knew I wasn’t backing out now. I would never forgive myself if I walked away now.

Heart beating hard in my chest, I too grabbed my handbag and headed outside.

The envelope had a business-card size piece of card in it, with two pieces of information. A number plate, and a single word.

My heart clenched in my chest. Somewhere in this carpark, I would find the car with that number plate and I would climb inside, thus starting my induction trial. The word on the piece of paper was what that man would expect me to call him.

‘Daddy’.

I realised my pussy was warm and wet and tingling with need. Oh shit. I had longed to call a man ‘Daddy’ while fucking him for a long time. I knew that was really messed up.

I walked along behind the cars, enjoying the warm early summer air on my face. It was late, just getting dark despite the longer summer days, and I felt indecently wicked walking along, looking for a stranger’s car to climb into for sex.

Then I saw it. The number plate I was looking for. I stood still for a long time, my breath catching in my throat. Fuck. This was it. This was actually it. I wasn’t really going through with this, was I? But as I clutched my bag closer to me and started to take the last steps, I knew that I wasn’t going to stop now.

The car was an expensive-looking SUV, and I shivered as I walked slowly down the passenger side, my heart beating rapidly. I took a deep breath and opened the car door, sliding in to sit next to the man in the driver’s seat.

‘Hello, slut,’ he said, his voice deep, and somehow familiar.

Jumping, I looked across at him, expecting to see a stranger’s face. The face of a stranger who was going to fuck me. The man who was going to own me.

Oh… fuck.

It was an older man, about 25 years older than me. In fact, I knew exactly how much older than me the man was. Because the face of the older man looking across at me was the face of my own father. I swallowed, red hot embarrassment rushing into my face, down my neck and across my chest.

‘I…’ I said, unable to take my eyes off him. ‘Wh-what are you doing here?’

My first thought was that he had somehow found out what I was doing. That he had come here to stop me. I flushed with embarrassment at the thought of the ‘father to grown-up daughter’ conversation we were clearly about to have.

‘Waiting for a slut,’ my father said, surprising me, his voice deep and sending shivers through me. ‘Waiting for my fucktoy. You’re late. You took your sweet time to turn up, didn’t you?’

‘I…’ I said again, feeling as though I’d been hit on the head by a mallet.

My father was looking the same as ever. I had last seen him a couple of weekends ago, at some dinner that my mother had organised. His straight, dark hair was salted with white and grey, cut in a long, rough cut that looked roguish. A chiselled jawline, his strong hands. His piercing green eyes that I had inherited and that I was so proud of.

‘D-does mum know you’re here?’ I asked again, my voice sounding rusty in my own mouth.

‘Yes, of course,’ he chuckled easily. ‘Can’t hide anything from your mum. I joined the club first, years ago. She joined a bit later. They always send the men interstate though.’ He met my eyes and I swallowed sharply. ‘To maximise the chance of meeting strangers.’

I blushed even hotter. Fuck, this was awful. I was so embarrassed.

‘I’ll go,’ I said, my hand on the door knob. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You’ll forfeit the initiation if you go,’ my father said, his voice rough and firm. ‘No excuses, remember?’

‘B-but this,’ I said, my lips almost numb with nerves, my fingers trembling. ‘They’ll understand this.’

‘Get your hand off that car door, girl,’ my father said roughly, his voice a command. ‘If you get out of this car, I’ll have to call the administrator — what’s his name down here, Andrews is it? — I’ll have to call him and tell him that you’re off the list.’

I dropped my hand down to my side, turning helplessly to look at him. ‘But what am I supposed to do?’ I asked pettishly. ‘I gave them my real name. It’s not my fault they… It’s not my fault they matched me with you. What am I supposed to do?’

My father chuckled, an easy laugh that made me flush.

‘You’ll get your tits out and start obeying me,’ he said easily.

Please follow me for more stories! If you like incest and free-use themes, my novel Capturing Clare might be the read for you – available on All These Roadworks and Smashwords.

© 2023 Pixie Isobella