His muscles strain against the rope binding him to the coffee table and the sound that erupts from him is one of the most sinful sounds I’ve ever heard.
From the end of the table, I admire the beautiful welts just beginning to raise, the scarlet marks left by the kiss of my riding crop against his skin. It’s a powerful feeling, watching a person completely at your mercy, drinking in the adoration in their eyes as you hurt them just the way they need it. Until that moment, I hadn’t known there was a secret need to dominate buried inside me, but the right submissive brought it screaming to the surface.
My sexual history has never been particularly vanilla – I’m a practical woman with practical needs and I’m not shy about one night stands and friends with benefits arrangements. I like trying new things – it’s why I made a sex tape with a stranger when I had my sexual debut. Although I was game for pretty much anything, most of the men I was with were either dominant or not into the kink scene at all. Until I met the aforementioned man I tied to my table.
He was something else. Shy. Quiet. We met in the middle of winter and he was so nervous he could barely drink the cup of tea I offered when we got to my apartment. I thought he was cute, the way he reacted whenever I said something complimentary to him made my insides flutter. I didn’t realize he was submissive until late one night we were talking about the kind of sex we liked and he sent me links to a few femdom videos. He didn’t ease me into it either, I always appreciated that. I’m very much an all-in kind of woman and I love it when people are balls out upfront and honest with me. This sub was a major masochist and I was shocked when I saw what he was into – and even more shocked that I enjoyed watching it.
I must’ve surprised him when I told him I’d be willing to explore it with him if he wanted to try some of those things in real life. I watched and read a ton of porn and had him send me pictures and videos of things that turned him on. So we made a plan one evening that he’d come over and I would dominate him. By this time we had talked about this a lot, and had decided on the color system and check ins instead of a regular safeword.
So when I heard the door to my apartment open, I could hardly keep myself from smirking. This was it. Something new. And I was so excited. I had picked out a black pencil skirt and white dress shirt, tucked in. My hair was in a bun, and I had topped everything off with high heeled boots and a pair of shiny latex gloves.
“Take off your clothes.”
My voice didn’t even sound like my own. I sounded like someone who commanded respect, someone much older than my 21 years. I held my breath as I watched him undress, inch after inch of skin slowly revealed to me. He was already half erect from just the anticipation.
Naked now, he looked at me expectantly. “Get on all fours,” I said quietly. He quickly complied. I leaned forward and crooked my finger at him. “Crawl to me.”
There was something so controlled and yet so primal inside me as I watched him moving toward me on his hands and knees. He nuzzled my thigh and I felt my cunt begin to throb. I ran my fingers through his hair and tilted his face up, caressing the soft skin under his chin with my gloved hand. “Good boy.”
Crossing my legs, I caressed his cheek with the side of my boot and smirked. “Clean them,” I said, and he immediately turned his head and slowly licked the insole, making my boot sparkle with his spit. Watching his tongue slip out of his mouth and glide along the supple leather of my shoe was one of the most erotic moments of my life. Seeing this man on his knees in front of me, worshipping me, degrading himself by cleaning my boots with his tongue… it was as if I could feel every swipe of his tongue between my legs. When both boots were shining and he was whimpering, I rose slowly from my comfortable seat.
I led him to the coffee table and helped him up, positioning him so I could secure his arms and legs. He was panting as I let my eyes wander over his body. I was wetter than I’d ever been before, and we hadn’t even touched each other yet.
I pulled my skirt up slowly to reveal my black lacy panties and thigh high stockings, then straddled his face. “Lick mommy’s pussy,” I said, and he responded by licking a long stripe up my slit through the lace. I rolled my hips, riding his face, teasing myself until I could take no more. I reached between my legs and pulled the lace of my panties aside, granting him better access. He devoted himself to worshipping my pussy with his tongue, circling my clit and dipping into my folds. My thighs trembled as he moved his tongue in and out of my cunt. I stroked and pinched my clit while he did, my first orgasm slamming into me and making me cry out.
As I caught my breath, I turned my attention to his cock, generously lubing my gloved hand and wrapping my fingers around the base. I stroked him languidly, drinking in his reaction to every touch. I slid my other hand up over his stomach to his chest, taking time to tweak each nipple.
“You are my plaything,” I said, tightening my grip on his shaft. “Your existence is only for my pleasure. Your body is built for my pleasure. You were made to worship me.” His pupils were blown wide as he watched me stroke his cock. “Repeat it,” I said, my voice a threatening whisper.
His voice shook as he told me he existed solely for my pleasure, it’s what he was built for, and he was made to worship me. To reward him for his obedience, I leaned down and took the head of his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue and sucking. He shuddered and a long, low moan slipped from between his lips – lips that still glistened with fresh nectar from my cunt.
I sucked his cock for a few minutes, revelling in the taste of him and aroused by his struggle to keep from cumming too soon. Pulling off, I released him from his bonds just long enough to reposition him on all fours, granting access to his gorgeous ass. As I secured him once more, I checked his color to make sure he was still ok. “Green,” he answered, and so I picked up my riding crop.
I dragged the tip of the crop along his skin, down over his back, down between his legs and teased his balls with it. “Count down from five for me,” I said, rubbing the unmarked skin of his ass with the crop. Pulling my arm back, I brought the crop down hard across the flesh. He cried out, straining against his bonds, but he didn’t call red. Shakily, he said “Five”, and I knew it was safe to continue.
Four more times my crop met his skin, painting him with gorgeous welts. As I soothed the angry marks with one hand, I stroked his throbbing cock with the other. When he was calm, I repositioned him once again and straddled him, trapping his cock between us and grinding.
He began to pant and beg for me to fuck him, to take his cock deep inside me, let him worship me. His need was music to my ears. By then I had dripped my own need all over this shaft, so tilting my hips and taking him in was easy.
Digging my fingers into his chest, I rode him hard and rough, seeking my own pleasure above all. The only word left in my submissive’s vocabulary was “please”, but in that moment there was no sweeter song. My second orgasm was more intense than the first, my body spasming, my mind obliterated. And he followed soon after, shooting rope after rope of delicious cum deep inside my pussy.
After the noise of our pleasure, there was only silence in my apartment. Soft breaths as we both floated. I turned to look at my partner only to find he was crying. Alarmed, I quickly untied him and gathered him into my arms. With shaky breaths and a trembling voice, he thanked me. Thanked me for giving him what he’d so badly been needing. We held each other for a long time, first on the living room floor, then in the shower as we scrubbed the sex from each other’s skin, then again in my bed. Wrapped in soft blankets with soft whispered words and touches, I finally understood what it means to be dominant. What a beautiful gift it is to hold power freely given by a devoted one.