I was not always submissive. I once, not too long ago, explored my dominant side with a man a few years younger than me. It didn’t go well, it ended badly as predicted, and I walked away with a low confidence level. It was a crappy relationship, he was kind of a crappy person at a bad time of his life, and I walked away from the experience with little desire to return to being dominant….until recently. I’ve felt the itch again. I cannot just flip a switch and “be” one or the other with someone, I have to feel it instinctively, it is a vibe. I do not generally like men who are submissive outside of the bedroom. I do not delve deep into the Mistress role; there are many scenarios I’m just not at all into. I am merely a lusty bitch at those times….it is about my pleasure; it is about their pleasure and orgasm being under my control. However, I won’t do something that I like if the other person doesn’t. If they do not derive any pleasure, deep down, from it…I won’t bother. Even the bedroom-masochist truly gets off on whatever is done to them, no matter the pain level. It is a feeding-frenzy of cyclical lust – I get off because he’s getting off from both what I’m doing and because I get off on doing it. *grins* Still with me? Perhaps I may be doing something that he would not normally like if thought were given to it but because I clearly love it, he does too. We feed each other.
There was one other guy, and it was only one time. But I felt powerful with him. Wanted. Adored. He was into pain as much as I was into giving it. I told him orgasms would be 4:1 – 4 of mine to 1 of his (he was very much into orgasm denial and teasing). My favorite moment that night was one of pure, delicious torture for him. I had a horse crop, a rubber-tendriled whip, and of course my hand. He had just spent some time bringing me to 2 orgasms – one with his tongue and fingers, one by fucking me with a dildo-gag and using my vibrator on my clit. He had a cock-ring on all this time, and was wonderfully hard. As I dragged the rubber tendrils over his cock, and teased him mercilessly, I saw something like desperation in his eyes.
I instructed him to masturbate for me, to the point of orgasm but he was not to cross over the line, he was not to come. Within a minute or two he stopped for me, his breathing ragged, pupils dilated. I cuffed his wrists, and clipped them to his collar. I started hard, with the horse crop, making deliberate stripes on his ass. After a minute I came around in front of him and dragged a lazy flat tongue up the length of his cock, watching his knees buckle. Hard full-handed slaps across the angry red stripes came next. I kept up until both of my palms were stinging. Another long drag of my tongue ended with firm suction, his legs shook….a whisper of “please” let me know to stop, he was on the edge again. I unclipped his wrists, informing him that my quota had not yet been met. He needed to make me come another two times yet before I would end his sweet misery. And, oh yes…..for every minute it took him to get me there, 2 swipes of the whip. Anything past 10 minutes? 4 swipes of the whip per minute.
Every minute I sounded off his tally. Toys, fingers, tongue and enthusiasm got me off in 8 minutes. 16 swats. 1 more orgasm. He paused long enough to let me ride out the wave of contractions then dove in face-first to bring on orgasm #4. Another 6 minutes. Hmmm, what were we up to now? I quizzed him, testing to see if he would tell the truth. He said “36, Ma’am” – did I detect a tremor of fear in that answer? I made him count them out. Some rapid-fire; some long and drawn out, to catch him off guard. At 20, I paused. Rubbed the dripping pre-cum into his skin, watching his eyes roll back as he let out a low growl. His cock was a deep angry red from such lengthy arousal and the cock-ring.
Every 4 swats I would come back and tease him. A harsh deep kiss. A graze of fingernails up his chest, down his chest, avoid the cock! At 36, I snuck in one final blow to make 37. Unclipped his wrists and achingly slow I smoothed the condom on. Shoved him back onto the bed and I slowly crawled over his body, poised over his cock – grabbed his face and said “Don’t you dare fucking come until I tell you to.” Oh the poor thing looked like he was in pain – oh wait, he was. I rode his cock while I held a strong vibrator to my clit. He had the look of a crazed man, as he tried to put off the tidal wave that was building.
Such a beautiful sight…..
The moment I felt my orgasm building I stared at him, caught his attention and whispered “Now”.
I have never heard such a thing. A scream/moan/growl mixed with “fuck” “damn” and who knows what else, all so male, so primal. His body twitched its final release after a full minute of this; I climbed off of him and tenderly kissed him. So. Fucking. Good.
It felt a bit out-of-character to write this, as I’ve been mostly submissive for some time now. But it was still highly arousing to me, that evening was amazing. So arousing that I sat here with the Silver Bullet vibe buzzing away for the second half of writing this, and I came when I was done. And thank you to ScarletLotus who prodded me to post this, despite my reservations.