PetPoodle

“Go check your e-mail, hot stuff,” Mistress M sent in a text message.  I was at a restaurant eating dinner.  I wondered what she had sent me.  In came another message from her, “Have you been thinking about me?”  Of course, I’d been thinking about her so I texted her back a smiley face.  My heart was beating a little faster now.

She continued her sexy torment of me, texting, “Mmmmmm.  I remember the sounds you make when you cum.”  I was totally not interested in finishing dinner now.  As a matter of fact, something entirely different than dinner was happening beneath the table.  Same old story.  I was getting a hard on and was already dripping. 

I texted back with fumbling fingers that she turns me on too much.  She loves to hear what she does to me.  I explained that she had already caused a wet spot about the size of a silver dollar to appear on my grey slacks.  “Just the way I like it. ;D,” came her reply.  Then, “Show me.”  So when I thought no one was watching, I took a photo of my crotch with my camera phone and sent it to her.  “LOL,” came back.

“What’s in the e-mail?” I asked.  “It’ a shopping list for the weekend,” she said.  “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, baby,” she teased.  I was starting to feel like she must be pent up, and I made a joke about it.  That’s when she admitted she was very pent up and it had been two years since she’d broken up with her last boyfriend.  For a moment, I was wondering if I was in danger.  It was like she read my mind, because her next message said, “You’ll be fine.  I’ll be gentle.”

I told her my face and neck were feeling hot now.  “Good boy,” she wrote.  Then she referred to the photo I had just sent, and said, “My clit throbs every time I look at that picture.”  I was getting ready to respond when the waitress dropped my check.  I was eager to get to my computer, so I begged off our text session, and promised to let Mistress M know I got the message.  I noticed as I stood up that my knees were shaking a little.  Sweet anticipation.

Now things could get interesting!  I may have something new to write about soon, too.

My Mistress M (you can read about our time together in other journal entries) is going to be in town this weekend!  Her birthday was just a couple of weeks ago, and so I made a gift to her of my stories about her (and some that were about other dommes I've been in relationships with).

She had let me know several days ago she was savoring them, and reading them a little bit at a time.  The next thing I know, she refers to the pantyhose story in a text message and says reading it made her want to do that all over again.  "Success!", I thought.  My stories are supposed to be enjoyable.  I told her I thought it was swell that she liked them so much.  She came back with the question, "Anything else "swell"ing?"  

I confessed to her that there was something swelling, and that she shouldn't be surprised - she knows the effect she has on me.  This is all via text message, remember.  Referring back to how sexually turned on she makes me, she mused that she must be good at it, and then she said, "I think I'll make you cum in your pantyhose without being allowed to touch yourself."  I texted back, "Really?  You could do that?"

"Oh yes," she responded, "but it won't be easy for you."  I asked her what that meant, and she said, "What I mean is you will make yourself cum for my enjoyment without touching yourself.  And you will do so with a beautiful smile on your face and a 'Yes, Mistress' on your lips."  At this point, I had to come back with something, but my pulse was increasing, so I couldn't think too straight.  

Rather than responding with something witty, I revealed to her that she was turning me on so much that I was dripping, and she was making a little wet spot on the front of my grey slacks.  That happened to me the first time we met while we were just having drinks.  That elicited a Big Smile :D, and the words, "Your engorged & dripping cock rubbing against the nylon of the pantyhose... mmmmmm."

Then she dropped the bomb.  "I'm evolving a plan to do this on the weekend in L. A.", she said.  Adrenaline shot through my body and now my fingers started to tremble a little while I was texting.  My misspellings made her laugh, and she told me she couldn't wait to tease and torment me again.  She went on, "I will send you a shopping list soon.  Are you walking around with a big, wet, hard clit?"

I was (kind of).  I knew what she meant.  I told her I was stimulated, indeed.  "Good," she enthused with a wink ;).  Then, "Mind full of wicked thoughts...what will Mistress do to you??" 

(Long sigh).  Only she knows for sure.

One Night with Mistress M

When Mistress M greeted me at the door, she seemed a little more animated than usual.  She was always warm and welcoming, but this night she exuded a kind of knowing – as if she had a secret.  I had no idea what was up, so I just enjoyed it.  She looked lovely in her black leather skirt, sheer stockings, high heels, and a perfectly ironed, fitted white blouse that revealed just enough of her charms.  It hugged her bust and shoulders and made me want to do the same thing. 

We sat on the sofa and had a glass of wine.  She was sexy as hell, no doubt, but I also liked talking with her.  Pretty soon, we were kissing for a few, lingering minutes, which I always think is the best.  The bulge in my pants was uncomfortable already, but she made it much worse when she reached out and started tweaking my nipples.  That drives me crazy, as she knows, and she just loves to see what it does to me.  I was shivering at her touch, which pleased her, and she started to talk to me in a cooing kind of manner. 

She would ask me questions in this liquid, languid tone while fondling my nipples. “Do you like that?” she asked, leaning towards me slightly.   A breathy, “Oh, yes!” escaped me, and a waft of her scent replaced it.  “Do I turn you on?” she continued.  “So much! I can’t believe it,” I responded.  “What do you call me? “ she asked, a little annoyed with me.  “Mistress!” I exclaimed.  “Good boy,” she said, and smiled.  I always loved when she said that to me.  Her method was to ask me questions that she knew I would answer with “yes”, while she toyed with me sexily.  She would get me to agree to anything she asked in this way, and I didn’t know the difference.  I was eager to follow.

“I want to do something special tonight.  What are your thoughts?” she inquired.  My heart was racing, and I just wanted to kiss her some more.  I was breathing heavily, but quickly said, “Mistress, I would love to.  Whatever you want to do.”  She was still squeezing and twisting my nipples, and suddenly, I felt myself kind of surrender my will to her.  Even more than I had been already.  There was a heavy sigh of relief and submission as my body collapsed slightly forward, and the air went out of my lungs.  My strength of will left also, if there was any will power left.  I felt my head bow slightly to her in a natural motion that didn’t strike me as appropriate until after it happened. 

At that point, she lifted my chin, raised an eyebrow, and looked into my eyes as she sweetly tormented me.  “Hold still,” she challenged.  I knew it was a warning, too.  I took a deep breath, and sat up straight to appear strong.  She was still playing with my nipples, and it was all I could do to maintain.  What sweet torment.  My head cocked back, and my eyes closed.  I may have been still on the outside, but I was trembling on the inside.

She chuckled and told me she loved how responsive I was, and that I told her my innermost thoughts.  I nodded passively with a blissfully tortured smile on my face.  With one hand she reached down and gave my cock and balls a squeeze.  “You’re such a bad, horny boy,” she said, feeling my penis, “What am I going to do with you?”  “Oh, god!” I gasped. 

Then she continued with a couple more questions.  “Do you trust me?” she asked.  “Yes”, I said.  Quickly, she firmly reminded me to open my eyes and pay attention with a simple, “Look at me.”  I looked at her and blurted out, “Yes, I do!”  “Yes, I do, whom?” she coaxed.  “Yes, I do, Mistress,” I said with a twinge of dread for my forgetfulness.  “I’m sorry, Mistress.  I won’t forget again,” I offered sincerely, as my eyes sought the floor.  I quickly prayed that she wouldn’t get angry.  “Good boy, “ she replied, which gave me relief, and pleasure.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart, gentle is a theme for the evening,” she said. 

Not really knowing what she meant by that, I raised my gaze and looked into her eyes.  I was rewarded with another smile.  Then she said, ”You’re so sexy.”  I fell a little more deeply under her spell when she told me that.  “I’ve been thinking about your dream, my pet,” she continued.  “Really, Mistress?” I asked.  I knew which one she meant.  I had been on a road trip, weeks before, and one night I had a very vivid dream where I was wearing only pantyhose.  I don’t do that, so I was shocked by it.  The next day, after several hours on the road, I called her and told her all about it.

She answered, “Yes, really.  And it’s given me some ideas.  Come on.”  With that, she took my hand and led me to her bedroom.  Once we were there, she said, “Let’s get you undressed,” and she started pulling my shirt out of my pants.  I unbuckled my belt while she unbuttoned my shirt.  She slid my shirt off my shoulders, grazed her fingertips across my skin, and took an extra second looking at me like she was sizing me up, or something.  My pants hit the floor, and I pulled off my socks.  No sooner did I have two feet on the ground than she quickly snapped down my boxers, and had me step out of them. 

My erection was right in front of her face and pointing at her.  As she stood up, her right hand grasped my penis with authority, and she reached with her left hand to take a firm hold on my right nipple.  She pulled me to her and kissed me on the lips, intentionally pushing her tongue into my mouth.  She stopped for a moment, then deliberately stroked my cock, and remarked, “This is the way I like it.”  That was a good thing, because I was always hard like that around her.

She said she had something for me, and asked me to hop up on the bed.  From a chest of drawers behind her, she retrieved a little package.  It was darkly lit in her bedroom, and I had difficulty seeing by the two small candles.  They smelled nice, or maybe she was burning incense.  She stepped up to me, and ripped open the plastic wrap.  Out came what I could now see was an article of women’s clothing.  “Your very own pantyhose,” she informed me.  Surprise, embarrassment, shame, and resignation crossed my face in a flash, and she added, “I want you to put them on.”

“Oh, man,” I thought to myself, “you talk too much.”  There was no turning back.  She would be so upset with me if I balked.  I knew I had to do it.  She knew it too.  “Come on,” she said, “You’re going to love it.”  I started slipping the first leg over my toes, and carefully up my leg.  It already felt sexy, and I wondered how tight they would be over my turgid cock.  When I stood down on the floor, she quickly stepped up behind me and helped slide the nylon seat over my bare bottom.  She caressed my ass, and asked if I could feel how smooth the pantyhose made my legs.  “Yes, Ma’am,” I most certainly could.  There was a full-length mirror to the side, and I caught a glimpse of myself in it.  I thought I looked ridiculous, and even though I was turned on, I didn’t think she would be.  I wanted to stop.  The sound of her voice brought me out of my daze, “OK.  Next.”

I looked back over to her, and she said, “We’re not stopping there,” and she held out a gaudy, neon green, lace bra.  She smiled at me, knowing I was freaking out inside.  My body felt funny, like it was buzzing, and my skin felt fuzzy against the air.  As I moved my body, it felt as if I was moving through molasses.  I raised my arms and put them through the bra straps, heart pounding.  She turned me around, and fastened it behind me.  When I turned back around to her, she flicked my nipples through the fabric, and said, “That’s nice.”

She reached up and stroked my eyebrows once with her thumbs, then ran her fingernails under my jaw and down to my chin.  “Nice shave,” she remarked.  “Next time we’ll be shaving your legs, too,” then she added, “and other places.”  “Oh, god,” I protested meekly.  I knew she meant it.  I was glad I wouldn’t be in a locker room soon.  Being seen by anyone in the showers with no body hair would be more humiliation than I could bear. 

“Here’s your skirt,” she said, handing me a black, white, and red plaid, wool skirt, like a schoolgirl would wear.  I stepped into it while she watched.  I was hoping it wouldn’t fit, and we’d have to stop this game, but it had elastic in the waistband, and fastened easily.  “Sway your hips around, darling, and feel how the fabric brushes against your smooth bottom,” she said.  I made a couple of large circles like I was using a hula hoop, and she was right about the sensations.  “Doesn’t that feel nice?” she asked.  “Yes, it feels nice,” I responded.  “Keep going, honey.  You dance and I’ll strip,” she said playfully. 

I continued swishing the skirt around my hips, secretly savoring the sensation, and she unbuttoned and removed her blouse as she watched me.  I saw she was wearing a very special white brassiere with delicate designs on the cups.  I thought, “How lucky am I to know her like this!” as I admired her perfect, feminine curves.  Mistress M’s neck, shoulders and breasts are amazingly, strikingly, beautiful and sexy. 

She took me by the hand and led me over to the seat in front of her vanity, and said, “You need some makeup.  Sit down.”  I knew I would like this part because she would be very close to me, touching my face.  She picked up a pencil, and glanced up at me.  “Oh, my!” she said, “Your cheeks are so red!”  She smiled and reached up to touch my cheek with the back of her hand to feel the heat.  “Are you embarrassed?” she asked, acting surprised.  “Yes,” I replied honestly. 

She laughed softly, and said, “You don’t fool me, sweetness.  This is exactly what you want.  It was your dream, wasn’t it?  You want to feel feminine, and it’s starting to come out.  You can’t help but express it somehow.  Why else would you dream about it?  And you want me to bring it out of you, or you wouldn’t have called me from another state to tell me about it.”  She reached over and brushed both my nipples at once to reinforce her words with pleasure.

She continued, “And you know what?  I’m glad you did because I’ve often thought you’d make a pretty woman.  You know I love making love with women, too.  That’s why you want to be one with me.  Well, we’re going to make you so pretty, and sexy, you’ll be irresistible.  And then you’re going to be my lesbian lover.”

She kissed me once on the mouth, and started to draw in my eyebrows.  A wave of submission washed over me, and I kind of floated off while she worked on me.  I was there, and not there.  Or more like everywhere.  Everything seemed to be happening at once.  I was swimming in the sounds of lids coming on and off, things being picked up and set down, brushing sounds, compacts opening, then snapping shut.  Between sounds, my awareness was filled with physical sensations, as my face was caressed in a variety of pleasant ways.  I focused for a while on her warm, quiet breath faintly blowing on my skin.

She would give me gentle commands periodically to look up or down, or turn my face this way, then that.  I had the most extraordinary feeling of being cared for while I sat there.  When she was applying the mascara, I got a quick look at her face while she replenished the brush.  Time was going really slowly, and I felt like I was staring for minutes while I admired her eyes, and watched her lips.  Her expressions would change slightly as she made me up, intermittently leaning back to see how I looked.  It was fascinating.  I was captivated by every beautiful detail of her face. 

By this time, I was nearly swooning from the attention, and I took a deep breath.  The smell of lipstick brought on a flood of memories from adolescence, and I remembered when these stirrings first started.  I recalled putting on my mother’s girdle one afternoon, and how aroused it made me to feel the smooth fabric hold me tight like that.  “Wow!” came a sudden realization.  I’ve been this way a long time.  “Who are you?” I wondered to myself. 

Mistress M finished applying my lipstick and asked me to smack my lips for her.  She grabbed a Kleenex, and said, “Pucker up, and kiss the tissue.”  I pushed out my lips and she lightly pushed the tissue against them.  She pulled it away, and showed me the perfect kiss mark it made.  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” she teased.  “All we need is some perfume, and we’re done.  I’m eager to see what you think,” she said.  With that, she chose from her collection of perfumes a smallish, white bottle with brushed glass and a copper colored cap.  She removed the top and quickly held it to her nose for a whiff.  Satisfied it was the right one, she sprayed me lightly on my neck and shoulders.  It smelled really nice.

“Okay, look in the mirror,” she directed.  I turned toward the mirror and saw my reflection.  What a silly sight.  The makeup looked astonishingly good, but the neon bra just looked weird on me.  There was too much wrinkly fabric in the cups (Mistress M has an ample bosom), and my chest and shoulders looked too masculine.  The hair on my chest was way out of place, as well.  I felt stupid and Mistress M could see it on my face. 

“You don’t think you look pretty?” she asked.  “No, your makeup is amazing, but I feel foolish in this outfit,” I confessed.  “You’re lucky I don’t have a blouse to fit you, or we would be going out,” she said with a smile.  She had never hinted at anything like that before, and the thought stabbed me with fear.  Would she really do that?  My emotions started to well up, and my eyes too.  I looked at my made up, feminine looking face, and saw someone struggling to hold back the tide that was overtaking them.  For a second, I felt sympathy for the “woman” I viewed in the mirror, almost forgetting that she was I.

Mistress M saw my emotional reaction, and got very interested, asking, “Are you going to cry, baby?”  Her voice got all high and flirty.  “Oh, did I scare you, sweetness, because I want to show you off?” she cooed.  Lightly caressing my shoulders with her fingernails, she leaned into me and pressed her breasts against my back.  They were so warm and soft.  It was very comforting, but it would only lead to more emotion and away from me regaining my composure.  “Ah, what a pretty, sad girl you are, all full of emotions.  I love seeing you this way – so sweet and vulnerable, and sexy.  Go ahead, honey, let it go.  Mommy loves to see her baby cry,” she said. 

Oh, god!  I thought I was going to be able to hold it, but when she said that, I lost it.  Something about calling herself “Mommy”, and giving me permission touched me.  It was like the floor fell out, and I was safely enveloped in an infinite, warm, dark place.  It all spilled over, and I burst into tears, feeling my body being flooded with emotions, one right after the other.   I tried to stop it, but there was no way.  A lot of things had been building up for a long time, and it was all coming out now.  “I think you look so beautiful and sexy, baby,” she said as she put her arms around me.  “You’re turning me on so much!  Let it out!” she sighed, as she kissed my neck, and pushed her pelvis right up against my butt.

I cried about feeling lost, about feeling humiliated for being so emotional, about being out of control, about being so weak and turned on around Mistress M. I cried with shame for letting her dress me up like a woman and make me up, and I cried for liking all the ways she dominates me with all the kinky things we do that I thought would never happen. 

In a minute, the tears subsided, and I looked at our images in the mirror, side by side with her behind me.  My makeup was running and I looked like I just lost my best friend.  I moved my gaze to her, and her face was filled with a lustful desire like I’d never seen.  She seemed calm, but I could see was excited, and that her wheels were turning furiously.  It was the kind of expression that didn’t reveal any particular emotion, and I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or displeased.  She was just gazing at me intensely.  I reached for a tissue and blew my nose.   Then I reached for another one.  Quickly, she slapped my outstretched hand away, and asked, “What are you doing?”  “My makeup is running,” I said.  “Leave it,” she said.  “I think it’s sexy.”  That made me laugh a little.  “Okay,” I nodded.

She started caressing me all over, kissing my neck and shoulders.  “Oh, baby, I love your little titties,” she said, feeling me up, and making my nipples hard.  She went on in a sexy, low voice, “Don’t worry about how you look, sweetness.  Being feminine is about how you feel.  Close your eyes, and let me take care of everything.”  I closed my eyes and felt her hands move down over my skirt to my knee.  She slowly caressed my thighs over the smooth panty hose I was wearing, and said, “Doesn’t that feel nice?  Don’t you love it?  I do.  All us girls do.”

When she said that, her hands moved to my inner thighs, and I moaned softly with forbidden pleasure as she stroked back and forth.  “See?” she said, “Isn’t it nice and sexy this way?  My pussy is so wet.  Isn’t yours?”  She slipped her hands under my skirt and placed them on my crotch.  My penis was hard and straining against the nylon, and she gave it a full squeeze along the entire length.  “Your clitty is so big and hard!  Oh!  That’s so sexy!” she exclaimed.  She was turning me on with the way she was talking to me and how she was touching me.

Then she had a mood change and said, “Okay, change of plans.  I had a much different experience in mind for us tonight, but you’re making me so hot that I’ve decided it can wait.”  Standing up, she took my hand and led me over to the bed.  Quickly, she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it.  She was wearing black panties, but no garter.  Her stockings just stayed up on their own.  She hopped up on the bed, bouncing once, and said, “Kiss my thighs, pretty baby.  Take your time.  Work your way up to my pussy.  Come on, sweetness.”  I leaned over and started lightly kissing her creamy thighs.  Her knees were up, and her high heels were resting on the bed.  She looked very sexy as I started worshipping her legs.  “Ah,” she sighed.  I proceeded like this for about five minutes while she began grinding her hips back and forth.

I finally reached my destination, and started caressing her hips, bottom, and mound through the silky material.  Mistress M was getting progressively more turned on, and I loved it.  “Lick me,” she breathlessly ordered, and her thumbs went inside the waistband of her panties.  I reached up and helped her slide out of them.  Moving back between her legs, I saw the most perfectly smooth, bare vagina you can imagine.  The darker lips in the middle were glistening, and her whole pussy was puffy, and swollen.   You’re worshipping at the Gates of Venus, I thought to myself, and I leaned in and gave her one long stroke with my nose from bottom to top.  She moaned loudly, and I glanced up to see the rapturous look on her face.  Her juices smelled delicious to me.

I licked her enthusiastically as her excitement built, ever careful to be responsive to her experience, adjusting the tempo and intensity of my ministrations to the ebb and flow of the sexual energy moving through her body.  Bucking her hips up and down, I could tell she was getting excited or frustrated.  Just then, the blurted out, “Use your fingers!”  Without stopping my oral worship, I slipped my index finger into her very hot, slick, tight cunt.  I stroked her G-spot one time firmly.  “Two fingers!” she demanded.  Quickly, I withdrew my hand and stuck my middle finger in my mouth to get it wet.  Back inside I went, and her pussy was really tight now! “Oh, yes!” she cried out.  So slick!  Such a response!  What mystery!

I continued licking her engorged pearl, sometimes sucking it into my mouth and battering it with the tip of my tongue.  She was becoming frenzied.  “Faster!” she gasped.  I started stroking faster with my fingers, sometimes banging straight in and out, and sometimes stroking her G-spot with a “come hither” motion, as if pulling a trigger.  “Harder!” she cried.  I started stroking as fast as I could, still licking her clit.  She really started bearing down and her vagina squeezed tightly around my fingers.  This was it!  Her G-spot seemed to get even larger and got very hard.  She was moaning now, in a song of sexual delight!  Here she comes!  Her body tensed, every muscle tight, shaking intensely.  Then something was released and her body exploded into a serpentine, writhing, orgasmic motion that was as fluid as her previous state was still.  I could tell she was coming hard, and it made me feel nice, though I had to concentrate on weathering the storm without losing contact. 

This lasted for several seconds, until she gently put her hands on my head, signaling me to stop.  She took about two seconds to take two heavy, slightly slower breaths, and said, “Come up here and fuck me.”  Right on!  I moved up onto the bed and over her on all fours.  She smiled, and raised her head to mine and kissed me passionately on the lips.  Her tongue explored my mouth, then retreated, and when I responded by extending my tongue, she quickly sucked it into her mouth.  While she held my mouth to hers like this, she reached up and slid the bra straps off my shoulders.

She released my tongue, grasped my shoulders with both hands and pulled my chest down to her mouth.  Taking one nipple in her mouth, she licked it passionately.  “Oh,” I moaned at length.  She paused just long enough to say, “Yes, baby girl, I love your sexy, little titties,” before she turned her head to my other nipple, giving it the same exquisite treatment.  She was really turning me on with this talk, and the way she touched me, and I started thrusting my hips back and forth, crushing my cock against her tummy.  After a couple of strokes, I could feel how slick my dick was against her belly.  I was oozing super-slick pre-cum all over and soaking my pantyhose.

In a minute, she stopped and asked me to sit up.  I reached under the skirt for the waistband of my pantyhose, intending to remove them so we could have sex.  She said, “No!  Leave them on.”  With that, she reached into her nightstand and picked up a small pair of scissors with a curved end.  She told me not to move, and reached underneath me.  She pinched a bit of nylon together and pulled it slightly away from my body, then cut a small hole with the scissors.  She ripped it open a little further with her fingers and pulled my erection through.  

Immediately, she guided my throbbing cock to her still throbbing pussy with her hands on my hips.  Slowly inside I went, all the way to the end.  Back out slowly, then plunging in and out steadily, rhythmically.  We’re both nearly beside ourselves in not too long.  Mistress M was in a groove and on a mission.  As my penis moved back and forth, individual sensations presented themselves – the pantyhose on my legs, the skirt brushing back and forth on my smooth ass, the smell of perfume (hers and mine), the feel of lipstick as we kissed, and then … the firm grip she took on my nipples (which she calls cum buttons).  Her passion was rising, and she wanted me to shoot. 

“Yes, baby girl, feel it all.  Let me have it, honey,” she coaxed.  I felt an orgasm start to rise in me.  “Yes, baby, I want it,” she said, and she put her middle finger in my mouth.  “I want to fuck you everywhere,” she continued, fucking my mouth only long enough to get her finger very wet.  I was only seconds away now, and I’m thrusting as hard and fast as I can. 

At this moment, she pulled her finger out of my mouth and reached down to my bottom and under my skirt.  Her hand felt nice on my butt, but that’s not why it was there.  Taking me by surprise, she went straight to my most private part.  I r on my anus, riding up and down while I was thrusting, and she said in a loud voice, “Oh, god, I want to fuck your pussy, baby, let me in!”  She pushed her finger into my tight ass. 

That was all it took, and I started to lose my mind.  I could feel my cock start to spasm, and I felt my ass do the same thing around her probing finger.  I was totally out of control now, and a high-pitched squeal started escaping me.  It’s difficult to describe all that was happening.  I was coming like crazy, yes, but there was another component making things more intense. 

There was a feeling of being helpless, and naughty for letting her dress me this way, and I felt ashamed for being so weak and turned on by it all.  She was making me feel owned, somehow, while we were having sex, rather than me feeling like I was conquering her with my cock.  There was a reversal.  I felt vanquished by her because she could elicit certain physical, sexual, and emotional responses from me, whether I desired to respond that way or not! 

It was happening at that very moment, as she was eagerly finger fucking my ass.  “Oh, yes!  Mommy loves your tight, little pussy!  Pretty baby!” she said to me, over and over, making me come even harder.  I wasn’t even aware of my cock exploding in her.  I was totally aware of her finger in my ass making me come like a girl.  She was focusing all my awareness on her nasty, irresistible control over me, simultaneously evoking and associating (in my body/mind) orgasm, weakness, kink, feminization, and submission.  She was creating in me a craving for more.

I was spent in a long minute or so, and collapsed gently onto her soft body, while she cooed her satisfaction to me.  We lay there together for a while, kissing, caressing, recovering.  “What a brave an sexy girl you are for me.  I could get used to this,” she whispered in the candlelight.  “Dream about that, sweetness” she teased, as she kissed me for the last time that evening, “Goodnight.” 

She sat up and removed her bra.  I felt a twinge of dread at the thought that I might actually start dreaming such things.  Mistress M lay back down beside me and opened her arms.  I went to her, and she gently pulled me to her chest, and rested my head between her breasts.  It was my favorite place in the world – resting on her bosom.  Any dread left quickly as I realized how happy I was right there.  Dream on, I thought.  Everything will be okay.  I heard a few beats of Mistress M’s heart, and fell fast asleep.

Are any of you ladies good with dream interpretation?  I used to think there could be something to it, and sometimes I still do, but only about half the time.  Here's why I ask.

I've had some strange dreams this week.  A couple of nights ago, there was a full figured woman sitting on my lap.  Dark hair, shoulder length, highly styled (in a bob).  It really stood out because the dream was in black and white.  Her make-up was brash, but classy and tasteful.  The silhouette of her body was sharp because she was wearing a military-style jacket.  Quite sexy.  She was very gay, in the true sense of the word, and may have been smoking a cigarette from a long, elegant filter.  

The whole room was dark, and it was like we were in a spotlight.  I couldn't see anything but her.  She leaned back away from me, to my right, and must have dropped something because she needed to reach for it on the floor.  She turned her body and hips toward me as she reached down with her left hand, until she was effectively lying over my lap.

At this point, I look down at her plump bottom and notice she's wearing a tight, short, black leather skirt.  It had shimmied up her hips and over her bottom revealing her pussy to me, for there were no panties!  

After my momentary shock subsided (it didn't take long), I leaned forward and started kissing and licking her delicate feminine parts.  That's all I can remember.  Dream over.  Dammit!

Then last night, it kind of got weirder.  I was in a very nice hotel suite (for some reason), and alone.  I was just taking it all in, and feeling very tired because it was late.  The place must have been near a beach because the french doors were open to the outside and the diaphanous, white curtains were gently billowing inside, moved by the warm breeze.  Obviously, from the light outside, the moon was full.  It was nice.  I wanted to fall asleep, but I knew I wasn't in my own suite.  

Before you know it, the door opens, and in walks a very beautiful, brunette woman in her forties or fifties.  She looks vaguely familiar, so I feel relaxed and open with her.  I'm still polite, though.  Suddenly, I realize who she is.  It's Congresswoman Michele Bachmann!  I'm very surprised because I don't even know her.  She tells me she knows that it's late and that I am welcome to sleep in the suite.  The large bed looks very inviting, so I thank her and say that I will do that.  I turn away from her and remove my shoes.  As I turn back to see if she's gone, I'm surprised to see that she has started undressing too!  It's her suite!  

In the dream, she wasn't married, so I accepted her invitation, and we got in bed together.  I don't know what I was wearing, but she had on a comfortable and modest (not too modest!) white cotton gown.  That's about as far as we got, because as the lights went out, the real life sun was coming up and the dream was over.  I awoke in a quizzical frame of mind, thinking "What in the world?"

If someone can enlighten me about dreams like this, I look forward to your comments.

I wish I could find a beautiful, dominant woman that is interested in a lasting relationship.  I thought Alexandra and I would work out, but it was difficult to be on the same page.  She was unpredictable at times, and it made me jumpy.  I didn’t see any logic to what she might do next, yet I liked spending time with her.

She was very, very sexy, and I was in her thrall from the first night we met.  She was ten years older than me, and very well put together.  A real lady who had maturity, and seemed to know what she wanted.  As I became what she wanted, I got more and more excited.  I always get excited if I think something is personal.

She liked to be called Mistress when we were together.  It always had a profound effect on me when she made me do that.  I still feel it now.  When I was with her, and addressed her that way, I became calm and submissive.  I still miss that about her!

 Mistress was nearly as tall as me, blonde, with blue eyes, and voluptuous, in the true sense of the word.  She had great style,  and an overtly sexual air about her.  Her skin was soft and beautiful, and she always smelled so nice that when I would first catch a whiff of her perfume, my world would stop.  It was like being stunned momentarily.  Outwardly, things were moving very slowly, but my inner experience was racing, processing all the stimulation being thrown at me.  She was very pretty, too.

I was working for a bank, and going through a few days training in her city.  I had a hotel, so I invited her over one night.  She arrived wearing a trench coat, holding a bottle of vodka, and an overnight bag.  I’m not kidding.  I thought the trench coat was a joke.  She came into the room, put down her things, and took off the coat.  I was doubly stunned now, because not only had I been enveloped in her scent as she swept into the room, I saw she was breathtakingly adorned in a matching black lace ensemble of very nice lingerie.

Mistress spared nothing.  She was arrayed in choker, bra, corset, panties, garter belt, stockings, high heels, ribbons, bows, and ties.  I don’t know if a man can experience a more arresting sight.  She had done her makeup expertly, as usual, and a little extra eyeliner made her appear subtly predatory.  I showered her with compliments, and she had me get some ice and make drinks.  

We sat on the loveseat and started talking.  I was really enjoying that, as I gazed at her beauty and sexy attire.  It was getting to me, and she knew it.  She may have been enjoying that part more than I was.

After one drink, she looked at me meaningfully, and told me to get undressed.  I did, but left on my boxers because they were new, and looked nice, I thought.  Besides, I had some “swelling”, and though proud of my body, I felt self-conscious in front of her.  She didn’t say anything when I sat back down.  She just looked at me like I was joking.  I took the hint and removed them.  

Now I was nude, obviously excited, erect, and so turned on that I was dripping a copious amount of clear, sticky fluid.  It was embarrassing, because I had nowhere to hide.  It also felt unfair, because my excitement was clearly on display, and hers was not.  That always humiliates me.  On the other hand, I liked how she enjoyed the control she asserted over me.  I liked feeling weak before her.  I was docile, but very alert, inwardly.

Mistress drew me close and we started kissing.  Slowly, at first.  She was a very sensual and imaginative kisser.  She wanted to control even that small part of our interaction, and soon she was thoroughly exploring my mouth with her tongue.  At the same time, she reached out and firmly squeezed both my nipples and pulled me even closer.  That drives me crazy.  My mind and body were almost on overload when she suddenly sucked my tongue into her mouth and held me as her face-to-face captive.  I started caressing her breasts, reflexively, and our passion rose until she stopped to take some breaths.  Breathing hard, she looked at me with a steady, determined expression that made me feel I had annoyed her somehow.  I looked at her questioningly, as if she had spoken, but I hadn't heard her comment.

Impatiently, she put her hands on my bare shoulders and firmly pushed me down between her legs.  Then she guided my face to her satin covered vagina.  With her hands on the back of my head, she told me to start licking her through the fabric.  I complied, and  she began to writhe and moan.  She pressed my face hard against her lips, which created additional enthusiasm in me, more out of survival than desire.  It wasn’t long before her panties were soaking wet from my licking, and her secretions.  I smelled her scent very clearly, and could almost taste it.  I tried harder to get my mouth all over her mound, and alternately tried to fuck her with my nose.  She was in such a state that I was amazed she didn’t just pull off her panties and give me full access.

She told me to bring her to orgasm this way, and she was finally satisfied after what seemed to be at least two hours.  We talked awhile and drank more vodka.  I didn’t seem to be feeling the alcohol at all.  As we talked, she reached over and started caressing my penis and fondling my testicles.  That is such a turn on for me, and she always had the prettiest manicure.  When she took me in hand, my breath would catch, and I was easily led around or controlled.  She would toy with me, making me moan and whimper.  I felt so weak!  Aaah!

When I was totally hot and bothered, she stopped, told me to stand up, face the wall, and lean forward slightly, with my hands on the desk.  She instructed me not to turn around.  As I did what Mistress asked, she complimented my penis, told me I looked good to her when my cock was at attention, and that it was very handsome.  She remarked that when I was erect, it showed a natural respect for her, and her power.  No argument here.

I heard her go to her bag and unzip it. Suddenly, I was afraid of what might happen if I couldn't stay hard.  As she returned, Mistress said I had such a cute bottom, and caressed it lightly.  I laughed at the word "bottom", and shivered as she touched me, but it made me feel vulnerable, like a toddler, when she said it.  I may as well have been restrained.  I was already powerless! 

As she said things like that to me, I felt even more turned on, and more inspired to do whatever she wanted!  Right alongside that, there was a tremendous feeling of weakness, of being totally out of conscious control.  My body wanted to stay.  My rational mind wanted to stop, get dressed, and be dignified!  Modest! Or maybe vice-versa.  I get so mixed up.  

My gorgeous Mistress turned back and walked up behind me and murmurred, “I’m going to enjoy this.”  I was simply thinking, “Now what?”, and noticed it was strange I wasn’t cold.  I felt Mistress brushing something over my bare bottom at the same time she reached in front of me and stroked my hard-on, making it even more turgid than before.  These were slick, pleasurable stokes too, because my rod was leaking profusely.  It made her laugh.  She felt me shudder and stopped.  

There was a kind of pregnant pause, so I turned my head around to face her.  She said, “Don’t turn around” again, but this time there was a subtle change in her tone of voice.  It got my attention because it was sterner than before.  She asked me if I was going to forget again, and before I could answer, she struck my ass with what I realized was a quirt, like a jockey would use.  I jumped in pain and surprise.  It really stung.  I even said, “Ouch!”

She didn’t like that and ordered me to be quiet.  She proceeded to spank my ass with the crop by going one blow at a time, with up to a minute between strokes, which was sometimes filled with silence, or spent with her gently caressing the welts she was making, and talking sexy to me.  It was all about what a good boy I was for suffering through this because she liked it.  I’m a sucker for that kind of talk, but it hurt like hell.  

After about every five smacks, when I was thinking I’d have to quit, and I was about ready to cry, she would stand behind me real close so our bodies were in full contact, and reach in front of me and stimulate my cock with one hand, and my nipples with the other, until my knees were shaking.  Her perfume filled my nostrils.  Having this kind of attention from Mistress was bringing me close to climax.  The heat and pain on my ass was somehow different too.  I can't say what was happening. 

Soon, she’d stop and pick up that damn crop again and start all over.  There had to be three cycles of that, and then she changed implements.  Next came a ping-pong paddle.  I was ready to stop because I knew she'd marked me, even though she promised not to, my ass was already sore, it was hot and red, and it wasn’t that much fun.  

She sensed I was struggling, so she quickly turned me around, knelt down, and took my limp cock into her mouth and started fellating me like she meant it.  I got all turned on again, and determined to come right then and there, as fast as I could before she stopped.  My cock got super hard, then my whole body tensed up.  Get there!  Get there!

Ha, ha, ha.  She knew my body well, and stopped before I erupted.  She just stood up and looked at me.  In her heels, she was at eye level when I was barefoot.  I was right on the edge, and totally focused on her.  As my breath evened, I felt her reading my mind.  Something in me submitted to her at that moment, as if I threw up my hands and just invited her in to look at all my thoughts and feelings.  I was giving up.  There was no shame or embarrassment for me.  At the same time, she looked so hot and beautiful that I was still trying to shoot my load with my dick in the breeze pointing to her! 

Quickly, she took my arm, led me to the foot of the bed, told me to get on my knees and lean over it. She started gently and lightly smoothing her hands over my hot cheeks.  In a minute or two, it started to feel pretty hot, because she was caring for me and my sore bottom, which made me feel nice.  She was also rubbing her clit inside her panties and getting really turned on.  I didn't notice at first because my eyes were closed as I wondered what would come next.  She made a little sound, in excitement, and I started to watch her, but she saw me and exclaimed, "No!" in a firm voice.

I think she came, but I’m not sure.  While I was trying to figure it out, before Mistress’ throes subsided, she abruptly stopped what she was doing and started spanking my ass really hard and fast with her bare hand!  At this point, I’d really just had enough and I collapsed forward on the bed and started to cry.  She didn’t stop for a few more whacks.  By now, I wasn’t sure what to think, and I didn’t even know if I liked her anymore!

Mistress started comforting me and being really nice, and I could feel her pressing her breasts against my side and back.  I love that.  I started to get aroused.  My face was wet, and I was sniffling.  She softly said, “One more thing,” and reached into her bag.  I thought she was reaching for a handkerchief, as she kept talking to me like a child, and then she moved behind me.  Her fingers went right to my asshole, and she started massaging around it.  I was filled with surprise and dread, but turned on by her attention.  If I had a tail, it would have been wagging.  

Before I knew it, she started pressing a finger inside me.  “Let me in, come on, that’s it, relax, let me in,” her words started running together in my mind.  I silently protested, "No, no, that's so wrong!"  My breathing became short and fast.  I cried out in pain and pleasure when she put two fingers in me.  She got excited and urgent when she heard me do that. I was scared, and shaking.  She kept talking to me in her sexy way, and soon she was finger fucking me pretty fast!  I was delirious.  

I’m moaning really hard by now, and I don’t care what she does to me.  My cock was drooling like crazy, even though it wasn’t that hard.  She fondled my balls, then squeezed my cock to drain out a stream of precum.  She spread it all over my cock and started to jerk me off.    My penis stiffened in Mistress’ hands, like always, and when it couldn't be harder, she started finger fucking my ass even harder. 

Now she’s quickly, rhythmically stroking two or three fingers in and out of me in time to how she’s stroking my slick cock, and I’m rocking back and forth, moaning so loudly she tells me to quiet down or I’ll wake the other guests.  I can't really process that it’s four a.m.!  I try to be silent, but to no avail.  My voice got very high pitched, like falsetto.  I sounded like a cat or some squeaky ocean mammal.  When I started to lose it, she warned me not to come unless I asked permission.  She was always that way.  I always had to ask permission right before shooting.  Who can think to do that?  

Insanely desperate now, humiliated by my weakness, and at the utter mercy of a beautiful, overpowering, wanton woman possessed by sexual abandon, I pleaded urgently in that high pitched voice, “Mistress, oh, please may I come?  Please!  Please!”  It was pathetic.  I was really losing it. She whispered back slowly, “Yes, my baby, come now, come now, baby."  Then in a louder, faster voice, "Come for me, baby, do it, do it!  Ah, yes, pretty boy!  Oh, yeah!"  Tilt!  All sound was an echo, bright light and darkness flickered back and forth, my whole body overloaded, my ass got real tight, my penis got rock hard, and I just lost it!  Aaaaaaahhh!  It went on and on.  I came so much and for so long I think I passed out. 

After a few minutes, she started to slide her fingers out of my ass really slowly.  I started shaking again.  It felt so good, but so naughty and shameful.  Mistress sat up on the bed and slid her panties off.  I finally saw her pussy that night.  She unhooked her bra and shed it, then extended her arms in welcome to me.   I started kissing her chest, and sucking her nipples as I fondled her.  She had great breasts.  So hot.  She pushed me down, and had me lick and suck her to orgasm over and over.  I was finger fucking her pussy too, all at the same time, the way she taught me.   After that oral session, I was aroused, and ready to go, so she pulled me up onto the bed to make love the normal way until the sun was coming up.  I really loved fucking her too.  So sweet.  I felt like putty in her care.

I wish it would have lasted longer.

 Moods. I can't explain them. The moon is almost full tonight and it must be loosening my tongue. I'm not even Catholic, but I kind of feel like confessing. 

 I was invited by a very sexy Domina to take some erotic photographs of her. I had done this before for her with great success and rendered the best service possible on this second occasion with her. She had several outfits and we photographed them all. 

 Then there was her last and latest costume, which was latex. She looked gorgeous in it, and had a beautiful ponytail, as well. I took several wonderful shots of her. We were having a great time, and I was suddenly aware that I was nude, and had been for the entire shoot, at her request. It seemed natural to always do whatever she wanted, and I was pleased to please her. 

 After an indeterminate time of getting terrific shots of her, she changed her mood and attitude, and called me over to her as if to give me a creative suggestion. I was very interested to hear what her idea was and it was exciting to come closer to her. I honestly had lost consciousness of my nakedness, and her obvious power and sexuality. 

 Instead of telling me how she would like to be photographed, she reached her hand out to gently grasp my chin and pull my face close to hers. I remember I could smell her perfume, and thought it was wonderful. The moment seemed to slow down and go in slow motion for me. 

 The next thing I remember is her holding my face and giving me the most erotic kiss imaginable that seemed to go on for 30 seconds or so. Who knows? I lost track of time at that point. I was still in "professional" mode, focused on taking excellent, beautiful photographs. 

 That was really it. That's when it all changed, because I couldn't think after she kissed me. I was just in heaven, I was getting aroused, and then she took total control of me by grasping my cock, and asking me if I liked taking photographs of her. She wanted to know if it turned me on. Now, I'm a creative, focused individual, and I answered her honestly that I was thinking only of how to make her look beautiful in these photographs. 

 She told me I wasn't telling her the truth because I was obviously getting hard as she deliberately stroked me. It was totally unfair, of course, but I could only hold the camera at that point because I was completely in her thrall. 

 She was incredibly sexy, to begin with, and was very attractive in her latex, as she pulled me very close to her by my most private part, that gives me irresistible pleasure. She held me absolutely next to her as she stroked me with one hand, and taunted and teased me sweetly with her words. At this point, I lost all professionalism and semblance of control, and she seemed to delight in handling me almost like a puppet. 

 At one point, seemingly right at the moment my mind surrendered to the idea of her being in total physical and sexual control of me (and I was fighting it because I thought I was there to take pictures), I was almost overwhelmed with overpowering sexual desire and simultaneous humiliation for being so weak in her hands. I almost wanted to scream at the realization of the psychosexual truth. I'm not sure how else to describe it. 

 So, I'm holding an expensive camera in one hand, straddling the leg of a domina, while she sits on a high stool and strokes my extremely hard penis and tells me what a slut I am for being so turned on and unprofessional! It was totally unfair! And I was totally turned on. 

 This next part is totally fuzzy, but it could have been sensory overload if it really happened. Otherwise, it's like a dream, except really memorable. She has a real tight grip on my cock with one hand and she pulls me right up next to her. I'm already so turned on that my legs are shaking, and she laughs at me for it. 

 She deliberately strokes my impossibly large erection, while tweaking one nipple with her fingers, and sucking on my other one. I swear, this drives me nearly out of my mind. I think I'm going to come buckets in a second or two. 

 Suddenly, she stops playing with my cock, and her hands are teasing my nipples and she's kissing me on the mouth like no woman ever kissed me before. I'm having such an intense sexual experience that I think I was moaning out loud, but that can't be possible. 

 I'm like putty in her hands at this point, and then something happened that is hard to explain. She starts telling me in an impossibly sexy voice that I have such a pretty pussy, and she wants to fuck it! She's stroking my cock again while this is happening, so my protest that I don't have a pussy soon turns from intelligible English to a series of "aahhs" and "oohhs" while she asserts that she's right, or I wouldn't be so co-operative. I think I argued for a while, but seem to remember passionately agreeing with her that I loved her to touch my pussy! I know. It's crazy. 

 Seriously, now everything is a blur. She's telling me what a nice pussy I have, and I'm agreeing with her when it's verbally possible, because she's sensually pushing two fingers in and out of my mouth. I'm sucking her fingers like they're sexual organs at this point, but while I'm doing it, my mind wonders, WTF?! Still, I'm so turned on by her that I cannot stop. 

 OMG. I can't believe I haven't passed out by now. I had to have been sleeping already. So now an amazingly gorgeous, and sexy woman has one hand on my erect cock, and while she is driving me crazy, she whispers that my cock is like a giant clitoris, and that I would be so sexy as a woman that she would automatically come in her panties. As I hear it, I cannot fathom that she's telling me the truth, but she's turning me on so much that I don't register anything unusual about what she's saying, and I'm actually agreeing with her every word. 

 I think she said something next, but I cannot remember what it was. All I remember is her gazing into my eyes, while she stroked my cock, slowly pulling her slick fingers out of my mouth, and smiling at me like she knew something I didn't. 

 That's when she quickly gripped my penis tightly, pulled me right next to her, sucked my right nipple into her mouth, and quickly, but not roughly, inserted two fingers into my "pussy." I was so surprised and sensually overwhelmed that I don't even remember thinking. It was all like, "Oh, my God!" 

 Now, she looked into my eyes, and knowingly started finger fucking me while she was stroking my cock at the same time, and telling me how tight my "pussy" was and how nice and big my "clit" was. 

I think I actually argued, and told her I didn't have either one of those anatomical attributes, but my protests did not last long. All I remember then is that she was telling me how sexy and feminine I was, and how it turned her on so much, and that she wanted me to totally lose control, and come really hard for her - harder than I have ever come before. 

 It was ridiculous. I heard myself saying to her every perverted thing she told me to, and when she "gave permission" for me to have an orgasm, I came like fucking crazy while she was finger fucking my ass, and fondling my "clit." I moaned out loud like crazy while I ejaculated all over her beautiful red latex, and was filled with a feeling of shame, humiliation, and sexual weakness. 

 She held me close for several minutes afterwards, and I felt amazingly naked (I was), vulnerable, and calm, after my heart stopped racing. Then she kissed me really tenderly on the mouth and had me lick all my jizz off her latex, which took several minutes. I already felt so humiliated that licking my cum off her costume was kind of natural, and I sort of knew I would have to do that. When I was done, she looked at me and smiled, showing her approval, which elicited in me one of the most intense feelings of satisfaction that I have known. 

 It was very spontaneous, unexpected (for me), and profound. I got all turned on again after that, and spent several hours pleasing her in every way imaginable. Aaah.