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| Oh, Lord. You've no idea how badly I crave being made to please. While I've been a sexual sub my whole life, I've still got limits I desperately want tested. I've never served a Man, for instance... sounds scary as hell to me. I'm shaking just a little with delicious fear right now as I type. Please don't get me wrong. I love being completely dominated by a powerful woman. I am a slave to pain, humiliation, control, begging, forced chastity, bondage, and more and more.
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Or maybe it would just be fast, dirty, and brutish. |
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As I've said, I don't have any concrete wishlist in mind. No fetish that I so crave I'd feel disappointed to miss it, no act I'd expect a Dominant to indulge me with. I honestly find the deepest joy and biggest thrills in being made to do that which most thrills and turns on my Dominant.
I have years and years of experience serving women, I know my submissive drive intimately. I know how it works.
But now that I'm seeking a dominant man, I must admit to being carried away by possible scenarios. As I've said earlier, it isn't that I'm turned on by men per se, but that I relish a new level of submission in being invited to be abased for the pleasure of a dominant man makes me tingle with anticipation of new and stark depths of submission.
While I am truly not trying to beg for this scenario - or any other - I will share a vision that's come to me. Anyone reading this, just take it for what it is... a daydream. I would much rather have you introduce me to YOUR reality than present this as a template for what I desire...
I can imagine a scene in which i'm in your presence. I'll start with the first meeting. I don't care what you look like, not at all. I find myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame whether you're handsome or plain, young or old, fit or overweight. What draws me is your determined power, your palbable aura of dominance. The fact that you know beyond all doubt you are in control.
My stomach is a mess of butterflies, I may well be in a cold sweat. It took all my courage and determination to cross the threshold to an actual meeting. We're in a place of your choosing, let's say your regular place. My throat is tight, it's difficult to speak.
You invite me in, your eyes appraising me. You find me suitably possessed of potential. I dare not return the appraising gaze, but gather what I can about you discreetly. I ache to begin; I hope you send me home immediately. Certainly, I'll have second thoughts, be ready to run. Be fighting the urge to beg your pardon, explain this is too real, that I must leave.
But I'll bite my tongue. In addition to my fear and wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into, I'm desperate for you to issue some directive, get my mind on following your will and away from my own thoughts.
"Get your clothes off, and leave them there," you say in a normal tone of voice, indicating a corner near the front door. And, finally having a direction, I put away my doubt as completely as I can, and kick off my shoes, peel off my socks, remove my shirt... hoping you're watching, but finding you've turned your back and wandered away to the living room. So without and audience, i unbuckle my belt, strip off my pants and finally, taking a deep breath, remove my underwear.
I'm a little surprised I'm not sporting any wood, but try to remain unconcerned that you'll be displeased or surprised. When you turn back to face me... I'm watching your feet... I hear you make a pleased chuckle. "You'll do."
"Come kneel here at my feet, and I want you too look up into my eyes for a minute. I want you to hear how I want things to be."
I obediently move to you, kneel, and look up. You move close, the bulge of your cock just centimeters from my face. I watch your eyes looking down on me.
"I'll change the rules and introduce new ones as we go. But here are some rules to begin with, for now. You are here, obviously, to do as I wish... not as you wish. You will follow these rules, or face consequences. As of right now, you will not speak unless I ask you to directly. You will not make eye contact until I direct you to, and then you will maintain that contact until I tell you to stop. You are, as long as you submit to me, under my complete dominion. You are my thing. You are only here under the understanding that I have every right to do anything I want, you have no right to hesitate or refuse me. You are mine. Your mouth is mine, your ass is mine, your cock is mine, your mind is mine, your actions are mine, your mind is mine, your will is mine. Understood?"
Looking into your stern eyes, eyes glittering with anticipation of sadistic glee, I swallow hard.
"Say 'Yes, Master.'"
I croak with a dry throat, voice cracked, voice soft, "Yes, Master."
"You will answer to boy, bitch, slave, cretin, or any other name I call. You will crawl from place to place unless I order you to walk, you will kneel on the floor when at rest where i tell you to kneel unless I tell you otherwise. You will call me Master. Stay, boy."
You walk over to a table and retrieve a hood, leather cuffs for my hands and ankles. You snug the hood, with eye and mouth holes, snuggly over my head, and then make it snugger still by zipping it down the back. "Put your wrists together," you say gruffly. I feel the restraints tightened and hear them latch - on both ankles and wrists.
"Do you know that I mean what I say? That I will do with you what I like? That you are just my bitch?"
I nod slowly, my heart hammering. I can feel my eyes shimmering with fearful damp. My cock is still soft, and I begin to wonder if that is a good or bad thing, in your mind.
"I want you to know it more deeply. I know you believe the words, bound as you are what can you do about it? But I want you to feel it in your bones. Believe me, you will."
Grabbing me by one arm and pulling, you order me to stand. "Inspection time, you little fuck." I am again supremely aware of my nakedness as I stand there. You move behind me and stroke my shoulders, my back, my ass, my thighs. "Ok, ok. Now pull your cheeks apart as best you can, lean a little, sway your back, make me want that ass."
I do my best, and as i feel you grab my hips and rub the bulge of your denim-clad erection hard into my ass, my cock betrays me, finally, and begins stiffen. Your hand finds it, gives it a stroke. You lean forward, whisper harshly in my ear, "You know, your silly pecker is the least of my concerns." And with that, you drop it suddenly and circle around the front of me. My cock is bobbing erect and unloved in front of me now, my wishing it away won't help.
"Back on your knees, and follow me." I half fall to my knees, and awkwardly follow you out of the room and into a bedroom fitted to be a makeshift dungeon.
"First, you must be beaten. I will beat you regularly because I enjoy it. I may also beat you if I'm displeased, but that will be different." Walking in front of me, you unbuckle your pants. "Look at my cock, you." I raise my eyes to stare at the bulge in your jeans. "You ever seen a cock besides that one on you before? Really looked at one?"
I shake my head as you begin to loosen your pants.
Oops. Time! More to come.
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When I say I've been both submissive and straight all my life, I really mean those things literally. Never felt longing for men, never been turned on by men. No experimenting, no male porn, nothing - ever. And bizarre kinky submissive sex fantasies since like kindergarten, kinky games with the neighbor girls when I was in elementary school... so, really, all my life.
So why is it that now I find my mind being drawn so powerfully to finding a Dominant MAN who would desire a lifelong straight/submissive guy? It's because my submissiveness is winning over my straightness, that's why. I can think of nothing, nothing, nothing that would require a firmer dominant nor anything that would plunge me more deeply into the deepest, abject submissive servitude than being well trained and conditioned to serve a man. The idea of being made to submit in ways that make me blush to think of them -- that is driving me ever harder.
I don't have any specific expectations or wishlist of activities beyond being humbled and dominated so thoroughly that I find myself freefalling through subspace.
And so I am taken by the thought of being made to be naked in front of a man planning to train and use me to please him, especially sexually. The idea of being made to present myself to a man turned on by my fear. I want to find a man who relishes being the first person ever to force me to worship cock, the first ever to see me with a cock in my mouth, the first ever to force me to let him take my ass.
Is anyone reading who really gets this? I don't want to suck cock. I have never wanted a man to fuck me. I still don't. I want instead to find such a profoundly submissive state. And I know that I am wiling to be made to serve a man in order to find that. I desperately desire to find a man who would understand and enjoy just HOW thorough and complete his dominance and my submission to serve him at all.
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| Age: 25 |
| Luton,
Alaska |
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