How many times over the years had He made use of my ass, either with His own thick cock or with one of the anal toys in the collection? i could never begin to count, but i would guess that it would be over one hundred times during the first two years of marriage, plus perhaps another fifty times while dating and while engaged.
Without question, He loved filling my ass. Just the thought of something entering where typically things only exit made that single act thrilling. The natural tightness of the sphincter and the required time and care in pressing it open to slip something past it to snake deep into my bowels required far more intimacy than if He were to slide into my mouth or into my pussy. Anal play or anal sex inherently forced things to progress slowly so that my body would not be damaged. And while i certainly enjoyed feeling so full of Him in such a forbidden place in the body, while i took great pride and received great psychological pleasure in yielding even this to His control and His usage, i suspected that, at least physically, His pleasure was likely greater.
So i was extremely surprised when one evening, as i sat in His lap and luxuriated in how He was touching me both through and around my scant clothing, He made a request of me:
"Would you be willing to top Me for an evening?"
i blinked several times as i tried to convince myself that i had just indeed heard my Master request the unthinkable. "Um... sure?"
"Specifically, would you be willing to take My ass?"
Instantly, i thought of the first time He had used the anal beads with me. He had taken His time, explaining things to me, thoroughly lubing both me and the beads, sliding them into me slowly and with great care, then gently using the beads to make love to my ass while His free hand gently rubbed my clitoris. i had already known that He had gained some experience with anal play with a college girlfriend, so inherently He had given me the benefit of that experience, so why He suddenly wanted me to do to Him what He had done to me so often was almost baffling.
"Why, Sir?" i finally asked.
He smiled. "Because I realized earlier today that perhaps I could make such experiences for you even better if I had a true understanding of what it's like to be the one being filled," He admitted.
That made sense. Friends at the club who were switches or who had previously been submissives before becoming Dominants had mentioned on more than a few occasions that being on the receiving end of activities had helped to hone the skills for being on the giving end of activities. Yet my Master had never previously made any indications of wanting to switch roles, not even temporarily.
Then again, there is an apt clichΓ© for this situation:
There's a first time for everything
.
"Sure," i responded more affirmatively. "And after this, perhaps i can be a better sub for You, Sir."
*****
That Saturday evening, i took the phone off the hook and turned off both cell phones. i filled the bedroom with as many of the scented tea light candles as i could find, the mix of fruity scents combining with the dim light to create a loving, romantic atmosphere. Since i knew it was one of His favorite soundtracks, i had copied the
Koyaanisqatsi
playlist to my iPod and brought the small device into the bedroom along with the small speakers so that He could hear some soothing music during His first time being on the receiving end of anal play.
The beads were ready. The box of anal lube shooters was also on the bed, along with a small towel for cleaning any messes with the lube, although there had rarely been any such messes after having switched to using the lube shooters. The large pillows were stacked one atop the other on the bed to hopefully make Him more comfortable as He lost His anal virginity.
As He showered, i changed into a cute frilly black-and-pink panty and added a sheer black camisole before adding a hint of make-up and a touch of perfume. Then i waited semi-patiently, hoping that this would all go according to plan, that He would truly enjoy the forthcoming experience.
When my Master finally emerged from the bathroom, He was naked, His skin and His hair still slightly damp, His body soft in the embrace. The lingering scent of the new soap He had recently begun using aroused me, and i had to remind myself that this was not about me, as usual, but about Him, only this time, this was not about His pleasure or His sadistic whims, but about His anal experience.
Whenever at home, unless there were non-kinky visitors or i was showering, i always wore a think black leather collar, the visible symbol of my submission to Him. Stepping back from the embrace, i turned my back to Him and lifted my hair, and He took the hint, unbuckling the collar and handing it to me as i turned to face Him, essentially a passing of the baton to release me from my service to Him for this short period. Then i had Him turn around so i could buckle the collar around His neck, completing the transition of roles.
It felt strange to be in a position of power, even though that power would only be temporary and fairly limited. It felt even stranger to be about to play yet be wearing clothing -- even if just scant, sexy lingerie -- while He wore nothing but the collar. Although He was temporarily the submissive, He was still "He" with an upper-case "H" in my mind, and i was still "i" with a lower-case "i."
From the expression in His eyes, it was clear that He did not truly know how to be submissive. That was not at all surprising, since submission was definitely not in His nature. i simply smiled reassuringly and placed a gentle kiss to His chest, directly over the heart, then hooked a finger through the small O-ring of the dainty collar and guided Him to the bed.
"Up on the bed," i instructed, "on Your knees with Your head on the pillows."