My life used to be so uncomplicated.
I was a Dominant, and many submissives had served me over the years. Part of the reason they liked me, I feel, was because on rare occasions in my life I'd submitted to others. I was not truly a switch – I was almost a pure Dominant. But I'd mainly submitted because it allowed an escape for me, and a way to better understand the other side of the relationship.
A year ago, Salope came into my life. I thought her parents must've had a strange sense of humor. Or maybe they had no idea that 'salope' was French for 'slut'. Maybe they just thought it sounded nice.
I was never sure why she chose to submit to me. Even though all her bones were submissive ones, she didn't submit willy-nilly. She wasn't a doormat. She was quite selective. And she picked me.
As a good Dominant, I interviewed her thoroughly, learning her thoughts, desires, and limits before agreeing to take her on. She was 100% submissive, all right, and lived it. But her limits were her limits. The obvious limits, changes to her body like branding and piercing, blood, scat – harmful things – were mutually agreeable, of course.
I was disappointed, I admit, by a few of Salope's limits. For instance, anal sex was off the table. So were golden showers. I could live with those restrictions, although I really loved anal sex. Sure, that opening is tighter than any vagina, so the friction is very pleasurable to me. But there was something more. When a woman offers me her ass, it feels like an act of total submission. Naughty and erotic with a little humiliation thrown in for the woman. Golden showers are similar. Urine isn't harmful, but having a woman let me urinate on her indicates abject submission. But Salope said 'no', and I honored her limits.
She also forbade me to use crops, belts, and whips to chastise her, although spanking by hand was acceptable as a punishment if she displeased me in any manner. So she was a little difficult to deal with as I reminded my self to not violate her limits.
Salope made up for it, though, by her obvious devotion to me, seeing to my needs and serving me. And the sex was fantastic. She was an enthusiastic, imaginative lover, eager to try any position I might desire. She didn't remain passive – she fucked me back vigorously when we coupled. Her mouth gave me amazing blow jobs, and she swallowed as much of my semen as possible when I climaxed. Her hands milked me dry whenever I indicated I wanted that. Sex was heightened if I tied her up so she was helpless when I used her, using her mouth and cunt freely as receptacles for my seed.
I didn't demand that Salope attend to me 24/7 – she was free to come and go as she pleased, since she was a submissive, serving me by choice, and not my slave. She might contact me every day – she might go missing for a week. If I summoned her, she got to me as quickly as she could. I loved having her as my submissive. I loved taking her to our bondage club, and showing her off to the other members. I could see in their eyes that they knew I had a treasure, even though her shyness around other people required that I at least keep a bra and panties on her in such a public venue.
One day, I was resting alone in the lovely gardens that were part of the property belonging to our bondage club. I found the feel of the breeze and the sound of the birds in the nearby trees to be soothing. It was an elixir to my soul. The sunlight was muted by thin clouds, and the temperature was perfect.
I was almost dozing when I saw the approach of a woman. From a distance, her blonde hair formed a glowing halo around her head. She was sheathed in a colorful garment or tunic that clung to her curves and whose edges fluttered around her shapely thighs. Her feet were clad in leather boots that started near the tops of her calves and ended in firm soles and spiked heels.
Where I was sitting, there was a second chair across the table from me. Gesturing at that chair, she said, "Hello, my name is Tamis. Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," I replied. "Please join me."
She sat, obviously aware that I was studying her body, and making no effort to hide anything from my gaze. The neckline of the tunic plunged nicely, giving me a pleasing view of her cleavage. Her waist was narrow and flared into hips that seemed to beg to be held. An enticing creature indeed.
I politely made eye contact and we struck up a conversation. I was immediately dazzled by her intelligence. As time passed, I was entranced by her demeanor, her rhythm as she spoke, her tone of voice. She radiated confidence. A trust formed between us. Our conversation was lively, with bursts of spontaneity.
After about an hour, Tamis raised one of her booted feet and placed it on the table between us, flexing her toes up toward her knee. She looked into my eyes and articulated, "You want to suck the heel of my boot, don't you?"
My mind was spinning at this question. "No," came out of my lips, but it wasn't a firm 'No' – it had no force, no stability – it was almost a whisper.
Tamis didn't flinch, or move her leg or foot. Instead, she calmly stated, "You don't have too. But you know it would be nice if you did."
After a few moments, she added, "Put your hands flat on the table."
Without thinking I did it. Perhaps subconsciously I was calculating that it was a way to be submissive without having to meet her first demand.
Tamis leaned back a bit, pushing her heel higher into the air and closer to the center of the table.
I was asking myself, "Why am I breathing hard? Why is my heart getting out of control?" I knew I was a Dominant, and I wasn't there to find some fling.
Tamis looked into my eyes and told me, "Lean forward."
I felt like someone was behind me pushing my head firmly forward. The aura this woman was generating was amazing. My head was saying 'no' while my body was already saying 'yes' and reacting. And Tamis knew it. I could feel the pleasure she was getting from bending my will.
"Just a little bit," she said, seductively.
I started turning my head slightly toward her face as I leaned forward.
Tamis softly commanded, "No. Keep your head straight ahead."
As I did so, the sole of her boot touched my forehead.
Tamis whispered, "Now wrap your lips around the spike."
As I complied to her command, my mind blew up. I knew she had me.
After I wrapped my lips around the tip, Tamis suggested, "You really want to take it deeper. To be fully worthy of my praise, you should feel that heel spike in the back of your throat."
I had to lean out of my chair to do it, arching my back and tilting my face up as I moved forward. Tamis didn't care if anyone else walked up. She was waiting, I could tell. She wanted to hear my gag reflex.
And she got it.
The spell Tamis had generated was remarkable. I was feeling submissive – genuinely submissive. It's something I don't feel often, and it was a rush. After I gagged, sucking on the heel of her boot, she said, "Good boy. You can sit back again."
As I did so, she stood up, informing me, "You can follow me into the building, if you walk bent from your waist, keeping your head about two feet behind my ass." She spoke as if granting me a favor.
As she slowly began walking, I stood up, somewhat dazzled. My body bent forward and my arms moved back behind either hip to counterbalance me. I trailed along behind her, mesmerized. Moving like that was awkward, and after a while it was making my back ache, and I probably looked ludicrous to any observers. But I didn't give a thought to any of that, because as she walked, Tamis raised the hem of the back of her tunic. Like a curtain being raised on a great drama, the cloth moved upward, and I saw that Tamis wore no undergarments at all. The muscles of her nude buttocks contracted and relaxed as she strolled, and the sight made my heart race.
All pain was ignored, all shame was forgotten, as I moved along, bewitched, watching the sway of her luscious ass as she led us in procession into the building. I don't even know if she looked back over her shoulder to see if I was obeying, I was so focused on the sight in front of me. Maybe she was now so confident in her power over me that she felt it unnecessary to check.
We entered the large room with its bondage devices and she led me to a padded wooden cross shaped like a large 'X' in the nearest corner of the room. Pausing, she murmured, "You'd probably be more comfortable with your clothes off." That's all. No demanding. Just a suggestion.
Hypnotically, my hands went to my various buttons and zipper and laces, and in what seemed like a blink of an eye, I was naked.
"I think you want me to tie you to the cross, don't you?" she asked quietly.