Hi, My name is Misty, and I like being in control. I guess from a fairly early age I had always been what you might call "bossy". I've always liked to have my way, and I haven't always played fair.
My childhood was pretty normal, apart from my bossiness. I was bright and inquisitive. In high school I was also a cheerleader and dated often but remained aloof from the whole high school romance scene, and sex wasn't something that was even on my radar. My eighteenth birthday came and passed, and I was still a virgin.
In college I found that being away from home was liberating. For the first time in my life I felt truly free. Whether I had just been oblivious before, I also noticed that the college boys were responding to me wherever I went, and although I didn't dress provocatively, these college boys were falling all over themselves asking for dates. Although I let several of them take me out, I quickly I found that I hated these boys pawing me, touching where and when I didn't want them to touch me. I hated having to continuously tell them to keep their hands to themselves. I hated their lack of respect and control.
Yet at the same time in the privacy of my own room, I was discovering my own sexuality. Even though I hated being pawed by my frat-boy dates, I found that I did like the way my body felt to be touched. My body's pleasure was like miraculously coming upon an entire new land with all its treasures and wonders. I quickly found that I was multi-orgasmic and when my nipples were squeezed and pulled with just the right pressure lightening bolts went off in my brain.
In addition to my beauty, this newly found awareness of my sexuality seemed to heighten my desirability. I had become every college boy's wet dream. But along with this new awareness came another realization: if I couldn't decide exactly how I wanted to be treated, both verbally and physically, then these boys were of no interest to me, although I did remain "the tease". I loved making them pay for their lack of control.
Once while discussing the subject of sex, an older woman friend of mine said, "Men will do anything to get that pussy," and I think she got that nearly right. I discovered that men will do almost anything to get their rocks off is more like it, and whether they get the pussy is almost irrelevant. I own my pussy, and I own the gateway to my pussy. What began to get me off was making men slaves to my pussy and to my entire body.
In college I learned about sex probably like most young women do, through a process of trial and error. I found what felt good and what didn't. I liked the feeling of a hard cock in me but didn't like feeling pinned under someone, and being on top wasn't quite the same. What was worse was that, once a lover had orgasmed, they seemed to lose their interest and devotion to me.
I realized that for sex to be as I needed it to be, I would need to control my lovers' orgasms... completely. Only then did my sexual world open up to me in all its wonder. Initially I told them that to be with me they were only to cum when I allowed them to cum. Even then these 'boys' had so little self-control. They were often dishonest about controlling their orgasms, however by my third year of college, I discovered the joy of placing my lovers in chastity, insuring their devotion to me. They rushed to willingly give me the key to their orgasms as well as the key to their hearts. They were slaves to their own cocks.
However, for me, there was still something missing. As devoted as my young lovers were, they were too much like slathering, salivating dogs. Even in their cock cages, they still occasionally orgasmed, and I had to teach them everything that I liked. Even then most hardly knew what sensuality was or how to give a decent massage. They were just so clueless. They just wanted that pussy. Still life on top was awfully good, and I knew I could never go back to vanilla for long.
A few years after I had graduated from college, I was at party in an art gallery where I met Clive, my first older lover. He was so charming and attentive that night, and although it was quite clear he was smitten with me, he made no attempt to push past my unstated boundaries and was quite respectful and reverential. I flirted with Clive mercilessly, and teased him about the bulge in his pants the entire evening, even dragging my fingers across his crotch on several occasions as I nibbled on his ear. I really loved teasing this poor man but hadn't thought of taking it further than a tease, but something in his reverential demeanor towards me and how he handled his confusion so passively caused me to consider broadening my horizons.
When it was time to leave, I asked Clive if he wanted to come home with me, to which he replied, "Yes." I asked him if he was prepared to follow my orders and do only what I allowed, and he said, "Whatever you want," clearly meaning it.
Once he was in my home, I ordered him to strip, which he did quickly, revealing a fit body and an impressive erection. I had him kneel before a large over-stuffed chair where I was seated, fully, if scantily, dressed. I quizzed Clive about himself, his life, and whether he had been with a dominant woman before.
Clive was 48 years old and had been divorced for several years. His ex had run off with a younger man, and she cruelly told him that he never pleased her sexually, not like this new lover did. From his story I concluded that he was never dominated by his wife, but at the same time he was hopelessly devoted to her, doing anything to please her, to keep her. Hearing of his devotion pleased me a great deal. It also pleased me that he had sexually never been with another woman since his divorce despite going on several dates.
"Do you find me attractive, Clive?" I queried. "Do I arouse you?" I asked, knowing that I did. "Will you do exactly what I ask?" I finally asked.
With each question Clive answered affirmatively.
I slipped off my shoes and offered my toes to him. "Show my feet, how much you want me, just my feet. Make love to my feet, Clive. Show them what a good boy you can be," I instructed.
As gentle as could be, Clive kissed both of my feet all over. He sucked on each toe and licked all around each so sensually that I became more and more turned on.
"That's it, baby. Make love to my toes. Make me feel so good," I crooned to him, and slowly my hands raised the hem of my dress up so I was able to reach my dripping pussy. I spread my labia so he could see how wet he was making me, and then dipping 2 fingers deep into me and fucking myself briefly, I offered them for him to suck.
He sucked and licked them as if I was offering him the greatest reward in the world, and his soft moans indicated his pleasure. When I removed my fingers, he resumed his attention to my feet without needing to be told anything. It was that sense of both devotion and attunement that had been missing with my younger subs, and I knew that at that moment I had struck gold.
I leaned back into my chair, closed my eyes, and let my fingers swirl around my clit and let the pleasure I was experiencing wash over me. Soon I could feel my orgasm building, building from my clit to deep within my pussy and my chest. I arched my back into a bow as each wave of pleasure shook and passed over me, and as the first orgasm ended the second began to build. I was thrashing all about, flowing from one orgasm to the next, and Clive never stopped his ministrations to my feet, never stopped pleasuring me. And when I finally opened my eyes again, I saw him staring as he licked and kissed, in awe of the pleasure he had given me and of the woman who had experienced such pleasure.
Once I had calmed down sufficiently to proceed, I had Clive stop attending to my feet. I asked him, "Do you wish to see me again? And will you give me control of all your orgasms and will you only cum when I say so?"
"Oh, please, I would love to see you again. And yes, you can tell me when to orgasm. I can give you that. I just want to see you and be with you," Clive confessed.
Clive's cock had remained fully erect throughout our playtime together, and I thought I would leave him with a little tease. "You were so good to my feet, I think it's only fair my tootsies repay the favor. Scoot forward so I can reach you better," I cooed to Clive. And when he got within reach, my feet began to caress his hardness. "Fuck my feet, Clive, but don't cum unless I tell you that you can."
Clive started thrusting at my feet and was moaning his pleasure as my feet cradled the underside of his erection. "That's it baby, your hard cock feels so good. Does it feel good to you? Tell me baby."
Clive just moaned, "Oh God, this feels so good. I'm getting so close."
I told him, "I don't want you to cum yet. Do you need to stop?"
