First Time With A Top Dominatrix

This might not be a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead could be intentional.

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It had been long enough.

He had dabbled in kink and submission for over ten years. Before that he had always known there was something dark beneath his sexuality, going right back to his first masturbation fantasies.

He had visited a 'naughty nurse' who claimed to be able to deliver a medical experience. She failed, embarrassingly. He had visited a French mistress who was unable to dominate, only discipline - there had been no chemistry between them. He had become good friends with a wonderful sex worker who had spanked and fisted him, but they were too pally for him to feel truly submissive. He had been tied and teased by a beautiful Australian woman with a body to die for - that had been wonderful. He had been to a dungeon twice with a young pro-Domme. He had surrendered to a powerful expert amateur who had delivered the experience of a lifetime, but he had never visited a top dominatrix.

Traditional mistress marketing had never appealed. "Cower, slave. I will make you suffer," just didn't work for him. His failed session with the French mistress had proved that. He wanted a mental connection. He wanted to submit to a woman with a deviant mind who would take him out of his body and torment him with exquisite agony. He didn't want the pain to be brutal. He wanted a mistress who would seduce him into aching for her to hurt him. She would beat him up from inside his own head and with his enthusiastic and willing acquiescence.

He thought he had found someone this time.

He had studied her website; watched her videos; seen an interview; read her blog. He was hooked.

They had exchanged emails. She knew his kinks and his hopes. He trusted her ability and he liked her style. They were to meet in two weeks. He was counting down the days.

It had been long enough.

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One day to go. He had been out of town He had been out of town and was driving back in the evening. The BMW effortlessly ate up the miles. Miles Davis blasted out of the Harman Kardon sound system. He kept himself alert by sliding a hand underneath his T shirt and attaching bulldog clips to his nipples, then removing the clips and pinching and scratching the skin with his fingers. The sensations he created were a foretaste.

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Today was the day. He woke, showered and shaved, paying particular attention to his most intimate places. He had not masturbated for six days. He was as ready as he could be. He ate a light breakfast. His body was trembling slightly. It was involuntary. It continued all morning, though outwardly he appeared calm.

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The tube station was close to the West End. It was in an area where he used to live. It had once been his local station. He walked out into the familiar streetscape and headed for a nearby landmark. He was to phone her on the hour. He was ten minutes early. He went into a pub and ordered a single scotch and ice. It was exactly what he needed.

The seconds ticked by and after ten minutes he called her and she gave him the address.

One minute later, he knocked at the door of an attractive mews apartment. The door opened. Mistress welcomed him inside. She was as elegant as her website promised but younger, more sylphlike and more beautiful in the flesh. Her clothing was stylish but did not betray her profession.

She looked warm, superior and slightly amused. Their eyes met. Her smile was iced with intent. She closed the door. She kissed him on the cheek and they exchanged pleasantries. The interior of her house was dark and interesting, with a gothic theme. He felt instantly at home. He accepted her offer of a shower and was soon naked.

Now fresh, dry and ready, Mistress bade him stand at the foot of the bed, facing her, with his legs apart; clothed female and naked male. They looked each other in the eye. That look said it all. In that instant he knew everything was going to be right. There was acceptance and trust. There was confidence and submission. It was all in that moment. The world between them shrank to that moment. A whole life is punctuated by moments like these. It is not an exaggeration to call it an epiphany. For the next two hours, he was hers, to use and enjoy.

She started on his nipples, squeezing them tightly and scratching them in turn. She leaned down and bit them hard; first one and then the other. Her teeth seemed to have a direct connection through his nipples to his cock. He wanted more. She knew how to torment.

Her hands moved to his cock and balls. She grasped them and squashed them tightly. She was going to tie them up and have fun. She moved away and returned with rope.

Soon they were tightly bound and his balls were bloated, shiny and vulnerable. She gave them another squeeze and scraped, scratched and pinched them with her fingernails. The sensations she bestowed were delicious. She would return to them again and again throughout the session. She delighted in pricking and hurting his most sensitive places. She looked at him as she continued to tease.

All the time, she was calmly and quietly telling him what she was going to do next. He was entranced and bewitched; completely under her spell.

She moved an upright chair closer. She attached cuffs to his wrists and told him to sit down. She fixed the cuffs to hooks on the back of the chair. His arms were behind him now. His legs were spread. He was at her mercy. She fixed scissor clamps to his nipples. They were linked by a chain. The scratching and scraping of his balls and cock continued. She hit his cock with a crop. She taunted him with the possibility that she might miss his cock and hit his balls. He truly wouldn't have minded, but his trust in her was absolute.

She moved behind the chair, continuing to torment his nipples. She unclipped his hands and told him to place them on his thighs, making an upright fist. She wanked his cock and brought him close to the edge. She placed her arm around his neck from behind, elbow to the fore. She squeezed his neck tightly, cutting off the blood supply to his brain. She relaxed it as the euphoria overtook him and before he blacked out.

It was time for him to pay homage. Mistress removed her top and bra. Her breasts were the perfect size and shape. Not too large or small. Goldilocks had breasts like these.

Now she fixed a collar around his neck. She slid her panties off and faced him in stockings, shoes and garter belt. He knew what he had to do.

Mistress climbed on the bed and spread her thighs. He joined her between them on his knees and elbows. He gazed on her perfect cunt for the first time. He lowered his face towards her and tickled her perineum with the tip of his tongue. He inhaled her subtle, musky aroma. It was distinctively hers, yet it took his brain to the place where he remembered every cunt he had ever licked. It was heaven to be here between her legs. He was determined to make this cunnilingus special.

He began by teasing slowly and gently. He ran his tongue up and down, around her labia, poking it into her vagina, then up and around again. He was born to lick. This was a calorie free feast more satisfying than any meal.

Almost imperceptibly he increased the pressure, using his mouth to kiss and enclose her whole vagina. The kissing and licking continued as his tongue made its way to her clit. The clit was the target, but it needed to be woken and teased gently before it would be ready for a full frontal assault.

He could feel it poking out through the hood. There was a nub, a delicious small erection. He seized it. His mouth and tongue worked it over mercilessly. He listened to her moans and encouraging words. He was taking her close to the edge. Time ceased to have any meaning. He had been here forever. He would carry on for as long as she wanted.

She was sinking in sensation. Her hand fondled her breast and grasped a nipple. She considered telling him to stop, but she was enjoying the attention so much that she allowed him to continue. She was floating away and holding off her climax. She decided not to come, but to save her release for later. She would have him pleasure her again. Then she would surrender to an orgasm.

"You told me you were good and you were right. You have made a rod for your own back. I will make you do that again," Mistress purred.

He reluctantly lifted his mouth from her delicious vulva and returned to the present.

They changed positions. He was spread eagled and fixed to the bed using ankle cuffs in addition to the wrist cuffs. His cock and balls were oiled, teased, scraped and squeezed. His nipples were clamped, unclamped, re-clamped and scratched. She pulled on his chain and his nipples strained. His brain was overwhelmed with sensation.

Then she offered him a choice.

"This is the only choice I am going to offer you today. I am going to ask you to turn over so that I can play with your arse. If you agree, I will restrain you so that you are completely unable to move - or - I can leave you free and able to wriggle away if you wish. Either way, you can tell me if it gets too much."

He thought for a moment.

"I would like to be restrained, Mistress," he said.

It was done. He was on the bed on his hands and knees. His ankles were apart and immobilised. His wrists were fixed to his collar. His arse was in the air.

He was penetrated with fingers and dildos. He was opened out and filled up. He was gaping and relaxed. Mistress was pleased and was enjoying herself. All the time she continued to scratch and pinch his tied balls. His prostate was massaged and all his anal nerves were firing. It was sensory overload. There was no discomfort, only pleasure; submissive, accepting, passive, stress-free pleasure. He was literally in the hands of a virtuoso cock and arse fetishist. There could be no better place to be. She called him a slut. He had to agree.

Now it was time for Mistress to have her orgasm. They reprised their earlier positions on the bed. He knelt between her splayed legs again. He gently rested his hands on the tops of her inner thighs and slowly pulled them apart, opening her out. He could see her inner lips and vagina glinting before him. His tongue was ready.

He started slowly as before, teasing at first, though the urge to open his mouth wide and envelope her whole vulva was almost irresistible. His tongue circled her lips again and soon he was back on her clit. This time she was going to come and he was going to make it happen. She was slow to arouse, but reached a plateau and stayed there for a while, making encouraging sounds. He stayed with her, keeping his movements simple and repetitive.

He was not impatient. He loved this task. He was here for the duration. It was an honour and a privilege. His eyes took in the sight of an aroused Mistress who was approaching climax. When she came, she was not loud and over-exuberant; she was quiet but definite. There was no doubt. She had reached her goal.

His tongue slowed and licked her more softly, reluctant to move away just yet. He used his whole tongue and moved it around her vulva, lapping sensitively.

"That's right, keep doing that for thirty seconds."

He continued, slowed and stopped. He moved away. After a pause she arose from the bed to arrange his final position.

Soon he was on his back on the bed again, arms and legs tethered. The scissor nipple clamps were reattached and the chain was fixed to the rope that bound his cock and balls. Every time he moved his head back it stretched the chain and his nipples were pulled. He kept doing it.

She got to work on his cock and balls again, scratching and wanking. She picked up a Wartenberg pinwheel and put it to good use. His balls were comprehensively pricked. The sensations were powerfully erotic. He was approaching the sensory overload he had heard about. He moaned in ecstasy.

She was going to force him to come in a way he had never come before. She removed her shoes to make it easier.

Mistress was going to sit on his face. She climbed on the bed above him, facing his feet. Her hands were free to work on his cock and balls. Her bottom loomed above his face. It was perfect; beautifully round, but not large. He could see her cunt and anus approaching as she moved to sit on him. His tongue was ready.

His mouth encircled her anus and his tongue licked the entrance. He pushed it as far as he could. She squatted down closer. Meanwhile she had oiled his cock and was wanking him again, while scratching his balls. His tongue was forcing its way further inside her. She made encouraging comments. He could only moan.

Her ministrations to his cock and balls continued. She was wanking him relentlessly now. He would not be able to last much longer. His senses were working overtime. Nipples, balls, cock, tongue - all were sending powerful arousal messages to his brain.

She wrung a powerful orgasm out of him. He was spent and exhausted. She had known what he needed before he had even walked in the door and she had delivered it with a skill that was unimpeachable.

"Next time you wank, you will think of me sitting on your face and bringing you to orgasm while your tongue is up my arse."

The understanding between them was unstated. Mistress has boundaries. She knows where they are, just as her clients know. In her domain she is in control, but her control is unspoken. When you are with her, you bask in her undivided attention and you know your place. Her confidence is her shield and submission is your position. All is right with the world.

He showered and dressed. They had a brief, but interesting conversation about life, the universe and everything.

Before he knew it, he was outside, blinking in the afternoon sunlight. He walked back to the underground station with a spring in his step. Sitting on the tube after a session is always surreal. Millions of people in London go about their daily activities while unspeakable depravity takes place within yards of them. For a short time, he was in another place. One day he would return there.

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The next day dawned bright and sunny. He felt positive and awake. He had slept well. Life was good.

Before he got up he had masturbated. When he came, the vision of his tongue, deep in Mistress's anus floated through his mind.