Author's note: This is a true story. I'm writing it for my girlfriend's birthday who is into BDSM as much as I am. Enjoy.
I met her on a warm day in the late fall of the pandemic. We were both masked but she drew me in for a hug anyway. It was our first date at an upscale local restaurant. I connected with her on a dating app, and though dating during CORONA is a masterclass in awkwardness, that night was smooth like her legs.
"I'm a hugger," Lola announced, and embraced me with her long limbs and hourglass figure, her pert breasts pushing into my chest. After commiserating over sushi I knew I would ask her for a second date. And a third. And a fourth.
On the fourth date I cooked for her and we cuddled on the sofa in front of a television show. "If you keep this up," I said locking eyes with her, "we're going to have sex tonight."
"Yes I know." She replied.
"OK." I kissed her confidently, "Consent is very important in these types of situations."
Lola replied "Yes, that's why I'm here." So I forced my hands around her gorgeous body, aggressively until she moaned and shook with pleasure.
That night we screwed. I choked her lightly and slapped her ass and she enjoyed it. I held her arms down while I penetrated her. It was rough but tender sex, and after exhausting ourselves, Lola asked me what I wanted in a relationship. The sex was so good I told her what I knew she was thinking: "I want to tie you to my bedpost and fuck your brains out all the time." I could see in her pretty little eyes just how turned on she was by that.
A few days later she told me what I could have already guessed. Lola sent me a BDSM picture on Instagram and it was obvious. Lola liked being submissive and pushed around, and she liked sucking dick. She was, in not so many words, a submissive bitch who wanted discipline. She was turned on by being tied up and fucked, so I drew a picture of her tied down wearing a dog collar. She responded with the heart eyes emoji. Later that night I bought her a leather collar with a golden leash and texted her, "I bought you a toy so you know your place."
Later in the week I invited her over for a date and then her collaring ceremony. When I do something, it's not half assed. It's the full thing. So to teach Lola her roles and responsibilities, I wrote her a very binding sex contract, it was a typical collaring ceremony that Lola needed to go through before I took her as my sub.
The document itself covered some mushy stuff like that I love her and that I promise to never kink shame her, and to never use her submission as a weapon. But also expectations. I have standards for how my bitch acts and performs, both in public and private, and some of the big agreements of the relationship are that I'm going to make certain decisions from now on. If she does things that aren't satisfactory to me, she will have her ass slapped repeatedly until it's red and painful to sit on.
So we're kissing on the sofa and I say to her, "Lola, in my room I have a very special gift for you. I know you want to be my bitch, and I'm ready to degrade you and turn you on so much you'll do anything I say. I want you to meet me in the bedroom in five minutes and think about how much you want this. There's no going back." Lola nodded and did exactly what I said.
After the elapsed time, I entered my room with a box and a contract. She was in underwear, beautiful curves spilling out of her bra, and dark luscious eyes ready for submission, and though slightly frightened by the prospect of what was about to happen, I reassured her.
"Lola, are you ready for your collaring ceremony?" I asked her, putting down the box and holding her hand.
"Yes." She said, her voice quivering with lust.
I retracted my hand and stopped the ritual, sternly admonishing her. "You need to say 'yes, Sir.' because we are not the same here. I am your Dominant and you are my submissive. And if this is what you want, you need to address me properly," I paused. "Are you ready for your collaring ceremony?"
"Yes Sir." Lola said, and the reality of what was about to happen hit her. She swallowed, pupils dilated.
"I wrote you a contract and you need to read it and sign every line. Do you understand?" I said slowly and forcefully.
"Yes Sir," Lola said, her timid voice barely audible over her beating heart. This beautiful creature was about to sign her sexuality to me and she needed to know it was real.
"Read and sign," I gave Lola the document and a red pen and she read. She was already so turned on I wondered if the bedsheets were soaking wet beneath her pussy.
"Sex whenever SIR wants it... Blowjobs whenever SIR wants it... Must tell SIR when you touch yourself... Discipline whenever SIR deems necessary... Eye contact only when SIR wants..." As she was reading and mumbling some of the terms, I began to open the box to her brand new leather collar. It was from a high end sex shop in Los Angeles and the weight of it was formidable. It smelled dangerous, a thick leather smell. I wanted a leash and collar that she could be walked in, privately or publicly. I wanted her to know who is in charge, and to one day brag to her friends about how much I care about her kink. There was no mistaking this as anything other than a collar for a submissive bitch.
When she finished reading, she licked her lips and swallowed again. There was nothing for her to say anymore because she was no longer in control at all. The whole collaring ritual is less about the collar (though her collar is pristine) and more about the acknowledgement that in this domain she is not equal. From now on, Lola has forfeited the right to make sexual demands and I will treat her as a sex object. Apart from stopping me with our safe word, Lola has no authority over the bedroom. If I so choose, I could demand she touch herself to this very story and take pictures of her in heat.
The hottest thing about Lola's kink is that all of this degradation reinforces her arousal. Spitting in her mouth makes her horny. Slapping her ass turns her on. She will listen and do things obediently because the blood has left her brain and is floating around her pussy and clitoris, like a bimbo. My bimbo. When I rub her the right way, like a genie bottle, she'll do whatever I wish. And I love that about her.
Out of love I coach Lola through the whole collaring process, and even afterwards when I make her take my dick in its entirety. I say "Good girl," cooing because she's a good little bitch who needs encouragement, and that's ok.
After she signed the contract in red, I told her, "Get on your hands and knees."
Lola crawled into tabletop position, on her hands and knees, ass out in the air, tits hanging free. And I put my hand on the small of her back and let her know it's time to follow orders, "Touch yourself." I say, and she does.
"Do you realize," I say to her, "I've barely touched you and you're soaking wet." I smile and whisper in her ear, "just knowing you're my bitch is foreplay enough for you."
Lola started breathing heavily and I grabbed her by her hair, "Look at me." My beautiful bitch looks at me, "Who's in control here?"
"You are," Lola said moaning, touching herself. I yanked her hair and slapped her ass hard, leaving a mark. "What?" I said sternly. "What did you call me?"
"You are Sir," Lola said in a whine, her fingers dancing on her pussy and her eyes rolling back.
"You are going to orgasm for me well before I even think about entering you. Do you understand?" I held her head up like a prisoner, she could barely talk - her pleasure level off the charts.
"Yes Sir," she mumbled.
"Did you touch yourself without me?" I asked her, one hand on her ass, the other gripping her hair. "Over the last week, did you touch yourself without me around?"
"Yes Sir," she was vibrating with pleasure and I didn't care. This night was far from over.
"How many times?" She looked away to count in her head, "Look at me." I slapped her ass again. "Do you see me holding the leash?"
