Street Slut

I hesitate to write this down, but I just saw a film that reminded me of an incident from when I was first starting out as a submissive. When I was a younger woman, still in University I still hadn't found my path to sexuality. I was searching for my true self, and in those adventures I found many ways to find pleasure in the strangest of environments, and circumstances.

In this age of feminism it is hard for a woman to discover truths about herself that don't conform to the current status quo, the same way women hundreds of years ago couldn't express themselves, women now are not to indulge in" demeaning behaviors."

Well fuck that.

I know I stand on the shoulders of my sisters that have walked down the path of struggle, and thanks to them for the high paying job, and freedom that I have today. But my freedom is just that. And if I choose to let men "abuse" me then that is my prerogative.

But I'm ranting.

The fact of the matter is that I am submissive. I like to be told what to do. I like to have a man dominate me sexually. In life I'm less accommodating, but in the bedroom, or where-ever he tells me, I am a slave.

Which leads me to the discovery of just how far I would go to please my master.

At the time I was, as I said, still very naive, and hadn't yet realized what my particular sexual peccadilloes were. My boyfriend at the time was a couple years older. Well more than a couple but that isn't the point, he was a strong powerful, confident man and I thought I was in love. I had only had a couple lovers before this, and was fairly inexperienced. I had only had a few orgasms, and sort of thought that sex, although nice, really wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Then with Michael I found a lover who could make me cum like thunder.

The difference was in the way he made love to me. Michael practically never did anything. He made me undress him, I was the one who told him what I wanted and how. And somehow it was always me who lost control and had orgasm after orgasm.

The first time Michael showed me this side of myself was on our third date. We had had sex after our second date and met a couple more times for sex, but our third date was only, maybe, the forth or fifth time we had fucked. As we were getting ready to go to bed, he sat down and looked at me with this really intense stare. I wasn't sure what he was doing and just as I was about to ask him what was up, he told me to take off my clothes. The way he said it made me shiver. I started to undress, and he stopped me. "Don't take your clothes off as if I'm not here. Do it for me. Please me." So I started to sway and pretend I was a stripper. "Look if I wanted a lap dance I'd get one. Take off your clothes for me as if you want me to see your body, and not like you are being paid for it. Take them off like a Queen for her King. Like a priestess for her God, like a slave for her Master." With those last words I felt my pussy tremble. I couldn't say why, but I was wet just thinking about him telling me how to undress for him.

I looked at him with my eyes lowered and imagined I was a slave. We hadn't gone anywhere fancy that night, so I wasn't dressed in a particularly sexy outfit, but I suddenly felt like my bedroom was a temple and that I was a sacrifice on an alter. The ritual must be done correctly, or else...

I bowed down before him, and kissed Michael's feet. It felt like the right thing to do, even though it was totally over the top. I then got up and with my eyes half closed so as not to offend, I pulled the bottom of my tee-shirt up over my belly, then lifted it up slowly over my breasts and then over my head. I placed it on the floor between us and folded it in half. I then reached behind me and unclasped my bra. Holding the cups in my hands I let the bra come off of my breasts and the straps fall down my arms. I then placed it on my shirt and stood before Michael with my exposed torso. I felt sexier and more vulnerable than at any other time of my life. Michael had already told me how much he loved my breasts, "The perfect size." he told me, and I actually believed him, but tonight it was different. Sacred. I risked a glance at him. He face was set, and he was looking at me with such intensity that I knew I was pleasing him, even though he didn't look moved at all. The rigidity of his face told me of the force he was using to contain himself.

I quickly moved my hands to my belt and unclasped it. Undoing the button fly on my jeans I pulled them open revealing a hint of the tiny panties I wore underneath. I pulled the waist band down over my hips and tried not to take my panties with the pants. It wouldn't do to take off too much at once. I stepped out of the pants and folded them onto the pile of clothes in front of Michael. I once more stood before him; my hands splayed slightly to show that I was submitting my self for scrutiny, I glanced up and saw him lick his lips just slightly.

I ran a finger around the edge of the waist band of my underwear. The tiny triangle of cloth between my legs was far too small to cover anything so it was obvious that I had waxed my self for him since last time we had been together. Just thinking about how that might affect him had me trembling. I slowly, ritualistically pulled the moist cloth down my long legs and stepped out of the last of my clothes. I stood before my master and awaited his pleasure.

"Undress me now."

I did as I was told and removed each piece of his clothing as if it were an item of great worth like the ceremonial trappings of a high priest, or king.

As I pulled his boxers down, it was all I could do to avoid taking his hard on into my mouth. It was there before me, rigid and throbbing. But I knew I would be going too far if I did.

"What are you most afraid of?" The husky quality of his voice made my nipples ache with passion.

"That I won't please you." I whispered.

"Then don't fail."

"How, can I please you now?" We stood together, inches apart, not touching.

"Tell me what you are scared I'll ask you to do?"

I didn't know what to say. What was I scared of? I had given him head once, but I wasn't very good at it, so I was sort of scared of that, but not really. At that point I hadn't heard of anal sex, so it wasn't in my vocabulary to be afraid of. I looked over at my bed, and the idea just popped out of my mouth, before I had fully formed it in my head.

"I'm afraid you will tie me to the bed."

"Good. Get some rope."

My knees went weak. I had no idea that I wanted to be tied up, but now that it was going to happen I was short of breath with excitement.

I still lived at home, though I didn't need to, and I went into my parents garage and found some rope from an old tent we used to camp in. Walking around in the house with no clothes on was such a turn on. I knew no one was home, my parents were gone for the weekend, but my younger brother could bring his rowdy friends home at any time. I ran back to the bedroom and handed Michael the rope.

Pushing it back at me he told me to tie my feet to the bed. I crawled on and tied a length of rope to the bedpost, my right ankle, then to my left ankle, and to the other bedpost. I took another line and tied my left hand to the top bedpost, and then looked at him to see if he would help me with the other hand.

Climbing over me he leaned over to tie my right hand to that bedpost, and as he was leaning over I reached up my head and kissed his ribs. Quickly he pulled away.

"Did I tell you you could do that?" he hissed.

I shook my head no.

"Do not do anything I don't tell you to do. Got it?" I nodded yes, even though I was afraid that I would forget and he would punish me. Standing at the side of the bed Michael looked over my body. I pulled against the ropes a bit to test them, and the line bit into my skin painfully. It was also totally arousing. I could smell my sex in the air, and wanted terribly for Michael to start fucking me.

He didn't.

The utter helplessness I felt was making me so hot and he could tell. He reached out and began to play with my nipples. I moaned. It was so frustrating to feel his hands on me, but only in small areas. I needed his hands everywhere. I needed him inside me, but I dared not ask. For the next several minutes he teased my nipples then my whole breast, alternating between pinching the nipples, and squeezing my tits. I could feel juices sliding down into the crack of my ass. I had never been so wet in my life.

"What are you afraid of now?" Michael whispered.

Immediately I said, "That you won't fuck me."

"Are you that big a slut? Are you so horny from being tied up? Why do you deserve what you want if you are such a bad girl?"

I had no answer, but I didn't want to avoid answering a direct question. I moaned again.

"I am a slut. I need you in me but I don't know how to make you do it."

"You can't make me do anything. You are powerless."

I had some sort of brain orgasm at that. It just rocked my mind to hear him tell me I could do nothing. It was the most exciting concept I could imagine.

"Yes I'm helpless. I can't do anything. Please I beg you to fuck me. Oh god I need to be fucked!"

"Begging is good, but don't tell me what you need. I already know. What I don't know is why I should. Can you think of a good reason why I should give you anything?"

"Because I want to please you. I want to make you feel good. I'll do anything for you."

"Good."

Michael climbed up on the bed and just shoved his cock in my mouth. I wasn't even ready, but I opened up for him and swallowed as much as I could. As he moved in and out of my mouth I licked and suckled and strained to get as much of it in my mouth as I could. If he wanted a blow job then I was going to give him the best blowjob I could. I paid close attention to how he moved, and what he reacted to best. I was a cock sucking machine. He seemed to like to be deep in my throat and having me suck hard on him. It was really hard to do, but I tried my best. Once in a while he would take it out and rub it all over my face. My drool was covering my face and dribbling down into my hair. I felt dirty and nasty and loved it. He made me suck on his balls for a while, then fucked my face some more. That is what he called it, fucking my face, and it sounded so sexy to me.

Far too quickly he started to cum. I was so happy to have made him cum that I was nearly had my own orgasm. Spurt after spurt of warm thick cum filled my mouth and it was glorious. Here I was tied to my bed, powerless and I was able to bring him pleasure. The strange unique smell of sperm filled my nostrils and I was in heaven. It was the best feeling in the world to be his slave.

Michael pulled out of my mouth and sat on the bed between my legs. I couldn't reach out and stroke him, or kiss him or anything. Idly he ran a finger down my soaking pussy and into my butt crack; it was so wet as he lifted his finger I could see my juices dripping down. Leaning forward he put his finger in my mouth and I tasted myself for the first time. It was a beautiful taste, both secret and spiritual. I must have made a noise, or a face that told him how I felt because he began to finger me and make me taste it. I was quickly reaching orgasm as he finally touched my burning hole, but it was arrhythmic and not long enough to actually get me off. The closer I got the faster he went, then suddenly he would stop and make me taste myself again. I was so frustrated, but it was excellent.

At some signal that I missed Michael decided that it was time to fuck me. He climbed above me, and when I realized what was about to happen, I bit my lip to keep from screaming at him to do it. Looking down at me, Michael seemed to gauge whether I was ready, or something. I just looked up at him pleading with my eyes, but not saying anything.

Then he placed the head of his penis into my opening. Being stretched wide, but not filled was maddening. My breath was coming in gasps. I was trembling with the effort not to rise up off the bed and engulf him. Perhaps he was testing my resolve, because he stayed there with just the head of his penis in my opening for what seemed like forever. My shivers became tremors, then little spasms, but still he held back.

"Please." I begged finally unable to stay silent." Oh please fuck me! Please!"

"Beg." He ordered."

With permission to beg, the flood gates opened. I begged as if my life depended on it. And I wasn't just playing the part. I needed to be filled with him like it was a hunger. I needed his cock inside me desperately.

I must have pleased him because suddenly I felt him thrust inside my cunt with all his strength. My orgasm was immediate and powerful. I arched up at him and began to scream. My throat was raw for two days after. I couldn't move my arms or legs but later Michael told me that I nearly bucked him off I was thrusting so hard up at him. I had rope burns on my wrists and ankles from the violence of that orgasm. I had to wear long sleeves and pants for weeks, even though this was July and it was so hot out that I nearly got heat stroke.

I was out of my mind and it was awesome. I was hooked.

But this isn't the moment I needed to write about. This is just the background.

After a few more months of fantastic sex I was a confirmed submissive. I wanted to do anything that would give me that feeling of helpless power. That is what it is like for me. When I am helpless I know that I am irresistible to the right kind of man, and it makes me feel so powerful to be that vulnerable. I would do anything for Michael to get him to fuck me to that total bliss. I gave him whatever he wanted, and he gave me exactly what I wanted.

So one day in the afternoon just after University started again Michael and I were in Chinatown window shopping when something, I never found out what, made him really horny. Maybe it was me, I was wearing this tiny summer dress, it was really hot, and Michael loved the idea of other men looking at my body. We had had sex in some pretty risky places just on the off chance that some other guy might see me naked. I was a gymnast, and had a really tight, toned body so I guess I understood. Anyway Michael started to feel my ass through the thin material of my dress, and instantly I was totally wet. As we walked along Michael seemed utterly oblivious to the people looking at us as he lifted my hem up over my panties and reached down and began to play with my ass. We still hadn't had anal sex, but I loved it when he fingered me there. It seemed so taboo.

I was inwardly horrified and wanted to cover up, but I was too far gone down the submissive path to tell him to stop. Michael paused to look at some window display and reached his other hand up to my breasts. He squeezed them and got my nipples hard. I wasn't wearing a bra and my nipples strained through the cloth, clearly visible to anyone looking. My legs began to get wobbly as I felt passion wash over me. I was a rag doll, his for anything Michael wanted. We continued down the street, and a crowd of boys began to follow us. Everywhere I looked people were staring at us. I was blushing furiously. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, and my throat was dry.

There was this fountain thing in the street where people threw pennies for luck. Michael led me over to it, and leaned me against the wall surrounding it. The wall was around my waist height and I placed my hands on it to steady myself. Michael looked me in the eye, and whispered.

"What are you afraid of?"

I licked my lips and leaned into his ear. Looking over his shoulder I saw what seemed to be hundreds of people watching us.

"I'm afraid you will fuck me here in front of this crowd."

I pulled back and looked him in the eye. I could see the lust and confidence there, but I also saw a type of madness. He was so into this, and I was egging him on. It was crazy, but it was the most surreal, sexy thing I could think of. Michael stepped away from me and pulled me to him. We kissed, and then he walked around behind me. I looked up again and saw all those faces watching every move we made. There were dozens of cameras and for a second all I could think of were all the kids at my school looking at pictures of me on the internet and masturbating.

Then before I could explore that thought, Michael reached up and pulled my top down over my breasts. I swear I heard a gasp from the crowd, like a game show sound. Michael began to massage my tender tits and I leaned back into him pressing my ass into his groin. I could feel his hard on straining against me, and knew that I would do anything for this man.

Roaming all over my body his hands pulled my dress this way and that, never fully exposing me, but not leaving any part of my body to the imagination. He pulled my panties down to my knees and fingered my moist slit, parting me so that everyone could see my inner lips. God I was so close to orgasm that I could hardly even breathe.

I heard him unzip his pants and felt him spread me open to enter me. Placing his cock at my entrance he paused again. I loved that so much, the anticipation and frustration building. It was incredible.

With one hand he pulled my arms one at a time behind me, and held both wrists with one of his hands pushing me forward he forced me to lean away from him and bend at the waist. Then with the other hand on my hip he plunged into my depths. Immediately my orgasm began deep in my feet and spread up my body. As he began to pump into me hard, using my arms as leverage to pull me in and out, my climax passed my chest and it flushed bright red, then my lips parted in a barely audible primal howl. I came and came. It would subside for a moment then suddenly rise again as Michael mercilessly hammered my tender pussy. Wave after wave of orgasm powered through me, as Michael fucked me like a jack-hammer. Again and again he pushed into the very depths of me, and my body would convulse with pleasure.

Happily he wasn't able to last long, (sometime he could go for hours and never cum,) I couldn't take much more. It was probably only a few minutes but it felt like an eternity when I felt his cock swell inside me. Michael pushed me away and I fell to my knee in front of him, and opened my greedy mouth to accept his load. It seemed like a gallon of sperm filed my mouth. Michael's orgasm was so intense that he couldn't hold still enough for me to catch all of his warm spunk in my mouth. I couldn't hold him and he splashed some on my tits, and in my hair, and all over my face. I felt as though there had never been a bigger slut than I was right there; nor had there ever been a slut more proud of herself. Here was my man having the most intense orgasm I'd ever seen, all over me, because I would do anything to please him.

I came back to reality when I heard shouting from the back of the crowd.

The police were trying to get through, but no one would let them. I looked up at Michael and he lifted me to my feet. I was barely able to stand my legs were so weak, but I did. Pulling up the top of my dress Michael lead me through the crowd out the other way from where the voices were shouting to be let through. We moved as quickly as we were able but the men were reaching out to touch me. Again I felt the thrill of vulnerability and fear as I worried that these men would all suddenly try and fuck me, but Michael just pulled me along behind him and we quickly broke through.

There I was on a public street with my dress all askew, cum all over my face and wobbling along on legs made rubber by multiple orgasms and I'd never felt more alive.

I've never topped that moment, but I have come awfully close. If enough people read this maybe I'll tell you about some of those experiences.

I really am a slut.