A Submissive's Birthday Surprise by subm_atty
"Surprise me, Mistress." Something I have now learned can be a mistake to say to your wife when she is also your Domme. And it can be an even bigger mistake when your wife never made any apologies about being completely fucked-up and twisted. I was never a fan of birthdays, and with my 50
th
birthday just a couple of months away, she asked the simple question of what I wanted to do to celebrate. Turning 50 was making me feel old, and I didn't need anything I didn't already have, so I was going to leave any celebration to her imagination. Before I did that, I probably should have remembered the warning or, better yet, the "promise" from our wedding vows 5 years earlier.
Our life together by that time was extremely comfortable. After finishing law school, I accepted a job as a corporate attorney with a friend at a brand-new internet start-up company on the West Coast. The first few years I took a reduced salary for more company stock. The company took off and my salary and the value of my stock increased with it. By the time I reached 40, I was driving a fancy car and living in a fancy house on one of the best golf courses in the area. It was very nice.
While the work-life was great, my personal life had not been. I had a few relationships that fizzled out during my 20's and 30's, but I never found that woman that connected with me. You don't want to think it was about sex, but it probably was. I am a submissive, something I realized in college reading porn magazines. That is not completely unusual among successful men, but it often doesn't mesh with what women are looking for. And in my case, that was true. I looked very ordinary with glasses and thinning hair and needed to lose about 40 pounds. It also didn't help that my cock was very small. Not below average small. Tiny. So if the relationship finally got to the place where I had to show it to her, things often drifted in the wrong direction after that.
If I couldn't have a lifetime relationship, I decided instead to meet up with a few professional dominant women for fun. One Domme became more of a therapist for me during our sessions. She loved to dress me up in a bra and panties or lingerie because, "With that clit, no matter what any woman says, in her heart you will always be nothing more than a cuckold sissy bitch to her, so embrace it." And that revelation worked for me.
At her direction, I started wearing panties all the time under my clothes and began to accept my inadequacies. During that same time, I also posted a discreet profile on several BDSM sites that catered to the type of relationship I was looking for and revealed all my perversions. Better to get it all out there so nothing comes as too much of a shock later. Even with that new philosophy, nothing changed much for the next few years. Then I met Sarah.
Sarah was hired as the administrative assistant to the head of the legal department--my boss--right after getting her Masters' Degree in college. Despite her age, she dressed and acted like a woman that meant business. She was also very attractive. She was tall with long red hair pulled back in a ponytail and a very nice body. She had a few extra pounds here and there, but that just made her look more powerful. She also seemed to be pissed off every second of the day. If she could smile, no one saw it at the office. And when she needed to talk to me about business matters, she got straight to the point. I was always a bit afraid of her and struggled to make eye contact whenever we talked. That was odd for me because in my job with corporate legal I met with powerful business people every day and I never felt uneasy around them. Watching her at the office, I was developing a bit of a crush and must confess that I frequently masturbated at home thinking about her standing over me. But she was young and way out of my league.
At my job, like most corporate jobs, there are a lot of committees and initiatives that someone near the top comes up with to make our actual jobs that much harder. On one of those committees, I ended up paired with Sarah. I really didn't want to be on any committee, but at least this was a nice bonus. When we had our first meeting to discuss a plan, she seemed to have it all figured out. She did ask me for my ideas, but at the end, she took full control and told me what I needed to do. Probably more accurately, what she demanded that I do.
We had weekly follow-up meetings over the next few months and it seemed like every week the she came up with more tedious tasks that she wanted done right away. I was working extra hours every weekend just to keep up with all of her demands on this committee. I probably would have pushed back more with anyone else, but I was attracted to her and really wanted to please her. Apparently, I did, because at the end of the project our ideas--well, actually her ideas--were adopted and we both were recognized with kudos from upper management and a nice financial reward. I was a bit shocked when she gave me a big smile when she heard the news. Seeing her smile for the first time, I melted.
A few weeks after that on a Friday, Sarah came into my office late in the day and asked if I could give her a ride home. She said her car was in the shop for repairs. I, of course, agreed. When it was time to leave, she came to my office with a large rolling cart stacked with boxes. She apologized for all the boxes but said she needed them at home to work over the weekend. "No problem," I said. We loaded the car and I drove her home. We chatted along the way and it was very friendly. She seemed to be wearing a shorter dress than usual that day and I couldn't help but glance from time to time at her legs as she sat next to me. I really hoped she didn't notice that.
When we got to her place, I assisted her in carrying the boxes into her condo. To my surprise, it was colorfully decorated with what could only be described as a "Wonder Woman" theme. She had lots of memorabilia on shelves and on the wall. She laughed and admitted that she was a huge "superhero and comic book nerd." "Don't tell anyone at work or I will have to tie you up with my Lasso of Truth." I laughed but was also very turned on just thinking about it. She thanked me for the ride and invited me to have a drink before I went home. Like a typical Friday evening, I had no plans, so I quickly agreed.
We sipped our drinks while we chatted. Despite the 20-year age difference, we discovered that we liked the same movies and television shows. We listened to the same music and podcasts. We were also annoyed by the same people at the office. She asked me why I wasn't married and I just told her that I never could find the right match. She joked, "Yes. It can be hard to find someone as twisted as you are." We both laughed.
In this setting, Sarah was so much different than what I saw at work every day. She then asked if she could get me another drink. I told her I didn't think I should because I needed to drive home and that the first one was pretty strong. She said not to worry and that she would get me something with no alcohol this time. I was on board. She excused herself and said she would change clothes and get me my drink. I asked to use the bathroom while she changed and she pointed down the hall. When I got to the bathroom, I noticed the door next to it was closed and there was a large padlock on it. That certainly seemed strange and I hoped that wasn't where she stored the decomposing bodies of the men she killed. I used the bathroom and returned to the living room.
It was about 10 more minutes before I heard the sound of shoes walking down the hall on the wooden floor. I turned in my chair and was stunned as she walked back into the living room. The "all-business" administrative assistant who was always in a conservative business suit with her hair in a ponytail now was dressed from head to toe in leather with her hair down. Her leather corset displayed her large breasts prominently. Her leather skirt barely went more than halfway down to her knees. And her feet were both clad in long leather boots with 6-inch spiked heels. In her hand was a champagne glass nearly filled to the top. I was speechless and just stared. She handed me the glass and said just one word, "Drink."
I took the glass and the yellow contents were still warm. I was very familiar with the smell. I hesitated a moment and looked up at her towering over me and then did what any submissive would do when a beautiful woman gave him a glass of her piss, I began to drink it down. It was bitter but delicious. It didn't take long before I swallowed all of it and reflexively licked my lips at the end. Her expression suddenly turned from stern to beaming. "Oh yes, you are going to make a VERY good slut."
Sarah then pulled over a bar stool and sat down directly in front of me. I had to look up from my chair to make eye contact as her boots and her crossed legs were only inches away from my crotch. She looked incredible. "Congratulations. You just aced your final exam, 'subslut_atty823'." I know my eyes must have widened in shock as she referred to me by my screen name on FetLife. "Yes slut, I know
all
about you. You are quite the perv. The people at the office would be stunned at your long list of fetishes--bondage, butt plugs, chastity devices, strap-ons, humiliation, cock and ball torture, piercings, cuckolding, feminization, piss drinking, and my personal favorite, cock sucking. And that is only a small part of the list." I was blushing and starting to sweat.
