Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Unexpected change of plans

I've always been super submissive, almost to a fault sometimes. However every now and again I get the urge to switch roles and become dominant. I don't know if it's sort of a defense mechanism to make up for being such a sissy bitch the other 99.8% of the time I'm with Mistress or just a way to please my Mistress. You see, Mistress used to be very submissive herself and only recently begun to explore the darker, more dominant side of her sexual personality. On occasion I feel the need to provide her with what I think she was craving, a strong dominant man to control her sexually.

It definitely felt weird suddenly turning away from my basic nature of bowing at her feet to suddenly put on this act of being menacing and in control. It was rather apparent from the beginning that any chance of her feeling like a true sub before me was just not going to happen. It started with small things, like her telling me me we needed to maybe have a week or so of "vanilla" time between our normal practice of me serving her and this past weekend when she would attempt to be submissive to me once again. I suppose it hard to feel threatened by a man you only days before had dressed in a frilly pink satin sissy dress, begging you to find a larger cock to shove up his slut whore ass.

I tried my best, sending demanding email orders, degrading her by txt message. I almost thought it was working until this past Sunday when she basically laughed at my Dom screen name I had set up and belittled me with snide comments throughout the morning before we had planned to play. Then it only got worse, I told her flatly that I wanted her to eat lunch, have a drink with me and then we would begin. She had other ideas. We ate together then she said she was going into the bedroom to get some work done. Almost four hours later when I had worked up the nerve to go confront her I found her asleep on our bed.  Obviously she was in mortal fear of my intimidating presence and would never do anything to disrespect me....

At this point a real man would have marched in there, grabbed her by the hair, slapped her awake and demanded the respect a true Master was due. Instead I acted like a bratty little girl, didn't say a word and threw a hissy fit, basically curling up into a ball and sulking. More then anything, upset by the fact that maybe it was true, maybe I am just a sissy little bitch after all.

Fast forward to the following day. It was apparent that Mistress felt sorry for me and tried her best to put on an act and pretend like I was in charge. She graciously allowed me to tie her up, but I could see from the expression on her face that it wasn't the same. Her pussy didn't start leaking when I touched her, not like the way it did on previous occasions when she would recount stories of men who had truly dominated her before we had met. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but after a while all of that didn't matter anymore and I was actually starting to believe that she was powerless before me. That she was enjoying that fact that I was the dominant one for a change. It felt kind of good to tell you the truth, for a change not to be the one humiliated and degraded, totally ashamed of who you were.

Of course it didn't take long before things came crashing back to reality. Though out the day, when Mistress had been "good" as a submissive I would reward her by using a vibrator on her, etc. At this particular point in time I felt she had earned another reward, this time, allowing her to straddle my face in a 69 position so I could tongue her pussy. (Btw, notice how even when I'm the so called dominant I still either consciously or subconsciously exhibit sub tendencies like placing her ass on top of my face to orally please her as opposed to say having her lay on her back or for that matter not even bother to provide the submissive act of oral at all?). In a flash I felt her thighs lock tight like a vise around my head and her ass come crashing down on my face. I had never in a million years expected such a total rebuke of what little "authority" I thought I had. She continued to smother my face with her pussy while grinding her ass down with all of her might on me.

I struggled to free by myself but she wouldn't budge, she just rammed down harder on top of me, suffocating me more ferociously with each passing second. In a panic I managed to reach out and tap her thigh, the signal that I was short on air and about to pass out. I freaked as instead she just kept grinding her pussy down on my face harder and harder. It was only at the very last possible second did she finally lift up. Barely allowing me to catch a short breath of air before her beautiful ass slammed down again to smother me once more.
This continued for a while, at an intensity level she had never even come close to approaching before.

She didn't have to say a word, the meaning was clear. *She* had finished playing and the "game" was now over. It was back to the way things were supposed to be, her sissy cowering before her, anxious to serve and pleasure her as she saw fit.

If Mistress did say anything immediately after that brutal face smothering I can honestly say I didn't hear them. I was in such a daze, no not a daze, but more precisely enveloped in a feeling of being free, of knowing where I belonged and joyous in my renewed servitude to my Mistress. All I remember after that are donning the thigh high pink boots Mistress bought me for Christmas and snuggling up next to her. I was "home" once again...

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