She created a profile on a popular alternative lifestyle website, stating that she was 28, auburn-haired, brown-eyed, and curvy. She also included pictures of her 5’4″ frame, with her wide hips, plump ass, and small breasts. For good measure, she posted an ad in search of a dominant male, explaining that she was new to this world but that the idea of submission interests her and that she was looking for someone who could mentor her. Of course, she was almost immediately bombarded by men of all ages, sending her pictures of their cocks, claiming to be the man she was looking for. Except for one. His message was very personable and descriptive.
He wrote about who he was, inquired about details she had included in her profile, and just had a tone that spoke to her. She looked at his profile before deciding whether to respond or not. She learned that he was looking for a submissive woman and included some of his likes, dislikes, and basic expectations. His profile listed him as 38 years old, standing 5’10” and 185lbs, with brown hair and eyes. His name was Peter, his photos were tasteful, and she found his physique attractive. He certainly is handsome, she thought, and I’ve never been with an older guy. Maybe this is what she needed.
She had replied to his message, and then their correspondence began. After several days of messaging through the platform, she felt comfortable enough to share her email with him. Shortly after that, her phone number. They texted all day, nearly every day. Their conversations flowed freely and were very interactive. He gave her resources for researching more about the Dominant/Submissive lifestyle, which he seemed to live by. The more she read, the more she wanted this. To be a real Dom’s submissive sounded precisely what she wanted. A relationship based on trust, communication, and serving each other’s needs, wants, and desires. To feel owned, cherished…loved. Yes, this sounded exactly like what she needed.
Over the next several weeks, Amber learned more about what would be expected of her as a submissive. Peter had her fill out a questionnaire related to kinks, likes, dislikes, and limits. She wasn’t sure how she would feel about receiving pain, but she wanted to try it. She wanted to try sensory deprivation, rope bondage, wax-play…there were a plethora of things to try! Breeding? Something about that caused a twitch. And then there was Consensual/Non-consent…what was this all about, she wondered. She delved deeper into the subject, and it sounded scary yet enticing. Peter cautioned about the risks of everything and emphasized the importance of trust, which excited her more. They talked about all of this and more throughout many conversations.
They eventually met in person, where he took her to an upscale restaurant, and they shared the most wonderful meal. This was followed by several more “dates”…a spontaneous meeting at a cafe…a walk in the park…another lovely dinner. He was always a perfect gentleman to her and never once made a move on her. He said that she would know when he would kiss her because he would ask for consent first and always. He was like that…always so calm and measured during their time together, and she felt so at ease because of it. But also incredibly aroused by it. Why hasn’t he kissed me, she would think to herself. She did everything she could to entice him, but she would find herself alone in her apartment with moist panties each time.
Amber eventually wanted more and told Peter so. She tried to discuss becoming his submissive. He seemed delighted and created a contract for them, including everything they had discussed previously. They reviewed it together while Peter pushed her to ensure she negotiated for what she wanted. He always seemed to have her best interest in mind. It was exciting and refreshing for her. They each signed the contract over a video call together due to his travel schedule and her eagerness to get started. They planned to celebrate together at a resort 30 miles away, where they would meet upon his return. He made all of the arrangements, sent her all of the details, and even sent her money to buy an outfit for the occasion.
That night is finally here. Her anticipation and excitement for this night has had her throbbing and needy with excitement. She is waiting in their hotel room when she receives a text message:
“I’ll be there in 15 minutes,” it reads.
“Yay! I’m so excited to see you! I hope you are too?” Amber responds to the text, butterflies floating in her stomach.
“You have no idea. I will remind you now of our contract and of our agreements. Do you remember your safewords?” he replied.
Amber hesitates for a moment before responding. She suddenly feels a twinge of fear from his ominous text.
“Yes, I do remember our agreements and my safewords.”
Amber sits on the bed, fidgeting for what seems like forever, when she hears a keycard slip into the door. He has arrived, so she stands to greet him. Peter looks weary and very serious. Her eyes lock on his as he walks toward her. Amber feels as though something has shifted between them. She steps backward, intimidated, but finds herself backed into the wall. His arms come up above her shoulders, leaning against the wall, trapping her…his eyes still…keeping her ensnared.
Her stomach flutters. Peter presses his body against hers. She gasps. His eyes stare intensely at hers, and he takes one hand off the wall to lift her chin, leaning down and roughly pressing his mouth to hers. Overwhelmed, she struggles slightly, but his body holds her in place. She can feel his cock bulging against the confines of his jeans, pressing against her pelvis. A whimper of fear mixed with sudden arousal escapes her lips as his tongue forces its way into her mouth and dances with hers. His hand slides up to her neck, fingers combing through her hair and gripping firmly. His touch is electrifying to her, but she tries to resist. He pulls her against him even tighter. She can feel his hardness against her…feel it throbbing…thick and engorged.
His need grows. He tugs Amber’s hair down, guiding her head down his body, forcing her onto her knees. Her hands rest on his thighs, half pushing him away, half gripping them in desire. She has never had a man treat her this way. A part of her wants to slap him in defiance. Yet another throbs with need. She attempts to look away from him, but his grip on her hair tightens, not allowing it. He guides her face towards his crotch. She tries to turn away, but his hold on her is too strong. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans with his free hand, pulling them down slightly. He reaches into the folds of his jeans and pulls out his cock, its weight evident as it springs forth and presses against her cheek.
“Suck it,” he commands. Amber shakes her head, her eyes trying to look away. “This isn’t up for debate,” he says with another tug of her hair. “You will suck my cock, slut.”
Her body uncontrollably flushes with anger and desire at the word slut. What is it about that word, and why the fuck am I doing this, she questions herself, “I’m not a slut”, she meekly replies, “I was trying to be good for you.” Her eyes look up at him pleadingly. His steady gaze informs her that one way or another, she’s going to suck his cock, and he’s not going to like it if she doesn’t willingly submit.
She turns her gaze on his cock, its thick, veiny flesh now reality before her. Thoughts are spiraling through her head. This is surreal. Is this really happening? Her tongue slowly licks her lips.
Is this what I want?
She opens her mouth slightly…he tugs on her hair, pulling her towards his cockhead. He groans as her lips wrap around it, the taste of precum hitting her tongue. He tastes salty-sweet and pleasing to her. She slowly inches more and more of him into her mouth, her lips engulfing his girth. She bobs her head back and forth slightly, her tongue gently pressing the underside of his cock. His shaft is hard, hot, and slick with her saliva. Her hands grip his hips as she attempts to take as much of him as possible into her throat.
Is this what I want?
Eventually, he hits the back of her throat. She gags, then backs off his fleshy member slightly, her eyes looking up at him. “Take it ALL. Gag on my fucking cock,” he demands as he presses himself into her throat again. She’s beginning to lose herself to him.
Why do I want this?
“Oh, fuck. Such a slut. You fucking want this. Hell, you need this. You’ve been dying to eat this cock. You can’t help yourself, can you?” She tries to say no. But all she can do is desperately moan around his cock. Her head is spinning. He is thrusting in and out of her mouth faster.
“You want me to come down your throat, don’t you slut? Or maybe you would prefer to wear it on your face?” he says through clenched teeth as her breathing becomes audible gulps for air. “Show me how bad you want me to come.”
*gluck, gluck, gluck *
“My God, your mouth feels good!” he exclaims as he watches her lips glide along his shaft, drool gathering in greater amounts along their edge. This form of praise weirdly excites her more. His cockhead is disappearing in her open, hungry mouth, and he feels it press into the back of her throat. He groans and pulls her head from his cock.
“Sorry, slut. It’s not going to be that easy.” Peter scoffs, pushing her back onto the floor, then kisses her again. His tongue forces itself into her mouth. She wonders if he cares about tasting himself on her, but that is soon lost as she feels his knee part her legs, pressing against her bare pussy. She remembers she is not wearing any panties under her skirt and again questions herself. She prays he doesn’t realize how fucking soaked she really is.