The Making of a DomiNOT!

I look up the private club in the Net. Not so private, too easy to find. I tried to give her some general advice. Thanks to Sir Nathan, I could give her more than general advice. She lets it slip that she will be wearing a collar. I did sneer at that.

"Why a collar? Are you a slave?"

"No, it is just a party."

"Did you consider having your boyfriend wear the collar?"

Just a try. Why not? She can be really mean!

"It is either me or him."

"Well, just make sure they understand what it means to you."

The boyfriend was going mostly to make sure she was going to be ok. In truth, if he had not, I might have had to accompany her myself. My husband thought I was invited for some reason, but I was not.

I would not have accepted that invitation so lightly, had it come. It could change my life in one night.

So I pestered her with my old auntie BDSM advice – how she knew she could talk to us about this I am afraid to ask. I lent her a beloved black velvet dress, though their dress had been pre-approved, she loved it so much she redid the pre-approval process. I did hope she was not lying about the slave part, I'd hate for her to be punished because of me. It is a beautiful dress, and it won't fit me since the baby anyway, and it used to be perfect form fitting for me. It is for her, now.

She had a lot of fun. She could happen on this story as well so I will leave her out of it as well. She jested that now I knew where the place was, and I could just show up there myself.

Not so easy. I can't just put a collar for the night.

That weekend I wrote my first decent BDSM story. All of a sudden it was slut here, whore there. Threaten a little here, and yes Sir through and through. I might post it, I might not. My first decent session is a work in progress.

In one hand I think getting beaten is abuse, on the other, I slap my own pussy for fun.

Slut.

Intellectually, from the stories, I understood how it worked for others. Now, after writing my own, I think that for the first time I understand how it could work for me.

^^*^^

Now we are getting to the difficult part.

Present day.

Husband also heard all the fun stories about the fun party. We are having a blast with it, calling each other names and stuff.

Fun, eh?

No. I am tired of hearing about ball tying. I am not impervious to the charm of leather.

Two days ago he made a silly bet with me. I am this encyclopedia of useless knowledge; he remembers not his own birthday. But in his infinite wisdom, he insists on arguing with me about everything.

I bet him wrong.

If I am right, I am tying his balls. I know where the bondage store is.

He is so unassertive when it comes to me, I got to pick what he gets if he wins.

I choose something real easy for me, thought it is something he likes. I am good Mistress.

Unimportant anyway, because he lost.

^^*^^

Today.

Again talking about BDSM. He says he does not get it, and I give some lame explanation, trying not to sound like the authority I am not. He claims not to understand.

Later he comes back from the store, presents me with a tape shaped bubble gum contraption, which he wants me to tie his balls with.

He is asking for it!

Sorry, dear. I prefer leather. And you are going to wait for this until I can get my busy ass to the store to get them, until I get to the Internet to learn how to do it.

I mean, I might want another child from those.

Two hours later, the man who claimed he did not understand what BDSM does, quietly informed me he had an ongoing erection for the past two days, because of all the talk. Voila, dear.

That is what it does.

^^*^^

I am back from the shower where I just did the one thing I thought I would never do.

I told him what to do.

I ordered him to do it.

It is just a game now. I know.

But who knows where it will lead?

***

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