A Dom/Sub Cultivation

At 26 yrs old, I saw a magazine photo of a Dominatrix. I was enthralled! I could not pull my eyes away, even though there were other guys around, who might notice my over-fascination. Instantly realized I was a submissive. I envisioned myself kneeling in front of her, yearning to serve her. Up to that moment, I'd been totally Alpha, but no more. I quickly left that friends' apartment with the magazine folded and hidden in my pants. I was a changed person; I knew I'd never be the same.

An inner slave had been laying dormant in my sexual psyche, and it exploded into my reality. It was all I could think about. I wanted, (no, needed), to be a sex slave.

If my life were a puzzle, a giant piece just fell into place; my sexuality was redefined.

It seemed my every thought was now sexualized. Every action was now influenced. I saw all women differently. ANY woman could now OWN me. All any woman had to do was tap the submissive slave that increasingly welled within me. My mind had been taken hostage by my own sexuality. Literally any female, if she only knew my secret, could look me in the eye, point to the floor, and I'd be on my knees before her.

My singular sexual fantasy was as a Submissive to a woman. I scoured the internet, learning all I could, (stroking myself the whole time). I NEEDED to serve as a willing slave; no other sexuality existed for me. This would be my new life, and it would influence every decision henceforth.

Most women sought a "husband" or "provider", and never imagined a submissive male partner, so it took me a while. I had to cultivate such a relationship. I have had two major such relationships, (and a few minor sub/dom relationships), all driven by my sub-sexuality.

All the following is true.

My first experience was a booze influence one-nighter. I told her I had scarves at the corners of my bed, and she was game. We took turns; first she was bound spread-eagle. She submitted completely, taking me in her mouth, allowing me to do as I pleased. I fucked her and quickly came inside her. It was child's play, but it was a start. We stayed naked, and after a while, upon my insistence, I was the one bound to the bed, and again, we merely went through the motions, with not much imagination. First I licked her, then she straddle-fucked me, I came, and it was over. The one thing that hit me; I entertained the idea that she make me lick her clean after I came. Part of me wanted this, and part of me was revolted. This love/hate theme is a powerful component in my dom/sub world, and remains to this day.

I had a few more short forays. I became more direct, quickly hinting about my sexual motives. I discovered a common theme; many women imagined themselves to be submissive, but never imagined me, the (alpha) man, as sub. Their fantasies were to be "forced" to do unladylike things, and so I found myself fulfilling their fantasies, but not mine. I could not seem to flip the dynamic, so these relationships were short lived. I realized, such a relationship needed to be cultivated.

I began dating a woman named Sara. She was similar to all the previous, except she had no interest in being bound, or "forced" into anything herself, and no interest in seeing me that way. She was highly sexed, but just wanted conventional fucking; lots of conventional fucking, where I ground my pelvis hard against her, which always made her come. The major issue was if I came first; that made her unhappy, and unsatisfied. So my first (totally voluntary) training began; on which she fully agreed; I had to arrange such that Sara's pleasure, and orgasm, always came first.

I was enthusiastically accommodating; that's how she saw it, simply that I cared about her needs. My perspective was vastly different. I saw myself as her sex slave, that her needs were paramount. I would fuck her for her pleasure only, and I'd never orgasm, until she allowed it. Being young, it was very difficult for me to not come; I was constantly withdrawing until the urge subsided, which disrupted her pleasure. I discovered that a small dose of Viagra kept me super hard, which she thoroughly enjoyed, and enabled adequate control of my orgasm.

We settled into a routine. Now I could meet her needs. Her preference was I would be on top, grinding as she had taught me, (never my full weight on her body). I was to always pay close attention to her ques, until she had a nice, gushing orgasm, upon which, I was to remain inside her, but completely still. This was exquisite torture, on which I thrived. Supported on my elbows, I was to hold my chest weight slightly off her body, and remain perfectly still, while she reveled in orgasmic afterglow. Always, without exception, after 10 or 15 minutes, I would (submissively) ask if I could continue. If she said yes, I remained devoted to her pleasure, beginning very slowly, easing into a pace she liked.

Many times, she would re-engage, and I would bring her to a second orgasm, and the process of being perfectly still was repeated. Again, after a few minutes, I'd ask if I could continue, and usually she said yes. I was committed to my sub role, so as my orgasm approached, I always asked, "May I come?"

She usually just nodded. I would erupt, and while coming, gushingly say, "Thank you," hinting that she had dominion over my orgasm.

The power of those orgasms was highly addictive, and I was willingly hooked.

They were beyond any I'd ever dreamed of, and like any addict, I chased the next one harder and harder. I told myself I was Sara's slave, but was actually a slave to my own sexuality.

Sara had become accustomed to my total and devoted commitment that her needs were paramount. I took every opportunity to subtly behave like I was her slave, without ever actually saying so, and she came to expect it. I constantly dropped hints that it brought me great pleasure to serve her every need. She became used to me devotedly massaging her feet, or a full body massage, if she so desired.

We always met at her apartment, never at mine.

I had long since purchased the skimpiest male underwear I could find, so after sex, I wore my tiny male "panties", while she wore a nice fluffy robe, thus, we regularly had a "clothed female, naked male" dynamic. I made a point to mince around her apartment in my "panties", while she was fully dressed. She'd once casually mentioned she did not like hairy men, so I shaved all my body hair, adding to my nakedness dynamic.

Sometimes after her orgasm, and our "stillness" period, she'd simply say, "I'm done," and I would slowly withdraw, still very hard, still very horny, and totally submissive.

I would pull on my male panties while still very hard, and we'd retire to the couch with her feet in my lap, and (with baby oil) I'd devotedly massage her feet, while she called her girlfriend, Joy.

One time, ignoring me, they chatted, and I massage one foot, while subtly humping my hard cock against the other foot. She gave me a "look", and I immediately stopped, but it was too late. She pointed to the floor, and I lay on the floor, on my back, and she rested her oily feet on my chest, and I continued the foot massage, while my hard cock, quite visible in my tiny underwear, had no chance for stimulus, which only stoked my submissive fires. She moved one foot up to my face, so I licked and sucked the oiled toes of that foot, while massaging the other.

She told her friend what was happening.

"He's sucking your toes?!" She exclaimed!

And Sara told her how, if not allowed to come, I was completely attentive. Her friend was intrigued. She described my hard cock in my tiny male panties, and they decided I should wear girl panties; and my excitement was palpable. They also decided, (although they perhaps were kidding), that Sara might "loan" me to her friend.

I was then dispatched to Sara's panty drawer, and brought them all, (there must have been 50 pairs), and poured them onto the coffee table. I tried them on as she directed, (my hard-on raging), and was given some 10 pairs of panties. From now on, I'd wear panties. I was so hard, and so excited, I was beside myself. She described the entire scene to her friend on the phone. She hung up so she could take some photos.

As she took photos of me in various panties, I beseeched, "Please let me come." She made a wry smile, but said nothing.

"Please, I said, "Let me jack off, right here in front of you. Let me come on your beautiful feet, and then you can make me lick them clean."

She thought for a minute, and then said "OK."

I tore off the panties, moved the coffee table, and kneeled with knees spread on either side of her feet. I began stroking, looking directly in her eyes. She looked down at my hairless cock, observing my twitching body, while my eyes remained glued to hers'. "Don't come until I say so," asserting her status. "Now?" I said, "Mistress, may I come?" She nodded, and I came as never before, shooting up to her knees, and all over her feet, and dribbling every last drop on her toes. Not a drop went on the floor.

I was given no time to recover, she simply said, "Get to work," and I began licking.

I'd fantasied licking cum during masturbation, but always bailed after coming. Not this time. I licked every drop, my eyes still trained on the eyes of my Mistress, sitting above me.

Our relationship was now defined, she had accepted me as her slave.

For her, the troubling aspect was that she saw no long-term future in this relationship. She didn't want a slave as a husband. For the time being, we simply enjoyed the relationship as it was.

More and more often, I fucked her with my usual total devotion, and when she was satisfied, it ended without me coming. After one such session, I slowly eased out. She propped herself up on pillows, and I straddled her waist, with my rock hard penis protruding out from me, pointing upward, not touching anything.

I said, "You know I am your total willing slave."

She responded, "I do indeed. I do not understand why you'd want to be my slave, but I guess, for now, I'll let you."

I replied, "Nor do I understand it; I just know I cannot deny it. It's as if I was born this way. I couldn't change if I wanted to. And I have no desire to change it. I'm just compelled to explore it."

She casually stroked my rigid cock, "I'm ok with this, to a point. I cannot see myself married to a guy like you. But for now, let's enjoy it."

"Can I tell you my fantasies?" She nodded. As she casually stroked my cock, I delved into all my favorite fetishes, upon which I'd hinted for months.

I wanted to be sub to her forever. In public, we'd disguise it, but I'd still be her sub, to which she nodded, always on her terms, of course.

On humiliation, the whole idea was foreign to her, but I said it was a major turn-on, and could be used as a "training aid", which amused her.

She liked the term "Mistress", and henceforth, I would address her as such. In public, I'd use terms like Ma'am, or as she directed. Mistress Sara was quickly absorbing our Dom/Sub dynamic.

On bondage, she was not interested. If I was to be her slave, it'd be voluntary; she was not interested in ropes. Bondage had been a powerful element in my fantasies, but upon learning it was out, I was completely ok with willing slavery. I realized bondage was a crutch for me. In bondage, I could be made do things abhorrent to me, because I was bound, and helpless. Now it would be was because I was a Submissive to my very core, and willing to see it thru. The obvious example: sucking another man; now I'd do it solely because my Mistress ordered me to. The idea of another man blowing his load into my mouth made me shutter.

While this dialogue took place, I'd been straddling her waist, and she'd been lightly stroking my cock. Completely on her own, she squeezed precum onto her finger, then she slid her other hand under me, and began stroking my anus. The lubed finger felt amazing! I was beside myself with the stimulus!

I told her I'd always be bound exclusively to her, but she could fuck or date anyone she pleased. Along those lines, it seemed I'd be her cuckold, in that she could date whomever, whenever, and I would exist to please only her. A guy at work had been flirting with her, and she feared I'd be upset if she began dating him. I told her it only increased my excitement, that it cemented my status a her slave. She could fuck any man she wanted, while I'd remain completely devoted to her. I would not even look at another woman.

I told her I had a penchant for lingerie and cross-dressing, (wearing lingerie was both humiliating and exciting).

She was vaguely familiar with the fetish, but she'd never seriously thought about why any man would want to wear panties. I ventured, there was an inherent sexiness, plus, it increased a female's power, and the man's submissiveness. She decided, henceforth, when I spent the night, I'd wear panties and a nighty, or a camisole, or whatever she chose.

All the while, she'd been teasing my cock and anus. "Please Mistress, may I come?"

She abruptly shoved her finger deeper inside me, and increased her stroking of my cock. I blew my load across her stomach, all the way to her breasts. She withdrew her finger, but continued to stroke until the sensitivity was unbearable. I pleaded that she stop, but kept my hands submissively to my sides. Finally, "Lick," was commanded. I reveled in sub ecstasy, and while I licked up all my cum, her head propped upon a pillow, she watched, seeming to thoroughly enjoy her power over me. Without asking, upon completion of licking up my cum, I got a washcloth, and reverently washed her finger.

That night, she decided to apply make-up on my face. She had a pink nighty with matching pink panties. Wearing that outfit with my face made up, it was deliciously humiliating, and exciting. I minced around like a little girl. Henceforth, we often went to sleep, Mistress well fucked and completely satiated, and me, (still horny, not having been allowed to come), as her doting, feminized slave.

For me, this was the only possible relationship, but Sara, not fetish-bound, began dating a man she knew through work. We texted frequently, but began seeing less of each other, as her attention was on the new man in her life.

While Sara thought less and less of me, no one but Mistress Sara entered my increasing obsessive fantasies. New ideas of how I could serve her were swirling constantly through my daily life. Although we saw less of each other, my slave bond became stronger and stronger. Whenever I wanted to masturbate, I always texted, "May I?" And usually, she'd respond, "Yes, and send me a vid of you licking it up," so I'd record myself kneeling, coming on a dish, and licking my come off the dish, and text it to her.

She'd text, "How's my little slave? Are you practicing your make-up? Painting your toenails? Sleeping in your panties?" She'd text to meet for lunches. I became a trusted friend, as well as devoted (full time panty wearing) slave. Often, during lunches, she'd have me discreetly lower my pants and show her my panties. She enjoyed that I constantly wore panties, as a constant reminder that she still owned me. I'd excitedly share fantasies and ideas of how I could serve her, and she'd talk about her current lover, stoking my cuckold fetish.

One day she told me, (actually commanded) I come over and clean her apartment;

that she was having her man over for dinner that night. I put on fresh make-up, wore thong panties and a bra containing water filled balloons for breasts, and a camisole. It was summer, and I drove over with a loose jacket covering me, and once in the door, I put on high heels. Upon seeing me, she cracked up, but quickly got to business. As I kneeled before her, she gave extensive cleaning instructions, and I replied, "Yes Mistress."

We started in the bathroom, where on my knees, she stood above me, hands on hips, as I hand-washed her toilet. Then to the tile floor; she expected it to be spotless. She commanded me to kiss her foot, then she left to get her hair and nails done. I'd be cleaning for hours. I found myself musing, on my knees, on the floor, scrubbing. I was a true slave, and I reveled in the thought of it. My hairless penis was shrunken and tiny in my little thong panties.

When Mistress returned, she had been to the grocery, and ordered me to begin preparing the food for their dinner. "I bought you a little something," as she pulled a pink dog collar from a bag. She had me kneel, and buckled it tightly around my neck. "Thank you Mistress," upon which she smiled. It was getting late, I'd finished cleaning, and it was time for me to leave. As a coup-de-gras, she demanded I walk to my car with the dog collar on, and NOT wearing my jacket. My need to be her slave outweighed my vanity. Mortified, I walked to my car, in broad daylight, wearing high heals, a pink dog collar, thong panties, a bra containing water balloons, and a tight spaghetti-strap camisole.

She made me face-time with her all the way home, telling her how it felt to be so vulnerable, at the hands of a woman who no longer had sex with me. I begged her to let me kneel at her feet and masturbate. She told me that she'd be increasing the depths of her dominance, and my submission. For starters, she sternly implored, for that night, I was not allowed to masturbate.

The next morning she texted very early, "Get over here, and wait in your car, in the parking lot, until I text you to come inside."

I dressed similar to the previous day, adding to my ensemble a garter belt and stockings, and then thong panties. I waited discreetly in my car, (hoping no one would see me and call the authorities), when I saw a man exiting her apartment. Soon a text came, "Come in and come to my bedroom." Upon entering, I found her laying in bed, a languid look in her eyes. "Get in here," she said, and I eased in the bed next to her. She said nothing, just pushed me downward, and spread her legs.

Her pussy glistened; she'd just been fucked. I could see drips of cum at her opening. I reverently began to lick. I was enthusiastically licking another man's come from her pussy! I tasted his come! She kegeled her pussy, and a glob of his cum flowed into my mouth. I gulped and continued licking. I licked and licked, pushing my tongue deep as I could. Finally she pulled her knees far back, and pushed my head down, and I started on her anus. Cum had run down her crack, settling at her anus, which I licked, and probed, and licked. "Deeper," she said, and I hardened my tongue, pushing deep as I could, making her moan.

My cock, still trapped in my panties, was rock hard. "Take off your panties," she commanded. She spread her legs, and I slid up and entered her pussy for the first time in months. Not having taken the Viagra, I was compelled to come. "Mistress, your going to make me come. I must back out or I'm going to come!" She just kept fucking, and suddenly we both came at the exact same moment. Then as always, I lay perfectly still, as my cock softened inside her.

Moments later, she pushed me downward, and I licked my own cum from her pussy. Then she had me lay back and straddled my face, until I'd licked every drop. Then she snuggled next to me, and we fell into a deep sleep.

I was awakened by the shower, and minced into the bathroom, and sat to pee.

Mistress called from the shower, "I have a surprise for you." She stepped from the shower and I handed her a towel.

"Come with me," she said, and she headed to the living room.

Rounding the corner, I was face-to-face with her friend Joy, smiling broadly, sitting on the couch. I was mortified, still dressed in the garter and stockings, my bra still filled with water balloons, my cock shrunken in my panties.

Sara commanded, "Go put on your heels. You'll be cleaning Joy's apartment today. Do not disappoint."