A Submissive's Birthday Surprise

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.

"You are probably curious how your secret got out. It wasn't that hard. About 3 months ago, I saw you grab something out of the top cabinet in the kitchen and your shirt pulled up in back, and I was sure I saw the top of a pair of bright pink panties peek out above your pants. So when I got home that night I checked to see if you also had a profile on FetLife." She smiled. "Yes, my slut, I am on there too. My nick is 'TwistedMistressQoS'."

"As you will soon learn, I have a very twisted mind and I do love fucking black men. So I did a quick search within the area and found a few screen names with a connection to the law. That seemed like a good place to start my search. I ruled out the Doms and people that were much younger or older than you and narrowed it down to only three possibilities. I then remembered that you had mentioned it was your birthday about two months ago during one of our meetings and that was in late August. So the number "823" could be your birthday. I then looked closer at the pictures that were posted and the body-type seemed to be a pretty good match. The clincher was that one of the photos you took of yourself in panties showed an ugly green tie draped over the chair behind you. I saw you wear that same horrible tie several times. It had to be you."

"So I went through your profile in detail and was thrilled to find that your list of perversions pretty much matched mine, including some very extreme things I always wanted to do. But I figured I would never meet someone fucked-up enough that he would let me do it to him. But guys like to say they are submissive and want to serve, but when it comes time to prove it, you find they really just want to jerk off to the idea of being submissive. So I needed to find out if you were for real."

"It was not random that the two of us were put on that committee together. I volunteered you for the committee and I was allowed to make up the groups. Most of the groups had 4 people in them. You probably didn't notice, but ours was the only one with just 2 people. My plan from the start was to make you work very hard on that committee to see if your submission existed outside the sexual fantasy. Hell, at some point I was struggling to invent tedious, annoying tasks to see if you would actually do them without complaining." She laughed, "And you did them even better than I ever expected."

"And for the record, my car is not in the shop. I took an Uber to work today to create a reason for you to drive me home. I didn't need all these boxes either, but I had to make sure I got you upstairs and I knew you wouldn't make me carry them all myself. Your last test was my big glass of fresh piss. Given your profile, I expected you would follow my instruction. But you looked so happy drinking it that I couldn't stop from smiling."

"Now I still need you to do a few more things. First, stand up and take off your pants." I was past the point of turning back now, so I did exactly what she said. "I see you wore the bright pink ones today and, how nice, they have a tiny tent in front and a big wet spot. Is that for me?" She giggled. "They are very cute but you need panties that are way sluttier than those. Now take off your shirt." I unbuttoned my dress shirt and got down to the t-shirt underneath. "Take that off too." I did. "Awwww. No bra today? You are way too flabby to have your man-boobs bouncing around like that. Don't worry, we will be doing some online shopping for you this weekend. I do owe you dinner for all the help you gave me today so sit down and I will be right back. While you have a few minutes, use your phone and check out the FetLife site. You know you want to."

She left the room and I was on my phone seconds later logging in. It only took a few key strokes to find her profile. I had noticed it before but given the age difference and the fact that she lived to "ride huge black cocks," I figured she wouldn't be interested in me and I would have had no idea how to approach her online anyway. Her perversion list was impressive and the photos of stiletto heels and her collection of strap-ons, dildos, whips and floggers made me certain that is what she was hiding in the locked room. Her recently updated profile talked about finding a submissive co-worker she planned to make her "sissy slave bitch" and "cuckold cumdump." While I was reading her profile I received a new message on the site. I jumped over to that page and it asked me to accept that "TwistedMistressQoS" was my Mistress and owner. I immediately accepted.

Just a few minutes later she walked back into the room with a small sandwich in her hand. She sat down on the couch and started to eat. "Slut, your dinner is over here." She spread her legs and motioned for me to come over to her. "Get on your knees and show your new Mistress and owner if that pussy eating fetish actually means you are good at it."

I didn't hesitate to go to her and drop to my knees and put my head under her leather skirt. The smell of leather and wet pussy was intoxicating. I didn't want to appear too aggressive, so I started slow and licked around the edges, tickling her hard clit with my tongue. She was soaking wet. After about ten minutes, her legs tightened around my head and she began to grind on my face. She squirted hard as she orgasmed. She didn't release the pressure on my head and her legs went over my shoulders as she held me in that position. She started to buck against my tongue and nose faster and faster until she came hard again, even more of her juices covering my face. As her breath slowed she pushed me away and told me to get up.

"Not too bad. I will give you a "B+" for your first effort. But you will get a lot of practice and training to improve your grade. Now while you clean my juices off your face, I want to ask you about your actual experience taking cock since that is probably my favorite way to humiliate my subs."

I then gave her a brief history of first sucking cock at an adult theater in college and then periodic hook-ups over the years at adult bookstores around the area. It was nothing extreme but it certainly was something that very much aroused the submissive part of my brain. She asked if I had ever been fucked by a real cock and I told her, "No." When I said that, she got what I could only describe as an evil smirk on her face. "Well won't that be fun for me to watch. You should know right up-front slut that taking cock is something you will be expected to do often when you are with me."

"Now take off those panties so I can finally see that little cock you described in your profile." I pulled them down revealing my very tiny, and very hard, cock. "Oh my God! I can see why you didn't want to scare women away by posting a picture of that thing on the website. It really is pathetic," she laughed.

"I am sorry, Mistress."

"Oh, don't apologize, slut. While I love fucking big cocks, I really love submissive men with useless cocks even more because they are so fun to control and so willing to please. They are just happy for any attention and will do almost anything to please their Mistress. Isn't that right?" I nodded.

"So I can see your clit is small, but does it actually work? Can you actually cum with that thing?"

"Yes Mistress," I was blushing.

"Well, you are going to need to prove that to me." She then reached out from her spot on the couch and began stroking my cock slowly. "With most guys I need to use my entire hand. For a couple, I need both hands. For you, I only need a couple of fingers," she grinned. She told me to look into her eyes and savor this because it won't happen very often. She continued to stroke me, changing speeds and studying my reactions as she did. She told me to tell her when I was getting close to an orgasm. After about 5 minutes of stroking, my breathing sped up and I was on the edge and let her know. She then stopped abruptly.

"No way it will be that easy for you." She stopped touching my cock for about a minute and put her pre-cum covered hand in front of my face and told me to "lick it up." She then started again, changing speeds repeatedly as she read my response. Like before, she got me close to the edge but this time she stopped before I needed to say anything. The entire time she maintained a running commentary about how I should be honored that she would bother with something so pathetic. That most women would never touch such a worthless cock. That it should always be covered by panties and that she knew a lot of "real men" that would love to torture it almost as much as she did. The on and off stroking repeated for more than 20 minutes before she finally asked me, "Are you ready to cum for me, slut?"

"Yes Mistress," I said while I was nodding.

"You can do better than that. Are you ready to cum, slut?"

"Yes Mistress. Please!", I begged.

"Better. But not good enough yet. What will you promise me if I let you cum, slut?"

"Anything Mistress," I blurted out as she continued to stroke.

"Anything? Are you sure that is what you want to promise me, slut? Anything? You barely know me and have no idea how warped I can really be. What if I wanted to take you on a leash to a gloryhole at the adult bookstore and make you suck off every man in the place? Would you do that for me, slut?"

"Yes Mistress."

"What if I said I was going to pimp you out to a biker gang for the weekend and tell them they can do anything to you as long as I get you back breathing on Monday? Would you do that for me, slut?"

"Yes Mistress," I said with even more urgency.

"What if I wanted to turn you into my full-time sissy maid and rent you out to all your friends, co-workers and family to be used without limits so they can finally see what a pervert you really are? Would you let me do that to you, slut?"

"Yes Mistress!" I was practically shouting now.

"OK then, slut. We have a deal. And I hold people to their promises. I want you to cum for me when I tell you and remember that every orgasm you have from now on will be with my permission or you can expect severe punishment." She then reached over to the side table and grabbed a large shot glass, put it over the head of my cock and started stroking my dripping cock and the glass together. "Are you ready, slut?"