tagBDSMBe Careful What You Wish For

Be Careful What You Wish For


Like all good intentions, it started with what I thought was a good idea. At the time, I was living with a gorgeous girl named Lisa. A Jennifer Love Hewitt look-alike, except Lisa is sexier. Although kind of short, Lisa has curves that entice, legs that stun, and an ass to die for. It was probably the ass that did me in.

Our love life was active, if not repetitious. For myself, I couldn't get enough of the lovely Lisa and her equally scrumptious body. She is one those women who were made for sex, sultry and sexy, with a wicked undertone of sensuality, like Carmen Electra. But, like the rich man who always wanted to get richer, I wasn't content with just the status quo, I wanted more.

I'm kind of an anomaly as a man. Although I appear to be a rather macho-type, deep down in the recesses of my psyche, there is a definite and pronounced longing to submit to a beautiful and haughty female. Where this masochistic streak comes from I don't know. Bringing it to the surface is usually a relationship killer so I've been battling with suppressing it all my life.

Fortunately for my fantasy life, Lisa is fairly imaginative and went along with most of my role-playing games, but I was careful not to cross the line into an arena where she might think less of me, although there were many times I wanted to. Having been smitten by her incredible beauty, I didn't want to chance losing her by revealing some of my perverted sides.

Sadly, my life started to unravel after I had one of my brilliant ideas.

Thinking I could sample my need for servitude by creating a fantasy scenario, I left early one Saturday after informing Lisa that we were about to embark on a new game.

She perked up at once, having learned that every time she joined in one of my sexual games she was rewarded by a number of expensive gifts. And there seemed to be a part of her that had fun too. Anticipating another shopping trip, she awaited my instructions.

I never left the parking lot. From my car I phoned her. Surprised at the quick jump into the game, Lisa was caught off-guard. Not wasting any time, I informed her that I was sending someone over to help her get ready for a night out on the town. After she was ready, an expensive dinner would be followed by a night of love-making bliss that would knock her socks off.

"What do you mean, you're sending someone over?" The tone of her voice relayed her suspicions. I was entering a dangerous area. More than once I had included suggestions of adding other men in our bouts in bed, although to date, they were only fantasies. So far, Lisa believed in a monogamous relationship and I had been rejected with her even entertaining the possibility of being with another man, even if it was only verbally.

"Don't worry; he won't do anything you don't want. In fact, his equipment is off-limits, he understands that."

"What does that mean?" Her tone was still very suspicious. I was treading on thin ground, but my need to travel down this dangerous road overcame all sense of caution.

"He's there as a servant, just a lowly servant—to help you get ready. He's going to take you shopping, pay for some rather nice and expensive gifts, and then prepare you for my night."

From the pause, I could tell that she was hesitant about the game. She must be weighing the prospect of gifts against whatever perversion I was conjuring up. "I don't know what you mean about preparing me. What, exactly, is he going to do?"

"Anything you want. The only rule is that he can't use his rather insignificant tool. In fact, he can't even bring it out. I told him to bathe you, massage you, powder you, and dress you. He's to get you worked up for an incredible fuck later tonight. You can have him do anything you want except put his thing in you."

There was a significant pause. My heart raced and I wondered if I had gone too far.

"I'm still not sure about this. Why would anyone go along with this?"

"He does it because I told him to. He does anything I ask."

"He does? Why?"

"It's just the way it is. We can get into that later. Right now, think of him as a servant, in fact, treat him like you would a servant. He expects to be ordered around, even mistreated. Make him do whatever you feel like. The important thing is that I want you so hot and ready for this evening that you'll do whatever I want."

"I understand your motivation, but I don't know if I want to get some stranger involved in your kinky little games."

"Lisa, trust me. It's not real. It's a fantasy. Besides, it will be worth it. The shopping trip alone will make it worth it. Think of adding to your wardrobe."

"We'll see."

After I hung up, I took a deep breath. The next part of the adventure would either become the highlight of my life or the possible end of our relationship. Either she was going to go along with my wicked little game or throw me out on the street. So, I put on my best servile hat and walked back home.

You see, in my depraved scenario I was also going to play the part of the servant.

When Lisa answered the door I could tell she was nervous. Because of our conversation, she obviously expected another man. When she saw it was me a look of confusion spread across her brow.

"What are you doing...?"

"Hi, you must be Lisa. I'm Tim. John sent me to take care of you." I offered my hand. She glanced at it in befuddlement. A frown appeared and I thought my little game was doomed. Rejecting my offer of my hand she turned away. Surprisingly, the rude gesture caused a stir in my trousers. Nothing I like better than being spurned by a gorgeous and impervious woman. Maybe this was going to work.

Standing at the doorway I couldn't help admire her cute ass. The way it swiveled and rotated as she sauntered down the hallway made my mouth water. Man, I loved that ass. So far, I had managed to resist it. By that, I mean my servile tongue had not yet declared its need to worship that area. Fear was the motivator behind my reticence to express my adoration.

Let me explain my dilemma. I crave the feeling of worshipping a gorgeous rear end. In my perverse mind, the ultimate subjugation to a woman is kissing her ass. The problem is that once a man does that, there's no turning back—the relationship changes and the woman holds the upper hand. While I desperately ached to surrender to her delicious derriere, I had waited, knowing that once I demonstrated this final act of debasement that our roles would be permanently altered. In my experience, not many women appreciate a man's tongue in their asshole and more than a few find it disgusting. As far as I could tell, there was only one of two ways a relationship could go once the man lowered himself to worshipping his woman's ass. Either the woman got up and left in disgust, or, from that moment on, she ruled the roost.

Breaking the reverie, Lisa looked over her shoulder and led me down my new path of slavery. "Well? Are you coming? John said that you would do anything I wanted."

"Oh." Usually eloquent, the prospect of being allowed to continue the game had taken my gift of gab and replaced it with a swollen tongue.

"Tell me, Tim, exactly what is your relationship with John?"

I had to be careful how I explained this part of the game. "Let's just say that I'll do anything he wants me to."

Her brow arched. "He is your master, isn't he?" she asked. She watched my response closely. This wasn't the first time I had assumed the role of another man with her, but it was the first time I had played the part of a servant. Usually our games involved me donning the cloak of a television repairman or masseuse, using my anonymous position to seduce the lonely and frustrated wife of an unresponsive husband.

"Sort of," I mumbled. I had to be careful. I wanted to play the game, but I didn't want to give away my need to eagerly fill the role. My idea was to play both roles—master and slave, thereby fulfilling both needs to rule and be ruled. So far, in our relationship, I had always been the ruler.

"What do you mean sort of? He's either your superior or you're some kind of sick pervert. Which is it?" The way her eyes probed made me wonder if she knew what I was up to all along. It wouldn't be the first time I underestimated a woman and fell victim to her all-knowing ways.

"I'm his servant, I guess." The answer was unsatisfactory, for both of us, but she let it go for the time being.

"Well, servant, come with me, I'm in need of some service. Draw me a bath, and make it hot. Add some of that perfume you see on the counter. I want candles and some champagne." I watched her enchanting butt disappear into the bedroom before hopping to my chore.

Part of my masochistic needs was a secret desire to do all of the household chores, but there was a catch. I wouldn't get the charge from the subservience unless Lisa told me to do the work. An important aspect to the surrender was being conquered. As a typical male, I was accustomed to the woman doing the dishes, cleaning and laundry. But I wished she would change that.

I was on my knees checking the temperature of the water when Lisa entered the bathroom. She was wearing a simple terry robe, white and short. By that, I mean it barely covered the areas I desired most—her hot and nasty pussy and her luscious, scrumptious ass.

"Don't you look cute, on your knees like a good servant?" I started to rise. "No, no, stay right there." Lisa sat on the toilet. The robe rode her thighs as she crossed her legs. My eyes watched as if glued to the sight. I prayed for a shot of her tantalizing box. Too sly, she made sure I was denied.

"Let's get the rules established before we go any further," she said. I waited like the good servant I hoped to become. "Your master said that you would do anything I told you to do. Is that right?"

I nodded. "Look at me," she instructed. Reluctantly my eyes left her creamy gams and rested on her probing orbs. "You're rather rude. My body is off-limits to you. I would certainly not let a lowly servant like you even look my naked body. Is that clear? Now, tell me what you understand your instruction to be."

I gulped. I know what I wanted to say, but was afraid I might be making a mistake. It was the slow, hypnotic swinging of her leg that persuaded me to take a chance. Emboldened, I began my journey down depravity road.

"My master said I should get you ready for an intense night of sex. He wants you clean, smooth and your body all creamy with lotion for him. I'm supposed to bathe you, massage you, help you dress and get you into the proper mood for his enjoyment."

"I see. How, exactly, are you supposed to get me into the proper mood?"

"Well, I think he had in mind that you might want some oral service. You know I'm not supposed to use my...uh..."

"Your little tool—is what he called it." My face reddened causing a chuckle from her.

"Yes, my tool."

"Your little tool—is what he said. Apparently, he doesn't think much of it. Why is that, do you think?" My face had gone from red to crimson.

"I think that compared to his, mine is not very big."

"That's just precious—a man admitting that he isn't very well endowed. I guess that's why you're his servant. He's the alpha male and you're the beta. Well, since you're at my beck and call, maybe you're more like the omega." She stood. "Stay on your knees, head down, and help me off with my robe. I don't want to waste showing my body on you."

With head cast down, I reached up and helped her off with her robe. She slid under the water before I could get more than a glimpse of her creamy white figure.

Handing me a washcloth, she leaned back. "Make yourself useful. You may wash my body, but don't get carried away."

Lost in a sort of masochistic lust, a cloud of rapture that disengaged my brain and allowed me to swirl into the abyss of servitude, I began my solemn duty. As softly as I could, I cleaned every square inch of her goddess form. All the while, Lisa appeared to sleep.

Losing myself into a haze of compliance, I started with her feet. I washed every inch, stopping to work between every toe before creeping up her instep to her ankle. Somehow I resisted the urge to lean down and suck each appendage into my mouth. Slowly, I massaged my way up her calves. The soft and supple muscle turned to putty under my hands. Gradually, I worked my way north. Her thighs were like a down pillow—firm yet pliable.

Before rhapsody took over and I did something I shouldn't, I left her luscious legs and moved to her neck. Massaging gently, I worked the kinks out of her long, lithe-like neck. Her shoulder muscles gave into my persuasive fingers. Moving down her limbs, I caressed her arms and then scoured her armpits. I wanted to lick her underarms just to show her that I was willing to do anything to demonstrate my devotion, but held back.

Instead, I inched down her chest toward the loveliest set of breasts known to man. With the cloth between my fingers and her skin, I floated around her magnificent globes as if they were priceless works of art. In a way, they were. A sigh emerged from somewhere deep in her throat as her nipples hardened. Taking her moans of pleasure as tacit approval, I continued my tender treatment of her breasts and nipples.

My fingers circled around the aureole and squeezed slightly. They grew taut. Playing with the tips, I applied a little more pressure. Lisa loves to have her nipples pinched, almost to the point of pain, but only after the proper amount of teasing. I played with the tips like a virtuoso with his violin.

Another sigh escaped her throat and she pressed her legs together. Enjoying my performance as much as she did, I reluctantly left her breasts and wandered down her stomach. As I left her boobs, a groan of frustration came from her throat. My hand slid down toward heaven. At the edges of her mound of fur I roamed for a while. Circumventing the folds, I washed the insides of her thighs. Each time I neared my goal I stopped and went down her thigh instead. Lisa was getting hot.

"I should wash your backside," I said.


"He said I should make sure you're clean back there. I think he has plans for that particular area." For months I had been begging Lisa to let me fuck her in the ass, but each time I had been rejected, sometimes quite vehemently. Part of me wanted to push it, just to see whether she would become so indignant that she would slap my face. Despite her objections, or maybe because of them, I kept pleading. I don't know why the act of sodomy was so important to me, but it was.

"He does?" she chuckled. "Well then, maybe you should get to it." She rose to her knees and turned that gorgeous piece of art so that it posed right in my face. Seeing it so close, it took a minute before enough blood could return to my brain for me to function. It took every ounce of willpower not to cover that glorious object with kisses. With washcloth in hand, I began the precious journey.

The smooth, creamy globes were covered with soap as I fondled the soft skin. In my humble opinion, there is nothing in the world that compares to a great ass and right in front of me was the greatest one of all. With a sigh, I realized that I would willingly wash Lisa's perfect backside until I died of hunger.

Finally, I dared to explore the nether regions of that glorious rear end. Soaping the cloth thoroughly, I swooped between the mountains to the valley in between. Back and forth, up and down, I washed with the reverence her beautiful ass deserved.

"I think that's good enough, don't you?" Lisa asked.

Her words snapped me out of the spell her luscious buttocks had put me into. "What?"

Lisa laughed. "Maybe you check it, especially if your master wants to play with it tonight."

I looked up at her. Her eyes held a wicked sneer. "Since you're my servant, I think you should check to see that it's really clean." There was a challenge in her words as well as her eyes. As I mentioned before, I had come close a number of times to kissing her ass but had never crossed the forbidden barrier. The perverted act, even during the course of the game, was an irrevocable step. Although worshipping her ass was the ultimate form of homage, it meant that I could never go back to being her equal.

As the inner debate raged, the decision was made for me. A slight wiggle and I was doomed. From that moment on I was guided by the brain between my legs. It seemed that my fate was sealed.

Surrendering, I leaned forward. My lips barely touched the smooth skin. A sigh escaped my heart and I knew I had finally found my true calling.

My mouth tenderly caressed the globes. My tongue washed the skin with adoration.

"Go ahead," she said—the words I had been longing to hear. With her approval, my tongue, with a mind of its own, sought its goal. Snaking between her perfect globes, it searched for home. Blindly, my worshipful tongue found the tight entrance. Like a tentative teenager trying to penetrate his first virgin, I pushed slightly, almost afraid to enter. "Go ahead," she said. "You need to check if it's clean enough for your master."

Go ahead, I did. My eyes closed in reverence. My tongue licked inside, going as deep as it could penetrate. I was kissing Lisa's ass, actually, to be technical, I was French kissing her ass. In that instant, the game soared past play-time and reached reality. A sort of blissful peace overcame me and I surrendered to her glorious backside. Had she let me, I would have stayed there forever, but she became bored with my adorations.

"That's enough. You're getting to much enjoyment out of this. Get me a towel."

I scurried to my task like an eager puppy. Still on my knees I held the cloth out so she could step into its folds. From my position I could survey Lisa's delicious pussy firsthand. It took all of my willpower, along with Lisa's restrictive hand, to keep from falling forward and devouring her scrumptious pussy with the devotion it demanded.

"Not yet. You haven't been that good yet. I need a massage first."

Lisa allowed me to powder and perfume some very strategic areas, all of which I wanted to worship with mouth and tongue.

She lay on the bed, naked as the day she made me fall in love with her. For the next half-hour I rubbed and kneaded every muscle on her perfect body.

She rolled over. "I think it's time you did some more checking."


She spread her legs. "You're supposed to do whatever I tell you." I nodded. "Check my pussy. See if it's clean enough to get fucked later on." A glistening from between her legs beckoned me. I had eaten her pussy before, many times, but never with as much enthusiasm as I did now.

Lying between her gorgeous gams, my arms wound under her thighs to cup the ass I loved. My mouth sought the soft folds of her clitoris. My tongue darted forward and tickled the every micro-inch of the area. I kissed, sucked, and licked. I molded my mouth to fit the surface around her pussy.

Slowly, I worked my oral magic. My devotion to her needs was my highest priority. Nothing else mattered to me other than her pleasure. Once I gave into subjugating myself to her, worshipping her pussy became better than any sex I've ever had.

"Your tool might be worthless, but your tongue is pretty good. What should I call you, by the way?" Somehow, despite my eager manipulations, Lisa was managing to stay cool. The fact that I was trying so hard to turn her on and she seemed so nonchalant about it was driving me crazy with uncontrollable lust.

"Tim," I quickly ad-libbed, my tongue barely moving off of her clitoris for the answer.

"Your name is Tim—as in Tiny Tim?" A sneering sort of chuckle, one that I would hear often, broke out. "That's certainly appropriate. Did your Master name you that?"

"Yes," I mumbled into the depths of her folds. Her hand reached down and patted me on the head. I wiggled. The little guy rubbed against the bed. From the manner in which he was responding to her belittlements, he seemed to be enjoying the humiliation.

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