Dipping Her Toes Pt. 01

After 10 years of self-imposed celibacy, she had finally plucked up the courage to join an app that matched submissives to dominants. It still wouldn't be easy, as she trawled through countless profiles, only to be met by a collection of 'dick pics' that, together, could create a contemporary piece Tracy Emin would've been proud of.

A bigger problem was the sub 'frenzy' that had hit almost instantaneously the second she'd made the decision to explore the dormant, submissive side of herself.

She now spent her days in an almost unendurable state of arousal; cunt wet, nipples sensitive to even a whisper of a touch, permanently on the edge of orgasm.

She'd researched online, learning everything and nothing.

There was still no dominant.

Finally she'd found him...or had he found her?

She had looked at his profile several times before, drawn to a photo of him on the beach, but she had reservations because he was younger than she was.

Serendipity, perhaps? The first exchange didn't go well, with her ranting about the latest idiot who had told her to kneel and suck his cock as an opener on the app.

But her soon-to-be dominant had been good natured and sympathetic.

In only a few days they had progressed to the telephone.

Any resistance she had dissolved as her already aching pussy became her pulsating, dripping centre, as his smooth voice teased and caressed her amid seemingly innocuous conversations.

When he suggested they meet , her now constant longing for him overrode any common sense and she invited him to her home.

His instructions were clear in terms of her presentation: Bra, panties, suspenders, stockings, high heels and make-up, things that went against her usual understated look.

The day arrived and here she was, waiting. The butterflies in her stomach were more like the size of elephants; her desire tinged with a potent mix of anticipation and fear.

She heard a car pull up and peaked through the window, a black Mercedes; an appropriate steed for her dark master she later realised.

Footsteps on the path, sending the 'elephants' in her tummy stampeding.

Shaking hands after opening the door, the irony of him being a 'tall, dark stranger' crossed her mind, fleetingly.

He stepped in, with a cheeky grin that was somewhat at odds with this serious, suited man. She looked again past the smile to his eyes.

'Dominance': she'd read the definition. It meant power and influence over others. The man in front of her exuded it with his every breathe.

She took him in, short dark hair, dark brown intelligent, inquisitive eyes, tall with a strong manly physique; all alpha male wrapped in a sharp suit.

In a heartbeat, he had her long, dark hair wrapped in his fist, pulling her head back and taking control.

"There is no easing into this," he told her as a way of explanation, as he propelled her up the stairs to the bedroom.

Her bedroom until now, comfort and security, transformed into desire tinged with fear.

She was guided to her knees and was now close enough to breathe in his musky scent. He removed his clothes and her eyes moved along the contours of his cock just millimetres away from her now salivating mouth. Her cunt flooded as she thought about licking his shaft.

A groan escaped her and was met with an answering chuckle from the man she had met in the flesh only moments earlier.

She was a virgin in terms of submission, and she felt it keenly, but at the same time this felt so right to her. Her feminist side balked at the thought but there was no denying it.

Her want was rapidly becoming a need as he continued to tease her with the sight of his beautiful, hard cock.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

She answered him hesitantly. "I want to suck your cock." A hard slap to the face left her reeling with humiliation, but her pussy gushed and her desire spiralled even higher.

"What do you call me? Have you forgotten already?"

"No Sir. I'm sorry Sir," was all that she could manage.

The dominant continued to walk her in baby steps through what he expected from her. He was firm, but patient.

Then it began for real. She found that she adored the panic and helplessness as her head was pushed down onto his cock, as she gagged and spluttered.

He blindfolded her and told her to get onto the bed on all fours. She was embarrassed at how wet she had become but the "mmmm" of approval from her dominant as he pulled her panties to the side and ran his finger down her slit just made her even wetter.

He told her that her pleasure was irrelevant and that she was there to serve him, to give him pleasure; she was merely an object, a set of holes to achieve it. Her cunt responded; another flood.

Any humiliation she felt about the fact he would now be able to smell her desire was overridden by her desperate need for him.

He told her he would use every hole...and soon they would become his, sliding his cock into her pussy from behind, pulling on her hair.

He began to spank her and to his delight, she asked — no begged — for him to hit her harder.

All thought was being fucked out of her.

Her mind could only liken it to being ridden, the same way she used to ride her horses.

He'd told her before of his fantasy about being a feudal lord; maybe this was why her mind made the leap to an animal in service to its master.

"So, I'm like your horse?" He pondered it to himself, hesitated for a moment, then agreed with a simple "yes".

For a reason she did not yet understand this aroused her: the thought of being possessed, owned, enslaved completely by this man used as an animal in service. It felt right.

He then took her ass. There was no resistance from her even though she had only had anal sex on a few occasions with her ex-husband many years ago.

His voice was caressing her again, telling her how she would please him. Her mind spiralled towards orgasm, the feeling of his cock brutally fucking her in this most intimate of places. His hands pushed her down hard so that her ass was raised and he could fuck her harder.

She was no longer S**, she was merely his...his toy, his object; his to ride.

His hands continued to spank. He was asking her for numbers in terms of closeness to orgasm.

She let herself go to his voice, his cock filling her, his smell covering her, longing to feel him explode inside her, to mark her from the inside out.

"Please may I cum, Sir?"

"No, not yet," he responded.

She held on as long as she could but very soon felt herself rushing towards orgasm. She asked him again, begged him, her voice filling with tears and desperation.

He sensed she couldn't hold back much longer and told her to cum.

She surrendered herself completely to being consumed by him, his cock, smell, hands, pain, curling up inside her and then exploding outward in orgasm as he fucked her ass.

He withdrew his cock, grabbed her hair and pumped his cock, spurting his seed all over her face and lips, marking her his for the first time.

She licked her lips and her fingers searched her face for his warm cum enjoying his saltiness, knowing by instinct alone that not a drop should be wasted.

Later, they showered together: him, solicitous, ensuring she was calm and relaxed. She felt lobotomised, unable to put a coherent thought together.

Afterwards, they sat drinking the coffee she had served him, getting to know each other better.

Eventually he had to leave.

They kissed each other on both cheeks and he drove away.

She knew she would never be the same again. He had awakened something in her that she didn't yet understand; an inherent need to obey and serve. She felt a freedom and lightness of mind she'd never experienced before, born from the beginnings of acceptance of who she was at her core.