Fantasy Dom Ch. 04: The Test

I was in compliance mode. "I'm your jerk off boy, Mistress."

She pulled out the bottle of Patron Silver. She pulled out a second highball glass with ice and poured herself a small shot. Then she poured another small shot into mine, topping off the cum-soaked ice. She added a squeeze of lime to each.

"I really love this tequila," she said. "Tell me what you think. Bottoms up, darling!" she exclaimed. She raised her glass and downed it and smacked her lips as a taste tester might, obviously expecting me to do the same. I tilted my head back and emptied mine as well. It required multiple gulps.

"What do you think?" she asked.

I considered the unusual concoction I'd just downed. My cum, tequila, lime and ice made for a strange, salty flavor and an unusual consistency. I thought carefully about how to reply.

"Delicious," I lied. "You could serve me this any time," I added boldly.

She leaned closely and whispered again in my ear.

"Yes, I could. And yes, I will. And now you're my cum slut. When I come back, I want you to admit that to me." And with that she swirled around to attend to another bar patron.

She returned a couple minutes later and stood in front of me. I knew what was expected. This time I leaned forward and whispered.

"I'm your jerk off boy. And I'm your cum slut, Mistress." Then I added, voluntarily, "And I'll do anything you tell me to."

"Good boy," she said. "Maybe you are trainable. Maybe you are deserving. We'll see," she added, intimating that the test was not over.

No sooner had she finished the remark than a big, husky, masculine lion of a guy joined the party, entering from the stairwell. He was tanned, rugged-looking, hirsute and didn't lack for self-confidence. His deep, baritone voice pierced the overall din.

"There's my favorite bartender," he exclaimed as he scooted in behind the bar and gave MY favorite bartender a bear hug and a smooch. She seemed delighted and returned the gesture. She didn't offer any introduction. Instead, she suddenly ignored me. The two of them began what I perceived to be familiar flirting. Jealousy welled up in my chest. As a distraction I stood and inched my way toward the entertainment center. I'd pretend to be interested in watching some football.

I watched the game, chatted with some fellow viewers and kept half an eye on my bartender and her new boyfriend. They seemed most comfortable and familiar with each other. This went on for a good ten minutes or so when I noticed that he was excusing himself from the party and she was signaling me to come see her. She had taken off the bartender's apron (that I'd given her as a gift some time back) and looked like she was about to embark on a mission of some kind. She leaned into me and spoke in my ear, confidentially.

"One of our realtors is going to show me a property down the road. He's trying to convince us to buy. I'm going to text you in a little bit. Be on the lookout. I've already asked Alice to bartend while I'm gone." One of her friends stood behind the bar and donned the apron. And with that she dashed, but not through the same door he had exited, leaving the party on cruise control.

I milled among the other party-goers. Made some small talk. Watched some plays on the screen. Petted one of the dogs. Kept my eye on my cell phone.

Sure enough, a little less than half an hour later I received a text.

"Come meet me. I'm down the street. Address is 6198. Back door is open. I'm alone."

I remember thinking that this was a strange twist. I was actually a bit frightened. I knew not where it was going. I wondered what the heck was going on. But, I reminded myself, subs don't question. They obey. And I was absolutely determined to prove myself to her. So off I went.

It was a pretty ritzy neighborhood. The houses were widely separated and recessed deep into to the landscape. A couple hundred yards down the road I identified the house address on the roadside mailbox and climbed the long driveway. I found my way to the back door. It was indeed open. I stepped in cautiously. Some music was playing softly. I heard her voice from another room.

"In here. Come see me. I'm in here," she continued, so that I could track her voice and find her. I peeked inside the door of a bedroom. There she was, under a single sheet on a king size bed, gas fireplace roaring in the corner. "I brought you a present. On the dresser. Put it on. Nice and snug."

I immediately saw a collar and leash on the dresser. The gift fueled my infatuation. I wrapped the collar around my neck, pulled it as tight as I dare and clasped it. Then I hooked the leash onto it.

"Good boy," she complimented me in a sing-songy voice. "Now come here. Closer," she urged.

I began walking toward her only to be stopped dead in my tracks.

"On your knees! My slave approaches me on his knees!" she demanded in a stern voice.

I dropped to my knees promptly, then got down on all fours and crawled toward her. When I reached the side of the bed I stayed down, kept my head low and handed her the leash.

"Good boy," she repeated. She tugged at the leash, then slackened it, then pulled it tight again, over and over several times. I'd dreamed of being leashed by her so many times. I was utterly enamored of this new Mistress. She continued her manipulation of the leash as she spoke.

"Do you know what I've been doing?" she asked.

"No, Mistress," I answered honestly.

"I've been fucking my realtor," she replied with astonishing frankness. "It was a quickie but he's always a good fuck. He's a great lay. And he came inside me. And you, my dear, are going to clean me up."

I swallowed uncontrollably hard in my nervousness. I was frankly astonished at her request. It seemed so outlandish...kinky...and so out of character. But, I reminded myself that bossy, uncompromising domination is what I'd been yearning for, from her, for the longest time. I knew damn well what she said. I was uncontrollably turned on by her domination but petrified by the task that I knew she had just commanded.

"Hurry up, crawl up here," she goaded me. "Remember earlier, when you brought your glass to the bar? I told you that you were my jerk off boy. And then I made you drink it. And I told you that you were my...do you remember...what did I tell you you were?" I recalled it well.

"You told me I was your cum slut."

"You told me I was your cum slut, MISTRESS!" she corrected me yet again, with a corrective tug on the leash.

"You told me I was your cum slut, Mistress," I repeated correctly.

"That's right. And you were. And here we go again. Now say it again and then climb up here and lick my pussy until it's clean. Clean up all the delicious cum that he pumped into me. And then make me cum with your tongue. Now!" she ordered.

I'd asked for it. I'd dreamed of being her sub and fantasized a hundred times about how wonderful it would be to serve her as a sub. How fabulous she'd be as a dominant. So here I was. I couldn't cop out now or even hesitate. I spoke the words, "I'm your cum slut, Mistress," and then I crawled onto the bed as she threw the covers back and spread her legs.

"Now get to work," she demanded. She wore a loose-fitting t-shirt that revealed the outline of pert nipples. I admired them. And she exposed her pussy. It was neatly cropped but not completely shaven. It glistened with moisture. I decided to say once more, voluntarily this time...

"I'm your cum slut, Mistress." It sounded and felt degrading yet more natural with each repetition. Maybe that was her tactic. And it was powerfully arousing. She knew exactly how to stimulate my sub buttons.

I got down on my haunches and stuck my head between her legs. It smelled of sex. Wet and pungent. It couldn't have been long since they consummated the deal. Timidly, I reached my hands around her hips for leverage and licked the top of her pussy and searched delicately for her clit. She leaned back, pulled on my leash and began instructing me.

"That's it. Right there. Stay there. Lick there. Slower. Yeah, just like that...keep that up, keep going."

"Faster. Harder. Now suck it. Kiss it and suck it! Eat that cum!"

I did as I was told. I was lapping up her and her boyfriend's cum. I was being subbed like never before in my life...even in my wildest imagination...this was the stuff of my most private, perverse dreams.

"Now fuck me with your tongue. Stick it in and fuck me with your tongue. Yeah. Harder."

"Now suck it. Lick me and suck up all those juices. You wanted to be subbed. Okay, I'm turning you in to a total cum slut."

We kept it up like this for some time. I could feel a weariness in my jaw and tongue. But I didn't let up. I could also tell she was getting aroused.

"Make me cum. Lick my clit and stick your finger in my pussy. Go. Yes."

She began squirming and bucking against my face. I was no longer the aggressor. She was fucking my face and my finger. She shivered and let out a series of guttural wails. I was pretty sure she had cum. Or she was a hell of an actress. She pulled my leash to the side, away from her genitals. She laid back, eyes closed and panted gently. There was silence for a good minute or two until she regained her composure.

"So, do you like it when I sub you? Betcha never dreamed I'd go this far."

"No Mistress. I'm surprised. I can't believe it. But I love it. I always knew you'd be a great Dom. I just knew it...Mistress."

"Oh, honey. You have no idea. I can test your limits like you never dreamed." She paused. "One more test. You do know what a French kiss is, don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am. It's when you kiss using your tongue," thinking she was about to make out with me.

"Yeah, basically," she acknowledged as she turned over on her stomach, buried her head in a pillow and then raised her rear end. "I want you to French kiss my ass."

I immediately grabbed the globes of her ass and began the most ardent smooching I could muster. I kissed, licked and sucked with the greatest devotion to my new Dom that I could muster.

"French kiss my asshole," she instructed. "Show me you'll do anything I tell you to."

Astonished yet again I was. But I did as I was told. I parted her cheeks and began licking her asshole and even tried probing gently with my tongue. Unsurprisingly, perhaps because she was a goddess in my mind's eye, she tasted clean and even fresh. The exercise didn't last long, but long enough for her to finger her pussy while I licked.

"Good boy," she chided me. "That's enough for now." She wriggled back onto her back and pulled my leash while she pointed to the floor beside the bed. I understood. I crawled off the bed and knelt beside her, on the floor. She held the leash in her hand and pulled on it gently, just enough so I could feel the tension.

"So, now you're my jerk off boy, my cum slut AND you're my ass licker. How does that make you feel?"

"I love to do whatever you tell me to, Mistress."

"Good. I had my doubts. I really didn't think you were up to it. So, I thought I'd test your limits. You've impressed me. So far you haven't hesitated to do anything I've told you to do." She paused. "Is that what you'll always do if I make you my sub? Obey me, always, no questions asked?"

"Yes, Mistress," I assured her. "I'll do anything you tell me to. It's an honor. It's a privilege. I always knew you'd be the best Dom ever. Sure enough, you are."

"Good boy. You can never compliment your Mistress too much." Another pause.

"Ever suck a guy's dick?"

It sounded so out of character for her talk like that. Once again, I was taken aback.

"No, Mistress."

"Ever fantasize about it?"

"No, Mistress."

"What do you like to fantasize about?"

"I like to fantasize about obeying you, Mistress," I answered honestly.

"Oh, right. I knew that." She paused and seemed to choose her words carefully.

"So, here's the deal. My real estate guy is just a fuck buddy. We've planned this get-together for, I don't know, over a month for sure. We do this from time to time. But that's all he is. A fuck buddy." There was another long pause.

"But...I've got another boyfriend, my yoga instructor. He and I have..." she slowed once again and chose her words deliberately "...become intimate. I like him a lot. In between classes I've been going over to his place. Deal is, though, he's bi. And he's suggested that one of his boyfriends join us. I have no interest in that. Ain't gonna happen," she asserted emphatically.

There was another long pause. I speculated in my mind where she was going with this. She tugged gently on the leash, looked me in the eye and continued.

"I'd like for you to meet us after the next class. At his place. Wanna guess what I want you to do?"

The possibilities raced through my mind. Reticence crept in, along with fear. What I began to imagine was not what I had in mind when I thought of being her sub. She was right. I had indeed envisioned some foot worship, some spanking, some bondage, some bossing around. But all of those things were on my terms. A real sub has no terms. The terms of his Dom are all that count. And if he is truly her sub, he'll do as she wishes, not as HE would have her do. That recognition hit me full on as I processed the conversation. I had a vague and increasingly apprehensive idea of what I'd have to do. But I was committed.

"I'll do anything you tell me to do, Mistress," I assured her sheepishly.

"Good boy. That's what I wanted to hear. That's what I expected to hear. Because my yoga instructor has a birthday coming up. And one of HIS big fantasies is that he wants a blow job, before and after he fucks me, but not from me. He wants it from a guy. And you're going to be that guy. You're going to be my cum slut, my ass licker AND my cocksucker."

It suddenly dawned on me. This whole experience today was a kind of test, to see if I'd be up to the task of helping her out with the REAL affair she was having, with her yoga instructor. I felt used. But then, that's what subbing is all about, I reminded myself. Being used by a Dom whom you adore and want to please in every way, no matter what she demands.

"I'll do anything you tell me to do, Mistress," I repeated with even more conviction.

"Good." She reached into her purse on the side of the bed and pulled out a very realistic looking dildo that included some dangling balls. She handed it to me. "Start sucking this."

I was determined to prove to her that I was a good...no...a great sub. I inserted about a third of the eight-inch dildo into my mouth and started sucking it.

"Take it with you. I want you to practice. Think of it as a bunch of rehearsals. It'll be like the pre-season in the NFL. Because when this actually happens, I want you to be in mid-season form and give my boyfriend some amazing blow jobs. It's my special treat for his birthday. Do you have any problem with that?"

For an instant I reflected on just how much things had changed in the past few hours. She and I went from some light flirting and suggestive talk to jerking off, eating cum, licking ass and now cocksucking. While mortified on the one hand, I also felt like the luckiest sub in the world, being bossed around by this adventuresome and demanding Dom. I pulled the dildo out of my mouth just long enough to answer.

"No problem at all, Mistress. I'll practice and make you proud of me."

"And every time you practice sucking the dildo, you're also going to jerk off and cum all over it." She waited a moment for the denouement. "And then you're going to suck up all that cum and lick it clean. After all, you're my cum slut, right?"

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered respectfully. "I'm you're cum slut."

"And I want you to be ready for anything with the birthday boy. Never squeamish, right? A cum slut is eager to take cum in the face, in the mouth, anywhere. Pretend you're a well-paid porn star in a blowjob video. And send me a quick e-mail every time you practice - and you have to practice at least once a week until the birthday party. We've got a couple months."

"Yes, Mistress."

"What else are you, besides my cum slut?"

"I'm your cocksucker and your ass licker, Mistress."

"Good boy. Yes, you are. And don't forget that you're my jerk off boy too - on special occasions. Now go back to the party. Take over bartender duties from Alice. It's probably not going to last much longer. Must be the fourth quarter by now. And then you can start cleaning up. I'll be home pretty soon. Just long enough so it doesn't look too obvious that we met on the side here, if you know what I mean. After all, we have a husband and a wife who don't need to know any of this, right? Unless I decide otherwise."

"Right," I agreed. "It's your call, Mistress."

"That's right. I'll decide who else needs to know that you're my jerk off, cocksucking, cum eating, ass licking slave," she spoke with just a hint of derision. "For now, though, no one besides you, me and, in a couple months, my birthday boy. Which reminds me. When you finally meet him, I want you to introduce yourself by saying, 'I'm her cocksucker, I'm her cum slut and I'm her ass licker.' And address him as 'Sir'. Got it?"

"Yes, Mistress I understand. I'll do it. Thank you, Mistress."

"Good. It will be your way of reassuring him what's inbounds. And by the way...he's a skinny guy but he's hung like a horse, even bigger than that dildo," she giggled, then added with exaggerated emphasis, "and he's in-de-fat-i-ga-ble. Especially after he drinks one of his Viagra energy shakes. Mmmmm."

She's got to be fuckin' with me now, I thought to myself. I looked her in the eye. I couldn't tell. She had me so flummoxed at this point, I was utterly resigned to whatever I'd gotten myself into. She just lay there and smirked, in complete control. Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" lulled softly in the background.

I unhooked my collar and placed it gently on the dresser. I left quietly. I rejoined the party. I took over bartender duties. Indeed, things had thinned out. The game lingered though its outcome was inevitable. Although I was feeling a little ill at ease and uncertain, I quickly put on the persona of the amiable bartender. And I began to realize that my fantasy of being subbed by this woman of my dreams was coming true. Definitely not in the way that I'd envisioned. But if things evolved according to MY plan, it wouldn't have been real subbing. This was real subbing. She was a real Dom...my genuine Mistress.

Finally, I smiled to myself. I felt good. I felt owned. I felt subbed. I felt grateful. I adored my Mistress, my Goddess. I'd to anything she told me to do. I resolved to start "rehearsing" for the birthday party right away. I was determined to make her very, very proud of me.