Mrs. Type-A Loses Control Ch. 01

A short disclaimer...and a dedication.

This is my first foray into the BDSM category. I recognize that I'm a newbie who has no real-world experience. I can only offer you one thing - my genuine feelings as an unrealized submissive. Having admitted that, I do hope you can find something here that's worthy of your time. I do appreciate your time...

It would have never occurred to me to write this story if not for a lengthy DM exchange with a dominant person here on the Literotica forums. I won't reveal his name, but he will know (should he ever read this story). Our exchanges spanned several hours over the course of two or three days.

He was (is) good at what he does. He drew out of me a side - a submissive side - that I never knew lie dormant within. But I ended up being unable to handle it. I was shaken and alarmed by his control, by the things I so shockingly, yet so willingly, admitted to and said. It was freeing but scary. I lost sleep. My mind raced. My heart raced. I concluded it was all too unhealthy.

He graciously bowed out when I told him I had to stop. This man is a gentleman.

But what he revealed to me - about me - was real. Even though what follows is fiction, I assure you this is me...

You know who you are. Thank you, my one-time Master.

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Fuck, I don't even know where to start. How far back should I go?

Whatever, I just need to start. I can always adjust I guess...

My daughter, Melinda, fell for a boy back in middle school. Jonathan. Seems like a lifetime ago as I sit here, typing this. As I filter those old memories through what's happened the last couple months.

Jonny and Mel were on-again, off-again throughout that time. Mostly on. But sometimes really, really off.

Oh, the drama! He'd given in to temptation a couple times before they got "serious" in their junior year.

Jonny's dalliances with other girls didn't surprise me or my husband. A good-looking kid, pretty funny, generally "sunny" and positive, he was popular. And intelligent. So I'd always assumed he'd eventually end up with some other girl. And then my beautiful Melinda would find someone else. But she never did.

It's one of those defining memories of parenthood - consoling one's daughter after a break-up with her boyfriend. My poor Mel. Young love is so all-consuming and it cuts so deep when it crashes and burns. I have my own memories of that. Growing up can suck.

But Mel and Jonny always found paths that brought them back together. Now they were both college sophomores at a state school 45 minutes from home. And still together. The day they went off to college I remember thinking, "Who knows? Maybe they have a shot at 'forever.'"

My husband, being a protective dad, was always a little intimidating when it came to Jonny. It was kind of funny, and more than a little endearing, watching Jonny's deferential, careful interactions with Tim.

Jonny was respectful towards me. I assume, trying to stay on my good side. I'm pretty type-A, an authority figure professionally (no, not gonna elaborate on that). So I'm used to people trying to stay on my good side as a general rule.

Anyway, in terms of background story, Jonny was a good kid, mostly treated our daughter like a princess, was clearly going places in life, had a bright future - all that. He was a part of our family. We considered ourselves lucky that our beloved daughter had such a decent boyfriend. Lord knows, she could have done a lot worse.

So back to the present...

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During this past Christmas break, a couple months ago, Mel and I were watching some show on TV as we lounged on the couch. My husband was off doing something - I forget, doesn't matter. Mel would occasionally check her phone - texting, again, always(!). She seemed restless.

The dog yowled - he wanted out into the backyard. Mel put down her phone as she leapt to her feet to attend to him. Our poor old pooch is borderline incontinent and when he needs to go, we are all real motivated to ensure it happens out back, not in the house. Basically, the dog has us trained. So off Mel went without a word.

Her phone buzzed. When she'd gotten up, she'd pushed it mostly into the crack between the couch arm and the seat cushion.

I do not know why I leaned way over and grabbed her phone. Curiosity? Not really. Nosiness? No. Just to tell her that someone texted her? Who it was? I dunno. I just can't honestly recall. It was such an unimportant thing.

But it changed my life.

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I expected one of those notification things on her lock screen. But her iPhone wasn't locked. The text app was up. She'd been texting with Jonny.

His dick. A photo of his cock. Right there on my daughter's phone. Just below that, "Like when you suck my cock right??"

Of course, my college sophomore and her boyfriend were having sex. In fact, his parents were vacationing in Europe and he had the family home to himself this Christmas break. And he and Mel were over there a lot. No doubt doing what they do. I and my husband had no issue whatsoever with Mel and Jonny having a sex life. I mean, they're both 20.

But I was still stunned at the image. I was NOT supposed to be seeing this!

Worse though was her reply. It knocked me off balance, making me dizzy.

"Yes Master."

I shoved the phone back where I'd found it and retreated to my side of the couch...

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Mel came back, the dog padding behind her. She sat back down and we finished watching the show. I felt a little zombie-like as I willed myself to focus on the TV. She continued texting. She was "squirmy," vice restless. I wasn't supposed to know why.

Once the show ended, I gave Mel a kiss on the top of her head and headed upstairs for the night.

I sat on the edge of my bed and gave in to the burning urge to recall That Dick.

Oh my.

And the implied image: my Mel on her knees, sucking it. Sucking that big thing for her "Master."

I felt guilty. I knew I should be shoving all of this out of my mind. I just couldn't.

That Dick!

What the fuck was wrong with me? I felt both dread and exultation in response to the signals from my clit.

I refused to touch myself though. It was all so wrong, on lots of levels. Fuck!!!!

I was ashamed, angry at myself.

Tim came in, took one look at me and asked me what was wrong, concern on his face.

I forced a little smile and deflected, mumbling something about the sad TV show we'd watched.

With hindsight, I guess I should have confided in my husband. It might have headed off what was to come...

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Alone the next day, I searched the web to learn what I could, given my daughter's "Master" reference to her boyfriend.

Neither my husband nor I have ever been inclined to any dom/sub stuff. Or any flavor of BDSM. Or whatever. I just have zero knowledge of that kind of thing. I never even read "50 Shades of Grey," seemingly a cliche requirement for my demographic.

Maybe it meant nothing. But a mother's natural instinct is to default to "assume the worst."

I read a lot of stuff. Lot of rabbit holes out there with respect to this topic, some pretty dark if you ask me.

I stumbled on a short confessional thing written by a woman who I guess gave herself over to the "worship of cock."

Something about it...the way she wrote...it was visceral. I took my laptop up to my bedroom and re-read it while plunging my dildo in and out of my shockingly receptive pussy, my wrist slamming my clit, until I came super, super hard. One of my full-body, every-muscle-clinching, orgasms. My eyes shut, I pictured That Dick. In those moments I gave myself over to the idea of worshipping That Dick.

Jonny's big Dick.

As I collected myself, steadying my breathing, I felt...numb. I didn't feel guilty. Didn't feel much at all, other than the glow of sexual relief. I was ok.

I concluded I'd just needed to get that out of my system.

I would remain concerned for my kid, watchful for telltale signs of abuse, but that was pretty unlikely. Still, I'm a mom...

Although, "Hey," I asked myself, "how about that reaction?" Meaning, my reaction to the notion of completely subjugating myself to cock, as if cock itself was some symbol worthy of reverence, of worship? That was unsettling. But I'd climaxed like two freight trains colliding head on. It was fantastic.

I needed to rationalize and I did. It was just the newness of the 'out-there' fantasy, right? This "master" thing from out of left field. That's it probably. Plus I'd gotten a glimpse of a nice dick - something dirty and forbidden. Not some porn-dick on the internet - a person that I knew well. A real person. And it'd been over 20-something years since I'd glimpsed the cock of anyone I knew, besides my husband.

So that explains it. I'm fine.

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A couple days later, the group was planning to be over at our place to watch a football game. Yet another chance for me to play hostess woo-hoo! Actually, it's not that bad. And this time I found myself looking forward to it. No special reason...

Yeah.

Thinking about it now it's like I had the capacity to willfully shut out what I was so obviously doing - the ability to not think about the extra care I took doing my makeup. To not think about the clothing choices. The 'a-little-too-tight' tee shirt. That kind of thing. Nope, nothing going on here.

And really, after all, it's just another evening with the four of us.

I got the door when the bell rang. Jonny. All six-three of him, a foot taller than me.

The foggy veil of denial I'd mentally cloaked myself in was swept away as I greeted him.

I did a pretty good job of keeping it casual as I let him in. But my head did spin just a little as we greeted one another in the usual way - the obligatory brief hug/cheek kiss. Yeah, definitely a little dizziness as he and That Dick brushed past me bound for the living room.

I briefly considered finding an reason to excuse myself for another little solo session with my dildo. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I set out the snacks, offered drinks, made chit-chat.

I tried to not get busted as I threw my casual little glances at Jonny's crotch. At the blue jean material covering That Dick.

Other than that, it was a normal evening. It was nice.

Tim had golfed all day. He was tired, so he bailed on us in the fourth quarter.

By that time, Mel had fallen asleep with her head on Jonny's lap on the couch.

I was in a recliner, in and out of my sex-trance-fog, alternatively embracing and fighting off the image of That Dick I'd seen on my daughter's phone. That Dick that was ten feet away from me.

I caught him shifting with Mel's face in his lap. It was then that realized...erection. Subtle but how had I not noticed it before? Given my weird stupid fixation, his discernible bulge momentarily commanded my gaze. I was locked on...too long(!) I needed to stop looking...stop looking now!... a rising spike of panic...and then...

My eyes flicked up from his hardness to meet his eyes, the fleeting moment instantly, intensely uncomfortable. We both quickly looked back at the TV. Awkward! Super awkward!

Flooding panic. I mean, real panic - not good. Goddammit Victoria!! Fuck!!

The ensuing silence - five, ten seconds(?) - was excruciating.

Finally, he managed to choke out, "Uh, well, think I'm gonna get going Mrs. R."

Not looking at him, "Ok, Jonny."

He slid out from under Mel, gently lowering her head to the couch as she slept. She was really zonked out. I needed her to wake up just now. But no.

And there we were, stupidly standing there, not looking at one another. Both(?) feeling compelled to say something. Anything. Yet, there was nothing. Silence.

A dozen or so pounding heartbeats later, "Mrs. R, could you hand me my coat?"

And for the life of me I shall never understand why I responded, "Yes, Master."

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His eyes lit up in what looked like wild ... confusion.

I just froze, not even fucking believing I'd said that.

He looked at me. Differently.

I'm sure I looked like a deer in the headlights, reeling from my insane slip-up. I desperately needed to speak, to say something to defuse, to deflect, something. But nothing came out.

I can't tell you what he was thinking or how he was processing it all. All I can tell you is he adopted a low, commanding voice and said, "Come with me."

I followed him in a haze to the front door where he turned around and looked at me hard.

"Say it again."

What??? Oh...

"Yes, Master."

"Why aren't you on your knees?"

I almost feinted. I swear to you I heard my bloodstream in my ears.

"Yes, Master," as I dropped to my knees.

"You're just like your daughter, aren't you, Victoria?" He never called me that.

"I...I don't know...I..."

"She usually begs first. So beg."

I'd no idea how my little Mel, my child, begs for cock so I did my best to mimic what I'd read in that story, the one I'd masturbated to.

"Master, I need cock. I need to worship cock. I love cocks. Please allow me Master."

"Unzip me. Take it out."

I was in a trance, in some weird space. I unhurriedly undid his belt buckle. I unclasped his jeans button, unzipped his fly, and then tugged his jeans down. He wore no underwear.

And there it was.

That Dick.

And those Balls.

Both so heavy. Both so...full looking.

So perfect.

"Put your hands behind your back. You will never use your hands."

"Yes, Master" as I lost myself in every detail of his bobbing, heavy cock.

"I own you now Victoria. Both you and Melinda. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." I wasn't entirely sure what it meant though. I still don't know.

"We don't have much time. Obviously. It's important that I document my ownership of you."

"Yes, Master."

"Give me your wedding ring."

I slipped it off and handed it to him. He took out his phone. He placed my ring on the fat head of his now erect dick.

"Put my balls in your mouth."

I struggled to get them both in but I did it. They were smooth. So warm. Perfect balls. I'm just lost here. Just lost. I've utterly lost control. In free fall. Utterly willing.

He proceeded to take pictures.

"Suck my balls."

I was already sucking them, trying my best to move my tongue in my overfull mouth. Doing my best to lovingly bathe the back of his ball sack with my tongue. His oh-so-weighty cock rested on my face.

"Here, look at this..."'

Jonny turned his phone around. I was expecting to see the picture he'd just taken of me. Proof of his ownership of me.

But it was Mel. My beautiful daughter, Melinda, doing precisely what I was now doing. Sucking his balls while gazing wantonly into the camera. His dick spanning her face up a bit beyond her hairline.

"You see how I own her? She'll do anything for me. Just like you will. Do you understand, Victoria?"

I released his wet balls from my mouth. To answer my Master.

"Yes, Master."

"Begin, Victoria. Begin your new life."

"Yes, Master."

I understood. I understood the command.

I blew my daughter's boyfriend in my foyer as she slept in the next room on the couch, as my husband slept in our bed upstairs.

I remember using my right hand to steady myself. I had left my briefcase there in the foyer. My hand was now on it, giving me the leverage to forcefully thrust my face up and down the considerable length of my daughter's boyfriend's dick. That briefcase contained paperwork associated with million dollar investment decisions. People awaited my decisions the next day at work.

But for now, I sucked Jonny's dick with every ounce of passion I could possibly generate. To my utmost. So deep.

I worshipped in every sense of the word. I was transformed by the act. I was transformed from a mere cocksucker into a cock worshipper. I was so perfectly focused.

"Cock," I thought. "I only exist to serve cock."

As he neared his climax, he withdrew and I whimpered. He jacked himself off all over my face, a first for me. So much cum, in ribbons and ropes all over my face and hair.

He struggled to maintain his footing a bit. Jonny had been holding my wedding ring - I'd forgotten about it.

He carefully rubbed my ring on the cum on my forehead.

"Give me your hand...your left hand."

He slowly slipped the golden cum-slicked band back into place on my ring finger. I flashed briefly back to my wedding, Tim sliding that ring on my finger in the church, before all those people.

Now on my knees, cum covering my face... this was...a ceremony.

"Suck that off. Eat your master's cum off your wedding ring, Victoria."

I made deliberate, steady eye contact as I complied. Sucking. Tasting. Chills.

Jonny watched. Seemed satisfied. He collected himself, stowing his still swollen dick - the object of my veneration - into his jeans. Again, I whimpered.

He turned and left.

I remained on my knees for a time. Eventually, I rose. Stunned, I wondered what my life was about to be from that point on - newly owned - as I gazed down at my wedding band.

I went into the downstairs bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Oh, my God.

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There's more to explore here. I've added "Ch. 01" to the title of this story in the off-chance that more is desired.

I've found this a bit emotionally draining, so if there is to be a second chapter, it may be awhile.

Since this is fiction - unlike my first postings which were real encounters - I'm open to suggestions. If they align with what triggers me, I may adopt them. No promises.

If you made it this far, thank you.

Victoria