My Neighbor's Submissive Ch. 01

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Two divorced men, one is dominant, the other submissive.
3.4k words
4.46
48.5k
55

Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 11/14/2018
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marissacd
marissacd
101 Followers

Chapter 1 - Exposure

They moved in next door shortly after we bought our house about five years ago, a nice couple who were a few years older than my wife and me. My name is Michael. I'm twenty-eight years old, white, five-seven, brown hair, blue eyes and a lean build, suitable for cycling, which I do a lot. My wife, is five-four, slim, athletic and blonde. However, we divorced before this story gets going, so the details aren't too important.. I kept the house. Our neighbors, Edmund and Andrea split up soon after. She moved back to her family home in California, and Edmund kept his house as well. Edmund is a handsome black Man, six-one, very fit, with a muscular build, thirty-two years old. He is also a very engaging Man, with a beautiful smile and a penetrating stare. I always found myself unable to hold his gaze when we conversed over the years.

The reason for my divorce, primarily, was my sexuality. i'm not the dominant type. i'm compliant. Submissive, you might say. I love to please. I also have feminine tendencies. I had been into crossdressing since puberty. My physique made it easy for me to find lingerie, shoes and outerwear, and I managed to amass a fair collection. I felt like I looked pretty good when dressed up. My cock is meager, barely four inches hard, with tiny testicles, and so sensitive that I usually cum prematurely. My ex didn't find my submissiveness, crossdressing or small cock the least bit amusing. She may also have been jealous of how good I could look en femme. She left me three years ago and is now living out in Colorado. She married to a rugged, serious-looking rancher. She basically wanted the opposite of me, and she's found him. I'm happy that she's happy.

Following my divorce, I found myself revelling more and more in my alone-time, where I dressed as often as I could. I added breast forms and a wig, and i've been getting really good at makeup. I keep my body hair free, have shaped my eyebrows in a feminine style, and my toenails are almost always painted. I started letting my hair grow longer, because wigs are a drag. I got my ears pierced. I fantasized more and more about being with men. I had never been with a man, never kissed one, or sucked cock or been fucked by one. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that it was inevitable. Specifically, I found myself thinking about Edmund. A lot. Such a beautiful, powerful black Man.

Edmund and I would go to dinner together sometimes, just as two single guys who were neighbors. His was a commanding presence, and when I was with him, I would defer to his choices for where to eat, who drove, and our conversation topics. Sometimes, when we'd go out, i'd wear women's jeans and boots, and panties, of course. I didn't think he would notice, but I found it thrilling.

I would work from home often. I was able to dress up all day on those occasions, and it is heavenly. I felt like I could be passable, but I never had the courage to go out in public. At night, though, I would sometimes venture out dressed as a woman, just for the thrill of it, taking out the trash, getting my mail, or just walking around on the patio or driveway. I was covered by the cloak of darkness, and assumed I was safe. I suppose I secretly hoped Edmund would catch me, but he never did. I didn't know that his security cameras' fields of view reached onto my property, and they were sensitive enough that he was capturing my little walkabouts. That set things in motion, although I didn't know it at the time.

I enjoyed helping Edmund out in a neighborly way. I have a snow thrower and he doesn't, so I would often would do his driveway after I did my own in winter. I would also cut his lawn when he was out of town, which is fairly often for both work and personal reasons. Just being neighborly, I told myself. One Saturday, I thought he was away, and so after cutting my lawn, I proceeded to cut his. I was about half-way done, when he came out, with a drink in his hand, looking relaxed and sexy in a linen shirt, shorts and bare feet. I waved and got off the mower to talk with him. I explained, somewhat embarrassed, how I thought he was away, as I hasn't seen him all week. He said he'd been holed-up studying for a class he's taking, and needed a break. He said he'd let me get back to doing the lawn, and told me to be sure to trim the edges and blow the grass off the driveway too. It wasn't a request. I nodded and said ok, taking the instruction without question.

As I got back to cutting, and he sat on a lounge chair on his deck and watched. Not sure what happened to his need to study. I was all hot and sweaty and had grass clinging to my skin. He was clean and comfortable in the shade, relaxing. I could feel his gaze as I went back and forth, taking extra care to go slow and do a good job. I felt embarrassed and excited all at once. I got an erection that just wouldn't go away. He refreshed his drink and continued watching for a good while, then went back inside. I finished the cutting, and was mostly done trimming when he came back out. I could see he was inspecting my work. After turning off the trimmer, and before I started with the blower, he came over and said, "you missed a few spots, follow me." Sheepishly, I trailed him around the yard as he pointed out where i'd done an inadequate job. I told him i'd take care of it. He said, "I know you will. After you are done, get cleaned up and come back over."

When I finally finished, I put my equipment away, and went into my house. I showered, re-shaved my body, applied lotion, and put on some shorts and a t-shirt, socks and shoes. Panties underneath, as always. My erection was raging the whole time.

He answered the door a minute or so after I rang the bell, and invited me in. I had to remove my shoes, which I hadn't anticipated. My socks were rather thin, and you could see my red-painted nails through the fabric if you looked closely enough. He pointed to the kitchen and said, "I'm just finishing my studying and I'll be right down. Pour me a glass of club soda, and one for yourself as well." One might normally think it strange that in his house he was not serving, and the thought did occur to me. But the reader by now can recognize where the story is heading and perhaps find it less unusual than I did at the time, and thus not be surprised that I took the order without question.

After coming back down, he led me into the living room. He sat first, comfortably on his lounge chair and I sat on the edge of his sofa. As he reclined a bit, his bare feet pointed in my direction. While i've always had a foot fetish, it was for women's feet, never a man's, until this moment. Something about the situation, about how he looked, and how I was feeling, had me enthralled by this display of dominance.

He said, "You did a pretty good job on the lawn today, and it helped me because I can focus on my studies."

I said, "i'm glad I could help. It's really no trouble. Let me know anytime you want me to take care of it." Then, I thought to myself, 'did I really just say that?'

He looked at me, in a serious manner. "My class work goes on all summer."

I looked at him. A line was being crossed. I hesitated, reading his face. His meaning was clear, and I had just said that I'd help him out. "I could cut your lawn all summer, if you like."

"I do," he confirmed. "But you'll need to do a better job than you did today."

My erection returned. I crossed my legs to try to hide it, but I think he saw it. He was bidding me to cut his lawn all summer, and at the same time raising the bar on my performance. How assertive! It raised my excitement to a new level. "Yes, i'm sorry about the missed areas. I will do better." I said, negotiating nothing, merely accepting his decision and his critique. "I have free time, and you are very busy, so it'll be my pleasure,"

I stunned myself with the level of subservience my words displayed. It seemed I could not contain my behavior.

He said, "I can see that you're happy to help." His stare penetrated my soul. "You have a hard-on, don't you?"

Oh my god. I didn't know what to say. I was frozen. Time was frozen. He smiled and said, "It's ok, Michael, I understand about you. It's one of the reasons I like you."

"Wh...what do you mean?" I stammered.

"Michael, there are two kinds of people in the world. Dominants and submissives. You know that, don't you?" He continued, "I like having people do things for me. I'm a Dominant. You like doing things for others. You are submissive."

"No, i'm not, I ..."

He laughed, and said. "Really, it's ok, Michael. We both know it to be true. As I said, I like that about you, in addition to your being a genuinely nice person."

I cast my eyes downward, unable to face him, as he continued.

"There's no reason to be ashamed, Michael. It's just the way you are, and it's okay. More than okay, actually. You see, Michael, a Dominant is unfulfilled unless he has a submissive. The reverse is also true. You are not living your full potential, because you are not given over to a Dom. I know it's part of why your marriage failed. Our exes talked, and mine told me all about you. I also know her. I know that she was unable to be your Domme, it was not in her nature. Submitting to a Dominant is your life's calling. You know this, don't you, Michael?

It wasn't a rhetorical question. It hung in the air like Damocles' sword. I looked up. His eyes were penetrating my soul. They were filled with confidence and understanding and compassion.

My eyes filled with tears, and one ran down my burning red face.

"Say it, Michael, let me know that you know it's true."

"Yes," I said in an almost whisper.

"Yes, what?"

"I am a submissive, i've always been and I always will be."

He smiled. I melted.

"I also know about your feminine side, Michael. Your ex talked about that too, and when I saw you walking around outside in your outfits, and sometimes through your windows, I knew it to be true. I've also noticed the feminine clothes you wear when we go to dinner. I like that you dress that way. I know from your behavior that you wanted to be caught. And do you have. What feminine name do you call yourself, when you are dressed up all pretty?"

My head was spinning, this conversation couldn't be happening.

"i'm such a freak and i'm so sorry..." I rose from the sofa, as if to leave.

"Sit down, Michael," he commanded. I sat. "You are not a freak, Michael. There are a lot of submissives out there. Most of them are women, and so I see it as natural for submissive men to dress as women. It all fits together. It fits who you are as a human. Be who you are, and rejoice in it. Tell me your feminine name."

"marissa," I said, in complete submission to his inquiry.

"Such a pretty name. I understand that you haven't worn male underwear in years. Are you wearing panties under your shorts?"

"Yes," I replied, unable to speak anything but truth to this man.

"Show me," he commanded. I hesitated. "Remove your shirt, pants and socks, marissa." He called me 'marissa.' And it wasn't a question, or a topic of debate. It was a command, and I obeyed. I stripped to my panties. My erection grew it its full blossom, despite the fear and humiliation that was nearly overwhelming me. Or perhaps because of it. Fear of rejection, of ridicule, of being a fool. Humiliated by the rapid and nearly complete dominance Edmund had asserted in such a short time. I stood under his gaze for what seemed like minutes, my hairless body clad only in lace panties, feeling more alive than I could ever remember.

Finally, he smile. Then, he spoke.

"My feet are dirty from walking on the lawn, because I had to come out and show you where you didn't meet my standards." He let the comment hang in the air, as his feet hung off the end of the recliner. I looked at them. His beautiful, masculine feet. They showed no signs of lawn debris, but I understood the game we were playing.

"i'm sorry, Edmund. i'll do better next time."

"I'm sure you will, marissa. But, what shall we do about this situation. We can't have my feet being dirty, can we?"

"No, of course not. I will get you a washcloth"

He looked at me without uttering a word. I knew that was an inadequate solution.

"Or, I could wash them for you."

A nod, and a slight smile. "You'll find what you need in the bathroom." How much further would I fall in this first exchange of power?

Wordlessly, I arose and padded into the the bathroom, conscious of his eyes on my pantied ass. I involuntarily wiggled my hip as i walked, putting on a display. I found a large pitcher, a portable wash basin, soap, washcloth and towel, all arranged. He'd known this would play out as it was. I put warm water and soap in the pitcher, and carefully carried them out, standing before him.

He lowered the recliner and said, "ok, get started." I knelt at his feet, and lifted each one into the basin, touching his muscular calves as I did. He put on the TV and started watching a baseball game, behind me, sipping his drink. I poured some of the water onto his feet, and gently applied the washcloth, caressing his skin with soapy water. One foot, then the other, back and forth for long minutes that went by quickly.

"Rinse them now, fresh water." A terse instruction, to be obeyed promptly. I placed the towel on the floor, and moved his feet onto it. As I rose, my raging erection gave all the evidence needed that I was loving this task. I took the soapy basin away, returning as quickly as I carefully could with warm fresh water in the pitcher and an empty basin.

I knelt before him, feeling natural in that place, rinsed and dabbed his feet with the towel. They were now clean and dry and smelled good. I continued kneeling. He moved a foot and caressed my erection with it. I moaned loudly.

"Did you enjoy washing my feet, marissa?"

"Yes, Sir." I actually called him, "Sir."

He raised first one and the both to my face, his soles covering my face from chin to forehead. I accepted this latest degradation, soaked in it to be truthful. "Do they smell good, marissa?"

"Yes, Sir. Your feet smell wonderful," came my muffled response from behind his soles.

"What would you like to do," he asked, lowering them at last.

"I would like to kiss them, Sir."

"If you ask nicely, I may allow it."

"Please, Sir, may I kiss your feet?"

"marissa, when you ask permission to serve me, I want you to explain your feelings. Convince me that you mean it, and I will consider it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." I humbly replied. He looked at me, waiting.

"Sir, your feet are so beautiful and masculine, and because they are part of you, and you are my Dominant, I want to demonstrate my submissiveness by worshipping them, and I want to bring you pleasure. It will bring me pleasure to do so." I had just officially acknowledged that he was my Dominant, without even realizing it.

Edmund smiled and raised his recliner again, and now the soles of his feet were before my eyes. "Begin."

My first kiss of his body was on the sole of his left foot. I kissed it like it was the most beautiful object in the world. I alternated between them. i'd never known such bliss. My world collapsed. There was no meaning to anything beyond my mouth and his feet. He allowed me to worship him for a long time, while he began reading on his tablet, with the game still on in the background. I was merely another accessory to his pleasurable afternoon. This went on for quite some time. Edmund gave no indication that I should stop, and I intrinsically knew that my task would continue until he did. My new Dominant knew that the longer I abased myself, the further into submission I would go. Down I went, deeper and deeper. I relinquished every last ounce of pride. I kissed and kissed both of his feet. I licked his soles long and slow. I sucked each toe reverently, and worked my tongue between each pair.

Finally, he directed me stop, and sent me back to the bathroom for some lotion. I squirted some into my hands, and warmed it as best I could before gently massaging it into the skin of his feet. When I finished, I waited at his feet for my next move. He kept reading, showing no attention to my presence. I knelt silently, eyes cast downward, with no desire to be anywhere but at his beck and call. I was ready to do anything for him, hoping that he would require it.

"Look at me, marissa," he finally ordered. My eyes rose along his body, up his legs, so solid and muscular. Where they converged, I saw that he was aroused. There was no mistaking the bulge for anything else. It was massive, and it extended down his right thigh. I realized that the head of his cock was lurking at the opening of his shorts, like a viper waiting for the mouse to move just a little closer. I subconsciously licked my lips. I looked no further up his body, mesmerized by the magnitude of both his erection and the situation.

"Have you ever sucked a cock, marissa?" He asked.

Blushing, and swallowing to try to gain my voice, I replied truthfully, "No, Sir, I have not. But it is something that I very much want to do."

He smiled. "I guess we'll see about that," but then added, "that will be all for now, marissa. Go home, but be ready should I require you later," he said, dismissing me as a Master does his servant; our roles now having been cemented permanently. He would be calling all the shots. Of that there had been little doubt; now there was none.

"Yes, Sir." I replied, a bit crest-fallen. I reached to retrieve my clothes, but he stopped me. "Leave them, marissa. Go as you are, and remember this. You are never to set foot in this house again as Michael, only as marissa. Is that understood?"

However shocked I was at the prospects of crossdressing in front of him, not to mention mad dash across our driveways in just my panties, I didn't see a choice. Certainly, disobeying was not a choice. I was also far too aroused to be able to think clearly. "Yes, Sir," was all I said again.

Our properties are fairly secluded, so the risk of exposure was actually minimal, and I made the crossing with no issue, although I suppose Edmund watched with amusement on the security camera. My heart was racing, however, and my little erection was as big as it ever gets.

marissacd
marissacd
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ColonelinguistColonelinguistabout 2 months ago

By bringing your readers into Marissa’s mind set, we all held our breath, if only for a second when Edmund instructed her to strip down to her sexy panties, right there in front of him!

At that moment I thought ‘does daydreaming about being down on my knees, have my lips sucking on a big fat white cock, wearing just a sexy white thong and my Mary Janes, make me a submissive sissy too?’ And I think we all know the answer to that one!

When Edmund tells her how she should ask for permission to serve him by verbally convincing him why she wanted to, and that he would take her request into consideration, was brilliant, I might add. Who ever said that a dominant master has to be some kinda mean ass jerk away?

These ones that make me search my soul and my consciousness are my favorite stories of all. Thank you for that Marissa.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 year ago

I love the beauty and sexual tension of this story -- and they have only just begun !!

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

I so loved this and for so many years have wanted this to happen to me, i so need a man to serve and obey!

MasterTjWMasterTjWover 4 years ago
I'd love to own Marissa

This has been a fantasy of mine - to have a submissive CD surrender her life and her ass to me. This scenario is so hot! Keep up the good work, Marissa.

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