She Made Me Feel So Naked

The set up

Ooh, I like her.

I was in bed scanning the dominatrix listings. It's where I always go when I'm done looking at the women who wrestle men. A short, fat, young beauty was posing in various lingerie with an enticing, mischievous smirk. I clicked on the Services tab hopefully. She didn't say she wrestled, but she offered "beatdowns." She looked tough, intense. She didn't call herself a goddess, or solicit worthless pig-sluts. She was just a "kink provider specializing in power exchange."

99 percent of the time I jerk off and forget about my browsing the second it's over. But there's a reason I always search the listings in my city: the possibility is exciting, and about once a year I succumb to the temptation. I'd never seen this woman before. I wanted to meet this woman. I sent an email, typing with one hand as I touched myself to her image. She was in a military uniform with her knee raised on a platform, ordering someone to assume the position for a spanking. There was a twinkle in her eye which said there was no way her victim would get off light.

"Dear Mistress N____, I'm writing to inquire to what, if any, extent you offer wrestling. If not, I may still be interested in a session, but I'm very curious about your capacity to beat a man."

She wrote back suggesting we set up a call. I made sure I was alone, in my car. As the minutes ticked down, my heart was pounding and my throat was dry. I'd done this several times now but the nerves never left.

"Hello, is this Fred?" asked a young, feminine voice.

"Yes, hello," I cracked, then cleared my throat, "Mistress N____?"

"Hi, Fred. I read your email. Tell me a bit more about what you're looking for."

I liked her voice and slowly relaxed. My hand soon slipped down my pants.

"Well, I like wrestling women, but I also like dominatrixes. I usually go for a combination."

"I'm not a trained wrestler, but I know a few I could recommend."

"Well, the thing is, I'm not trained either. I'm pretty bad at it. But I like to try as hard as I can and get my ass kicked. Are you okay with me fighting back a little? I'm not interested in hurting you. I would hold back as much as you need to be in control. Perhaps I could let you start by pinning me, to see if I can escape?"

"Well, it's really up to you," she said nonchalantly. "As you can see, I'm a big woman. I'm strong, stronger than I look. If it's important to you to resist a little, I can accommodate that." She made her voice slow and sexy as she said, "I'm confident I can humiliate you, Fred." I saw her smiling through the phone, confident indeed. "Tell you what: you think about it and send me an email if you want to book."

Just as the conversation was ending, I thought out loud: "I've seen some dommes, but I don't think I've ever had anyone really be a bitch to me yet--I'm not calling you a bitch, please understand."

"No, it's completely fine. I understand just what you're saying...Well, I'm extremely dominant. My beatdown sessions are some of my best. I get off on the gender reversal, personally."

"Well, I'll think about it. You've been very helpful, Mistress."

She never claimed to wrestle. I was worried I'd have to let her win. But in the end I loved her pictures too much to resist.

The takedown

She opened the door to her house already clad in bra and panties and the mischievous smile from her pictures.

"Sit down on the couch." She sat close to me and was batting her eyes coquettishly. "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. I am every time. Are you?"

"Yes," she said simply, without hesitation. "Before we start, can you just tell me how you want to feel tonight? You can give me a couple of adjectives."

"Ummm, I wanna feel..." I really wanted her to touch me, but I didn't want to come out and say it. "Violated...Molested."

She smiled and nodded.

"You have a great body," I said, looking at her outrageous thighs. She was a BBW, alright. Young and pretty. Her breasts and ass were much more shapely than her middle.

"You're the bitch in this situation," she said. "It's time to get you naked. You'll be calling me Mistress."

"Mistress N____?" I had seen someone get spanked in a video for not using his mistress's full name.

"Just Mistress. Stand on that rug over there and take off your shirt and pants."

I unbuckled and let my pants drop and stepped out of them, and then pulled my shirt off and dropped it on the pants. I felt her gaze all over me.

"You're not at home. Fold them and put them on that table. Take my money out of your pocket and put it on top. Now, get on all fours ...Take your underwear off without getting up."

I tipped forward struggling to pull my briefs past my knees and bumped my forehead on the floor. She laughed uproariously. "Put your underpants next to your clothes and then run upstairs into the room at the top of the stairs. Get on all fours with your ass facing the door and wait for me."

The room had full mirrors on every side. I looked at myself from various angles and felt extremely naked. I heard her heavy steps on the stairs. She walked around me and I looked up at her from my knees. "So, you like to wrestle. Who do you think would win if we wrestled?"

"I'd like to find out."

"You'd like to find out. Well, if you do exactly what I say, you may earn a wrestling match with me. How does that sound?"

"Great, mistress."

She walked to the corner where I now noticed her rack of tools. She pulled out a paddle and faced me. I was still on all fours. My dick was soft and it looked small. She was biting her lip with an expression of vicious sadism. "I can use this side, which is unpadded," she said, smacking the paddle against her palm. "Or I can turn it over on this side--it travels faster." She kept smacking the paddle to show the damage it could do. My heart leapt into my throat. I didn't ask to be beaten with tools. I wanted to feel her hand on my ass. Each whack had the effect on me of an actual blow. Each time, I flinched, until I lost my balance on one of my elbows and my chin and torso hit the floor.

She walked over and stood over me as I turned onto my back. She squatted down so the crotch of her panties hovered just over my exposed manhood. "Try to hump me." She had a broad, playful smile. As fast as I could, I bridged upwards to make contact. But she was surprisingly nimble and stood up and out of my reach. She did it two or three more times and I couldn't catch her. "That's tease and denial," she laughed joyfully. "Stand up...Now, you said in your email you're nervous about spanking, because you have a history of ejaculation. Well, you don't look like you're close to ejaculating yet."

I realized I was almost completely flaccid. Yet I had never been so turned on psychologically. "I don't know why," I said apologetically. "I'm confused."

"Oh, is my bitch confused?" she growled in my ear. Then she smiled again. "That's okay. I like when the guy can't cum. I'll start easy just in case."

After a long, pregnant pause, she spanked me so hard I almost fell down from the first hit. A deep-throated, pained, unmistakably sexual grunt escaped me. "Was that hard enough?"

"I liked it," I managed, gasping.

After finishing the punishing hand-spanking, she ordered me to lie down on a table. She sat on my face with her back to me. She didn't grind or bounce but sat a bit off my face, in a dainty manner, giving me room to worship her ass properly. Suddenly, I thought I was having a head to toe orgasm. I felt her luscious lips and saliva on my skin. I realized she was biting my belly. I screamed in pain and pleasure.

Then she stood up. "Yellow light means you need a break. Red light means stop completely."

With no further warning, she punched me in the stomach and shoulders and hips and once or twice in the face. She hit me so hard my whole body began twitching in shock. None of them were knockout blows, but they rained down in rapid flurries and every one hurt. I had no will to fight back. I was too petrified to do a thing. I knew I needed mercy when a punch to my thigh grazed my scrotum, but I caught a few extra punches before I could gather my wits to call "yellow light." She stopped and laughed right in my face, then spat on me.

"You know, you have a lot less muscle than I was expecting," she said. She lay down on the floor on her back. "Okay, let's do this," she said. "Come on over and pin me." I crawled over and lay on top of her. "Are you ready?" she asked. I nodded. Three seconds later our positions were reversed. It felt like I was mauled by a wild animal. She gave my arms instant red welts from her grip. It was a grip on my soul. Yet she was all a woman could be as she caressed my face with her silky black hair and wonderful breasts.

She stood up, only slightly winded. "I win. I knew you were a pussy, Fred. Well, that was our first session."

I slowly gathered myself, a sweaty, panting mess. I crawled to her and started kissing her feet and legs. "Is this okay, Mistress?"

She nodded. "Put your clothes back on and I'll get you some water."

Afterward

"Stay there," she said. "We have time."

I looked up from the couch as she was bringing the glass. I had never released. She hadn't really touched my penis. She hadn't been naked.

"I'm having strong romantic, crush-type feelings," I blurted. "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No, you're fine."

"Do you ever date your clients?"

"No. Well, I'm in a relationship with one, sort of. I live with a full-time sub."

"I'd like to be in a relationship with you. But we couldn't let anyone else know what was going on." She shook her head with a wry smile. "Well, it's not the craziest way for two people to meet," I pleaded.

"It isn't."

"You remind me of women from real life. I feel like we could have dated in college or something. I don't suppose you're attracted to me at all."

"I'm not." She said it without any malice or judgment. "I get off on power. I was turned on by turning you on. If you want my advice, you shouldn't seek a sex worker like it's a date. This is just play. You were open about what you wanted and we both got our needs met."

"I'm sorry. Don't listen to me. I've always been this way. I have delusions, blur the lines. Even when a stripper is talking to a guy at the other end of the bar, I feel jealous."

"I used to be a stripper," she said. "That was a hundred pounds ago."

"I'm not surprised. You're so beautiful. And you have such command of your sexuality."

"I try. I had a great time. How about you?"

"It was mind blowing. I pay women to beat me at wrestling, and I've never felt as humiliated as you just made me feel." She nodded knowingly. "And yet I was getting what I wanted. It was like a full hit of a drug I've only sampled in moments of other sessions. I just let go, sank deeper under your spell. You took me places I've never been. No one's ever talked to me the way you did. No one's ever looked at me that way. Like a piece of meat. I felt so naked."

"You were naked. One more thing before you go," she said, handing me a towel. "Pull down your pants and take out your dick." I did. It was raging hard, finally. "I'm going to stroke it while you tell me what you want me to do in our next session."

Her hand was warm, her touch as gentle as it had been rough. "I want you to fuck me up," I said lamely, breathing heavily.

"What else?" she said with a smile.

"Really kick my ass. Pin me, then flip me on to my stomach and spank me until I cum...I want you to pee on me. Call me a bitch and a pussy again. I want you to put your finger in my ass. Oh god, I'm gonna cum..."

"Stop right there, and put your dick back." She pulled my underwear back on for me. My dick had just started dribbling into the towel. "You can finish tonight while you think about it. I'll be doing the same," she winked. We hugged goodbye at the door.