The Dom you Want Pt. 05

I spent the drive home crying. Not because I was upset or because I was so happy, just because I was having so many powerful feelings at once. The trigger was when I reached the end of his driveway and saw a text saying, "I miss you already."

Most of the day I was in submission, if you have never experienced that, picture being a happy drunk at 4AM. That's not a good analogy, it's just the best I can do to describe something that combines cognitive impairment, joy and total relaxation. Sir checked on me every hour or so, some people have a rocky time transitioning back. I began coming out of it late in the afternoon and started looking back on the weekend or more accurately back on him. I don't consider myself a beauty but every woman who has a decent figure and a face that doesn't scare children learns early in life to be suspicious of men. My first thought was that I wanted to drive to his house and beg him to ravish me, my second thought was that I was in love with him, my third was that he was way too good to be true. Dominant men worth their salt are invariably alpha males and like most women I think that most alpha males should be on beta blockers. They are brash and rude and arrogant all of which can be attractive in smaller measures than the ever seem to have. Above all they are notorious for their infidelity and having been through that twice I am not going to let it happen a third time.

It came down to the question do I believe him or maybe do I believe in him. He was totally in control every moment we were together and had been even when we were just emailing. But, he never raised his voice, he never denigrated me even when he was inside my ass and he seemed unbelievably understanding. I'm sure I have met a man who was genuinely understanding before but it would take me a long time to remember when. Suddenly I remembered how gentle he was. That was so weird, he did things to my body that probably qualify as felonies but his words and his manner were so gentle. I went down a rabbit hole of memories and loving thoughts and almost texted him for permission to give myself an orgasm but after the weekend I might need an epidural before I could play with myself. That sent me down another rabbit hole, I know Sir ordered me not to be embarrassed but I had ridden him like a pony on PCP, not my most ladylike performance, worse yet not at all submissive. The not submissive part I could make myself okay with, there was no doubt in my mind that he could have brought me back under control in a second. The pony part was harder to cope with but it also opened up a new train of thought. Most of the men I have been with, not that many in spite of my behavior over the weekend, would have run away screaming if I had acted like that. Probably calling me a nympho and a psycho as the door closed. Sir never considered his masculinity or his dominance challenged and basically just sat back and enjoyed the show.

"Enjoyed the show" opened another can of worms. Any woman will tell you that a man only really looks at you twice, once to make sure that you are f...able and don't have any flaws big enough for their friends to tease about and again when they are deciding if it's time to move on. In between they only really look at your breasts and ass and usually even those only when they are warming up for sex. Sir really looked at me over and over again and even stranger I felt like he really saw me. If you don't understand what that means and what it means to a woman ask one, you will probably be surprised at what you hear. I began crying again. It had hit me like a thunderbolt, a man can fake laughing at your jokes, fake loving you and your kids and your cat, fake finding you beautiful or smart or sexy. They can't fake dozens of lust-filled and love filled stares, some of which came with easily detectable physical reactions. Easily detectable, God how I wanted him inside me again!

I gave it fifteen minutes so that my subconscious had time to point out anything my rational mind was missing. When it was over I texted, "Please tell me some way that I can show you how much I am your slave Sir." I was expecting a request for a naked photo (oh yes, I would have) or an order to masturbate while sitting in the closet or something like that. His reply came so fast that I knew he hadn't thought out some devious strategy.

I read it over and over then I read it over and over then I cried, "Write me a love letter. What's in your heart, not what you think I would like to hear." My roommate has been my friend for years and she knew that I had needed to be left alone with my thoughts up until now.

"Okay, that's at least the third time you have cried today. Go fix your face then we are going to Henry's." Henry's is a neighborhood dive bar where we go sometimes to either celebrate or cheer up. I wondered what to tell Sir until I remembered that I wasn't allowed to lie.

"Sir, your text filled my heart with so much love that it came out as tears. Now my roommate is insisting that we go out for a while. May I write you later?"

"I am glad you live with someone who loves you Love. Enjoy and write to me when time permits. No flirting while you are out though."

The tears came again so it took a while to fix my makeup then we went out and played darts and a retro Ms. Packman game. My roommate knows me well and kept me from thinking about Sir which also kept me from crying the whole time. I got home at 11 which is 30 minutes past my bedtime. When I had my makeup off and my jammies on I sent Sir one last text, "I love you so much that I want you to possess me and do anything to me that brings you pleasure. Long version to follow."

I got back, "I love you so much that I signed up to look after you for the rest of my life. Sleep well and make your first thought of the day, "I am loved."" He didn't say use, or fuck, or own, look after! My eyes were wet again as I went to sleep.

The next day I woke up thinking about Sir but once I was out the door I didn't think about him for more than an occasional moment all morning. I have an intense job with little room for distractions. I broke for lunch at noon and texted Sir, "I want you inside me."

I got back, "Are you busy at 12:02?"

I was past the crying part of being in love but I couldn't help swooning over his since of humor. Having met a few Doms before I would have been impressed that he even had one but the fact that his was actually good and usually modest or self-deprecating was so sexy I could hardly stand it. We traded a few more texts then I ate my salad and went back to work. I have dieted a few times before, probably about 40% of my life, and I have always resented it. Today I was doing it to be more pleasing to Sir and truth be told, to induce him into more sex, and it felt wonderful.

For the next few days we fell into a pattern, a good morning text, a lunch text, a long phone call in the evening and a short call at bedtime. I had begged Sir to believe that I wanted him with every fiber of my being but to let me wait until Friday to serve him again since I didn't think I could work effectively the next day. Thursday at lunch he texted, "Is this close enough to the weekend to fake it?"

My first reply was, "I would like to Sir but..." My second text was, "Fuck it, I'll be there at 7"

My heart soared and crashed and set fire to my pussy when he replied, "At 7:15 we will discuss your language. Until then I'm going to be busy kissing you."

As I packed I felt terrible about breaking Sir's language rule. At the same time, I had to struggle to keep my hands above my waist as I pictured various ways he might punish me. I got to his house a little early. I thought his 15-minute kiss had been hyperbole but allowing for a few breathing breaks and a minute or two of looking at me after he ordered me to undress he really did it. That made me fall even more in love with him in two ways, first that he liked to kiss, way too many men only kiss because it's a requirement for getting sex. More than that or at least in addition to that he did it right. First, he held me and kissed me softly, next he held the back of my head and kissed me like he owned me, finally he backed me into the wall and pressed me between it and him as he devoured my mouth. When he finished something was embarrassing me, since I'm not allowed to be embarrassed I fessed up, "Sir, that made me so wet that you could have entered me after the first minute." He was genuinely delighted which mostly converted my embarrassment into pleasure for having pleased him so.

I would have skipped dinner if I could have. In my perfect world he would have swept the dishes off of the table and bent me over it for a few hours. That feeling grew when I saw that we were having salmon. I don't hate salmon but it would never have been my first choice. He read the look on my face like a book (Like I wasn't excited enough, he really saw me again!) and said, "Looks like you aren't salmon's biggest fan, try a bite and if you hate it I will fix something else for you. The fact that I had to resist raping him on the floor seemed totally unfair. I assured him that it would be fine and smiled as I tried a nice big bite. Suddenly the problem shifted and I was struggling to make myself use silverware rather than just shoving the entire thing into my mouth. He read me again and said, "I have been told that recipe is pretty decent." I answered with a nod as I converted my fork into a high-speed shovel.

When I was able to slow down enough to talk I asked him, "Have you always been such a good cook Sir?"

He shrugged and said, "Not really, I used to have to keep the dental floss out of the kitchen."

That seemed odd so I asked, "Did it do something strange to your teeth Sir?"

"Nah, the cockroaches kept hanging themselves." It took me a couple of seconds to get the joke then I started laughing so hard I was afraid I was going to see the salmon again.

When I was able to breath again I asked, "Just for the record Sir. Is there a rule against attacking you like an angry vacuum cleaner?"

It was his turn to laugh out loud. When he was mostly finished he replied, "I'm pretty sure you would get away with it but you would be missing the cheesecake."

He worried more about letting my food settle than I did last weekend but tonight I needed it. We made a mutual decision to ignore the kitchen and I put on my sexiest waddle to make it to the couch. Once again, he put my favorite show, the one about upcycling flea market items, on and I settled contentedly into his arms. The next thing I knew I woke up, horrified that I had not only gone to sleep on my Master but I had wasted most of our evening together. When I tried to apologize he silenced me with a finger across my lips and said, "I like that you feel so safe with me that you can go to sleep so easily and if I had wanted you to be doing something I would have woken you up."

"I'm already madly in love with you Sir, you can stop being so perfect now."

"It's just common-sense Love. Besides, it means I will get to enjoy you more tomorrow night. Now, it's time for your punishment, go use the restroom then lay on our bed on your back with your arms and legs spread wide."

The happy tears tried to come back as I used the bathroom. Understanding, forgiving, sensible, and still all man and all Dom. I didn't care if he was about to use a blowtorch on me, I was going to accept his punishment and thank him for it. I spread myself on "our bed" dear lord he actually said "Our bed!" as fetchingly as I could, unconsciously accepting the fact that he really does love looking at me. After a few minutes I began to wonder if part of my punishment was to be left alone for a long time then I heard the toilet flush. I laughed to myself thinking that was the first sign that he was really human all night. I laughed at myself again a second later when I thought, "No, he's just faking it to make me comfortable."

When he came in he said, "Don't move a muscle." Then he began running his hands over my skin. He touched me everywhere and I wondered if he knew how good that felt or is he was just enjoying his slave. Of course, the answer had to be both. Finally, moments before my nervous system lit my hair on fire he laid down on top of me and gently entered me. Just as I was about to turn into a human pogo stick he said, "Do not move or speak or orgasm Slave." He kept taking me slowly and softly, if I had been allowed to speak I would have screamed for more and harder. When several minutes had passed and he was still going soft and slow I realized what my punishment actually was. He gave a low evil chuckle and said, "Now I want you perfectly silent Slave." The first battle was remaining silent, the second battle was not coming. Soft and slow has never been my preference but his total control of me was a huge turn on and towards the end he was a lot less slow and not so gentle. When he emptied inside of me I forgot his order to be still and wrapped around him. I would have thanked him from the bottom of my heart if I could have. He stayed there on me and in me for a nice long time. That's another mistake almost all men make, leaving our bodies long before we want them to. As he pulled me close he said, "You may speak now."

"Are you really going to deny me Sir?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Am I allowed to think bad words?"

I asked in jest but he answered seriously, "Yes you are but it's a bad idea. If you keep thinking it you will say it."

"You have me on a feedback loop Sir. Every time I remember I can't I want to even more."

"That's why it's a punishment Love."

"It's also." I paused looking for a clean word, "Incredibly sexy. I love you Sir."

He lapsed back into what I call Hillbilly Speak, "Nah, you just like my fish."

"With all due respect Sir, your fish is a whale."

He laughed, I love his laugh, it's so open and genuine. "It was a minnow when we met Love, inspiration works wonders."

I didn't believe that for a minute but I loved him for saying it and snuggled even closer. I was about to ask permission get a sleeping pill out of my bag, between the nap and the delicious frustration I didn't think I would be able to sleep, when I heard him tell me that he loves me. For some reason that made my lights go out for 9 hours.

We had gone to sleep very early, something neither of us do when we aren't together, so I woke up early. I checked my email on my phone while he slept then read the news for a little while, keeping an eye on the time. I know his alarm is set for 6:30 so at 6 I took him into my mouth and just held it there warming it for a minute while he woke. Once he had stretched I began pleasuring him. I have named a number of things that men usually get wrong, one that women usually get wrong is rushing oral sex. I took my time worshiping his manhood, I have mentioned that he is endowed. Simply put he is just a bit too long and a good bit too big around. In other words, a god well worthy of worship and I worshiped devoutly. My main desire was to please him but I did harbor a hope that once he was excited he would enter me and end my punishment in glorious fashion. When I heard him say, "Now this is how a day should start." I knew that I was in for an interesting day.

Sir didn't tease me or pick on me during the day, not that he needed to, I had been ready to rape my gearshift since lunch. I got to his house at about 6 and was welcomed with another long intense kissing session. When it was over, I could barely stand and struggled to speak but finally I managed to say, "Sir, I am going to need either sex or strong medication very quickly."

I was expecting a dialog or a tease or at least a command to undress. What I got was, "Okay" followed by two very strong hands spinning me around like a toothpick and bending me at the waist until I had to put my hands on the wall, a skirt yanked up out of the way and a feeling of gratitude that I wasn't wearing panties. Our foreplay consisted of him unhooking his belt and trousers then I was being roughly filled. My body wasn't ready, but it got ready quickly, then I was standing there helpless as he took me. I was ready to orgasm before I left the office and really ready thirty seconds in. My body rode the edge for what seemed like forever but a fear of my knees weakening kept me just on the wrong side of the line. Suddenly two strong arms wrapped around my waist and in a very breathy voice Sir said, "Now Slave." I'm not sure if mine triggered his or his triggered mine. A few minutes later when my brain traveled back up into my scull, I realized that in teasing me he had also been teasing himself.

Sir replaced his clothes and removed mine then led me to the couch. The fact that I was perfectly comfortable being naked and leaky in front of him in a well-lit room is a testament to his ability to make me feel beautiful. We talked about mundane things, work, the weather, my irritating sister, for a good long time, then we fixed dinner together. Until about 10:00 other than my lack of wardrobe we were just like any vanilla couple sharing the evening together. I'm not very comfortable discussing what happened at bedtime, suffice it to say that I got the beating that every submissive dreams of then had to bite Master's mattress to keep the people on the space station from hearing me scream as he took me from behind and gave me an orgasm that felt like it had been building inside me for years.

I can only describe the next morning as being totally unfair. It started simply enough, I woke him with my mouth and enjoyed being denied release as he finished in my body. Next a long slow shower together that was so pleasant that I didn't mind the part where I was stripped of some dignity. Finally he told me to put on jeans, we were going to a football game. That was so unlike him that I asked if he was serious. He looked serious as he said, "Yup, the Seneca Middle School Wildcats versus some other middle school that needs to prepare to be crushed." I didn't entirely buy it but held my peace and comforted myself with the thought that there are worse things to submit to than peewee football. When we were dressed and ready Sir grabbed a backpack that had been drawn on by someone not very good and glittered with a heavy hand.

Sure enough we drove to the middle school and it did have signs advertising a football game but there were only five cars in the parking lot so I knew I was being led down the garden path. When I commented on the lack of cars and crowd he just shrugged, "I'm on the registry so I have to show up early to do all the paperwork to attend." All I could do was shake my head and wonder what this beautiful and slightly insane man was up to. He led me to a classroom and as soon as he stepped through the door a cheer went up. When it had quieted the teacher, who was a truly beautiful tall black woman with a vaguely French sounding accent announced, "That ends the language class but don't forget to do your grammar homework."

Sir stepped in front of the class and asked, "So how's everybody doing?" All the kids seemed to speak at once but for some reason my eyes were drawn to a very thin black girl sitting in the back corner of the room by herself. The answers he got were amazing and confusing as kids shouted with an assortment of accents, "Fit as a fiddle, bad to the bone, better than a three tailed cat" and so on.

I moved as quietly as I could to stand next to the teacher and asked, "What on earth am I seeing?"

She looked me up and down then said, "I have been teaching English as a second language for the past 2 hours. He is now teaching a bi-weekly class called "American Culture" which is a euphemism for how to seem more American. These kids are mostly from foster homes and some of them have had a hard time of it.