The Man Tamer

"Why am I here?"

"You're here because I wanted you to be here," she said without skipping a beat.

"Why did you want me here?"

"I have my reasons," she said, showing a toothy smile. "Why, does it bother you not knowing?"

"I just don't like being toyed with."

She leaned forward and became serious. "What have I told you about that?"

"I know. It's not that kind of game. You're not toying with me. I just don't understand is all."

"Don't understand?"

"Well," he started. "Don't you think you've won already?"

Becca kissed him slowly and passionately, then sat back with an almost emotionless expression.

"You'll know when I've won. Don't lose heart yet. What's your answer?"

"I'll stick around."

She sent him to the kitchen to fix her a drink. When he brought it over, she had him lie down with his head in her lap. Then she picked up her book again and continued to read. Every few minutes, she would stroke his hair, scratch the back of his neck. Though he began to feel drowsy after some time, he couldn't help staying awake. Something was happening and he didn't quite understand what it was, but somehow he recognized it was no ordinary thing.

In another hour, he had to dress and go to work, and words could hardly describe the regret he'd feel for the rest of the day about having to leave.

-

Had it already been a month? Tom couldn't believe the time it had taken to get here. He flashed back to the first days of meeting Becca after the divorce. He grinned at the memory of beating off to her in his fantasies. When she was around, he found himself talking in a lower voice, putting his chest out a bit, and playing it like he was a suave, rugged sort of man's man. It was an act he never really questioned, but something about Becca's little theory on games did make him think. Was this how he was playing the game? Was it working for him?

This would be an important evening, she had explained to him when inviting him over. He needed to come mentally prepared. It wasn't entirely clear what that meant, but he expected they were going to fuck. Finally.

The second he entered the door, she was ready and waiting. She was wearing black yoga pants, a black tank top, and black boots - a tad out of the ordinary for her, though not unusual enough to make him suspicious. She motioned for him to be seated in a chair by the living room, but she remained standing.

"I have some things to say," she informed him. "At the end of it, you'll have a choice to make. Your choice will be simple. Yes or no. But it's imperative that you pay attention to what I'm going to say and make the decision that's right for you. Do you understand?"

Suddenly his mind was aflame with curiosity and an inexplicable fear. This didn't sound like sex. Was there a problem? Had he done something wrong?

"Yeah," he answered, partly in a daze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Good," she said. "It is time you know why you're here, and where I want things to go."

His countenance changed at this. The curiosity started to win out over his fear.

"I think you have some general idea about me," she went on. "But I want to hear it from you. Think for a second. Then tell me what you know about me."

"You're friendly," he started. "Sweet. Caring. Smart."

This made her smile a bit. Something about it didn't feel quite right, though. He could tell it wasn't quite what she was asking for. She said to think about it, he told himself. Then he noticed her posture.

She was standing before him, not casually or flirtatiously. It was almost imposing. Her hands were folded in front of her lap. Her eyes were fixated on him, taking in the tiniest movements and reactions. Oh, he realized, this is what she means.

"You're competitive," he said with a change in his tone. "You like to... call the shots. You're no nonsense. You don't like to lose."

Her face lit up more and more as he ran through this description. It made him want to keep going, to get to that last piece he wasn't quite landing on. What else was there? He stumbled around inside his mind, searching anxiously for it, until it broke through in all its simplicity.

"You don't lose."

It would hardly do it justice to say the look on her face at this little insight was one of sheer surprise. She was practically shocked that he made that connection. However, he saw her expression and couldn't help feeling a mix of wonder, excitement, and even more fear than before. Because it wasn't surprise alone, it was a look that made the conclusion inescapable. It said: you can't win.

Or rather, it was saying, you can't win me. But Tom hadn't made it that far yet. He was hung up on things that needed to go, obstacles that had to be moved out of the way first.

"Don't worry," she broke in, "I'm not asking you to be something you're not. I'm only asking you to stop pretending to be something you're not. To be better."

"What do you mean?" he spoke up.

"Tom," she said with a mild look of disappointment. "I think you know what I mean. Do I have to spell it out?"

He hesitated and stared off in the distance.

"Okay, have it your way," she continued. "I'm interested in you, that much should be apparent. But you have work to do. You remember agreeing that you have changes to make? Or when you told me you don't think you can make those changes on your own?"

"Yes."

"Well," she said with a pause. "I believe I can help. I believe I have been helping some already. I'm not going to do it for you, but I think you'd benefit a lot from my help. From my guidance. And my control."

"Your control?" he repeated.

"Yes, Tom. This is your choice. See what person you can be with me, or continue going your own way. You know me as Becca... but I'd prefer you to know me as Mistress Rebecca."

"Oh," he let out unexpectedly. "You're..."

"Yes," she said calmly. "I am. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes. So I should call you... Mistress Rebecca?"

"If your choice is yes."

"What if I... you know... what if I wanted to dominate you instead?"

"Let me be clear," she stated firmly. "I don't submit. I've told you I don't like to lose, but what you said is true. I don't lose. Period. And if you try to swing things the other way, that will be the end."

"Wow," he said. "I just thought..."

"Uh huh. I know what you think. You think you're a tough guy. The alpha male of the block, God's gift to womankind. You're none of those things to me. That's why I'm making sure this is absolutely crystal clear to you. So you know what you're getting into."

He sat there and considered her for a moment, feeling like no one had ever been this honest with him before. In a way, he couldn't believe her audacity. She was challenging him, and he was used to feeling challenged. But he had never met someone who saw through him so easily or was so confident in coming out on top.

"What do you want to do to me?" the question slipped out from his lips.

"What I've already been doing with you," she said, leaning forward in front of him and touching his face gently, "Teaching you to behave."

Tom's mouth opened, but nothing came out. She looked into his eyes and saw a longing shining there that needed no words. Becca walked over to the couch and grabbed two things he couldn't quite make out.

"This is a riding crop," she explained, holding it out towards him. "I use it smack boys into shape. And this other thing is a collar. A shock collar, actually."

She grinned at the sight of his jaw dropping open now. His eyes moved over the objects in her hands, then to her.

"The voltage isn't too high," she teased. "And then, who knows? If you're good, later I might allow you upstairs with me."

"No wonder you don't lose," he joked.

"I told you, I don't lose because I know what I'm doing. It pleases me to tame men like you, and Tom..."

With her pause, she could see she had his full attention now.

"...I've never met a man I couldn't tame."

She let her words fall on him with an intense lock onto his eyes. He felt his pride, ego, and his own competitive side rise up internally. It dawned on him that she was very aware of what she was doing, that the challenge to him wasn't all in his head. Without being explicit about it, she was taunting, teasing, and tempting him. See if you're man enough, it felt like she was saying.

"My choice is yes," he said.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mistress Rebecca."

"Then strip," she ordered. "To your bare ass, and get on all fours."

Shortly after he did this, the collar clasped shut around his neck. She gave him a quick swat on the behind with her crop, then went over and sat in a nice cushioned chair. As she wagged her finger to get him to come over, he started to get up.

ZAP.

Immediately he dropped back onto his hands and knees. His eyes were wide now and his breathing was loud enough to hear.

"Crawl," she commanded.

Looking humiliated, he crawled swiftly to her.

"Lick my boots."

He hesitated and she zapped him again.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

"You like to learn the hard way, don't you?" she laughed. "If you have to tap out, just use your safe word."

Collecting himself, he bent his head down and kissed the toe of her boot, before kissing other places on the surrounding area.

ZAP.

He jumped a little and growled.

"Don't you growl at me, unless you want the crop, too. I said lick, not kiss."

He stuck his tongue out and began licking. Thankfully, her boots were shiny clean as they were. They looked brand new, almost as if she'd bought them specially for this occasion. The taste was unpleasant, but not terrible.

"Faster," she spoke in a strict tone. "I don't want to see that tongue stop licking long enough to go back in your mouth."

As he sped things up, he felt the end of her riding crop glide down his back and over his bare ass cheeks. It went back and forth between each cheek. He started licking quicker and quicker, until the end of the crop pressed in right on his anus and he let out a little yelp. She pressed his head back to her boots, making sure he continued.

"This is the only place you'd be allowed with me," she said confidently from above. "At my feet."

Some time later, she told him he could stop. Next he was to crawl upstairs. She walked behind him, whacking his ass with the crop as he went. One whack meant to go faster. Another meant to get up the stairs. Another meant to climb faster. Yet another meant to turn. Then turn again. Then one last turn. And finally one meant for him to halt.

Now they were in the bedroom. She gave him permission to stand up and he stood facing the side of the bed. Without warning, he felt her hands touch his bare skin, inspecting the marks she'd left on his butt. This rapidly turned into squeezing each cheek, pulling them apart, and running her finger down the crack of his ass. He shook and pulled away nervously.

"I wasn't DONE," she shouted, and shoved him over the bed so he was forced to put his hands out to stabilized himself.

Then she grabbed each cheek again, forced them apart, and continued playing with him. Her strong, feminine hands made him feel like putty. He made soft gasping and grunting noises as she felt him up, between his thighs, over his balls, and all the way to his hole. A finger gently pushed in.

"Shhh," she said soothingly. "Don't be a baby. I love fondling a man's ass. Especially when he has such a finely sculpted one."

Nevertheless, he kept resisting and moving. So she finally gave him another zap on the collar. With the shock, he opened up and in went Becca's finger.

"Someone's quite sensitive to having his ass played with, hmmm? Even by a woman? We'll have to break this insecurity before long."

She let go and ordered him to get on the bed on his back. From each corner, she took a strap and tied each one around his wrists and ankles. Telling him to try and struggle, she watched with glee as the straps held tight. Walking over to the side of the bed, she pulled out a mask and put it over his eyes. Then came something else Tom couldn't make out until it went into his mouth and was secured around the back of his head. He was tied down, blindfolded, and gagged.

He heard the sound of her boots coming off. What seemed to be the sound of her shirt being taken off. Then the slow and ear-tantalizing noise of her pants coming off. The bra and underwear wasn't that possible to hear, but he imagined those must be next.

"What a shame," she told him. "I work so hard for this body. You probably know that from how often I've caught you looking at it. Picturing what I'd look like naked. It's quite a sight, I can tell you that. It's too bad you don't get to see it yet. You'll have to imagine it in your head a little longer, while you're jerking off to me."

Becca climbed on the bed, carefully positioning herself on top of him. He could feel her bare legs touch his, her ass rest comfortably on his thighs. She could see him getting stiff. She put her hands around his waist and brought them up his hips and around the sides of his chest. A muffled moan came out from behind the ball gag.

Quietly, she bent down and kissed him on the hips, just below the belly button, and across his bare chest. He was getting very hard now. She took him in her right hand. The way she grabbed him and touched him felt incredibly intimate. But at the same time it felt like she was handling him like he was nothing. A human dildo.

She stroked him and his breathing got heavier. His back began to arch on the bed.

"Yes," she whispered. "It's a real shame you can't see me. You'll just have to imagine my tits bouncing. My ass going up and down. My hands having their way with you. And the look on my face as I make you useful. You won't know what kind of fuck I think you are. Though maybe if you're lucky... I'll let you hear some of it."

Now he was rock hard in her hand. She licked her teeth and smiled wide, raising her body up and preparing to come down on him. She had wondered if they'd ever make it this far. It was something she'd been looking forward to for some while. Of course, she'd never let on, and she knew he wouldn't be getting a shot unless he was manageable.

As she lowered herself onto his cock, she felt like she'd succeeded. Well, almost. Things were exactly where she wanted them for now, but it wasn't a complete success yet. He was tamer than when they started, that was true. And soon, she'd have him perfectly disciplined. Perfectly tamed.

Becca threw her hand over her mouth as she slid all the way down. It was all she could do to stop from giving away the game this early. That day in the woods, she watched him pee and saw his size for the first time. It pleased her. If she hadn't had self-control, she thought she might have tackled him then and there. But waiting to get things right had been far more worth it.

Tom groaned from beneath her. The sounds he made and his total lack of control were pitiful, but she loved it. For a couple minutes, she kept riding him silently. She soon realized he might be so loud he wouldn't even hear her if she did make a sound.

"Someone likes Mistress Rebecca's pussy, does he?"

A long, sustained moan came out of him. She teased his chest with her fingers.

"There are rewards for good behavior," she said. "And there is punishment for bad behavior. But I prefer to teach discipline. A disciplined man should have an easy choice."

She angled herself comfortably and picked up the pace. Now he was becoming louder, arching more, and tugging on the straps. The faster she went, the more he'd convulse under her. The binding holding him down still held, but not as convincingly now. The last thing she wanted was to let him break free. So the next time his arms jerked...

ZAP.

This upped his adrenaline and made him fight back more. She attempted to calm him, but he was struggling too much.

ZAP.

He growled from behind the ball gag, sticking his head forward, and tugging at the restraints. Becca shoved his head back against the pillow, wrapping her long fingers around his face. Then with her left hand, she grabbed him by the nipple and pinched. He grunted and shook, but sank back into the bed.

"If you break my nice restraints," she scolded him, "I'm kicking your ass to the curb. You won't even get your clothes back."

She slowed down a bit, but kept riding him, waiting to see his reaction. After a minute, she felt him shake under her. This time, though, the shaking was due to laughter, which soon spilled over for her to hear. She couldn't stop herself and chuckled a little in turn.

"Okay," she said once the mood had changed. "Focus. Stay put. I'm still waiting to come."

Tom went quiet and relaxed. She leaned forward and nibbled at his neck. It surprised her how he stiffened at this, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. His head moved to look in the direction of the sound.

In a split second, she switched gears and thrust herself on him without a care. His breathing became increasingly intense, and she allowed hers to get louder with his. Then she reached behind his head and undid the gag, tossing it off the bed. There he was, she thought. Those lovely grunts, stuttering gasps, and all the rest of it - clear as a bell.

Now she rode him to drain him, not to tease or teach him. Her voice stuttered, she groaned and made happy sounds. When she was getting close, she let him know. She wanted him to come with her. As it built up inside of her, she reached for his throat with both hands, and growled a simple question to him.

"What's my fucking name?"

"Mistress Rebecca," he answered loudly as the two of them came.

All Tom could think about in the moment was that she sounded pleased, genuinely pleased with him. He clenched his jaw and fought back the flood of emotions. Becca's hands wrapped around his face as she kissed his cheek. Her body moved against his, slowly pulling up from his cock as a gasp stumbled out of him. It was a last little reminder that she was not his, and he was all hers.

"D-don't go," Tom suddenly blurted out.

Quickly, she was off his cock. He shook and his cheeks turned bright red. In another second, the blindfold was pulled off his face, allowing him to gaze into his Mistress' eyes above. She seemed to be confirming that she saw him, that there would be no holding back.

As tears trickled down his cheeks and his jaw quivered, she calmly untied the restraints from his hands and ankles. Next, she pushed him onto his side and curled up behind him. For whatever reason, this position felt vulnerable; it made him want to be held. Becca put her arms around him and held him close.

"I'm not going anywhere," she spoke softly, touching his collar with her fingers. "And neither are you."