tagBDSMSubmissive Love Ch. 03

Submissive Love Ch. 03


I hardly slept that first night Mistress granted me the privilege of sleeping over at her house. It mattered not that I slept on the floor, tethered to her bed frame. I was grateful to her for allowing me the privilege of being in her presence while she slept. I longed to crawl in bed with her, but feared her sending me away if I violated her dictates. It was enough to have the pleasure of hearing her breathe. I imagined she was tired from our session earlier in the evening. I finally drifted to sleep around 3 a.m. When she stirred around 7 a.m. the next morning, I was wide eyed and attentive to whatever she might desire from me.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked sweetly. I waited for permission to answer. "Oh never mind, silly boy," she said. After a few minutes, she brought in two cups, and sat naked on the floor across from me. I was overwhelmed by the sight of her soft, relaxed breasts and her slightly engorged vaginal lips. Surprisingly, there was a slight pout to her expression. Her expression, together with her tussled hair, made her look curiously vulnerable. In the midst of my desperation to please her, to submit to her, and hopefully to be accepted by her, I failed to notice the helplessness she conveyed in her expression. Gazing at her, I had the passing fantasy that she felt terribly alone.

She noticed I was distracted by her nakedness and asked, "What the matter Ian? Are you captivated by pussy?"

I remained silent.

"You may answer. In fact, because you've been so wonderful, you may answer my questions without needing to wait for permission. You've served me well thus far and you deserve the privilege," she explained.

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes Mistress, I not only worship your genitals, but frankly, I'm very taken by all of you. Not just by your pussy, but by all of what you've allowed me to experience with you so far. I'm taken by all you have to offer: your compassion, your directness, the firm hand by which you treat me. Being with you makes me crave to submit fully and completely," I explained.

"You're sweet to say that, Ian," she said nervously giggling. She bashfully responded as she sipped her coffee, "In many ways, I'm just a regular girl who works hard, spends too many nights alone, and keeps searching for what I know I need in the relationship department."

I was astonished by the soft, almost desperate way she was relating to me this morning. I thought perhaps she was not fully awake. She was apparently unaware of how she was coming across. I grew accustomed to her expressions of anger and irritation with me. True, she winked at me when I brought her lunch last week, but her show of pleasure seemed more for the display of the her co-workers and not necessarily for me. What she was showing me this morning was completely new.

"What shall we do on this glorious Saturday morning?" she queried.

"Whatever you want Mistress. I'm yours for the day," I explained.

Mistress seemed lost in thought as she pondered what to do with me. "I usually go to the Farmers Market on Saturday mornings. I'd like it if you came with me to get fresh fruits and veggies."

I responded gleefully, "I would like that!"

Mistress confessed, "I really like you Ian, but frankly, I've been misled in the past by self proclaimed submissive men who think they're ready to be in a relationship with me, only to discover that once I let them into my heart, they're fakes. They turn out to be men who are just in it for the kick of serving a woman once or twice but not serious about trusting me enough to really submit in the way that I need. I need a man who understands why I treat them the way I do; a man who understands the dynamics of this kind of relationship. I want to be as enslaved to him as I make him enslaved to me. When I force my will on him, he has to understand that I am captivated by his willingness to submit to me. Your submission brings me closer to you. When I fuck you hard, it's because I want you to fuck me harder. When I swat the shit out of you, it's because I want you to love me. Not many men understand that about me. I need that so much but it's very hard to find."

Mistress paused for a moment. Her eyes glazed over. She seemed confused and angry, as if she said more than she wanted to about her emotional life. Suddenly, she grabbed her hair in frustration and slammed her fist to the floor. She cried out, "Why the fuck am I telling you this? Shit...!" She grabbed the coffee cup out of my hand and stormed out of the room, leaving me on the floor, tethered and confused.

I heard the rattling of dishes in the kitchen. She turned on the television. I heard gunshots and cursing, apparently from yet another action movie she decided to watch. I imagined she was calming her nerves. I sat for nearly 90 minutes, still tethered to her bed. Eventually I lay back down, pulling the comforter over me and curling up in a fetal position to keep warm.

When she came back to the bedroom, she untied me from the bed frame. Her expression was cold as ice. "Get the fuck out of my house your little bitch!" she demanded.

My mouth dropped in shock and disappointment. There was no way I could hide the flood of rejection and despair. Despite the tears welling up, I stayed focused on what I knew I ultimately wanted, and said nothing. I quickly reviewed how vulnerable she made herself earlier this morning. I assumed she was overwhelmed with her feelings for me and needed her space. I gathered my things and headed for the door. I hoped she'd have some parting words for me, but none were forthcoming. I wanted to slam the fucking door in a fit of rage, but thought better of it. I just left.

A week went by without as much as a phone call from Mistress. I took a few days off from work because of my profound sadness. I came so close to something I've wanted for years. Despite my rage, I couldn't even convince myself that she wasn't the right woman for me. I tried comparing her to my abusive ex-wife, but in the end, I kept coming back to failing to understand how she could reject me after giving myself completely to her. I, of course, blamed myself. I thought, "I'm getting too fucking old. She realized I'm just a pathetic aging submissive little pussy. I hate myself. If I had the guts, I would hurt myself."

I also had plenty of time to think about what happened on that fateful Friday evening and Saturday morning. I realized the problem was that she needed to maintain her dominant role. I somehow broke through her defenses and seduced her more vulnerable side. It just pissed her off and led to my rejection. I decided if she ever called again, I would be such a "bad boy" that she would have no choice but to abuse the shit out of me. In my mind, it would be the only way to get her back into my life.

Two weeks passed and I was going out of my mind. Morbidly depressed and horribly lonely, I decided the time had come to take action. I pondered how to provoke her into bringing me back into her life. I decided to make an appointment at the hair salon where she works, but schedule an appointment with another hair stylist. I needed to see her, and imagined that when she saw me, she would remember the importance of our connection.

I called the Salon and asked if Rhonda was working and what times she had available. They told me that she had a 6:30 p.m. open, which informed me that she was working that evening. I asked the receptionist if anyone else had openings at that time. Much to my relief, Jill happened to have a cancellation at that time. "Perfect!" I thought. I scheduled with Jill for 6:30.

When I walked into the salon, I saw Mistress sweeping hair off the floor from her previous appointment. Walking back with Jill, I made eye contact with Mistress. I could see the look of surprise in her eyes. She turned away to ignore me. Mistress had someone book her 6:30 slot, so she was stuck having to cut hair while I sat two stations down. I was friendly and as flirtatious as possible with Jill. I spoke in a loud voice, telling her how much I loved her hair, and how talented she was at giving scalp massages. When Jill and I were done, I turned away from Rhonda and walked off, not even giving her the satisfaction of a look in her direction. I happened to glance at a mirror on my way back to the cashier's station. I saw Rhonda staring at me as if she was burning a hole in my ass. Mission accomplished.

I fully expected a call from Mistress, but much to my disappointment, my phone was deadly silent. I finally crashed about midnight only to be woken up at about 12:30 a.m. by the lyrics of Maxi Priest's "Close to you." I stupidly gave Mistress her own ring tone on my phone. For the last few weeks I felt foolish for doing so. I gathered myself quickly and responded, "Yes Mistress?"

"You fucking asshole!" she shouted. "How dare you come into the shop and put on that display. You let that whore touch my work! You little fucking pathetic prick! Get the fuck over here right now. I'm gonna fuck you up bitch." The line went dead.

I dressed quickly and drove to her house. Reflecting on her phone call, I realized she sounded very angry and a little drunk. When I arrived, there was a note on the door. It read, "You are the biggest, most pathetic asshole I have ever met!"

When I opened the door, Mistress was waiting in the living room. I closed the door and waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs for instructions. She was finishing her drink and watching yet another action movie. I guess action movies gave her an outlet for her aggression. Anyway, she kept me standing there with my head bowed for an hour. Finally, she got up and came to the entryway. She looked beautiful. Her hair was deliberately tussled and had good height to it. She was bare breasted and wearing stunning black knee high boots with crotch-less black pantyhose.

"I hate your hair cut. I can't believe you let that little cunt touch you," Mistress said with a bitterness that was frankly frightening. I wanted to run out of the house, but was desperate to maintain a connection with this woman. I needed her.

"Come up here, take off your clothes, and go into the kitchen. There you'll find a pair of nipple clamps. You will clamp them on your nipples. Then come kneel in front of me while I watch my movie and have another drink."

I apprehensively did as I was told. I felt a little silly pinching myself with the nipple clamps but at that point, I was willing to do anything to remain in her life. The clamps certainly stung as I attached them. The sharp pain was overtaken by a numbness that made it tolerable. I knelt down in front of her and dared not stare at her beautiful pussy that was now prominently displayed in from of me. She reached under the couch cushion, pulled out a leather strap and bound my hands behind me.

She explained sternly, "Ian, you disappoint me. I would've never thought you had the nerve to come to the shop like that. You let her touch the hair I worked so hard to craft for you."

Her anger seemed to slowly soften as I knelt in front of her restrained, in pain, and at her mercy. While smoking a cigarette, she reflected, "I thought a lot about you during our time apart. You scare me. As much as I like you, you seem to understand me too well."

She paused for a moment, "The closeness scares me. I ran. But now, here you are. In your own pathetic way, you came back after me."

"Yes Mistress," I replied cautiously.

"That was sweet of you. Now..., I'm going to watch this movie and have another drink. You lay your head on the couch right in front of my crotch. If you touch my pussy, you will be going home. Got it?"

"Yes Mistress," I cautiously responded.

When she returned with her drink, she positioned herself in front of me, propping her right leg on the arm of the couch, settling into watching the movie and sipping her Amaretto on the rocks. I lay my head on the couch cushion like a puppy dog. Her vibrant pussy was right in front of my face. I examined the folds of her gorgeous cunt and inhaled her sweet scent. For nearly an hour, she sat there, occasionally running her hand along her slit to spread her vaginal lips in from of my eyes. When she spread her lips for me, I could see the moisture glistening deep inside her vagina. It gathered like a sticky pool of dew. I so wanted to lap it up. By now, my nipples were immune to the pinching of the clamps. I felt a tremendous ache coming from my cock. It was enormously frustrating to be so excited by the sight of her but not be able to touch her or myself. I felt the moisture building on the surface of my cock. I was over stimulated but could do nothing about it.

When the movie was finally over, she turned off the television and reclined to play with her pussy. I watched as she gently rubbed her outer lips, running slow circles around her growing clitoris. She pulled its little hood back to expose her wanting gland. In time, she began fingering herself more deliberately and in short order I could hear her sigh deeply and moan with pleasure. Her pussy was now extremely wet. As she climaxed, she pulled her hand away so as to torment me with the pulsing of her sweet inner flesh. She remained motionless after her orgasm, treating me to the sight of her spent pussy. Her lips dangled to one side and were slightly spread as she rubbed her breasts in the afterglow of what seemed like a very nice orgasm.

"Lick up my juices," she demanded as she rubbed and licked her own nipple.

I slowly stuck out my tongue and licked up her slit like I was licking my favorite flavor of ice cream. With long, slow licks, I lapped up the sweet aftermath of her pleasuring herself. When I was done licking her clean, she helped me off my knees and escorted me to the bedroom. My legs were a little wobbly from kneeling for so long. She removed the clamps from my slightly bruised nipples, undid my ties, and told me to get her restraints from the closet.

When I approached her with restraints in hand, I was surprised to see her pouting and in obvious emotional pain. She slowly whispered, "Restrain me to the bed, Ian."

I was surprised at this little twist of fate but complied nonetheless. I restrained her arms above her head and secured each foot to the footboard. She was spread eagle, face up, and completely vulnerable.

I stood silently waiting for her directions.

She hesitantly and desperately called my name, "Ian...,"

"Yes Mistress...," I replied. I saw tears making their way down her cheeks.

"Will you please make love to me?" she whispered weakly.

I was shocked by her willingness to make herself so vulnerable. I recognized at that moment how much she really cared for me. She obviously struggles with closeness and trust, but here she was giving herself completely to me, offering her body for my pleasure. I wanted desperately to tell her that I love her but was afraid of scaring her off. Her heart is obviously tender and very timid.

"Yes mistress," said in response to her request.

I knelt beside her, kissing her puckered nipples, biting them gently. I traced my tongue along her belly and gently licked her pussy. With my mouth moistened from her sweetness, I reached up to kiss her deeply. Her mouth opened softly to my lips. She whimpered. Tears rolled down her cheeks as we kissed passionately. Seamlessly, I positioned myself on top of her, slipping my aching cock inside of her.

'Oh," she breathlessly panted.

Each thrust of mine was followed by a gently moan from her. She threw her head back in response to the pleasure of being filled completely by me. I could feel my tension mounting. I reached down to caress her ass, pulling her closer to me. Her ass was moist from the dripping of her vaginal secretions. I slipped a finger in her ass as I released into her.

'Oh my god," she exclaimed as she quivered simultaneously with me. I held her tight as our bodies contracted in mutual pleasure. I lay motionless on top of her, spent and in awe of what just happened.

"Undo my ties baby," she requested.

I loosened her hands and feet, and waited for my instructions. She asked that I lay on my side, next to her. I did as I was told. Mistress Rhonda pulled the comforter over us, and positioned herself so that she was spooning with me. She curled her knees behind mine, gently rubbed my sore nipple and pressed herself against me.

"Good night Ian, I love you," she whispered.

I remained silent, for fear of scaring her off. I'm a fast learner. Drifting off to sleep, I was happy. I knew in my heart that we would take good care of each other for a long time to come.

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