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My first domination fantasy -- yup, the man is boss!
My first domination fantasy -- yup, the man is boss!
I have a correspondence with a young woman who I find so yummy... looking at her profile I saw some stuff about handcuffs, spanking and the like. I am amazed at how many women are into this! Maybe men too, but guys I don't read your profiles at much...'cept when I'm scoping the competition.
I don't think of myself as particularly into that kind of thing, but I wrote the following to turn her on. And surprise! As I was writing, I got a raging hardon and eventually had to relieve myself... incredible...
So, what's the appeal of domination? I dunno, you tell me. I can get inside my characters' heads but not in my own at this point. In the fantasy AS WRITTEN, the dominator is (duh) the one in control, right? But in the real world, the shrinks say, the submissive is really driving. I THINK that makes sense to me... after all, the submissive can turn the dominant on or off like a switch by acting "beaten" or "uppity"... go read Frederick Douglass' autobiography if you want a look into the head of a real-life slave...
Anyway, here's my little opus... then she tells me she's not really that into it... oh well hon... you sure woke something up in me...
The samurai is home from the battle. Tired and bloodstained, he strips his torn battle-garments and slips into the hot bath. The geisha comes to stoke the fire; she gives him a shy smile. His interest is piqued.
After the soak he steps out of the bath. She holds his robe out to him, eyes averted. He takes it from her, drops it to the ground and steps forward. She turns to him, then gasps as she sees him still naked. He strides forward quickly and holds her to his body, tightly. Something is pressing against her... down there?
She feels a mixture of terror and fascination; like a young deer fearing a tiger, she is rooted, immobile, unable to move -- but her heart is racing and she feels a slickness between her legs, where his manhood presses against her. What to do?
He releases her body and places his hands alongside her perfect face. He comes closer and kisses her gently. She is dizzy, she cannot breathe. Her mouth opens and she is shocked to find his tongue probing inside, thrusting, mimicking the timeless rhythm her nether parts ache for.
He grasps her hair with two hands and pulls downward. What does he want? She moves as the hands direct and kneels before him. One hand cups under her chin, directing her gaze forward, away from the floor. His cock is before her eyes; it beats slowly, firmly, back and forth with his pulse. It moves towards her and the tip, glistening with pre-cum, presses against her mouth. She looks up at his face; he smiles sternly and beckons her to open.
Her fear increases; she has not done this before! This was not part of her training. How can she please him thus? She looks up at him, imploring with her eyes, mouth closed.
The man is displeased and impatient. He did not return from defending the kingdom to be thus treated. Who is this young know-nothing? Perhaps she requires training. Fast as a cat she is lifted from the ground, turned and forced onto her stomach on the bed. He has taken the belt off his robe; her wrists are tied firmly to the bedposts. She feels the metal of his sword between her back and her clothing. A single upward tug, a cutting sound, a contemptuous toss, and she is naked, crouching before him on all fours.
"Do you know nothing?" he asks. "You WILL give me my right!" He is standing behind her at the edge of the bed. His hand is on her ass, a thumb probes her wet entrance. She gasps as her back arches involuntarily towards the waiting hand. It flattens and withdraws. He steps forward and she feels something else, something larger, poised to know her. Again, against her will, she pushes back against it; the tip slips downward against her clitoris, then slides up and down, up and down, parting her cunt lips.
"Do you want me?" he demands imperiously. She groans but does not answer; a geisha's training is to be meek and silent. He laughs; the hand is on her ass again, pushing her down onto her stomach. "If you move, it will be the worse for you. Be grateful it is my hand and not the flat of my sword." What is he saying? Does he mean to punish her?
SLAP! Her bottom feels the sting of his hand and SLAP! SLAP! again and again it comes down, merciless, hard but controlled. He is enjoying himself! The sensation spreads with the redness, across her entire backside. The blood rushes to the surface of the skin. Her cheeks are suffused and flush as well. He has not struck her face -- but it burns with the shame of her ignorance. A tear squeezes from between her tightly shut eyes as pain and shame mingle with -- what, even now, a tingle in her groin? Slut! Fool! You have failed him, he is chastising you, you will not be his today. But please, let him take me... she begins to sob as the spanking abates. She looks back and is shocked to see that even as she shut her eyes and her mind, her legs have spread, her ass is raised, her cunt implores him to favor her. Does she have no control over her body?
...And then she feels the strangest sensation. He is lifting her legs from behind, her legs are placed on his shoulders, her thighs down his back. She sinks onto her elbows and looks back; his mouth is between her legs. His tongue lovingly, gently rolls her clitoris in slow circles. She is leaking fluid now, it runs down his chin. His nose penetrates her as he licks. It probes against her perineum and touches the edge of her forbidden quarter. She is shocked at the pleasure she feels -- has she no shame at all?
Then all thought is lost as he reaches under and rolls her nipples under hungry, experienced fingers. He is grunting like an animal, wetly slurping his meal of inflamed womanflesh. She is out of her mind, only knowing the pleasure spreading from her clitoris to engulf her loins...
To be continued.