A sub’s irresistible desire to submit is matched and surpassed by a domme’s deep desire to control.

“I don’t usually eavesdrop,” the man said, interrupting my conversation with my best friend Kristi, “but I couldn’t help myself.”

I looked at him, not startled, not surprised, but annoyed. He had dark curly hair that kept falling forward into his deep blue eyes. He was wearing a black shirt and a mildly rumpled blazer with indigo jeans. Nice build, I recognized. Handsome, in a slightly disheveled way. I’d been noticing him inching his chair closer to us in the café. But the place was cramped as usual, and there was no way for us to move further without backing out a window.

“Do you usually interrupt other people’s conversations?” Kristi asked sharply, looking at him as if he were a bug. She seemed incensed by the fact that he’d pulled up his chair at the tiny round table. I tilted my head down and looked at him over my red-framed glasses. He took my motion for permission to continue because he said to Kristi, “Could we have the table for a moment?”

My friend’s mouth opened in utter shock. She looked as if she were going to say, “Well, I never!” like they did in movies made about seventy years ago. I shrugged at her, and she stalked over to the register and began to peruse the selections on the chalkboard above the wine bar.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” the man said, “what you were saying to your friend.”

“Yes,” I repeated. I was actually beginning to enjoy myself. He was cute enough, in that befuddled professor sort of way. And what I’d been telling Kristi had been a conversation worth eavesdropping on. That is, for someone interested in kink, discipline, and femme-domme relations.

“Ma’am?” he said, and he looked so pitiful and hungry, I could have spread him out on the table right then and punished him in the most pleasurable way — pleasurable for the both of us. “My name is James, and I ever so humbly request that you please let me take you out tonight. Anywhere you’d like to go. Anyplace you say.”

I smiled, and I reached into my purse for my card. “No,” I told him. “You can’t.” He looked crestfallen. “But you can call me tonight at 6 p.m. sharp, and I’ll tell you where to meet me. If you behave exactly as I demand, you might find yourself in the same unfortunate situation as my date did last weekend.”

James was shaking as he slid my card into his leather wallet, and then he walked over to where Kristi was still standing, handed something to the cashier and left. Kristi came back over to me, holding two glasses of red wine. “What the fuck was that about?” she asked. “He bought us each a glass of their best wine.”

I took mine from her hand and savored the first sip. “He was intrigued,” I told her. “By my story.”

“As any sub would be,” she said with a smile. Kristi loves my tawdry sex tales. Although she doesn’t dominate men the way I do, she has a dirty streak in her. She adores hearing about my exploits, as apparently the stranger did.

Before the man had interrupted us, I’d been in the middle of telling Kristi about a recent date. I’d brought a fellow home after a party, tied him to my bed, punished him with a suede flogger, and then when he was humping the mattress, unable to stop himself, I’d untied him and given him a choice. He could leave without release, or he could wear a butt plug while he fucked me. That was the point in the story that we’d reached. Kristi asked me to continue, and in between sips of the expensive wine, I told her the rest of the story.

“George had never worn a plug before.”

“So what did he do?”

“What do you think?”

She laughed. “You’re a hard woman to say no to.”

“Yes, especially when I’m holding a crop.” I told her that George had agreed to my stipulation, but he had balked when I’d insisted he hold his asscheeks open for me. That had led us to a fresh spanking with him over my lap, and then a blistering turn with my favorite glossy wooden paddle before he finally succumbed. He bent over my mattress, parted his rear cheeks and gasped at the sensation of the cold lube meeting his tender asshole. Then he’d moaned when I’d slid the head of the butt plug inside his tight backdoor.

Sex for me had been incredible. Sex for George had been life-changing.

“So are you going to see him again?” Kristi wanted to know.

I shook my head. “He was so inspired by our night together, that he’s become house slave at one of the clubs. You know me. I’m looking for monogamy. The right man. I’ll know him when he comes along.”

I was a little sorry that James had left before I’d gotten to the climax of the tale. But I was secure in the knowledge that he would call that evening. The urges had been emanating off him in waves.

He didn’t let me down. At precisely six o’clock, the phone rang. I worked to keep my voice steady as I picked up the receiver. I had an insane desire to giggle, because I’d so easily nailed this man. He was supplicating even on the phone. I could almost hear him on his knees. Quickly, I gave him directions to my house. Then I prepared my room for him and waited.

The doorbell rang twenty minutes later. There stood James on the front step, holding a bouquet of roses — scarlet and white mixed together. The flowers were beautiful, and I appreciated the fact that he hadn’t arrived empty-handed. I wondered who he’d served before me. His prior domme seemed to have given him good lessons. That is, in everything but eavesdropping.

“So you like to listen in on ladies’ conversations,” I said when I allowed James to enter the foyer.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. I pushed him to his knees and then shut the door. “No, you’re not.”

He gazed up at me with his big blue eyes, and he looked so damn cute I had to work to keep the smile off my lips. This was not the time to let him know he was amusing me, not the time to reveal how much I’d been looking forward to our meeting ever since I’d handed him my card earlier in the day. “But you will be,” I said, and I fastened a collar around his neck and connected a leash to it. He didn’t balk. If anything, he appeared elated. Good. Some men get squirrelly when you collar them. I’ve had my share of love slaves who despise wearing a leather band with a buckle. Not this man. He followed me happily on hands and knees to my bedroom. When I opened the door, he didn’t enter. He waited for me to permit him to cross the threshold, which won him more points in my world. He had been trained before. I was sure of it.

Then he sat on his haunches and looked around.

My room is done in a style I like to think of as “early dungeon.” The walls are covered with black-flocked paper featuring fleur-de-lis designs. The floor is also black, a high-gloss enamel that I keep polished to a sweet sheen. The bed is in the center of the room, a big, old-fashioned canopy with four sturdy posts. I bought the frame at an antique store years ago, and since then I’ve made my own adjustments. Draped over the top is a gossamer fabric in midnight, complete with silver-star appliqués. If my bed is decked out to be a night sky, then my lovers become constellations, pinned down to the black satin mattress, held in place by cold chrome hardware.

As if unable to stop himself, he said, “Wow.”

I looked down at him.

“I mean,” he stammered, “I mean, holy fuck.”

Although his manners had escaped him, I’ll admit I was pleased with his reaction. My room is striking if nothing else. While he sat there, eyes wide, I moved across the room in my high-heeled boots, and I opened the large wooden wardrobe. I’d discovered this piece of furniture at a flea market and had stripped off the shabby-chic white paint before coating the whole imposing piece in blood red. I’d added drawer pulls of ruby glass. When I opened the two doors, I heard James sigh behind me. Inside what was basically a stand-alone closet resided my collection of BDSM sex toys. A weaker-willed man might have fled or begged for mercy before we’d even begun. My new sub friend didn’t move from his spot. I wondered what he would think when I allowed him around the bed to see what waited on the other side. But we weren’t there yet. Right now, we were still at the very beginning.

This was foreplay.

“I get the feeling you’ve been in the tutelage of a dominant woman. Am I right?”

From behind me, James said, “Yes, Mistress.”

“For how long did you serve her?”

“Six years.”

I turned to stare at him. “And what happened?”

He looked at the floor, but he didn’t respond. I was on him quickly, a flogger in my hand. I got on my knees right next to James, and I gripped his chin in my hand, forcing his face up.

“Six years is a long time,” I said. “I’m guessing your former mistress would not have let you get away with a lack of response when she asked you a question.”

He shook his head, but he still didn’t answer me.

“If you want what I can give you, then you’d better start behaving.”

James took a deep breath. Finally, he said, “She saw other men, too. And I got to the point where I couldn’t… I mean, I wasn’t able… ”

“Oh, you’re jealous.” This delighted me. I grabbed him up with me and led him over to my bed. I undid the leash but left the collar on him. “Strip,” I said. “And assume the position.”

I wanted to see if he’d need more instruction than that. James took off his clothes and neatly folded the items. He set them on the chair in the corner and then spread himself out on my mattress on his stomach. I took the time to admire his hard body. Back at the bar, with his attitude that seemed to imply appearances were less important than the interior, I’d pegged him as the intellectual type. I didn’t expect to see the muscles of a gym rat on his long, lean body.

“Nice,” I said, running the strands of the flogger over his back and naked asscheeks. “Very nice.”

He turned to face me, and I got the feeling he wanted to speak, but he was holding back.

“Permission granted,” I said.

“When we split,” he said, “I spent a lot of time working out. You know, to get rid of my frustrations.”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

He stared at me, his eyes once more filled with the longing I’d caught at the café.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why do you need this?” I asked him before I let loose with the first stroke. He responded as I’d hoped. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t cry out. His body seemed to absorb the pain, and a flicker of peace played over his features. But he didn’t answer my question. I flogged him a second time, then a third, enjoying the feel of the weapon in my grip. There is nothing like delivering a flogging to a new submissive. I was learning how his body responded, and so far he was pleasing me — except in his truculent lack of response.

“James,” I taunted him, “why do you need this? What made you pull up a chair at the café? You knew you’d be punished, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and I could see heat in his cheeks now — both sets. He was blushing and his ass was reddening, and if I’d had a cock, I would have been hard. As it was, my pussy was growing wet beneath my tight black slacks. But I have a steel will. I would be able to hold out longer than James.

Sweet boy,” I said, and I let the flogger flick between his thighs to gently caress his balls. “Sweet, sweet boy,” I said, and I let the sparking tails of the toy slap his asscheeks. “Do you think I’ll ever let you get away with a non-response?”

He shook his head, but that wasn’t good enough for me. Still, I let him ponder the question as I resumed flogging him. I worked him in steady strokes, catching his tender skin with the strands of my suede toy. James took this punishment like a pro. He didn’t beg. He didn’t hump my bed as George had. He submitted. I wanted to kiss him for this. But not yet. No, not yet.

“If I’m going to be able to give you what you want,” I said, “you’re going to have to answer my questions. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I went to the wardrobe and set my flogger back in place. Then I grabbed a new toy and walked over to the head of the bed, so James could see what I held in my hand: a paddle.

“You broke up with your mistress because you wanted an exclusive relationship.”

James nodded, then immediately caught himself and said, “Yes, Mistress.”

“But you don’t know why you want what you want?”

His eyes were filled with hope, desire, fear, need. He took a deep breath and said, “No, I don’t know. I always want it. I want to bow down to a strong woman. I want to serve her, to worship her, to take what she has to give.”

“Oh, I like that,” I said, and I rewarded his answer with a smack from the paddle.

“But I couldn’t stand it when other men served my mistress. And ultimately, I decided that the pain I felt at knowing she saw other people was worse than not having the other.”

I was starting to think that I’d found the love slave I’d been looking for. But I needed to test his stamina. I wanted to know if he really could handle my urges.

“I’m going to give you ten with the paddle,” I said, “for eavesdropping on my conversation.”

I watched as James seemed to find his inner strength. The sight was amazing to behold. He grew still and took a breath, and then he waited. I punished him fiercely. This paddle was one of my favorites, and it packed a wallop. James did not cry out. He did not ask me to stop. He did not beg. He accepted the blows, and then he started to relax. Ah, and that’s what I was looking for. As soon as he let down his guard, I spanked him five more times. I’d told him ten. How would he react to the extra?

He gazed at me with shock at first, and then he smiled. Oh, hell. He smiled at me — as if he and I had a secret.

“What are you smiling about?” I barked at him.

“You saw,” he said. “You knew.”

“Speak in full sentences, boy.”

“You knew I could take more punishment. You knew I needed to take more. You saw… ”

Oh, God — I was dripping now. I could have continued to punish him, but I needed something else, something to satisfy my own building desires. I undid his bindings and told him to turn over. His cock was a pole standing straight up, pointing to the canopy above him. I bound him down again, this time faceup, and I stripped out of my own clothes.

“I’m going to ride you now,” I said. “Don’t you dare come before I give my permission. You are my tool. My toy. You have no thoughts of your own in this matter. You exist solely for my pleasure.”

With those words, I climbed on top of him and let my pussy envelop his cock. James sighed. I pulled off immediately, albeit with a twinge of sadness, and I said, “Were you not listening to me?”

I searched through the nightstand and found two clothespins, which I attached to James’s nipples. He bit his lip, but didn’t moan.

“Let’s try that again,” I said, and I climbed onto the mattress once more and lowered my pussy over his cock. This time, he didn’t sigh. He didn’t make a sound at all. I was thrilled, but I didn’t let him see that. I rose up on my haunches and then lowered myself back down until our bodies were sealed together. In that position, I squeezed him tight with my internal muscles, watching his face the entire time. He looked transported, as if he’d reached the highest level of meditation. I was pleased. There was James, shackled to my bed, his ass striped by my punishment, his nipples clamped with clothespins, my pussy gripping him like a velvet vise, and he was on the cusp. I wondered how much he could take. I began to speed up the ride, and James balled his hands into fists, but that was the only motion to show me how hard he was working to obey my command.

I took the clothespins off his nipples and bent forward to lick each one. He didn’t moan. Didn’t sigh. I put my hands on his chest and really pistoned my hips, and then I said, “James, I’m going to come. Don’t you dare come yet. Don’t you climax until I give you permission. If you fail me, I’m going to set you free tonight. And I won’t see you again. But if you obey… oh, sweet baby. I’m going to set you free in an entirely different way.”

Then I rocked my hips, slid one hand over my clit, and I came. Like never before. I cried out with my pleasure, letting James really experience the way I can climax. He was completely still, almost a statue. His cock like marble. And then I fell forward on him, kissed his lips and said, “Now.”

He bucked his hips and came in a wave, filing me with his seed, lifting me up off the mattress with the force. As he shot inside me, I said, “Oh, baby. That’s right. You come hard. Because next, I’m going to bend you over my bed, spank that lovely ass of yours, and fit you with a plug. And then, baby, you’re going to sleep in that basket on the other side of the bed. Sleep like the pet that you are.” My words extended his climax for him, his hips kept bucking, and I came again, too. A chain reaction climax. Mine to his to mine again.

I meant every word I said. If the only thing he needed was to be my one and only, then we would have no problems. I’d been waiting for the proper pet for as long as I could remember.

“We’ll have another training session in the morning,” I promised him. “You’re a beautiful boy, and you have the stamina of an ox. But we really have to work on your manners.”

James smiled shyly at me, and when I unbuckled his shackles he asked for permission to kiss me. I let him, and I knew as his lips met mine that we were perfectly matched.

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