Playing Dom
Page 13
To the submissive under consideration:
You are reading this letter because you have taken an interest in becoming a submissive. The first part of the process is to fill out the following questionnaire for examination and consideration. Many of the questions are very personal. Please be advised that it is important for you to answer all questions as honestly and thoroughly as possible.
Part of being a submissive is to be completely open with your Dominant. By accepting this questionnaire, you have agreed to take the first step in that process. All questions must be answered from the bottom of your heart. There must be no falsified information or half-truths.
If you come across a question that you don't understand, research the information. It is your responsibility and first duty as a submissive under consideration to fill out this questionnaire completely. Failure to do so will result in consideration for your training to be revoked.
The seriousness of it twisted knots in my stomach. If anyone else had handed me such a letter, I might have smirked or laughed. Damien Reed didn't play games though. Every typed word was meant wholeheartedly, and I knew that if things were going to work between us, then I had to be as honest as possible, no matter how uncomfortable it made me or how bad I might feel about my answers.
In truth, I had been putting off filling out the questionnaire for a while. The sheer number of questions on it made my head spin. Some of them were easy to answer. Some of them, not so much.
It was down to the wire though. I would be meeting with Damien Reed the following day to go over my answers. Whether I liked it or not, the questionnaire demanded my full attention if I wanted to belong to him. And I did want to belong to him.
With a sigh, I removed the staple from the stack of papers and filed the letter to the back. The first page was a basic health questionnaire, asking me about drug usage and medical conditions. For the most part, I was a good girl. The only drug I had ever experimented with was marijuana. I enjoyed it, but not enough to go out of my way for it. My medical and psychological history was clean too. The only thing wrong with me was bad vision, and I preferred to correct it with glasses, which Damien already knew.
The next few pages got a lot more intimate. There were questions about my sexuality, my experience, what I expected from my relationship with Damien, how often I wanted sex, and what types of domestic skills I was good at. Behind that was a list of words for which I had to write down my own definitions. The last few pages of the questionnaire contained a mile-long list of kinks. I was supposed to indicate which ones that I would be interested in trying, my level of interest in the activity, and which ones I absolutely wouldn't do.
By the time I finished filling out the questionnaire, it was past midnight. My brain felt completely fried, and I couldn't believe I had spent almost three hours on the thing. Thank God the weekend loomed ahead, and I didn't have to be at Damien's place until four o'clock the next day.
Exhausted, I crawled into bed, staring across my nightstand at the stack of papers that had consumed so much of my time, wondering if Damien Reed would be pleased with my answers. Whether he was or not, I probably wouldn't know. His face was usually expressionless, rarely betraying a hint of his true emotion. It was one thing I hated about him, adding to the mystery that was Damien Reed. So many times, I had wondered what was going on inside of that gorgeous head of his. I suppose it didn't matter now though. Once I turned in that stack of papers, he would be mine. At least, that's how I assumed it worked. In reality, I still wasn't quite sure what to expect. But Damien would teach me. He was good at that.
Despite the tiredness that plagued me, my mind swam with thoughts of upcoming lessons with Damien Reed. He promised me so many new and exciting experiences. After reading the extensive list of kinks, I wondered how many of them he planned to explore with me. Some sounded more fun than others, like fantasy rape and toy play, but at the very top of my list was spanking. I yearned for Damien Reed's large powerful hand to slip my panties down and spank my ass until it was a warm pink. The very thought of it made my pussy ache.
Chey, you've been a very bad girl, I pictured him saying, looming over me, tall and dominant and handsome. He'd stare down at me with those hard brown eyes, eyes that always meant business. Like a good submissive, I'd turn my backside to him for punishment, or was it pleasure?
He'd look at me with little regard, making me feel small and uncertain, as he often did. When his fingertips touched my hips to pull my underwear over my ass, I would quiver with excitement, my body's central pleasure core heating up like a switch had just been turned on. I never understood how a simple touch of his hand could ignite my desire so, but I certainly didn't mind it. Damien Reed was a sexual circuit, and I was his conductor. Together, we made electricity flow until both of our bodies exploded in ecstasy. It was a perfect match.
Even as I thought about him, electricity was flowing to my sensitive areas. I sneaked a hand beneath my nightshirt to tweak one of my perked nipples before I slipped it down the front of my panties. Already, I was wet for Damien Reed, for his deft hand on my smooth wanton skin.
My mind returned to the fantasy while my finger absentmindedly flicked across my pleasure button, massaging teasingly, as Damien would do. I pictured myself crawling onto his lap, leaning over it, my naked bottom poised for punishment. Silently, I begged for it, waiting with a yearning that put my entire body on edge.
He'd rub his palm over my ass, groping and squeezing, warming me up for what was to come. By that time, my pussy was throbbing, the tides of my pleasure slowly moving into shore. The hand would leave my ass, and I'd bite my bottom lip, picturing it pulled back, ready to strike. Then the blow would come, sending fire through my backside as skin kissed skin. I'd cry out, but not from discomfort.
“Again,” I whispered, and again he would draw back and let his hand crack against my ass. Blow after blow rained down on me, not hard enough to bruise, but just enough to blush my skin. Each strike would send a shot of pleasure straight to my cunt.
“Don't stop,” I begged, wanting to feel the warmth drown me. And he didn't stop. Not until the tidal wave of bliss consumed me, and the sensitive nerve endings in my clit fired off, rejoicing from the stimulation.
I gasped into the darkness, rubbing tight circles against my clit and feeling the contractions play beneath my fingertips. The pain in my ass subsided as my orgasm ebbed away, leaving me gasping and content. Damien Reed was nowhere to be found. I was alone in my room, panting, with my hand shoved into my panties, staring up into the blackness of night in my bedroom, praying for sleep, waiting for morning to come.