FEMDOM FIRSTS: How Dominant Women And Their Submissives Got Into The BDSM Lifestyle - Volume 1 of the WellHeeledDominatrix.com Collection

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FEMDOM FIRSTS: How Dominant Women And Their Submissives Got Into The BDSM Lifestyle - Volume 1 of the WellHeeledDominatrix.com Collection Page 3

by Nika Bella Dea


  He went to work, licking and slurping. And, cum I did, grinding into him until he couldn't breathe. I came all over his face and, when I moved away, my juices were dripping down both his cheeks. That was the sexiest I'd ever seen him up until that moment and I wanted to fuck him so badly but it was far too early for that reward.

  Turning again, I saw his cock was still just as miserable as it had been moments before, tall, hard, and begging to be rubbed, squeezed, and given release.

  I trailed my fingers around the base again, not touching the shaft at all.

  "Please, you promised!" he begged.

  Getting up, and heading to the shower, I said, "Yes, I did. But, you see, I've changed my mind, Ben. I've decided you need to save yourself for our wedding night. Why don't you think about how quickly you can make that wedding happen while I go wash up?"

  "Please, Nikki!" He looked like he was going to cry again.

  Turning briefly, I said, "And, remember, NO touching your own cock. It is mine now, to do with as I please. Each morning when you shower, I will clean it for you. I know that will be humiliating for you but that's the way it's going to be. If you're a good boy between now and our wedding, I might let you cum on our wedding night...or I might not. We'll have to see how well you behave." I continued walking toward the bathroom.

  Defeated, he replied, "Yes, ma'am." After a moment, he called, "Can I get in the shower with you right now?"

  I was too sharp for that ploy.

  "No," I firmly replied. "You're going to stay right there, tied up, naked, exposed, and HARD until morning."

  The Proposal

  by Joshua

  Looking back, I misread all the signs when Hannah and I were dating. Three months into our relationship when, at the end of an exhilarating duel of tongues, she shut down my hopes to go further. I assumed it was my fault for going too quickly.

  Months later, when she would cease a blow job early, or end our coital entanglements as abruptly as they had begun, I assumed it was some fickleness on her part. I would have left a woman with a less captivating charm and I think she knew it. Instead, I found her as intoxicating as she was perplexing and, before I realized it, I was professing my perpetual love over a fancy dinner that ended with me unveiling a tiny sliver of metal and stone to her.

  Looking past the ring into my eyes in her sweet yet assertive way, she told me to kneel before her chair with it. Assuming it was a matter of tradition, I indulged her, and knelt at her feet, while presenting the ring with a showy flourish. But, instead of the simple, unequivocal yes that I had expected, she cleared her throat. "I want to be in control," she stated with no other explanation, plucking the ring from my hands, and putting it on her own finger.

  No sooner had we gotten in the car than I brought up that I had always considered her an equal in our relationship. When she rebuffed my concern, I asked if it was simply too soon, and if I had not adequately considered her feelings by proposing. She turned to me, and firmly said, "I will be controlling you more now."

  Startled, I asked her to explain. As she offered details of what she meant, I began to see a pattern. It was in the bedroom that she craved dominion over me and everything she did was orchestrated to that end. Everything. Her decision to spend more time sculpting her bush than it would have taken to shave or wax wasn't aesthetic, but a way of reminding me that she was a woman, not a girl. Midway through sex, when she called it off, it wasn't tiredness or discomfort. She wanted me to go to bed wanting her. And, when she had given me a blindfold and restraints for my last birthday, they weren't intended to be used on her. As it dawned on me that she wanted to pursue BDSM in our relationship, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. After thinking it over, I resolved to indulge her at least this once, before deciding the fate of our future.

  "Will it hurt?" I asked nervously as she fastened the thick restraints around my wrists, and tossed my clothes aside.

  "Not much," she replied, without any sense of mirth. "It's more about power. As long as you're a good boy, you should be fine, though I do recall telling you that you weren't allowed to speak." She paused thoughtfully, "I think you need to be reminded that you belong to Lady Hannah." With that, she withdrew to my closet, leaving me to wonder what punishment she had in mind.

  When she returned, she was wearing my favorite shirt, a tenderly worn t-shirt commemorating a concert I had attended years ago. It hung loosely over her body as she crossed the room to stand beside the bed. Peeling the shirt off in a single motion, she revealed a tight, black bustier and a matching pair of crotchless panties underneath. Leaning in, she whispered huskily into my ear. "We're just animals," she hissed. "We have to mark what's ours."

  With a slight tinge of fear, I locked eyes with her and she smiled cruelly as she casually tossed the t-shirt to her feet. Never breaking her self-sure grin, she squatted until her eyes were level with mine, and released a thin stream of urine onto the crumpled shirt. Staring helplessly, fear washed over me as I wondered what my captor intended to do with the soiled fabric. Breaking eye contact, I glanced furtively at the drenched shirt, agonizing over whether she would make me wear it. If she intended to mark me as one of her possessions, this was one way to do it.

  As the stream faded into a trickle, she knelt down, and plucked my discarded boxers from the floor before using them to wipe away any straggling drops. Pausing thoughtfully, she dropped the boxers to the floor. "Maybe I should just let you clean me up some," she boasted as she climbed onto the bed, and straddled my face. Slowly, she lowered her pristinely pruned pussy over my mouth until I was nearly drowning in her welling excitement. Not content to simply perch over me, she began vigorously grinding her sopping cunt into my face, prickling my nose with her wiry pubes, and coating my mouth and chin with her effluence. I lapped harder, twisting my tongue into her pulsating pussy before snaking it back out over her labia, and flicking it across her clit. Tugging at my hair as she thrusted, her fingers clenched and relaxed in concert with the weight of her body against my lips. Together, we exchanged staggered gasps as she moaned in delight and I struggled to breathe through her nether lips. With each purloined breath, my lungs filled with her intoxicating aroma; her perfume, sweat, and secretions blending into an enthralling medley of desire and anticipation.

  Reaching back, Hannah gave my blood-bloated cock a single, brutal tug, testing its turgidity in her grip. Satisfied by what she felt, she slid over the slope of my chest before working my throbbing head into her inner sanctum. I felt the length of my shaft slowly glide inside her supple body as she braced her weight against my shackled arms. She easily enveloped the whole of my manhood, coating my cock with a layer of her nectar, before digging her nails into the muscles of my chest, and grinding against me. Not to be outdone, I began thrusting upward, mustering my own strength against the combination of her and my chains. My efforts quickly drew a sharp rebuke. "I will tell you when and how I want you to move!" she commanded, digging her fingernails painfully into my chest.

  Chastened, I lay still, feeling the power hidden in her lithe frame as she worked herself into a steady rhythm against me, plunging my cock inside her body at her whim. Finding a technique that suited her, she ordered me to join in. With an air of authority, she goaded and critiqued my hapless thrusts, polishing my technique with a series of colorful curses and purposeful condescension. Finally, I settled into a gentle bobbing motion that she found to her liking and she declared me tamed, gloating over the idea of breaking me like a mustang. Synchronized, we bobbed and weaved together in alternating undulations of pleasure. After a few moments, she began picking up speed, chiding me to do the same, and setting the rhythm by tapping her finger against my chest as her voice gave way to quiet moans of pleasure. At last, the tapping stopped as her abs began quivering visibly beneath her skin and her nails once again embedded themselves into my flesh. Without warning, she threw her head back, her mouth yawning in a luxurious groan, as waves of pleasure surged from her belly before cascading through her
limbs. Her loins clenched around mine and I came inside her, my essence milked from me by the clenching of her muscles and the exuberant howls of her victory.

  Gently, daintily, she lowered her body atop mine, resting. Her soft breasts squeezed between us into a cushion as I heard her whisper inaudibly into my shoulder. As suddenly as she had appeared, the fearsome Amazonian warrior was gone. The reign of the powerful and ruthless Lady Hannah had been deposed, usurped by the gentle cuddling of my Hannah. Likewise compelled to whisper in this sacred moment, I asked her what she had said, apologizing that I had not heard.

  Turning her head to look me in the eyes, she brought her hand up towards our faces, a faint sparkle danced across her finger in the dim light.

  "I said yes," she breathed. "You are mine."

  My Exciting New Life

  by Amanda

  Some would say that my husband and I are a very lucky couple in that we have a beautiful home, exotic holidays, new cars, and money in the bank. But, none of that has come easily to us. We are both hard-working and it has taken us some years to get to where we are now. I remember times when we would get by on about four hours sleep a night in the early days when we were burning the candle at both ends in our efforts to make the business a successful one.

  Well, fortunately for us, all that hard work paid off and now we are comfortable, and don't have to worry about money, but woe to anyone who has the audacity to say that we are lucky! It has been sheer hard work, and not luck, that has put us in this position. But, do you know what it's like when you have all the money and material trappings? You are constantly looking for something new for your somewhat jaded palate. We have done all the exciting things like skiing and parachute jumps, and sunbathed on deserted beaches until we are both as brown as berries. We have visited strip clubs where I have watched my husband have a private dance and he has gotten a massive erection by watching me have one, too!

  But, after years of vanilla sex (which, don't get me wrong, does get you to climax), it can become somewhat safe and 'samey', if you understand me. Too many nights of doing 'it' in the same position, under the duvet and with the lights off often left me wanting more. William is a very understanding husband, and has always gone out of his way to make me happy, and give me what I want. But, there are some things that couples just don't talk about because they don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. So, for a long time, I put up and shut up, and didn't tell him I was feeling bored and wanted more excitement.

  One night, I decided to have an experiment to see how he would take to doing things a little differently than usual. We were in bed and, as usual, he made sure that I came before he climbed on top to fuck me. Now, I know this had been his way for years but I thought I would change things around a little. And, boy am I glad that I did because that was the first night of our new sexual existence. Instead of just lying there, and taking it, I flipped over so that William was on his back instead. I straddled him so that I could be in charge for a change.

  He looked a bit surprised when I leaned over, and turned the bedside lamp on, and even more so when I said, "I want to see you fucking me. Just watch your dick slide into my cunt, William, and see how hot that looks." I grabbed the base of his shaft, and fed it into me, making him look down towards my pussy. The result was that he didn't last more than a minute, and was full of gasps and groans, and, "Oh my gosh. Why didn't you ever do that before?"

  I was so pleased with how that went, and not to mention the fact that I felt fabulous being the one with the power for a change, that I decided to talk to him during dinner the next evening so that we could have a proper discussion about our sex life in general. "William darling, you did enjoy me being in charge last night didn't you?" I asked him.

  "Gosh, yes," he said. "I hadn't realized how much it could seem like watching a porn movie when I could see my dick sliding into you. It was just too exciting to hold back."

  That was the kind of response I had been hoping for because I had started to formulate a little plan. "And, did you enjoy me being in charge?" He nodded. "That's good," I said. "Because, how would you like it if we took that a little further next time?"

  He stopped eating his dinner, and looked up at me with excitement in his eyes. "I would be quite happy to leave all that in your hands, honey," he replied. "In fact, I'm getting excited just thinking about it. But, I'll just ask you to do one thing."

  "What's that?"

  "Surprise me. Don't tell me what you're going to do. I think it would be even more exciting for both of us that way."

  "Leave it to me; you won't know what to expect and, hopefully, you'll like it." I went straight upstairs after dinner to put my plan into action. When I had finished, I called William up, and greeted him at our bedroom door, dressed in my most expensive lingerie. His eyes lit up. "Lie on the bed naked," I said.

  I had never seen William get stripped so quickly. He threw himself on the bed, and laughed, "Okay, do whatever you want."

  "I hope you mean that," I said, grabbing his wrists and tying them to the head of the bed. I did the same to his ankles and he was already hard after watching me bending over and giving him a tantalizing glimpse of my ass. I picked up a blindfold I had bought that day, and slipped it around his head.

  "Fuck me, you sexy bitch," he almost growled, his cock was red and throbbing, and twitching with pre-cum.

  I straddled his chest once I had taken my panties off, and made him listen to the noises I made as I fingered my wet pussy, and then shoved my fingers into his mouth. "Lick them clean," I commanded. I was really close to cumming myself; I was enjoying things so much. I climbed on, and slipped his hard cock into me and rode it, grinding my clit onto his pubic bone. He followed soon after.

  When I let him loose, he hugged me so tightly I almost couldn't breathe. We agreed that we had a fabulous time and that next time I am going to take things a bit further, and have already bought a soft whip so that we can see how we feel about trying some whipping along with the bondage. I, for one, cannot wait!

  She Likes Staying Wet

  by the Pool Boy

  I guess my wife has always been somewhat of an exhibitionist. What many women would be too timid to wear, she does. Dresses that expose ALL her cleavage, right down to her belly button, high skirts that have people staring to catch a glimpse of her ass...or more, see-through tops. You know the type. That woman you won't take home to your mother. Well, I did take her home to my mother...and my parents can't stand her. I don't care. I have the sexiest eye candy on the street, probably in town. Other men envy me. I know how good I have it. They probably assume she wears that stuff to impress me, and to make me proud. Nothing could be further from the truth.

  Goddess (that's what she makes me call her) wears those sexy outfits to attract OTHER men, and to make me jealous. It works and I like it.

  But, back to the beginning. I was going to tell you how our roles have always been reversed. I can't tell you when I started to get sexually aroused by being degraded and humiliated. I guess that would be a conversation for a shrink. No, I don't have one and I don't want one. I like the way I am.

  We hadn't been dating long when Goddess started showing signs of frustration in my words and actions, pretty much everything I did. You know, leaving my socks on the floor, not calling her back right away, not noticing she trimmed her hair. Things like that. I didn't understand why she was complaining about small stuff. I thought maybe she was already getting tired of me so I tried hard to impress her in every way, hoping she would stick around. The more I tried to make her happy, the more angry she seemed to get. I swear it was like she looked for stuff to complain about. One night, she suggested some "punishment" might help me mend my ways. I was getting desperate at that point to make her happy so I agreed. I had NO idea that she meant sexual punishment. By the end of that night, I had a rosy-red ass and I was thinking of more ways to upset her just so I could have another painful spanking!

  Looking back, that's the night the tone was set for th
e rest of our courtship and marriage. The very next day, she wanted to lay out and get a tan by my pool. I have a large backyard with a low stone wall surrounding my garden and pool. Don't be too impressed. That garden is tended to by my fantastically talented gardener. I never touch it. But, it's nice to look at. The pool has a rock waterfall and the sound is very relaxing. It's a quiet neighborhood and even the neighbors comment about the soothing sound of my waterfall.

  Goddess was lying on her stomach on the lounge chair when I came out to offer her a drink. She snapped that it had taken me too long, and asked why I didn't already know she wanted a Mai Tai. I shook my head. Was I going to be punished for not being psychic now? I hoped so! I quickly went inside to make her Mai Tai at the bar.

  I then came outside, stood above her, and waited for her to roll over. She yelled at me for my shadow being on her. "My tan might be uneven!" As she sat up, her untied bikini top was left on the lounge. She turned over and her tits bobbed as she reached for the glass. I couldn't help but stare. After weeks of lying by my pool, her small bikini had left white triangles on her breasts and her dark nipples were square in the middle of those triangles. I felt myself getting hard.

  I licked my hot lips. "Suntan oil, dear?" I prayed she would say yes. She did.

  She placed her drink on the table, and laid down flat on her back. I bent over, and grabbed the brown bottle of oil. I sloshed a bunch on my hand, and then bent over, and started rubbing it on her legs first. I worked my way up to her thighs. As my fingers brushed the front of her bikini bottoms, she spread her legs slightly. Yes!!! I barely dipped my fingertips under the edges of the bikini so as not to miss any spots. If I did, there would be hell to pay. I then moved to the top of the bikini bottoms, and dipped my fingertips in again.

  She said, "Take them off." I thought I was going to lose it right there.

 

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