When I first read Nick’s online dating profile, it said he was looking for a “female-led” relationship, I had no idea this meant a relationship where the female would be a dominatrix. Though I’d heard the word “dominatrix” before, it was only in the nether lands of pornography, dark stories of erotic torture. It had never come to my consciousness as a possible lifestyle. Never before had I heard of female-led relationships, FemDom, Doms, Subs, Bottoming, Topping.
So, when Nick first opened up to me in detail about his sexual fantasies and desires, told me that he hoped to find a real relationship where he could share his authentic sexual self, I was a little intimidated. But, I told him I was open to trying anything.
I am a very sexual woman, but my first few attempts at being The Dom came with a bit of stiffness, uncertainty, and even giggles. Thankfully, Nick laughed with me and not at me. He was patient with the first wobbly steps of his new Mistress, and even with my awkwardness, he was beyond turned on. Even today, he expresses gratitude for having a girlfriend who is open to trying.
But in Mistress Elise’s last couple of appearances in our bedroom, Domina blood has begun to flow through my veins. I feel the power in holding Nick’s balls in my hands, squeezing them until he moans, or in slapping them. Harder. Harder.
Last night, I took a piece of leather and wrapped them around the base of his balls–tight. I separated each ball by dividing them from each other with leather down the middle. This would make it so much easier to discipline Nick more effectively, as I wouldn’t have to worry about the elusive orbs slipping out of my grasp. With the leather, I had them right where I wanted them, with both hands free to do as I pleased with the rest of My Boy’s body.
After all, there were nipples to pinch, lips to bite, hair to pull, and of course, his cock to entice to its edge.
I could do all of that and still have one hand to take care of that most vulnerable part of his body–his balls. All that control in one hand–to spank, slap, flick with my fingers.
He writhed and whispered sweet moaning to his mistress, begging me to stop. Begging me to continue. But it didn’t matter what he begged me to do. I was becoming more and more powerful and I knew it was up to me and me alone, to decide how I would have my way with him.
His cock swelled to rock hard. If I slapped his balls, he got harder, though he cried out in pain.
“Thank you, Mistress,” he said, over and over. Until at last, he asked, “Can I enter you now?”
First, I slapped his balls hard for asking the question, though inside, I so wanted his hot, hard cock inside me. “How dare you ask me that question,” I scolded. “Only I decide when you can enter me, if I allow you to enter at all.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” he replied.
I pulled the leather tighter. He cried out again.
Power flowed through me, until I knew I was wet, ached to have his cock enter me. When his massive sex hovers over my cunt, pressing against it until the weight of him enters me, this Mistress must succumb and let you know–it’s the best part of sex with My Boy.
I laid on my back, grabbed his hand, made him touch my wetness. “Fuck me, now,” I commanded.
And for a moment, I gave in to him. For a moment, he could have asked anything of me.
But my submission didn’t last long. Once inside me, he moved in. Out. Spread my wetness with his cock. Soon, I gathered my dominant composure and grabbed his balls again.
He pounded me. But, squeezing his balls hard, I controlled him. Told him when to stop. When to go slow. When to speed up. I told him how long he should stay at the crest of his cumming and when he could finally slide into pulsing waves of orgasm, when it no longer mattered who was Dom and who was Sub.
All that mattered was that for a moment, we were the only two people in the world.