Submissive Writing Assignment

Tomorrow I want you to think about how best to worship the throbbing problem you're causing me. What words to use. What makeup to wear. You said you like your lipstick. What's your best cock slurping lipstick or gloss? I need to know how you'd try to impress me before I can see how much re-education you need.

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I have chosen to approach this task assuming immediacy. Of course there is a world in which I am trained to the extent that you can flick a switch in me easily- bringing me from worthy opponent to drooling sleeve with the whisper of a word or a mere glance, but all good things take time. For now, we are just getting to know each other, so I am imagining how I would worship you now- as someone who wants to earn the intensity of your attention.

You get off on contrast, and on getting under a strong woman's skin- so I will appear to you as I am. A simple black dress, standard corporate attire- but with a black strappy bodysuit underneath for your eyes only. My makeup will be tasteful, but purposeful- I might have to sneak in some lashes to look at you through. You'll be focused on my lips- coated in the softest lipstick, Dior's classic red, with a thick and shiny gloss on top- once you know what those lips feel like wrapped around your cock, the sight of them will consume you.

I will walk over to you, responding to your silent command. Wearing heels, I am close to eye level- but still have to look up at you slightly. The scent of my perfume reaches you, adding fuel to your already burning fire. I'll kiss you, because I can't help it. You'll wrap your arms around me, greedy hands feeling lingerie under my dress and pulling it off of me to see what's just for you. I'll swallow your moan in a kiss; my tongue dancing around your tongue, across your lips, leaving the last of the kiss unfinished as I bend down to my knees.

"May I have your cock please, Sir?" I ask sweetly.

At your growled nod you see fingers clad in jewels with dark nails unbuckling your belt. You see immaculate cleavage between straps and satin, thick and tattooed thighs bending before you. You see green eyes looking up at you through lashes, the threat of a smirk dancing across my glossy lips as your throbbing cock springs free.

I haven't touched you yet; instead, wide eyes ogle your cock, the bead of wetness at the tip an invitation to my tongue.

"May I suck your cock, please, Sir?" I ask, looking up at you. "I need it."

Your hand cups my cheek, thumb smearing lipstick from the corner of my mouth. I don't break eye contact until you grab a fistful of hair and pull my head back. "Now," you command, before letting go.

You see a flash of teeth as I smile, and feel a soft tongue flick the tip of your cock so lightly that you wonder if you imagined it. You feel a kiss on your thigh, leaving bright red lips in its wake. Another below it. One more, featherlight on your balls before my tongue wets them. I take them into my warm mouth, one and then the other, rolling them gently with my tongue. I suck fast and hard for a moment- just to make sure I have your attention- before reverting back to my slow worship. Your balls are soaked, and the spit is starting to wet my chin.

I still haven't touched your cock. Someone who didn't know better might think I am in charge, but we both know you're just letting me have my fun. You'll take what you want when you want it, but you also suspect that I will eagerly give it soon enough.

I finally leave a kiss on your other thigh before returning my attention to your need. You watch my red lips wrap around you as you feel a flick, then a gentle suck. Lips, tongue, mouth- one at a time, then all together. When I gently pull off of you, you see the ring of my lipstick halfway down your cock.

I lick under your shaft, base to tip, tongue wide and wet. I swirl around you, taking my time to soak every inch of you. I look up at you, just as I leave a purposeful bead of spit at the tip of your cock.

"Good girl," you praise.

"I know," I reply. You see a playful glint in my eyes, and then something shifts- almost imperceptible, but for a squaring of my shoulders and a set in my brow. A sense of calm purpose washes over me, and I finally get to work.

My mouth is thorough and unhurried, taking my time exploring every inch of you. Your cock is soaked. I easily slide my hand up and down your shaft, fingers soaked in spit. I add more with my mouth for good measure before taking you in my throat.

The tip of your cock kisses my throat a few times as I test your length. You feel my hands wrap around you, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you in. I swallow, just to show off, before I release. In one breath you're back in my throat, which has just become your new favourite place to be.

You have a distinct suspicion that I am having just as much fun as you are.

I set a slow pace to start, taking you all the way in, holding you until my eyes water, and sliding my lips back down your shaft before taking a breath. I never take my eyes off of you; you can see my makeup start to run, and you can see that I like it as I choke on you again and again.

Your hands tangle in my hair, holding your cock in my throat just a few seconds longer. You feel me struggle, but I hold on until you release me. Midway through my gasp for air, you're already back inside me.

You feel my body resist for just a moment, and then you feel me soften. With each slow and deliberate thrust you feel me weaken, my resolve pooling like the spit dripping down my chin. My body wants to fight you, but my mind is determined to please you.

This is why you chose a strong-minded woman.

Your cock invades my throat over and over. You pull out, only to slap your hard shaft across my face. You smear my makeup, my tears, my spit into a custom canvas. I instinctively open my mouth and stick out my tongue, a silent request to feel your thickness on it. You slap yourself down on my tongue and hear a garbled "More, please."

You very kindly give me what I ask for.

I choke thick white spit onto you, trailing it from my smeared red lips to your shaft, down my chin and onto my tits. You indulge and hold yourself down my throat, waiting for me to gurgle and bubble spit around you before finally letting me breathe. The next time you do that, you can feel me break.

The last of the tension leaves my shoulders, and the look in my eyes clears of conscious thought. My body relaxes, my eyes looking up at you with clarity and peace. You set a deliberate and decadent pace, and I absorb every single thrust.

The woman who walked into the room is not the woman who will walk out. This is my true purpose, and I am grateful to you for helping me get here. You will eventually put me back together, but not until you've fully torn me apart.