Tramp Stamp (bi)
She liked being subservient and I liked being dominant. It wasn't that she did it for me. It was wired into her psyche. On the other hand I did it for her. If she didn't have the desire to serve I would have been very happy with a traditional equal relationship.
And I'm also not saying this defined our whole relationship. It was mostly how we did it in the bedroom.
Now, I did enjoy how she was so willing to make my sexual needs her priority. Like, on a typical night I would ask "Are you ready, slave?
And she would answer, "Yes, Master." if she was.
Then I could follow my whims. If I wanted a blowjob I could just say, "Suck my cock, slave." And she would do it. It thrilled her to be called a slave. She craved being told what to do. She wanted to be controlled.
It was a rare moment when she might decline: If she had a headache or something. Then she would say, "I'm sorry, but my head's killing me, Andy."
We never tried the roles any other way. As much as I was not a natural dom I was absolutely not subservient.
Sexually I was completely satisfied. But Rosalie wanted even more subservience. She wanted me to play up my role. She wanted me to be more dominant and even aggressive. She wanted me to force her to do what I wanted even to the point of physical control. I can't say I understood what drove her.
I tried talking down to her but it took some effort. I would grab her and put her in the positions I wanted, but she always felt I was too gentle.
So one day we saw this couple walking down the street. Rosalie whispered to me, "She's a sub." I looked, and maybe she was right. But maybe they were just a normal couple.
"What makes you say that?"
"Hmmm, she only looks at him when he talks to her. He always speaks first. She's wearing an ankle bracelet with a tiny silver lock on it and her tramp stamp says 'force me'." She was just a touch smug, "That's what."
"Huh, I bet you're right. Wanna talk to them?"
"Not on your life. You're all I need. But I'm jealous."
I laughed, "You're a thousand times better looking than her."
"That's not what I mean. He controls her more than you control me."
We were walking past a tattoo parlor a few minutes later, "OK, go get that same tattoo right now." Then I remembered to add, "I command you."
First her face dropped. Then she got excited, "Let's go!"
However, when push came to shove she couldn't follow through. We were in there for forty-five minutes picking out a design and a font. But in the end she was too afraid. Finally, Rosalie squeezed my hand, "Andy. I can't do it. Will you forgive me?"
I hugged my darling, "Of course." Then, yet again, I remembered what she wanted, "But you've earned a spanking."
She smiled widely with a twinkle in her eye, "Really? You've never spanked me."
"I know. I'm trying to get better." And I was trying. It wasn't natural to me but I became obsessed with getting better.
At home I played my role, "Strip, slave!" A minute later she was standing before me nude with a bowed head.
I sat on a kitchen chair and motioned for her to lay across my lap. I could read the sexual exhilaration in every movement of her body. With her bum up and her head down, my hand rested lightly on her cheeks as I got the nerve to hit her. Meanwhile, I could feel the moisture building up on my thigh under her pussy.
I lifted my hand high, "You wasted my time." Then I brought it down fast, but hesitated at the last second diminishing the blow. It still hit her with a resounding whack!
She yelped. And a moment later she was teary eyed and snot nosed. I scrambled to lift her up. Looking in her smudged eyes I begged, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"Oh, Andy it hurt so much! I didn't know what it would be like."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
She hugged me back, "Don't be sorry. I want to get better at taking it. Promise you'll spank me again?"
Holding her close I patted her rump symbolically, "As soon as I'm ready." I pushed her toward the kitchen table trying my best to be rough, "Bend over so I can look at the red handprint on your perfect ass while I fuck you!"
I plowed her cunt thirty or forty times until I had a wicked idea, "Pull your cheeks apart, slave." She grasped her creamy buns and pulled.
Gazing at her delectable asshole I declared, "I'm gonna do something to your bung. Are you ready?"
"Yes, master. Whatever you will."
I wanted to ring her chute in tiny circles with a gentle finger. But I thought better and first spit on it loudly before working my thumb as far in as it would go. I have to admit, it had the desired effect and made me cum right away.
When I pulled out, my cum leaked from her used hole, hitting the floor with a splat. "Clean that up! Did my slave cum? Does she want to?"
Naked on her hands and knees she wiped the floor with some paper towels, "I got something better, Sir."
We snuggled on the couch watching NCIS after that, "Andy, you're the best boyfriend in the world."
I pulled her closer, "Thanks Rosalie. You're the best too."