Damian Ch. 06: SENSUAL DOMINATION

Literotic asexstories – Damian Ch. 06: SENSUAL DOMINATION by flynn99,flynn99
06) SENSUAL DOMINATION

The one where Damian really expands his sexual frontiers with Tara.

Damian is learning about BDSM from his sex surrogate as a part of his therapy to recover from his dominatrix wife’s brutal display, publicly humiliating him.

We meet for dinner at ‘our’ Italian restaurant. She loves the place. We sit on adjacent sides of the table to keep our conversation more private.

I get a sense for her ‘hard limits’ as well as her ‘soft limits’… a soft limit is something she’s willing to try but reserves the right not to like and to stop. Not surprisingly, she’s very clear and structured in this conversation. Her hard limits list is extensive, but full of stuff she has to define for me; things that give me nightmares to even think about, much less push onto another human being. Her soft limits list is intriguing. I resolve to explore one of her soft limits with her and I know just the one.

This conversation is in no way off-putting. She has a lot more on her “okay” list than I would ever consider, and nothing on her “wants” list I wouldn’t consider.

“So, Damian, there’s one thing that’s a sure way to make my mood crumble… that’s degradation.”

“Humiliation?”

“No… Humiliation is a natural part of submission… it’s the Dom showing the Sub who’s in charge. It drives submission. Done right, it’s really hot. Same root word as ‘humble’. Humilius is Latin for humble and deeper it comes from an older word for earth. Once the sub is truly humble, then they have truly submitted.

“Degradation is saying horrible things to a person to drive humility. ‘You’re fat.’ ‘You’re not good enough.’ ‘your penis is too small.’ It’s the wrong way to do it if you’re compassionate. You don’t have to make the other person small to look big. It’s just mean.”

I snicker my agreement “Yeah, I get it. All that to me too… and, plus… it just feels like someone is saying it like reading a script. It’s just stupid.”

She’s open for a little humiliation: like being made to do something embarrassing, especially in public. That one’s a bit challenging since she’s already shown that it might take a lot to make her uncomfortable! Let’s see… she was willing to wear a wet t-shirt to the gym and fuck in the public bathroom after all. She even had said she would’ve come to the men’s sauna if I’d tried to get her to. But… challenge accepted! If she’s up for humiliation, then let’s get creative!

It was a fun dinner.

—

I spend the rest of the week plotting my plans in my free time. And it’s amazing what you can get from Amazon next-day delivery. I went from unenthusiastic and low confidence to erotically ready in three days.

I text her Friday morning. “Saturday 3:00” and an address. “Loose-fitting cotton dress, no underwear. No makeup. Look cute.” Then I take her example. “Your safe word is ‘humility.’ Be on time… no excuses you’ll regret.” And I get back, “Yes, Sir.”

—

The address is a park restroom… away from our usual stomping grounds. The park is a secluded, wooded area with a few hiking and running trails and almost no people. Which seems odd for a Saturday, but I’d already scoped it out and found that 3:00 was a down time for this park for some reason. I’m waiting outside with a duffel bag and am dressed casually, leaning against a pole out front.

She arrives, looking a bit nervous, about ten minutes early. I swear that there’s something different about her: she exudes an awkwardness, an innocence. I can sense her breathing – it’s more punctuated than normal. And her nipples are erect and poking through the thin cotton dress she’s wearing, but it’s not that cold. Dr Anne said she was naturally submissive: is this what that looks like?

She comes up to me and doesn’t seem to know how to start. I just look at her like I expect her to know. Honestly, I don’t either, but whatever she does, I’ll give her credit. She looks around and then falls to her knees looking at me hopefully with doe eyes and says “I am here for you, Master.”

I smile in a way that is calculated to look cocky, but pleased. “Well met, little one.”

She seems relieved.

I offer the back of my hand and she kisses it, then licks it. She never takes her eyes from me, though I’m sure she’s thinking about the possibility of other people seeing our display. That pleases me.

“Up, dear Tara.” And as she stands, I reach into the duffel bag and get out a collar with a ring hanging from it. I don’t know why, but a cloth collar on a girl has always been a fetish of mine. This one was leather and I want to experience putting it on her.

She looks at me with lust in her eyes and cocks her head to make it accessible for collaring.

I put the collar around her neck, slowly and lovingly. I had made sure to get one with a soft, padded inside because I couldn’t bear if it caused her pain. I fastened it securely.

I look at my collared friend and… wow. That’s fetish on steroids. It’s really sexy.

She breathes raggedly and says “thank you, Master” with labored breath. Apparently, she likes this approach a lot. I like that she likes it.

“Are you going to leash me?” she asks, coquettishly.

God, that’s hot. She looks so sexy in that collar.

“Later.” She seemed a bit disappointed in that answer, but it was my job as Dom to set the pace and maybe to keep her on edge. We have the whole evening ahead of us. I give her a large water bottle and tell her to drink it all. “You’re going to need the hydration.” Then I invite her on a walk.

On our walk, I keep repeating what she’d told me about what she liked and might not like. My voice is not subdued… it must feel to her like all her secrets are being told to anyone within earshot. I go into graphic detail about how I “could” do this or could do that, and all the while talking about all the things at the very limits of her lists. Her breathing is labored and I sense that it is really turning her on. She even moans at a couple of my taunts. We go around a bend in the trail and I stop her.

“Okay, little one. You know it’s your job to do whatever I say without question, right?”

She nods slowly.

“Show me your pussy. Display.”

She smartly turns around and leans forward on a tree… there is no question or hesitation in her response: she is ‘all in’ on this game. As she pulls up her dress, she shows that she wore no underwear as I had ordered. She spreads her cheeks to show me all of her sex, and I see it gleaming with wetness in the sunlight and already swollen.

I rub her labia gently, then with more force. “You like this! You naughty girl!” I then spank her a couple times on each cheek… I’m still not so sure about this ‘impact play’ stuff, but she moans when I do it and says “yes, Master. I’m your little slut, sir.”

I remember her playing at being a domme when we first started in that Marriott and how awkward it felt; at first, it had felt like she was just acting as a domme instead of feeling it. But nothing about this feels awkward… she is really and truly into what we were doing. Anne had said it was her natural attitude: I now believe it truly is.

I take my finger that’d been wetted from her pussy and hold it at the pucker of her ass then pull her collar backward so I am breathing on her neck. I whisper in her ear “just how much of a slut are you? How depraved are you? How much do you want me?” I reflected back on the conversation with Anne and realized she was right: what I was enjoying about this was simply that Tara was enjoying it. This would feel stupid if she was playacting, but instead, it was enormously erotic. I was really into it because I was meeting a need of hers. That was a real “aha” moment for me. I learn by doing.

“Goddess, I want you so bad!” I thought for a second, she’d called me ‘goddess’, then realize that it was just an exclamation, like if someone else had said ‘God’. “I can feel your cock inside me just from your presence. Your aura is big, Master, and strong. It is already owning me.” What an amazing thing to say… and kinda strange. I don’t know what it means that my ‘aura is big and strong,’ but I’m weirdly proud of that. “I want you. I need for you to take me.” At that, she tries to impale her ass onto my finger. I spank her again and pull the hem of her dress back down, setting her on the path again.

“That was pleasing, little one.” I can see her melt at those words. She wants my approval. “…but we’re going to need to work you up a lot more before you can earn release.” She whines a bit at that but just says “yes, Master.” And keeps walking.

It was no accident that I had loaded her with water before we left. I wanted her uncomfortable. As she walks, contemplating my silence, it creeps up on her and she starts to walk more carefully. I smile to myself, knowing the answer to the next question: “what’s wrong, little one?”

She looks down, apparently distraught. “mmm… nothing, Master.”

I look at her firmly and lift her chin. “Tell me. You have no secrets from me.”

She shuffles nervously and can’t meet my eyes. “M…master…

“I… I have to go to the bathroom. I have to pee. Bad.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“whh… here?”

“Right here. Right now. Let it flow.”

She looks uncomfortable, but girds her strength and pulls up her dress to squat “yes, Master.”

“I didn’t say you could squat. Stand.”

She stands. Looks at me uncomfortably and accepts what I’ve told her. She lets go of her dress hem. Then she makes the most adorable faces trying to will herself to pee standing up. And there it is, a small yellow stain starts to form on the front of her dress, slowly at first, but it turns quickly to a torrent, pouring down like a waterfall, soaking her skirt front and her legs and her shoes.

She finishes and breathes deeply, then gives me a look of innocence looking in my eyes and asks “did I do well, Master?”

At that moment, neither of us can stay in character and we both start laughing.

“You did well, little one.”

But quickly, she is back in her submissive mind. She loves my approval.

I compose myself and remind myself why I chose this act… that she did have some ‘watersports’ fantasy on her soft-limits/explore list and this humiliation is for her. “…but what must you always concern yourself with when you’re with me?”

She looks confused for a moment, then: “does… Master need to pee?”

I nod. She kneels on the path in front of me, then removes my cock from my pants. I try to think of football because there’s no way I can pee if I’m this hard… “may I make it soft, Master? May I relieve you of this tension so you can pee?” How does she always know what I’m thinking? I nod.

She plays with my cock, licking, stroking, flicking with her tongue. She starts to moan and it feels so good; her moan is a vibration that stimulates my sensitive spots. She smells of urine: which is somehow actually primal and sexy. It feels like a primitive, mindless ancestor of man is enjoying my member. She picks up the pace, now fondling my balls and choking on my cock. She’s not deepthroating herself today — I don’t think she has the angle, especially since he’s so excited he’s pointing straight up. Man, though, she gives head like no one I’ve ever had before. It’s amazing to feel how far she can get me so fast. I’m feeling animalistic and consider grabbing her head to fuck it hard, but that’s the old Damian thinking macho. Instead, I let this happen as her act of reverence to me. Again, like she can read my mind, she slows down the stimulation and makes it demanding and sensual, stroking and sucking and fondling.

It’s an act of worship. And my appreciation of what this means to her and to me is overwhelming. I jerk and cum: I think I’m cumming more from the primal act of mutual care more than from the physical stimulation. If she’d just looked at my dick with that emotional connection feeling, it might’ve made me cum, but add to that her expert stimulation and it was a whole different orgasm than I’d ever experienced. I made strange noises in the back of my throat marveling for an instant that they were so animalistic that anyone who heard them might wonder what creature was making them. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck!!!” I am breathless.

Tara milks me until I lose the erection, drinking and swallowing every drop as if it was liquid gold. Then she aims my semi-erect penis at her chest and says, “please, Master. Please pee on me. Flood me with your warmth. Bless me with your piss. I need it. I want it. Please…”

Here it is. Three weeks ago, I didn’t even really think this was ‘a thing.’ I’d heard of it but couldn’t conceive of two people actually choosing to do it except for a porn. But here we were, two otherwise normal, friend-like people, about to commit this act of depravity.

And it turned me on. And it turned Tara on. And it turned me on that it turned Tara on.

And I let it flow. I don’t mean to, but my stream is so forceful, I think it splattered into her face. She seems surprised at the strength of my flow, and then at the volume as I drench her dress. She directs my stream at her breasts so that the dress will stick to them, outlining their nakedness in the thin cotton. When I am done, she lovingly kisses the tip, licking off the last few drops, and tucks me into my pants.

“Thank you, Master.” I put my hand on her cheek as she looks up at me adoringly. Some part of me wants to check in with her and make sure that it was everything she’d hoped, but that’s not how this scene is supposed to work so I just smile and say “good girl.” The amazingly satisfied look in her eyes is really all the confirmation I need. So, I hook a leash to her collar and lead her back down the path. Her knees and her shoes are caked with urine-mud and her dress is a mess.

I’m first alerted to the other people coming when I hear a whimper of embarrassment from Tara. Looking, I see we’re about to meet a couple coming the other way. I whisper “just act like everything is normal” and she whimpers, but says “yes, master.” We both walk by the clearly curious couple as if this was completely ordinary and do the “hello, have good day” kind of polite chatter to their curious and possibly moderately concerned faces. As they continue up the path walking away behind us, we hear them laugh. And I hear Tara moan her titillation at her humiliation.

We finally stop at a stream and I encourage her to go for a swim, dress and all, which delights her for its relief. I’ve brought another pair of shoes and a towel for her… yes, this was part of the plan… and dry her wet dress as best I can when she emerges. Once her feet are dry, I help her into the new shoes.

“Thank you, Master. You’re kind.” She looks at me and says with her posture, her angles, where she holds her weight and mostly with her eyes, that she really wants my approval and a kiss.

“That’s a really good girl” and I kiss her forehead. I see her lip quivering with her pride and relief at my gesture.

I smile demonically “You don’t think I’m done with you, do you, little one? I hope you haven’t made other plans…?”

She smiles at me looking up into my eyes, but with her head bowed and says “No, Master. I hoped you weren’t done and you are my only plan until you’re done with me.”

I can’t help myself. I know I’m supposed to sound strict in this scene, but my heart takes over. I lift her chin to look directly into her eyes and say, “Tara, even when our assignation is over… I will never be done with you… in my heart” and I kiss her deeply, our tongues winding like snakes mating. When we finish, she pulls away, trembling. I’m not sure if it was from the kiss or if she is getting a chill from being wet outside, but she gives me the most enigmatic look. For once, I can’t name it and I can’t read it.

Fortunately, she’d taken an Uber to the park, trusting me to see her home. I appreciate that trust: it means a lot that she gives to me so completely. It helps me, yet more, to trust her. As I drive her to my place, I keep catching her in my peripheral vision looking at me. I would think it was a look, almost curious, but every time I’d turn my head, she had hers bowed submissively. I want to know…

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I… I… I’m sorry. It would be unprofessional of me. I’m hoping you haven’t forgotten the lecture…”

I nod, slowly, as I drive. Not wanting to consider that until night’s end. And I remember Anne’s admonition: “never do anything to hurt her… tread carefully… for both of your sakes. Care for her too.”

Tara, in her empathic wisdom, senses that I might be going down a mental path that could ruin the session and rescues me “Master, I can’t tell you how much I’m getting from this. You’re very good at it. You read me. You push all the right buttons. There were times today I could barely breathe. I am very much into what you’re doing and beg you to continue. Take me as you please. Use me. I am your slut. I am your worshipper. I am yours…”

Wow. Just wow. My heart beats quickly in my chest reflecting on how deep we already are. And I detect no playacting… no duplicity. She means what she is saying. Is ‘barely breathing’ what happens when someone goes into what Anne calls ‘subspace’? Did I do that? What a good feeling… even if I’m half right.

I take her to my apartment where she instantly strips naked. I order her to take a bath and do her hair while I strip, go to the kitchen and start cooking dinner. When dinner is done, I wonder what’s taking Tara so long, so I go in the bathroom, only to find her staring at herself in the mirror, her hair immaculate.

“What’s going on, little one?”

She looks at me, falls to her knees and bends her head down, saying “I completed the tasks you assigned me and was waiting for another… did I displease you, Master?”

Wow, this is so much. So totally compliant and submitting. I don’t know if I’m ready for this level of perfection… what if I mess up?

“Mmm… you worried me, little one. I now order you that if you ever find yourself lost again, to come to me and ask for more instructions. Okay?”

“Yes, Master.” She smiles at me as if it’s the kindest thing she’s ever heard.

“Come and eat.”

We go to the small dining table near the kitchen and I clip her leash back on and have her sit on the floor by my side as I eat. I chat with her casually and she engages me, incisively but very deferentially. She doesn’t comment on not being given food. When I finish, I cut up her serving into small pieces and put it on the floor in a bowl in front of her, pouring some of her favorite wine in another bowl next to that one. I pull her hair back into a hair tie and say, “you may eat.”

“Thank you, Master. It smells wonderful.” And she eats, almost moaning about how delicious it is and what a kind master I am.

I go to my room and return with a satchel. As she finishes, she looks to me, shreds of food and wine on her face and thanks me, awaiting her next instruction. I wipe her face gently and thoroughly, remove the hair tie and primp her hair, then command “hands and knees, face on the floor, ass up.”

She instantly obeys “thank you, Master.”

“Good girl.” I rummage in the bag and pull a couple things out. Then I pour the lube over the object in my hand.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me tonight. You’re going to submit to me and I’m going to control you. Any idea what I have here?”

“Mmm… n…no, Master. I guess… does it have a remote control?”

“Good guess, little one. And do you know where it goes?” I stroke her from clit to ass and back. Slowly. Man, is she wet!

She seems to have a hard time forming words as I tease her… her hips are moving and all she is able to say is something unintelligible that sounds like “nnnngggg…”

I pour some lube on her ass… it’s cold so she jumps instinctively and squirms as I move my finger around her little starfish.