My Benevolent Dictator

I’m thinking about you now.  About what you did to me.  The way you took control of me and held that power so masterfully.  The beautiful torture you created.
You warned me.  You told me it would be the most intense experience I’d ever have in my life.  You wanted me to trust you.  If I trusted you and allowed you to mold me, to create the scene, to surrender to your control, I’d have the most overwhelming and sexually satisfying experience of my life.
Your confidence and reputation convinced me to trust you.  You took command of any room you walked into.  Everyone gravitated to you.  I wanted more than to be a member of your circle.  I longed for your full attention and you gave it to me.  You seemed captivated by me and I was fully captivated by you.  I found myself wanting to follow your lead immediately and you were confident enough to take it.
You were very open about yourself.  You told me how you never formed serious relationships with women.  You explained that you were done with that part of your life.  However, you did develop bonds with woman.  You established trust with women.  You needed trust to be able to do what you did.
I didn’t want anything serious either.  I had lived that life, had raised children and felt like I had completed that journey.  I was restless and needed excitement.  I needed to do things I’d never done before but had always been intrigued by.  Everything about you, from the way you held yourself, to the way you spoke, indicated you’d provide me with a little excitement.
And so you piqued my interest, when you said, “…to be able to do what I do.”  I asked the obvious, “What do you do?”
“I show women how rewarding and gratifying being completely submissive is.  Most say it’s the by far and away the best sexual experience of their lives.”
I instantly wanted to be one of those women.  I didn’t yet know exactly what you had in mind, but I wanted to be the focus of all your attention.  I wanted to be one of those women who had the best sexual experience of their lives.  My ex-husband had been extremely vanilla and unwilling to try new things. I wanted something different, something better.  And I wanted it to be with you.
I wanted to know more and so you told me.  Your stories excited me.  You dated me, you gained my trust, you teased me with your kisses and touches, and you stoked my fantasies.  You waited for me to beg you for it before you agreed to allow me to submit to you.
I was ready.  I spent so much time fantasizing about it that I could barely make it through the day.  I needed it.  I needed the earth-shattering release you promised to provide.  The anticipation alone could make me cum.
As I stepped up to your door and rang the doorbell, my pulse raced and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.  When you answered the door, my stomach dropped.
You smiled, pulled me toward you and said, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
You kissed me and sparked my overwhelming need for you and I returned your kiss with force, whimpering with need against your lips.
You broke away from me and smiled smugly.  “I thought we’d chat and have a few drinks and loosen up, but it looks like you can’t wait.”
I murmured my agreement.
You adopted a sterner tone, “Get into the house.”
You led me to the basement stairs and ordered me to go down them.  I expected to see a dungeon.  A playroom with tons of toys and equipment.  Instead, I saw nothing but a plain white wall, illuminated with a spotlight.
I walked down the stairs carefully.  I was wearing spiked healed boots with my curve-hugging dress and was afraid I might fall down the narrow stairs.
I managed to reach the bottom and looked around.  Outside of the illuminated circle in which I stood, was only darkness.   The rest was cloaked in darkness.
“Stay here,” you said as you receded into the darkness.
I stood awkwardly for a few moments before receiving my next command.
“Face forward and undress.  Keep the boots on.”

My heart beat wildly.  I was both exhilarated and nervous about my performance and what would happen next.

 I squinted against the spotlight.  I couldn’t see you.  I could only hear your firm demands coming from somewhere behind it.
You said nothing as I unzipped my dress and let it fall to my feet.  I looked into the darkness, not entirely sure where you were as I let my bra fall on top of my dress and slid my panties off.
I stood there naked for you.  I hoped you were pleased.
“Play with yourself.”
I started to sit, but you wouldn’t let me.
“No, you will stand.”
 I felt so exposed and vulnerable.  I was nervous and yet aroused.  I wanted to perform well.  I wanted to please you.
You stepped from the darkness and stood a few short feet in front of me.
“I want you to look me in the eyes as you play with yourself.”
Your voice was stern, your expression blank.  I looked into your eyes and began rubbing my clit.
Self-consciousness prevented me from feeling true arousal, but you knew what to do.
“Don’t stop, don’t look anywhere else but forward.”
You ran your hands over my breasts and gently stroked my nipples with your thumbs.  My self-consciousness left me.  I could only focus on the pleasure-the pleasure you brought me and the pleasure I brought myself.
I felt something clamp onto my right nipple, triggering a rush of pleasure and illiciting a moan from myself.  I inhaled sharply and bent forward when I felt the second clamp on my nipple.
You took your forearm against my neck and pushed me against the wall to force me upright.
“Keep going.  We’re not starting until I see that your pussy is soaking wet for me.”
You applied a little more pressure to my throat.  I loved the power you held over me.  I wanted to submit to you.  I wanted to earn your full domination.  My moans grew louder as I neared climax.  You let go ahead of my neck before I came.
“You’re ready.”
You left me standing there panting, desperate for your touch, for relief of the pressure that had built.  You receded into the darkness and left me craving more.
I heard the table before I saw it. I heard the squeaking of the wheels as you rolled it out of the darkness into the light.  It was a rectangular, metal table, with a head rest.  I knew I was meant to lie on it.  My arousal became almost unbearable.  I needed to experience your full control.
“Get on the table.”

I did as I was told on shaky legs.  You placed cuffs on my ankles.  The cuffs were connected to long chains that you then hooked to something on the bottom of the table.  You slowly pulled the chains, causing my legs to spread further and further apart.   You stopped when I whimpered in pain and then you pushed me a little further.

You cuffed my hands to the table and tied the nipple clamps to the table.
“Struggle against the chains.”
I did as I was told and felt my nipples pull too, causing me to whimper from the mixture of pleasure and pain.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any more, you finally touched me.  You smacked my clit, causing short shockwaves of pleasure to shoot through my body.
Then, you began rubbing my clit.  Desperate moans escaped my lips.  I came almost too soon.  Relief and pleasure washed over me.  I felt it in every part of my body.
But you weren’t done with me. You didn’t give me a break.  Instead you strapped a hitachi vibrator to my clit.  You let down the head rest and my head fell.  You pushed on my jaw, forced my mouth open and slipped your dick inside.  You pushed down my throat until I gagged and stayed there for a moments, allowing me to gag and drool.  The blood rushed to my head.
You didn’t take it easy on me.  Not at all.  You continued to jab deep into my throat.  You steadily increased you tempo.  Drool dripped my mouth.  I gagged repeatedly.  Tears began streaming down my face.
I surrendered everything to you, my mind and my body.   I wanted to serve you, my master.  Being your perfect slave gave me such a thrill.  I wanted you to fuck my face and I trusted you to know how much I could take.  I knew you would show me what a perfect little fuck toy I could be for you.
The force you used, the discomfort I felt, was balanced against the pleasure I felt between my legs and the sharp pleasure-tinged pain in my nipples caused by struggles against the chains.
You stopped and slapped my cheek after you pulled out.  I found that I loved the degradation.  I wanted to be used and humiliated.  You must have sensed it, because you smacked me again with a little more force.
The pressure was building between my legs again.  My screams made it sound as if I was in misery, but they were the screams of a woman in such ecstasy that she could no longer control her emotions.
My head still hung off the table and I couldn’t see what you were doing, but I could feel it.  I felt it as you started fucking me with what must have been a dildo.  It was much too large to be human.
You were so rough with it.  Such intense pleasure triggered my emotions to run wild.  I cried.  I cried and apologized for crying.  My moans became screams.  I begged you to stop.  I didn’t know if I could handle the release.  I didn’t use my safe word and you knew what was best for me.
You took me to a height of pleasure I had not known existed.  My orgasm was like explosion.  I felt and heard my juices falling onto the floor.  My chin shook.  Tears rolled down my face.  I kept repeating, “Oh my God.”
You knew I’d had enough of the table.  You unhooked me and tried to make  me stand, but I couldn’t.  I collapsed into a heap onto the concrete floor, but you weren’t finished with me.  You flipped me onto my stomach with a merciless roughness.  You lifted me onto shaky knees and took me from behind.  You held me up by my hair, leaving me unable to reach the ground to balance myself with my arms.  You growled into my ear as you fucked me harder and harder.  I moaned the deep, guttural moan of a woman who could take no more.
Or at least I thought I couldn’t.  The sound of your desperate grunting, the affirmation that being inside me could bring you so much pleasure, in turn brought me pleasure.  You increased the tempo of your thrusts until I was screaming.  You yanked my head back even further and snarled, “You’re such a fucking slut.”  You rammed hard and deep, no longer seeming to care about my pleasure, but instead going after what you wanted, which only turned me on more.  I wanted you to use me to get off.  I savored that feeling of being used.  I came one final time right before you did.
You let go of me, allowing me to drop onto the floor.  I laid there panting as you stood.
You threw my clothes at me.
“Get dressed.  It’s time for you to go.  Next time, I’ll string you up and flog you.  You will come when I summon you.  You will drop everything and you will come.”
“Yes sir.”
You walked up the stairs and left me alone on the floor.  I summoned the strength to get dressed and leave.  I wanted nothing more than to please you.  I wanted to experience your domination again.
You promised me a next time.  I anxiously await your command.


  1. Promises. Promises. Nicely played out on the page.

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