“Wittgenstein the Sub: Fantasy, Gender Subversion, Power and Overwriting in My Graduate School Experience” [Fm, bdsm, Fdom, Msub]

(The following is a true story in that a dominant woman I was seeing at the time demanded I write her an erotica based on her relationship when I should have been writing my thesis. This was the product.)

CRACK! The slap struck like the first lightning bolt in a summer storm, the one that seems to change the atmosphere from a sense of foreboding possibility to one of certain catharsis. The lingering sting radiated down his body from his jaw, tingling synapses from the nape of his neck to the tips of each toe. It was a slap akin to that delivered by a physician to a newborn to welcome them into a new world, in this instance one where he had ceased to exist as he had thought of himself- overachiever, perfectionist, occasional control freak- and was reborn as the pet of his incredible Mistress.

Mistress, oh yes. He had been so lost in the pleasure of the thought of reconstituting his existence as an object for her pleasure that he had lost count of the spankings. The smack was more corrective than sadistic, aimed at grounding his consciousness when she had correctly intuited that it had been serenely floating somewhere above the flesh and bone of his naked body, laid across her warm thighs to receive her punishment for having kept her up a few nights earlier. Grounded again, he felt back in his body. He noticed that his cock had swelled with the slap, a Pavlovian reflex to pain that she liked to stimulate when he was inside her. He felt it press against her thighs, aching slightly with the tension built up by what was going on weeks without release.

“Well, now look what you’ve done… we have to start over!” He didn’t mind, the smacks felt good, but he could hear that despite being slightly bemused she was unlikely to accept him losing count again. Training was training, after all. And though he liked to leave his normal neuroses at her door, tucked into the pockets of his clothes that he had given her according to her strictly enforced entrance protocols, his whole frame of consciousness pushed him towards thoughts driven by one logic alone: please his Mistress. Early in their relationship he had been doing research on Wittgenstein and practice theory, a coincidence yielding one of those happy synchronicities when he found a quote by the thinker that perfectly encapsulated his feelings towards her.

“This is how it strikes me. When I obey a rule, I do not choose. I obey the rule blindly.”

He did not choose to follow his Mistress’s orders, he did not have to think about them or weigh their pros and cons. Her commands felt more like realizations of his own subconscious, like she was only summoning something that had been in him all along and needed her keen sense to recognize, realize, and actualize. So this was how it struck him, too.

SMACK! And that was how she struck him, her hand slightly cupped as it clapped against the muscles of his ass. “One, thank you Mistress!” he cooed, his muscles shocked with minute spasms as she dragged her fingers over the spot she had just reddened. She played with the timing of each, letting him savor the anticipation of each slap as she worked her way through the last set of ten. By the end he was biting his lower lip, his whole body electrified and his cock somehow seeming even stiffer than it had already been.

She ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, letting him stew in the swirl of endorphins coursing through his body. She bent over him, bringing her mouth to his ear. “Such a good boy,” she murmured, the moist warmth of her breath wrapping her words giving them a sense of weight as she barely brushed the lobe of his ear with her lips. “Thank you, Mistress” he moaned, his voice stretching out the “s”s on Mistress. Just when he had caught his breath, he heard her rustling around her drawer, feeling the tips of her nipples graze the flesh on his back as she leaned over. Returning to an upright posture, his sense of hearing, heightened by his blindfold, allowed him to hear her pop the top of the plastic lube bottle she had removed.

He felt the cool slickness of the lube dripping down his crack from his tailbone as she drizzled it from above. She took a finger and traced its path, rubbing it in around his asshole and gently pushing around the outside. It gave the sensation of softening the tissue, relaxing his muscles and allowing her to push the finger in up to her first knuckle. He purred gently, tensing his pelvis to grind his cock into the smooth skin of her thighs even more. She apparently liked feeling his stiff member, as she cheerily ordered him to flip over and lie with his back on the bed. She eased her hand between his legs, a finger tracing gentle circles around his ass while she arranged herself on all fours at a perpendicular angle. She began at the base of his balls, running her tongue from base to tip, her exhalations tickling the sensitive flesh just before she slid her mouth around the head. He could feel her tongue running along the ridged head, the inside of her cheeks gently caressing the shaft as she lowered her head down his cock. Her finger was deeper in him now, moving gently in and out of his lubed asshole. She pressed her lips to the base of his cock and held her pose, breathing through her nose as he felt completely ensconced in warmth, flicks of her tongue against the top of his balls sending jolts up his spine.

His hands began to wander up her back, tracing her spine up through her neck before grasping a fistful of hair and gently working her throat over his cock. He could feel her tense up involuntarily, her cool confidence belying her body’s rejection of the intrusion. He could feel her breath around his cock as it throbbed in the back of her throat, as if it were soaking up the moisture in the back of her throat like a sponge. She choked up after a few seconds, a muffled gag escaping her pursed lips as she pulled herself off. A tear slowly rolled from her eye, down her cheek and rested at her jaw. She ordered him to open his mouth before grabbing just above the lower jaw with her right hand, fingers pulling his mouth open as she held herself over and the tear fell into his gaping mouth. Thick warm spit, summoned from the back of her throat by his cock, followed as she hocked it into his still open mouth.

“Your turn, cub. Time to show me what a good little slut you are!” She hopped off the bed and got her new strap-on from a hook in the closet. She commanded him to come over on his knees and hold it for her as she stepped into the harness and shimmied down to his level rather than bringing it up to her hips. They were now eye to eye, him on his knees and she on the balls of her feet. She had a twinkle in her eye, betraying a genuine excitement and caring for what she was about to do to him. She gave him a reassuring wink, before standing upright and stepping on the back of his neck. His face now pressed against the floor, he heard her run her fingers around the rubber of the strap-on. “It’s so dry! That won’t do at all,” she teased. Off came the foot, only to be replaced by her hand pulling him to his knees by his hair. “Are you ready to show me what you’ve learned?”

He nodded eagerly, opening his mouth to accept her gift. She rested the tip on his lips, letting him run his tongue around its tip. She pulled her hips back, a string of saliva arcing down between the tip of his tongue and the black rubber. “Ooo, sexy!” she pronounced. “You’re such a good boy. Now show me how much you can do for me.” She gently rested both hands on the back of his head as she thrust her hips slowly towards his face, pushing the rubber dildo down his throat. He had showed her that he didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but it still took him some effort to control his breathing and not panic. He was learning to accept giving up control, learning to cease the psychological and occasionally physical struggle against surrender that had been inculcated in him by his childhood understanding of masculinity. He soon got the hang of it, looking up lovingly at his Mistress who caressed his face gently as she throat-fucked him. “Now I’m going to make you my bitch, ok?” she asked, knowing that he’d nod but just wanting to show her affection. She tightened her grip on his head and began to thrust harder and deeper, the rubber tip now jabbing into the back of his throat with each thrust. Tears began to well in his eyes, but his eyes remained open and fixed on the understanding and loving glint of his Mistress’s eyes. She was enjoying her self so much, moaning slightly and throwing her head back to roll around as she felt the harness press against her when wedged against his throat.

“Inspection!” she ordered, coming back into her body from a few moments of relaxed floating. She stepped back and he came forward on all fours, holding the pose but tilting his head to rub excess spit from her oral examination on his arm. She leaned over him from above, hands running over his hips, dancing down to his wrap around his stiff cock, then grabbing the base of his balls and pulling gently down away from his body. She spit into his asshole, before popping the lube bottle back open and applying its contents liberally to his asshole and the black dildo. She rearranged herself behind him, in front of her closet door with the mirror. One hand still wrapped around his cock, the other began teasing the dildo around his opening. It felt cold with the lube, but her warm hand around his swollen balls created a nice juxtaposition that made him more aroused than he had ever been. “Head down. Close your eyes and focus on your feelings. Describe them to me as I enter you.” He obliged, lowering his head, closing his eyes, and slightly arching his back to allow easier access to his ass.

She had her other hand ease the tip of the dildo into his ass, gently pushing deeper and deeper. It felt unfamiliar and he could feel himself tensing up. She felt this too, and gently ran her hand along his back, slowing his breathing. “Good boy, good boy,” she murmured softly. He felt himself opening up to her, overwhelmed by a wave of feelings that he had very little experience with. His balls felt as swollen as ever, but the feeling was heightened by a slowly expanding warmth inside of him. It pooled in the muscles of his lower back slightly tensed by their arch, before trickling up his spine. It felt like a ball of energy followed her hand around his back, all emanating from the tip of the dildo getting gently deeper inside him. He focused on relaxing his muscles, feeling ever inch of her and all the sensations that came with it. He began easing his weight back on his hips, pushing himself onto the dildo with each of her gentle thrusts. “Good boy! You like this!” she exclaimed, genuinely pleased. He wanted to say, “Yes, Mistress! I love it!” but what came out was a deep wordless groan, his tongue slackened along with most of his muscles. They seemed to have given all their surplus energy to his brain so he could feel each and every sensation.

She could sense this and felt his breathing get faster as she began to fuck him deeper. His moans became more and more frequent, and louder too. He was like a virgin and she was taking him for the first time. He had said before that she made him feel like he was in high school again, with all the confused and exciting sexual charge those times connoted. She was feeling that now for the first time, genuinely thrilled and taking such deep pleasure out of a novel activity that she had always known was there but never partook in. A long moan from him snapped her from her thoughts and it was then that she realized he had raised his head and opened his eyes, staring into her eyes through the mirror. In his eyes was a look so removed from the pains and troubles of this world, finally indulging his own desires and pleasures and allowing himself to take pleasure and subjugate his egoistic nature. It was a look of extreme gratitude, a look of supreme contentment, and his eyes began to scrunch as his orgasm welled from deep in him.

SMACK! She spanked his ass like earlier, like she had made him do when he had fucked her ass. The little pain pushed him over the edge and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his cock began shooting his load down in thick strands. She reached around and jerked him as he came, her grip slickening with the cum seeping between her fingers. She caught what she could in her hand, which was no small amount considering the extreme volume of the ejaculate. She then gently pulled out of him, and demanded he turn to face her. Still on their knees, she rubbed the cum on her face and neck as he stared into her eyes. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, before pulling his head to her collarbone and having him lick up his load. As she closed her eyes, she felt like the goddess he felt she was.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/87y7jm/wittgenstein_the_sub_fantasy_gender_subversion