[MF] Second installment of one of my experiences as a [M] Dom

This is the second installment of my story with C, the attorney. If you want to read the previous one, you can find it on my profile. Again, these are not fiction. These are completely true accounts of my life as a Dom. All the events are as true as I remember them, without embellishments or elaborations. Let me know if you enjoy it.

The courier showed up with the letter two days after I left her place. I didn’t think it would take too long. It was a very formal, large, manila envelope with all the typical attorney and legal appearances. Her letter was also very formal. She wrote just as I told her too. She was missing this, never realized how badly she needed it in her life, and she wanted to become my slave.

A SLAVE. Let that sink in. She was a card carrying feminist, completely independent woman, who wanted to serve, to be used, and to be of service to a man she just met. She was a complete mess since I left and could think of nothing but being owned by me.

I wrote her back and had some very specific tasks to complete before I would come back and make it official. She was to put her little attorney hat on and write out her own contract. Now, I don’t know if it’s just me or not, but I feel making a sub/slave draw up her own contract, putting down in ink what it is she wants to give up, what role she wants to submit to, makes it strike so much harder, makes it a bit more real and potentially, degrading.

I communicated my expectations of rules, rewards, and expectations and she agreed to them while constructing this contract. Once completed, I also required her to send me a copy, via courier and expect edits to the document. I received it, reviewed it, sent it back and gave her exactly 2 days to complete the changes. That would be a Saturday.

This is where our second meeting happens. She was to have a copy of the revised contract printed and available. I was going to visit her home again and gave her explicit directions on what I expected when I got there. She was to be wearing make-up as if she were going out for the night, dressed in stockings and heels. Nothing else. Her front door was to be unlocked, the contract on her dining room table, and she was to be kneeling on the other side of the door, hands presenting a pen, head down. I gave her a time to assume the position. I also told her I would not be as gentle as last time, that I would make her feel like the slave she wanted to be. She giggled with anticipation.

I showed up 15 minutes late, intentionally, to see if she would still be there. I got out of my car, walked up her little sidewalk and reached for the door. Zero resistance, not locked. I opened, and there she was, just as I told her to be. Presenting a pen, head down, black stockings, black heels. I was dressed professionally. Slacks, 5 button vest, button down shirt and tie. As I walked in, I studied her, making sure she wouldn’t look up at me unless told to, she complied. I circled her, glacially slow, while I unbuttoned my cuffs and rolled up my sleeves, contemplating what I wanted to do next.

I stopped beside her, without touching her, and said “This is your last chance to stop this from proceeding. Are you sure this is what you want?” She nodded her head.

“Speak slut. You will answer me with an audible response when I ask you a question. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She barely let me finish, “Yes, please sir. Provide this for me Sir.”

As soon as she finished her sentence, I took the pen she was still presenting, and I grabbed her by the back of her head by her hair forcefully and drug her to the table where the contract was laid out nicely. She struggled to keep up crawling to the table, perfectly.

I told her to stay there on all fours while I read the contract, confirming the changes were made. Sure enough, they were. Such a good little slave attorney. I made her wait there though, taking my tedious time getting her used to her new role, her new position. I signed the contract, right next to her signature which was already applied.

“Are you ready to start?” I asked.

“Please, Sir. Yes.” she could barely force out she was so excited.

I stood up, grabbed her by the hair again and literally drug her ass to the kitchen. This time on her back so she couldn’t crawl. I drug that slut all across her house. The house she bought by being such a successful woman attorney, she was now being drug through because she found her true role.

I threw her near the refrigerator and told her ass not to move. She didn’t move a muscle. I fumbled through her cupboard looking for a bowl. I finally found a mixing bowl that worked perfectly. I pulled several handfuls of ice from her automatic ice maker and sat it on the counter. I pulled her to her knees by the throat, and made her sit on all fours again. I took my belt off right in front of her eyes, so she knew what was coming.

“If you move, this is what’s going to happen.” I said, just before she felt the sting of my belt across her ass. She winced, she flinched and she groaned like she had never been hit before. Which she hadn’t, that that made me incredibly hard and turned on.

“Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”

I went back to the bowl, pulled out a few of them, and rubbed them on her asshole, just to tease it, then shoved 3 of them in her completely drenched pussy. This was the first time I saw the puddle she can make just from my pain. She flinched again from the ice and again, she felt the sting of my belt. This time a bit harder and you would have thought I branded her from the scream she yelled out. My dick got even harder.

“What are you?” I sternly demanded.
“Your slut Sir, Your slave.”

I mocked her from all the things I was doing to her, making her say, and she was even more wet. I did not stop there and made sure I used every last ice cube into her now owned pussy. She was a shaking mess…and well, she moved. So again, one last time, I really laid into her with my belt and she made the sexiest, loudest, cruellest shriek I have ever heard and I was so fucking hard.

I decided it was time to reward her with my cock. While she was still on all fours in her kitchen, I wrapped my belt around her neck and shoved my dick down her throat. I fucked her face like the slave she was. In a way she had never had her face fucked before. I held her head still with my belt, I pulled tight so she couldn’t breathe while I used her mouth. Gagging, slurping, making a complete wet mess of my cock, I knew she was struggling, which I loved.

My dick was wet enough and I moved behind her, making her still feel the cold tile under her hands and knees. Still holding on to my belt, I pulled her head back while her pussy gave up zero fight to my dick pounding into her in one stroke. I did not hold back and I knew she wanted to feel me bare. (We already covered the STD bases and any other safety needed). I slammed into that feminist slut pussy over and over again and she made the wildest, craziest, sexiest sounds I had ever heard, with every slap of her ass I gave her. These were not light spanks. I BEAT her ass. If you were to hear them, you’d think I was cutting her up, one piece at a time. Her makeup was ruined, her mascara was running down her face, and her ass was so red, you could see it on her brown ass. It’s not easy making a latina’s ass red, I succeeded.

Once I was ready to cum, I moved back around to her slut throat and fucked it just as hard as I fucked her pussy, long, deep and hard. I told her to open up and be ready for my cum. Just like a good slut, she nodded, I grabbed her by the throat, threw her ass back and drained my balls onto her face and down her mouth. It was the hardest cum I had ever had, the most cum I could remember every pumping out, and she was a complete mess. It did not all make it on her face, or in her mouth, so I made her lick up every drop that happened to be miss.

She was spent, she was exhausted, but she wanted more. She wanted me to stay the night.

I grabbed my belt again, still around her throat, and drug her back to the front door after I composed myself and put my clothes back on.

“Now, you are going to sit here and reply every minute of this in your head. And you are going to write about it. I want your recount of this night in my email by noon tomorrow. Am I fucking clear you slut?”

“Yes, Sir. May I please rub my pussy after you leave?”

“No, that is mine. You will never touch it unless you ask me first.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

I pulled her up to her feet, for the first time that night. Removed my belt from her neck and starred her right in the eyes while I put it back through my lips. Without warning, I grabbed her by the throat, pinned her to the wall and gave her the hardest slap across the face she had ever received.

“You’re my fucking property now you dirty fucking slut. You own nothing, not even your thoughts. They are mine. Do you fucking understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You will wear those same stockings to bed, and to work tomorrow, underneath gray slacks, white blouse, and gray blazer. I will want proof of this you whore.”

“You shall have it.”

“Goodnight.” as I left her standing there in the doorway. Exposed, wet, used, and birthed into her new role that she has so desperately needed.

I drove home replaying the night myself, wondering just how far I could take this, how far I could ruin her, already contemplating what the next session will be. All the way home, I had an evil, twisted smirk on my face.

Want to read about our next encounter? Let me know if you enjoyed this and I will continue adding more.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9ikjoz/mf_second_installment_of_one_of_my_experiences_as