Now that I look at my life, it is possible that I always knew that I’m was little different when it comes to sex. And when I started to enter this world I discovered that I’m really not.
I discovered that, because I try to control everything in my life, in sex, that really doesn’t happen. In sex I don’t want to control. In sex I want to be used. I want to give everything I can to my master. I want to be his. I want my hair pulled, my ass red from his hand and to see a grin on his face. I wanted, more than anything, to be desired.
But then again… I’ve never met someone who looked at me that way. Someone who desperately had to have me. To be at his service, at his every call. I’ve never met someone who could make me wet just by touching my hand and looking at me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve felt horny before. But not like this.
I’ve met people who knew this man. I’ve met a lot of his friends and I even heard stories about him. Never really met him than for more than thirty seconds and I didn’t give him much thought at the time. For two years I lived my life without that presence and without knowing that I needed it. I lived in a ignorant bliss. I thought I was happy and had everything figure it out. I thought I knew what I liked. I thought a lot of things…
And then, there was an event.
Far away from my city and I went with a friend. We were just the photographers. His friends that I’ve previously met were there, nice as ever. I must admit that I actually sometimes enjoy being in places where no-one really knows me. No one knows who I am, my backstory, my baggage, all the dark and twisty things that do live inside me. I’m just a stranger, I’m just someone who might or not be actually a very interesting person, I’m just someone that people can get to know. I like the attention and that might not be a good thing to know about me, but I do. I like to notice how someone is trying to get something else from me. That slight flirt that actually might even be confused with genuine niceness. All of that gives me confidence, something that I grew up without and probably the reason why I crave it so much.
In the middle of all the noise, all the alcohol, the music and the people, there he was. His beard with some white hairs was the first thing I notice. He was dressed casually, clothes that are usually worn by younger guys and that don’t really make you wonder what is under it. It made him look younger that his actually age, that I thought was around thirty-eight.
That night we might have talked for five minutes. Five minutes where I also didn’t give him much thought. What was wrong with me. Why didn’t I gave him a better look? He was clearly a very busy man. Everyone wanted a piece of him and somehow he got the time to talk to me and me thinking he was just being nice. He was the big shot.
A couple of months later, when the last thing on my mind was that man, I received a message. A innocent one, I had no idea what was coming. Never in my life I thought I was that innocent. I thought I had already learned to see when someone was interested in me. Maybe he was different. We started talking and I realized how he had annalized me during the three day event. How he told be he thought I had grown as a woman. The conversations started to get hot and I started to know him and notice how alike we actually are. He told me he was a dom. I always wonder about that life but truth be told, never really looked into it in a serious way. After some time he told me how much he would like me to be his sub. He told me and explained how everything worked, told me a lot of things about his life and I told him about mine and asked all the questions I could. I wanted to know more and more.
For some reason, I refused his advances for months. Maybe because I felt insecure. Maybe because I really liked all that attention and just love the flirting part of all of this… maybe because yes, I was really curious to know how he was in bed and how “bad” he could be. Would I like the experience? But also, was I going to be good enough for him? After all the active sex life he had, after all the – over the top women that got to be with him – would I be able to give him something that he wouldn’t forget? I’m not proud of that, but the truth is, all of those questions were in fact, on my mind.
But in the middle of all of this, you know… a relationship between a dom and a sub is more than a – only in bed – kind of relationship. I was to be at his every need at all times. If he wanted a naked photo of me, I would have to send him a photo. For some reason, I imagined myself always disobeying him, maybe just so I could see his serious face and ear him say how much he has so spank me now, how a bad girl I am and how I have to bend over on his lap.
I really liked to make him feel frustrated. To see how much he wanted to punish me and just couldn’t because I kept refusing his proposal. I also saw how he was used to get everything – and everyone – that he wanted. And how insane it make him everytime I said no.
I wanted to feel special but I was also scared to be just one more for him. How do women who do that have that much confidence in themselves? I wish I was that confidence.
I must say that the distance between us also made me feel more safe. Not that I thought I was in any kind of real danger… no. But possibly because it made everything feel less real and because of that… less scary.
But then, one day…
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ajp4e4/mf_25f_finding_myself_am_i_a_sub_part1