You had just had coffee with an old friend. She had been out of town for a few months, so you were reconnecting, listening to her stories and updating her on yours. It was nice to meet her, it really was. But still, you couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy at listening to her crazy stories. Not that you’d actually do any of that stuff, I mean, it’s crazy. But still, it would be nice to be a little bit more adventurous, wouldn’t it?
It was getting late, and it was a Saturday night. Across the street a group of teens were laughing, or possibly fighting. It was hard to tell. No, you didn’t want to be crazy. Your phone rang, and you answered right away, thankful for the distraction.
“Hello,” a male voice on the other end said. “I admire you. I just wanted you to know this”
“What?” You said. “Who is this?”
“It’s not important,” the voice said. “You have the most beautiful eyes I have seen, And when you’re thinking intensely, narrowing your eyes a bit, yes, exactly like that. It’s so incredibly beautiful”
“What?” You said again.
“I just wanted to thank you,” the voice said again. “You’re a wonderful person”
With that the call ended.
Over the following days you struggled with trying to figure out how you felt about the call. On the one hand, it was an invasion of your privacy, and this person clearly knew who you were. Did you have a stalker? On the other hand, he was very nice to you. Not a lot of people were that nice. Thinking about it, it was a very nice voice too.
But people are only that nice when they want something, right? So why had he just hung up after he said those things? Surely he would call again. He really hoped he wouldn’t. It would be better if he didn’t. Much better. Surely.
It was a week later that he called again. You had a terribly boring weekend, where all your plans fell through, so you ended up just binge watching that squid game show on netflix. On Saturday night you indulged in a glass of wine and some dark chocolate as you lay in bed reading a bunch of erotic stories you found on amazon.
It had just started to get really good when you were interrupted. The two-thirds-empty wine glass was on your nightstand, the chocolate eaten, and your hand was idly stroking over the place between your legs, not really masturbating yet, but getting there.
“Are you having a good time,” the voice asked over the phone.
“What?” you asked to buy time to compose yourself.
“I asked if you are having a good time. It’s never fun to have to stay home when you had planned to go out and enjoy yourself,” the voice said.
“No, it’s not,” you said, unsure what to say or do.
“Did you like that story?” The voice said. “I have to say, I found it a bit bland. He is a good writer, but he’s not pushing the fantasy far enough.”
“What are you talking about?” You said.
“The story you’re reading, the one about the well-muscled barbarian and the princess,” the voice said. “I understand that the idea of strong arms can carry a lot of a story, but I think you’d like it better if he was a little more creative with his power.”
“What? How?” You said.
“I just want you to feel good. I know that the chocolate goes excellent with the wine, the dark and bitter filling the spaces where the sour can’t reach and complimenting that fruity sting at the front of your tongue. But I want your story to do more than just slightly titillate. I want you to read words that make you moan out loud, that create shivers traveling along your spine and make your hips move by themselves.” His voice was almost a whisper now. And it did all the things he said. Almost. You just managed to stop a moan from escaping your lips.
“Who are you? What do you want?” You said after a short silence.
“I just want to make you feel good.” The voice said again, this time dragging the word out very long.
“How do you know what I am reading?” You said, trying to sound angry and confrontative.
“You love it. It makes you feel seen. It makes you feel cared for.” The voice said. “In fact, when I hang up, you will close the computer, and then you will close your eyes. You will think about this conversation, and even though it was brief, it will make you feel good. So good that you will start touching yourself. You will think about my voice, imagine me whispering in your ear, telling you that I am going to do all the things that you dream of. The things you dream of but would never admit. And you will imagine me doing these things to you as you rub your pussy.”
“What the fuck! No!” You said.
“Don’t worry, I will be in touch. Now make yourself feel good.” The voice said, and then the call was over.
The call left you with an unreal feeling. You were confused. The mix of emotions was very hard to sort through. You were outraged, sure. What he was doing was not ok. A rational part of you kept trying to fight to reach the surface.
But you felt warm and fuzzy, your brain didn’t quite work properly. It was hard to think. So instead of trying to think, you just took a sip of your wine, then went back to reading your story. To your annoyance though, you found yourself wishing for more, wanting the characters in the story to go further, it was all very mild and bland. You only managed to read a couple of pages before closing the laptop and putting it to the side.
Instead, you closed your eyes and imagined them going the way you wanted them to go. The barbarian stopped being gentle with his large, strong arms. He didn’t free the princess from her bonds when he rescued her, instead he left her bound as he fondled her. She did not melt into his arms. Instead, she begged him to stop. He put a blindfold over her eyes and stepped away from her, leaving her tense, not knowing what would happen next.
At this point you were rubbing your clit furiously, the fantasy was so exciting to you. He was no longer a hot, strong body. Now he was disembodied control in the dark, a voice telling you how to feel, telling you how sexy your helplessness was. Then you could feel his hand, stroking your body, feeling your breasts, down along your stomach, down between your legs. You were so close to cumming, and you could feel it was going to be a big one.
You were interrupted by the phone ringing again. You were just going to let it ring, though, not letting it disturb you. But even as you thought that, your arm reached out to pick up the phone and answer.
“Yes?” You answered. It came out as a moan and you could feel yourself blushing.
“Do you want to cum?” The voice said.
“Yes,” you moaned, too far gone to be outraged.
“Are you rubbing your pussy?” He asked.
“Yes,” you said.
“Are you thinking of me as you rub your pussy?” He said.
“No,” you said, trying to hold on to some shred of dignity.
“Stop touching yourself,” he said.
“No,” you said again, but your hand stopped and removed itself from your pussy.
“I am going to give you two rules. You may not think that you will accept or obey them right now, but I know you will,” he said.
“Rules? What?” You said
“You may only touch yourself if you are thinking of me while you do,” he said. “And you can only cum if you have my permission.”
“Your permission?” You said, trying to muster the annoyance and outrage you should feel. But it was still far away, deep inside.
“Do you want to touch yourself?” He said.
You didn’t answer him. Instead, you put your hand back between your legs, in a small act of defiance. It felt good, and a small moan escaped your lips. He didn’t say anything, so you kept doing it, letting a louder moan out, waiting for his reaction. You thought about cumming, but still couldn’t quite let yourself do it yet.
“That was rude,” he said, finally. “Slap your pussy. Ten times.”
“But,” you said without thinking. “I was thinking about you!”
“Still,” he said. “It was rude.”
Your hands did it just as he said it. What was it about this mans voice that made your body react like this? The first few slaps you did it softly, carefully. Doing what he asked turned you on, you could at least admit that much to yourself at this point. But you didn’t really want to hurt yourself.
“Good girl,” the voice said after four slapps. His voice was still stable and controlled, but you could tell that he was straining a bit now, he was probably very turned on too. That thought made your breath catch in your throat, and it made your hand slap much harder. The pain was sharp now, spreading out to your thighs and up your stomach, and it resonated with the rising pulsing emanating from your clit.
“That’s it,” the voice said, even more strained now. “You’re doing very well.”
You finished the ten strokes with heavy breath, letting your hand remain between your legs, remaining still as the rest of your body was shivering and twitching.
“Now cum for me,” the voice said, and your fingers started moving again as your body twitched and convulsed, your eyes rolled over and everything went dark for a second. It was the most powerful orgasm you ever had.
“You’re so wonderful,” the voice said. “You make me happy.”
“Ahh,” you said, as it was the only noise you were able to make at the moment.
“Now you should sleep. I’m sure it will be a very nice and deep sleep. You’ve earned it,” the voice said. “I will be in touch. Goodbye and goodnight.”
With that you fell asleep, and you did indeed get a very deep, and good, sleep that night.
The following days, you did your best not to think about what had happened. One one hand, you were outraged. Not only because of what he said to you and what he must have done to know the things he seemed to know, but also because of how you had responded to him.
Any time you started to think about it, a smile crept onto your face for a while, but it always melted away after a while, replaced by the blush of shame. You resolved not to respond to him the next time he contacted you.
It turned out not to be a phone call. You were in a meeting as your phone dinged, notifying you of a text message. Seeing that it was from him was very distracting, and even though you didn’t open it during the meeting, it made you distant and unfocused. But when the meeting ended and you got to open the text, you were confused for a second. Then you were shocked. Again, you decided not to think about it. “Sunday 19.30. Henry st. 193,” was all it said.
You were not going to go, of course. You didn’t even respond to the message. Still, you found yourself thinking about it. Especially one time, in the shower, it was very nice to think about. On Sunday morning, another message arrived. “You will wear the short pink dress that you only wore that one time. No panties, no bra.”
Reading it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell why, but you went to your closet, looking for the pink dress. It was there. You wanted to know if it would still fit you, but you managed to resist the impulse to put it on. Just then, you got another message. “Also, bring the fuzzy handcuffs that your friends once gave you as a joke. You know the ones.” You shook your head, reading that. But at the same time, you were becoming aware of the fact that you would go. You would go, you would wear what he told you to wear and you would bring the handcuffs. The realization sent a bolt of electricity surging through your body, making your knees weak, forcing you to sit down and concentrate on your breathing for a long while.
A few hours later, you were walking down Henry Street, trying to find the number 193. It felt strange, not wearing any panties under your short skirt. You felt naked. You were trying to decide if you hated it or loved it when you got another message. “The door is open. You will enter the house.”
You found the house marked with the number 193. There was nothing special about it. It almost made you disappointed. You had imagined it looking menacing, dark and looming. Like a haunted house. But it was just a regular, boring house. Another message: “Inside, you will see a chair. You will pick up the black ribbon laying on it. You will tie it around your head like a blindfold. Then you will handcuff yourself with your hands behind your back. You will then stand in front of the chair.”
You stood on the front porch, considering if you could turn back now. Up until this point it had been fun, titillating and exciting, but all things considered, it hadn’t really been dangerous. This, you thought, was actually dangerous. But as you were trying to convince yourself to turn around, you found that it made you even more excited, and your legs again moved of their own accord, waking to the door.
The inside of the house met more of your expectations. With the exception of the chair you had been told was there, it was empty. No other furniture, and nothing on the walls. The light was dim, five weak lights in the ceiling giving the room a soft yellow light. It gave an eerie feeling. The chair looked comfortable, though. You went up to it and picked up the black silk band that was neatly folded on top of it. You picked your fuzzy handcuffs out of your handbag and put it on the floor beside you. Then you tied the band around your head, blocking your vision completely. You fumbled with the handcuffs for a while, trying to get them on, but eventually you were standing, as instructed, in front of the chair, blindfolded and with your hands cuffed behind your back. Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that the door behind you was still unlocked.
You stood there for what seemed like an eternity. It might have been an hour, but it could have been five minutes, you had no idea. But when the voice came, you were so startled that you almost fell over.
“Oh my god, you are so beautiful,” the voice said from somewhere in front of you. Probably sitting in the chair, you thought. How did he manage to sit down without being heard?
You kept standing as you had before, nothing changed. But at the same time, everything changed. You stood there in the silence for what seemed to be another eternity, just waiting for him to speak again. The wait was excruciating.
Then, out of nowhere, you felt his hands on your hips. You jerked, shocked by the sudden touch, your heart suddenly beating way too hard and fast. You managed to keep standing still, even though it took all your focus and concentration to do so.
“Shush, it’s ok, don’t worry,” he said with the kind of exaggerated calm you would use to soothe a horse or a dog. It did not make you calm.
“Yes, there you go, very nice,” he said, his voice becoming more and more of a whisper as he spoke.
His hands lingered at your hips for a while, then he moved them upwards, following the exposed skin of your sides, slowly caressing you. You couldn’t help but gasp as he reached your chest, brushing your breasts with his fingers before taking hold of the underside of your top and pulling it over your tits, leaving you exposed. Then his fingers were on your exposed nipples, sending bolts of electricity down your body, making it very difficult to keep standing still. You could feel something wetter close around them now. He must be sucking at them. You could not stop a low moan from leaving your lips. At the same time, you could feel his hands move down your sides again, following the curve of your hips and tracing the fabric of your short skirt. He lifted his mouth from your nipples as he took hold of the hem of your skirt, pulling it up over your hips, leaving your naked pussy exposed too.
There was nothing more for a while. You could only assume he sat down in the chair again, just sitting there, watching you. While you desperately wished he would touch you again, the thought of him sitting there, watching you was terribly exciting. And it again made you very aware of the unlocked door behind you.
Then there was a hand on your throat, choking you. You gasped for air, surprised by the sudden attack. His other hand was on your pussy now, quickly finding your clit and rubbing it as he choked you, your body screaming for air as the pleasure from his rubbing quickly built. Then he leaned his head in close, his mouth just next to your ear. He released the grip on your throat, his other hand rubbing harder and faster.
“Cum for me. Now,” he whispered in your ear.
Your body responded right away, twitching and convulsing, waves of pleasure pulsing through you. You ended up on the floor, somehow. As the waves of pleasure started to fade, you could feel his hand taking hold of your hair, pulling you up to your knees, and you followed as best you could, even though your body felt heavy and sluggish.
“Open wide,” he said, and you opened your mouth for him.
“Good girl,” he said as he put the tip of his cock into your mouth, slowly, carefully pushing it in deeper.
You tried to make it as good as you could, swirling your tounge around the tip as you moved your head back and forth. He let you do as you wished, just standing there with his hand gently stroking the top of your head as you worked his cock down as deep as you could, then out, sucking at it, working your tongue.
Eventually though, he grabbed your hair hard, pushing himself down your throat and holding you there. You gasped for air, instinctively trying to get away. He released you, and as he did, he pushed you to the side, causing you to fall to the floor on your side, coughing and gasping. He didn’t give you any time to recover. He was on top of you, taking hold of your legs, forcing them apart.
Then he was inside of you, thrusting hard. There was no time to think, no time to react. Your body was out of your control, it was his to use, it reacted of it’s own accord, twitching and shaking as he fucked you, one hand on your throat. There was no way to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, loud moans and affirmations. Nor was there any way to stop the orgasm when it came, rocking your body in waves of pleasure, all of you were a pulsating knot of pain and pleasure.
The orgasm lasted longer than you would have thought was possible, and he kept thrusting in and out of you throughout it. Only at the very end, as the throes of pleasure were slowing down, did you feel him stop and twitch too, finally releasing his seed deep inside of you.
After he came, he flopped down on the floor next to you, and you both lay there for a while, just breathing. Eventually, though, he got up and removed your handcuffs. He helped you up to your feet, fixed your clothes as well as he could. Then he kissed you on the forehead.
“You were amazing,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Then he took you under the arm and guided you to the door, opened it and gently pushed you outside. You could hear the door closing and being locked behind you before you thought to remove the blindfold.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ss9tyt/the_voice_bdsm_mdom