My First Time with BDSM: I Ended Up Being Her Submissive

The first time I went to Mara’s apartment, I already knew I wouldn’t leave the same. We had been talking for weeks, putting rules, limits, and fantasies on the table, and even so, nothing prepared me to see her open the door with that dry calm, dressed in black, her hair tied back and an expression that promised no tenderness.

“Come in and close the door,” she said without smiling.

I went in with my pulse racing. The place smelled of gentle incense, leather, and cleanliness. Everything was arranged with an almost intimidating orderliness: the spotless sofa, a low table with gloves, lubricant, a gag, and a glass of water, as if the scene had been rehearsed before I arrived.

She made me remain standing in the middle of the living room while she looked me up and down. She wasn’t trying to please me. She was trying to measure how long I would resist before folding.

“Last chance to change your mind,” she said. “If you stay, you obey. If anything becomes too much, use the safe word. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

She held my gaze for another second.

“No. Not like that. From now on, you answer me properly. Yes, Mistress.”

Heat rose to my face.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She nodded and pointed to the rug.

“On your knees.”

That was where it truly began. Not because of the gesture itself, but because of what it made me feel. Kneeling before an adult, experienced, composed woman who enjoyed watching me lower my head awakened something in me that I had spent far too long trying to rationalize. It wasn’t just desire. It was the relief of no longer pretending I was in control.

She approached slowly. The tip of her shoe brushed my thigh, then moved up my chest until it stopped beneath my chin.

“Lift your face when I speak to you.”

I obeyed. Her eyes were cold, but not empty. There was pleasure there, a very specific kind: the pleasure of confirming that her voice alone was enough to move me.

“Take off your clothes.”

I did it awkwardly, noticing how she watched me without helping me even once. When I was naked, she walked slowly around my body, humiliatingly deliberate. She moved my hands away from my groin, felt my shoulders, my back, my ass. Then she clicked her tongue when she saw my erection.

“Look at you. I haven’t even started, and you’re already hard. You’re so easy.”

She pushed my head lower with two fingers at the nape of my neck.

“Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

The corner of her mouth curved slightly.

“That’s better.”

She tied my wrists behind my back with assured firmness, without haste or hesitation. Then she put a simple gag in my mouth, just to see how I reacted. The leather filled my mouth and forced me to breathe through my nose. I couldn’t speak, and that helplessness hit me immediately in my stomach and my cock.

“Now you look like what you came here to be,” she murmured. “Useful when you’re quiet.”

She led me by the arm to the main bathroom. It was spacious, with gray tiles and a white light that left no shadows. She made me kneel in front of the closed toilet and placed one hand on my head.

“Don’t move.”

She stood in front of me, lifted her skirt just enough, and moved her underwear aside. The sight of her sex so close made me gasp against the gag. She let out a low laugh.

“I know you want to use your tongue. First, you’re going to learn something else.”

Without taking her eyes off mine, she urinated onto my gagged mouth. The heat soaked my lips, my chin, and my tongue trapped behind the leather. The humiliation was as sudden as the arousal. I swallowed as best I could, ashamed of how much it turned me on to be reduced to that, to receive her like that, motionless, while she decided how much and when.

When she finished, she slowly removed the gag.

“Well, now we have to leave what you see clean, don’t we?”

I couldn’t speak through the trembling inside me. I only nodded.

“That’s what I expected. Why would I want toilet paper when I have that mouth so close? Come closer and clean me, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I bent between her legs and ran my tongue over her pussy with almost desperate obedience. It tasted of a mixture of her recent urine and the arousal building beneath it. I heard her exhale through her nose, satisfied, while I licked carefully at first and then with more hunger, spreading my tongue wide, tracing her lips, slipping it between them, sucking up every trace she allowed me to collect.

“Don’t kiss me. Really clean me.”

She grabbed my hair and pulled me closer to her crotch. I obeyed with my mouth open, licking from bottom to top, passing over her clitoris for only an instant before sinking my tongue back in. Her thighs began to tense. I felt the weight of her hand guiding me, imposing the rhythm.

Then she moved her hips forward a little. Suddenly, it was no longer her pussy in front of my mouth, but her ass.

I stopped for barely a second, just long enough for her to yank my hair hard.

“Why did you stop? Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Then clean my ass too. I want that tongue inside.”

There was no softness in the order, and that was precisely why a jolt of desire ran through me. I stuck out my tongue farther and ran it over her anus, first in slow circles, then pressing against it. Her skin contracted and she released a low, hoarse moan that pushed me to repeat it. I slipped the tip inside, played with persistent strokes, alternating between her hole and her pussy, leaving everything wet with saliva.

“That’s it. Deeper. Don’t be shy now.”

Her breathing changed. She began moving over my mouth, rubbing herself against my tongue, using my face as if it were just another toy. My jaw was tired and my cock throbbed, hard enough to hurt, but I didn’t care. Every time I licked her ass and then lowered myself to her pussy, she trembled more.

“Fuck... yes... don’t slow down.”

I drove my tongue into her anus and brushed her clitoris with my nose. Mara leaned against the wall, spread her legs wider, and came across my face in a long spasm, pouring over my mouth and cheeks. She didn’t pull away immediately; she kept rubbing herself against me a little longer, forcing me to swallow her release while she panted.

When she finally stepped back, she looked at me with cold, assessing satisfaction.

“I like the way you work with your mouth. I may use you more often. But first I have to find out what that ass is good for.”

She untied me from the toilet, though she left my hands bound behind my back, and led me back to the living room. She made me kneel on the rug and open my mouth.

“Open wide. I want to see you available.”

I did. She sat on the edge of the sofa in front of me and spread her legs. She began masturbating while looking straight into my eyes, slowly at first, two fingers sliding over her pussy, already wet from my tongue. I couldn’t touch myself. I could only watch, my mouth open like something waiting to receive whatever she chose to give.

“Do you like it, dog?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Do you know that I don’t care whether you like it or not? Your tastes don’t matter. What matters is what I want to do with you. Repeat something better.”

I swallowed.

“Mistress, my desires mean nothing beside yours.”

“Much better.”

She continued masturbating with quick, wet fingers, spreading her lips wide to force me to watch her open herself for her own pleasure. The wet sound filled the living room. I remained on my knees, my neck tense and my cock throbbing with need. When she came again, she sprayed some of her juices over my face and half-open lips.

“Don’t close your mouth.”

I obeyed. She spat into my mouth and then ran her thumb over my cheek, mixing everything together.

“Swallow.”

I swallowed.

“Good boy. Now get on all fours.”

My heart gave a hard, sharp thump. It was the part that excited me most and frightened me most. Even so, I obeyed. I bent over with my hands tied, spread my legs, and immediately felt her foot in the middle of my back, pushing until it arched me.

“Wider. I want a good look at that ass.”

I spread my knees. She stroked one cheek with the tip of her shoe and then gave me a sharp smack.

“Tense. But not as much as you claim. Let’s find out how usable you are.”

I heard the snap of a glove as she put it on. Then came the click of a lubricant cap. The first cold contact against my ass made me shudder. She spread it over me calmly, opening me with her fingers, smearing it everywhere. Then she pressed her fingertip against my entrance and left it there, simply applying pressure, forcing me to feel the edge, the threat, the desire.

“Breathe and relax,” she ordered. “If you resist, it hurts more. If you obey, it goes in more easily.”

Her finger sank in slowly. I let out an involuntary moan. The initial burn tightened my stomach, but she didn’t retreat; she waited inside, moving only slightly in short circles.

“That’s it. Your ass learns quickly.”

She moved her finger in and out, adding more lubricant and opening me little by little. Then she inserted a second finger. That was when I had to grit my teeth. I felt the stretching, the complete invasion, the shame of wanting to run away and stay at the same time.

“Look at you,” she said. “You’re afraid, and it’s getting even harder.”

She was right. My cock hung stiff beneath me, dripping onto the rug. I felt the heat of pure humiliation.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Of course it is. You’re one of those who come with a hand around their neck and a finger up their ass. I recognize your kind quickly.”

She withdrew her fingers and left me empty for a moment. Then I heard the rustle of straps. I lifted my head just enough to see her fastening a harness with a thick, glossy black silicone cock, shining with lubricant. My mouth went dry.

She came closer until the tip was in front of my face.

“Before you feel it behind you, you’re going to suck it.”

She grabbed my hair and pulled me forward. I ran my tongue over the tip, uncertain at first, then wrapped my lips around it. It wasn’t flesh, but the act of sucking a cock for her aroused me in a filthy, direct way. Mara began pushing with her hips, driving it deeper into my mouth.

“That’s it. I want to see you swallow. Open wider. Use it properly.”

She fucked my throat slowly, pulling my hair to set the pace. Saliva ran down my chin. Every thrust filled my mouth while her eyes remained locked on mine, forcing me to endure that humiliation without pulling away. The mixture of lingering disgust, submission, and arousal had me at the edge.

“Look at me while you suck,” she ordered.

I did. She touched her pussy over the harness with her free hand, breathing harder, and I knew it was turning her on intensely. She kept using my mouth until she let out a brief moan and tightened her fingers in my hair.

“Fuck... yes. Not on your knees. Back on all fours.”

She positioned me with my head lowered and my ass raised. Before penetrating me, she placed one foot beside my face.

“Lick the sole.”

I stuck out my tongue and traced the sole of her shoe, then its edge, and finally her bare sole when she took it off. It tasted of hot skin and the faint dust from the floor. She made me suck her heel, then each toe, keeping me like that, degraded and aroused, just as I felt the tip of the harness pressing against my entrance from behind.

“I want you to remember this position,” she said. “Your mouth occupied below and your ass occupied behind.”

She pushed slowly. The first stretch tore a hoarse moan from me against her foot. It burned. A lot. But she didn’t give even a millimeter. She entered with cruel patience, letting me feel as she opened me completely.

“Breathe. Don’t play brave. Take it.”

I felt her finally fill me completely. I stayed still, trembling, my forehead almost touching the floor. She slapped my ass.

“That’s it. Now you’re taken.”

She began moving with short strokes, pulling out and pushing in only halfway. The sound of lubricant and my panting filled the living room. Every thrust made me tighten my abdomen. It hurt, but beneath the pain was an increasingly powerful current of shameful pleasure, pure submission, the knowledge that she had the rhythm, the depth, and my entire body at her disposal.

“Look at how you open for me,” she said, gripping my hip. “It fits better than you expected.”

She began fucking me in earnest. Harder. Deeper. The harness struck my ass with a dry, repeated, obscene sound. I no longer knew whether I wanted to flee or beg for more. My cock slammed against my stomach with every thrust, wet with my own pre-cum.

“Say it,” she demanded.

“I’m yours, Mistress.”

A harder thrust made me release a broken gasp.

“More clearly.”

“I’m yours, Mistress. Use me however you want.”

She grabbed my hair from above and forced me to arch my back farther while she kept thrusting into me. The position made her penetrate even deeper. My vision blurred.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Then she spat on the floor in front of my face.

“Lick it.”

I did while she penetrated me. The image of myself, tongue out, licking saliva from the parquet while a woman fucked my ass with her foot pressed against my head, was too much. It made me tremble with raw desire.

She noticed immediately.

“Look at that little cock,” she mocked. “You’re crazy for this.”

She released my hair and lowered one hand between my legs. She closed her fingers around my cock and began masturbating me in time with her thrusts. It nearly unraveled me instantly. Every pull of her hand coincided with the cock plunging into my ass. Pleasure rose so quickly it made me dizzy.

“Don’t come until I give you permission.”

I tried to obey. I really did. But she squeezed me hard, without tenderness, moving up and down with saliva and lubricant while she fucked me without slowing for even a second. My ass was burning, my cock was about to explode, and my head was completely empty.

“Mistress... please...”

“Please what?”

“Let me come.”

She gave a short laugh and drove into me all the way.

“Do it.”

I came in a brutal spasm, shooting all over the floor. I trembled from head to toe while she kept fucking me through the orgasm, drawing out the convulsions until they became almost painful. I moaned uncontrollably, my face wet with saliva and my breathing broken.

When I finished, she pulled the cock out sharply. The emptiness left my legs weak.

I looked at my release scattered in front of me and thought, for one absurd second, that it was all over.

“Don’t even think you’re leaving that there,” she said.

She grabbed my hair and dragged me a few inches. She rubbed my cheek through my own come with a firm, filthy, deliberate motion. I felt the humiliation rise like a fever. Then she shoved my face down onto the floor again.

“Clean it.”

I obeyed. My tongue trembled as I gathered the salty taste of my own orgasm from the parquet, mixed with her recent spit. She watched me in silence, breathing more calmly now, openly enjoying the entire scene.

When I finished, she placed the tip of her foot beneath my chin and forced me to look at her.

“Now listen carefully. Today I used you however I pleased. If I call you again, you will come. If I want your mouth, you will give it to me. If I want your ass, that too. And if one day I decide to humiliate you more, you will not be the one setting conditions. Is that clear?”

My face was hot, my ass tender, my cock already half-soft, and a fierce shame pulsed beneath my skin. But along with all that was something stronger: an obscene, surrendered, perfectly clear certainty.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She removed her foot.

“Get dressed and disappear.”

It was difficult to stand. My legs were clumsy and my head was too full of images: her pussy over my mouth, her ass tightening against my tongue, the harness cock opening me, her hand even dictating how I was allowed to come. I dressed in silence, not daring to ask for anything, not expecting a kind gesture that would never come.

Before leaving, I dared to turn my head. She was still standing beside the sofa, immaculate once again, as if none of it had disturbed her in the slightest.

“Anything else?” she asked.

The answer came out on its own, more sincerely than I would have liked to admit.

“Thank you for using me, Mistress.”

She smiled for the first time, barely a hint of satisfied cruelty.

“You’ll learn to do it better.”

I went out into the street with my ass still throbbing and her voice lodged in my head. The night was cool, but I was still burning. I should have felt offended, humiliated, ready never to return. Instead, as I walked toward the car, I could think only of the sound of her commands and how quickly I would come when she called me again.

Because that was the worst and best part of it all: in a single session, she didn’t take away my will. She taught me how much I wanted to surrender it to her.