What No Submissive Ever Says About Testicles
Dommes squeeze, ring, burn them. We barely lick. The first time I looked at a pair up close was in a student flat, long before I knelt before anyone.
Dommes squeeze, ring, burn them. We barely lick. The first time I looked at a pair up close was in a student flat, long before I knelt before anyone.
I knew something was wrong the moment I saw his face when he came in. There was no greeting, only calculated coldness and an order: “Say out loud what you’re responsible for.”
I thought I controlled everything at home, until the woman I married made it clear who really ruled the three of us.
She pulled my pants down in the middle of the path without a word, and I understood that afternoon my body didn’t belong to me, but to her.
I went out alone to explore the northern area and a blow to the back of my head changed everything. I woke up surrounded by strangers, naked and with no escape.
He’d been ignoring me for weeks. That night I dressed for another man, and just as I was kissing him at the next table, he walked in arm in arm with a stranger.
I didn’t tie her hands to restrain her. I tied them so she’d understand, before anything happened, that tonight her body no longer belonged to her.
It was raining, so we went up to my place and let chance choose our game. Neither of us imagined it would end with her naked and begging in my ropes.
All my classmates sighed over him, but none of them knew what I hid beneath the masculine uniform the world forced me to wear.
I arrived in a black dress and hairpins. She was waiting in red silk, with a jeweled pendant and a question: what do you expect me to offer you?
I arrived at his place convinced the needles wouldn’t touch my soul. Damián made me understand very quickly that he had prepared for the opposite.
I walked into that apartment with my bag full of lingerie and walked out transformed into something else: the obedient little puppy of two men.
I came out of the shower soft and soapy, not suspecting that that afternoon a muscular stranger would turn the three of us into his obedient servants, ready for anything.
I promised myself I wouldn’t give up until I made it happen. What I didn’t know was how long my body would take to give me what I’d been begging it for all night.
It started as a solitary game at midnight. By the time I was done, I had discovered something about my own pleasure I could no longer pretend not to know.
Tied to her sofa, in a princess dress and with my face made up, I heard someone knock at the door. And I understood that night I would stop being only hers.
I had never touched myself. That afternoon, behind a badly closed door, I understood why my body had spent years asking me for something I never dared give it.
For years I had hidden the woman who screamed beneath my hands. That night, a widow and her maid discovered who really ruled that house.
I thought it would be a fifteen-minute scolding. I didn’t count on the bag Bárbara brought, or on the woman that furious mother would become.
When I saw her face on the entrance camera, I knew the prey had followed the trail back to the den. All that was left was deciding whether I’d let her cross the line.