Disclaimer: Erotic Fiction for the Avid Reader.
Please note, that these are erotic fiction stories only. They are posted here annonmously. I have permission from all of the authors to post them here.
These are not reviews and do not depict real life occurances or people in any way. Any resemblance to real life people is merely coincidental.
Enjoy you nasty minded freaks!
Her ad read simply:
“Dominant Mistress wants a new submissive bitch boy to serve and please me however I command.”
And I, so foolishly, replied that I would love to meet. We met on Friday night at this nice bar. We introduced ourselves, her name was Jessica. She was maybe 35 and very sexy, very attractive.
We sat in a booth, had drinks, flirted a bit – well, she flirted with me - and talked for a while. I was starting to relax and enjoy being in the presence of this striking woman. I was looking at her and she had almost a smirk on her face when she looked at me and said,
'You look like you might be gay, Stevie. Lot of submissive men turn out to be fags.”
I couldn't believe she just came out and said that. 'No I'm not gay, I'm totally straight. I just enjoy being with a strong, controlling woman.'
“Look at me when you answer me Stevie. It's ok if you are. Fag boys can so much fun. But I guess you think you are way too manly to admit that sometimes you think about what sex with a man would be like. I’m pretty sure you fantasize about a hot woman like me making you suck cock, and more. That makes you gay, Stevie. I’m sure we’ll both find out about you sooner or later.”
He words unnerved me. I was starting to sweating, starting to get aroused looking at her beautiful face and luscious body. I meekly said I wasn’t ready for that kind of conversation with her yet. But I was thinking – how the hell did she read my mind so quickly and hit precisely on my submissive fantasies?
'Don't get prissy with me Stevie. You're the one wanting to meet a dominant woman, show me respect. I want you to be totally honest and totally open to telling me all your embarrassing fantasies. But first, you need to Apologize.'
I was unsure about what she wanted me to apologize for, but I said, 'I’m sorry if I reacted poorly to your comment. I was just a bit shocked by you accusing me of being gay. I'm sorry Jessica.'
'Call me Miss Jessica and stand up in front of me, head down and apologize like you mean it. If you expect me to stay here any longer, it better be a proper apology.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I thought maybe I should just go, but I didn’t. I slowly got out of the booth, my hands practically shaking, and stood next to her, bowed my head and said, ‘I’m really sorry Miss Jessica. You just kind of surprised me with that gay stuff. I'm really sorry and I hope you will forgive me.'
'How does it feel Stevie, standing there apologizing to a woman you don't even know. A woman who told you she thought you looked gay.'
'I have to admit it’s embarrassing Miss Jessica.'
She told me to sit back down next to her. Just then the waitress came and asked if we wanted another round of drinks.
“We do, but first my little gay friend has to finish his drink.”
She then grabbed my empty drink glass, and slowly deposited a long gob of her spit into it. The waitress and I starred with blank expressions on each of our faces. Miss Jessica started rubbing my crotch under the table, and said, “Now don’t make our waitress stand there any longer, finished your drink, NOW,”
I was mesmerized, unsure what to do. The waitress stared at me with a smirking grin. Jessica moved my hand to the glass and, in a trance, I obeyed her, picked up the glass with her spit in it, and downed it.
“Good boy. Now we can both have another drink. … Now Stevie, I was not satisfied by your apology. If you want to see more of me, you’ll have to make a better apology. If you don’t our evening is over, and I can assure you will never have a better chance at getting your most submissive fantasies fulfilled. I want you to get on your knees, kiss my high heels, and tell me, with your head bowed down, that you are truly sorry for saying you’re not gay. I know you want to please me, so do it NOW.”
My head was spinning. The evening was morphing from a fun fantasy roleplay to something more serious, more overwhelming. Yet, I didn’t want it to end. But how could I humiliate myself in public like she was demanding? She grabbed my crotch firmly, and repeated her order to do it now. I couldn’t risk her making good on her threat and walking out on me. I needed to have more of her. I slide out of our booth and, one more time, obeyed my new Mistress. I was on my knees in the midst of my apology, when the waitress brought our drinks.
She laughed and called me a pathetic bitch.
“Thank you for apologizing. You’re a good little submissive, Stevie. I think this could be the start of a very rewarding relationship for you. I want you to do something else for me. Do you think you can do that?”
Her praise for my behavior gave me this warm, erotic sense of satisfaction. I told her, “I’ll try to do whatever you ask of me Miss Jessica.”
'No Stevie, your answer must be, ‘Yes, Miss Jessica I...I want to be your submissive bitch and will do anything you say.” '
I nervously repeated what she wanted to hear.
She then pulled out a pair of lacy pink panties and placed them on the table in plain sight.
'I want you to go into the men's room and put these on and throw away whatever you are wearing now. And before you come back out here, I want you to take a picture of yourself in front of the mirror, wearing the panties and text it to me. If you don’t, I’ll make you pull your pants down in front of the entire room to prove that you obeyed my command.”
I just sat there, looking at the panties sitting on the table and contemplating if I had any choice but to do what she said. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two middle aged women at the next table looking at me and the panties. I didn’t realize it, but they must have seen and heard when I was down on my knees apologizing for saying I am not gay.
I made the mistake of asking Miss Jessica if there was something else I could do to please her. She replied:
“I will punish you another time for questioning one of my orders. But the answer, Stevie, is I expect the boys I spend time with to be in panties. It seems to help their attitude. I mean, really, how can a guy feel like much of a man if he's sitting there in panties. Now go and take a nice picture showing off your pretty new pink panties.”
Again, I felt like I should leave before I put myself deeper into her control. I was falling into a submissive space I feared I’d never be able to get out of . . . but I didn't walk out. It's all becoming rather scary but intoxicating; I’m aroused feeling like a helpless boy. I can’t help myself from being turned on when she orders me around.
I go into a stall in the bathroom, take my pants down and take off my white jockeys and slide the pink panties up. They feel so slick and soft against my cock and I can't help but rub lightly, feeling my cock through the silky material and I realize how nice it feels. I’m embarrassed when I realize what I'm doing. I wait in the stall until no one else is in the rest room, then I quickly go out and snap a few pictures of myself in the mirror. I go back to the stall to get dressed. I’m sweating. My heart is racing. I’m hard. I look at the photos and see, to my further embarrassment, that my hard on is poking against the panties. I think about taking more pictures, but now there are several guys in the restroom, and I’ve been gone quite a while. I hesitate before hitting send on my phone, but I do it and send the pictures.
As I’m walking back to the booth, Miss Jessica is leaning over to the next table and showing the two women the pictures I just sent her. I can hear her saying to them:
“Doesn’t he look so cute. I think pink might be his color. And will you look at the little cock poking out the fabric. It’s just darling.”
As I walked back to our booth, my face red with embarrassment, Miss Jessica called me over and introduced me the two women. She introduced me as Stevie, her little bitch. One of the women told me how much she enjoyed the pictures and said how she wished she had her own little submissive pet like me. She asked me if I got aroused being Jessica’s obedient bitch.
“Answer her question, bitch. In fact, get down on your knees, look directly at her, and tell her how hard it makes you to be my slutty obedient bitch. Do it NOW.”
Unbelievably, I felt myself obeying her command. I was on my knees, but the hardest part was looking in the eyes of this woman, who was about my age, and telling her that, yes, my cock gets hard whenever Miss Jessica orders me to do some humiliating task. They were all laughing at me. I never felt so humiliated in my life, but at the same time, it was exhilarating and scary being so completely under the control of Miss Jessica, not knowing what she might make me do next.
Her voice got a little softer and it sounded low and sexy, as she said:
“You did quite well tonight, my little bitch. Most men who think they want a submissive experience would have walked out of here a long time ago. But not you Stevie, you were a good boy. You got down on your knees and kissed my feet so everyone in the bar could see what a submissive bitch you are, and you put on a pair of pink panties like some sissy boy and took pictures of yourself. I’ll hold on to the pictures, they’ll be a good reminder for both of us about tonight, and why you’re going to continue to be my bitch and obey everything I tell you. I think we both know how much you want to see me again. Call me next Friday at 6:00. We will be going out that night so don't make any other plans.”
She then got up to leave, and walked over and stood in front of me.
'Look up at me Stevie.'
When I did, she slapped my face hard and walked out.
. . . When I got home, I kept replaying the evening over and over again in my mind. I can't believe I was on my knees in the restaurant
and that she showed the ladies the pictures. I bet they really did think that I'm gay, I mean I was wearing pink panties.
. . . Why is my cock still hard? Obviously, doing all those things for Miss Jessica really aroused me. There I was, standing in my bedroom all my clothes off except for the pink panties. I closed my eyes, rubbing my cock, thinking about the night, the way she
talked to me, the things she made me do. Suddenly, I know what's going to happen and I can't stop it. I come hard in the panties, one of the better orgasms I have had in a while. I just lay there in my cum soaked panties, thinking about Miss Jessica and what might happen next Friday. I start to fall asleep. I leave the cum-soaked panties on. . . . .TO BE CONTINUED
Author: Mr. Pink